The Lone Star Rally came at a very beautiful time this year. My wife and I had a sitter for the kids, we were both scheduled off from our jobs, and the weather called for three days of clear skies and beautiful weather. With our hotel reservations set, we departed from beautiful humble, Texas about mid-morning on Friday, November 3. My wife was riding her sleek little 883 custom while I was aboard my trusty Springer. We were joined on the trip by my partner-in-crime, Mike, and his lovely wife, Tonia.

We expected the rally attendance to be down again this year due to the fact the rally was held on opening weekend for deer season. I am not to sure about the rest of the country, but most men in southeast Texas, watch the calendar and count the weeks to opening weekend of hunting season. What made this year even more unique was, we had a cold front late Thursday evening that put the temperatures in the high 40’s, low 50’s. We only have a week of winter in my neck of the woods, and to have a cold front move in the day before deer season are nearly as remote as finding a true running Panhead with matching numbers for under 5 grand. Well, we were wrong in assuming the numbers. I guess all the Harley riding hunters figured they still have two months to hunt, but this is the last damn rally of the year, might as well enjoy the party.

We had an uneventful ride into Galveston, just smooth sailing. We arrived in Galveston and headed to our hotel room, The Best Western, on the Seawall. Now if you have never stayed in Galveston, it is a pretty straightforward set-up, street-wise. The turn-off from the highway takes you to a road that runs parallel to the coast; the Seawall. You can go for miles to the right or to the left, either way; it’s just beaches, hotels, restaurants, and fishing piers. Our hotel was on the seawall, which gave us quick access to the beach, food, bikes, and a view to die for.

After a quick meal at one of our famous Mexican food restaurants, we were ready to hit the Strand. This year, its fifth year , the Lone Star Rally not only ran from 21st street to 25th street on the Strand, but also had a section of vendors on the Seawall. This was an unprecedented event, considering the Seawall had never been closed for an event before. We decided to bypass the Seawall vendors and go straight to the Strand. We were not disappointed.

The Strand was once the upper-class shopping district in Galveston in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. A series of fires, hurricanes, and exiled heavyweight champion started the eventual slide away from Galveston.

We like to look for these signs as we travel. They seem to give us a sense of perspective and make us appreciate today. Look for them if you ever travel through Texas.

Today, The Strand is nothing more than a quaint little shopping district geared towards tourists looking for a taste of the old times. From a small old-time soda shop and candy store, to the brick roads with tram tracks running through it; The Strand is a piece of history placed into this century.

It didn’t take very long at all for the streets to get overwhelmed with activity.

Now I have read plenty of articles lately with the author complaining about yuppies, newbies, old-school, new-school, bobber, chopper, not a real biker, blah, blah, blah. I will not do that here. For the most part, the rally is filled by a bunch of people who all have one basic love, motorcycles. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and I do not recall seeing anyone getting too out of control. While the cops were on hand to apprehend if anyone acted completely out of line, I did not see anything out of the ordinary. From the time I arrived on the strand Friday night, to the time I left Sunday evening, the place was packed from front to back with bikes, beer, and people. It was a blast!

Bikes like this were commonplace. The only difference seemed to be the paintjobs. They are impressive, but seem to be “blending in” which is sort of anti-chop.

Another carbon-copy style chopper with an upgrade in graphics.

This green monster caught my eye and definitely displayed some intricate details. I was starting to get a little “crowded” at this point, so my options of taking pictures gets limited sometimes to partial, detailed, close-ups of parts of the bikes.

Friday night was filled with us traveling up and down the streets looking at bikes, drinking beer, and generally just having fun. I met quite a few people on Friday who were regular stiffs just like me who just happened to ride a Harley. It was kind of nice visiting somewhere that everyone didn’t associate themselves as a master builder just because they turn wrenches.

The Strand stayed busy throughout, and it was a constant parade ground for everyone to show off their bikes. While it is not Sturgis, it is definitely the closest thing to it in these parts.

The girl on the left is my wife, Salena. After buying her an 883 Custom in March, she has been slowly riding more and more. I am very proud to say she made it through the rally and all it’s “brewhaha” without a single scratch on her bike. She has become my favorite riding partner on the road as well as life. The girl on the right is her best friend Tonia. She is a rider herself, but after having a near-fatal, bike cartwheeling, whipping-through-the-air after hitting a car at 120 mph on a GSXR last year, she was a passenger this year. We all thank the Big Man upstairs for allowing her to be with us again this year.

this was a cool little chop that caught my eye.

The night life is approaching.

I was glad it didn’t rain. When it rains, the bricks and railcar paths get slick. I was nervous enough for my wife without the thought of her slipping down and getting hurt due to unusual conditions.

It was not uncommon to see the older crowd cruising along on their pensions.

Friday was pretty much a great, Sturgis-like, night until I realized I lost my Panoptx glasses. I was pissed all the way back to the hotel room when my wife realized she had lost her cell phone. I just got back on my bike, rode back to the Strand, and looked for her phone for another two hours. Talk about a buzz kill.

This was The Strand later after I went back. Pictures do not do it justice as you have to envision the sound of rev- limiters, popping engines, and an all-night party atmosphere. Believe me when I say the freaks come out at night. I laughed my ass off.

I went back to the room to find my wife and my best friend in bed together. Nah, just kidding. I was just giving ya a check to make sure you were actually reading this. Actually, they were all fast asleep and I came back to a very noisy (snoring) room. I only slept a few hours before I woke up and rode back to the party grounds to see if maybe the glasses or phone had been kicked to the side during the night. I was surprised to find the streets had already been cleaned and all the trash cans were emptied. It was only 4 in the morning! I decided to ride Galveston for a while and just relax.

On to Page 2...