Born To Be Wild

I haven't had a good blog since Buffalo, so I thought the Lone Star Motorcycle Rally in Galveston would make for interesting fodder. Since I don't own a motorcycle, my Jeep sufficed for the journey to biker land. I'm thankful I went while the sun was still high in the sky, because a billion drunken bikers would be too much for me to experience after dark.
My first stop was the NRA tent, where they were running special rally discounts on memberships. Sign me up! Not only did I get a year's membership for a mere $25, I got to pick from a hat, t-shirt or knife for my membership gift. It took me about one second to decide on the kick-ass NRA knife. This will come in handy on my future bus rides. Armed and happy, I continued my walk through the vendors. I stopped to talk to Bill from West Virginia. He was selling custom made hammocks. Every biker deserves a siesta after a long day of beer brawls and blood-lettings. Go to www.wiskybilt.com to get yours today. After many sightings of beautiful bikes and biker outfits, I stopped to talk to Bob of  Howling Helmets in California. He and his dad make custom helmets topped with various dead animals/roadkill. For a mere $2, I had my picture taken wearing a dead fox helmet. There were plenty of varmints to choose from, so email Bob at ajnbob13@aol.com today to order yours. April of Cheeky Chaps was kind enough to model some handmade, styling chaps for me. People are so friendly here. Nothing says happiness like cold beer at noon on a Sunday.  The later it got, the more toothless grins I received from biker prison dudes. I thought Gatorfest had some toothless people, but Lone Star Rally was running a tight second place in the missing teeth race. Still, bikers are so nice that a person could overlook the lack of enamel with these road hogs. While shopping in the Sons of Anarchy tent, I overheard some ex-cons reminiscing about their days as hired killers in Cali. Holy shit! What is a little school marm like myself doing in a place like this? In order to blend in, I bought some skull license plate holders, and nodded my head like I could relate to their Life in the Big House memories, then ran as fast as I could, with NRA knife in hand ,back to the family friendly booths off of The Strand. I think it's time to head back to Houston.

I talked to some more easy riders, and was surprised that these bikers came from all over the USA to party in Galveston. It was truly a sight to behold. I'll go back next year...with reinforcements.