THE GREAT
DOWNGRADE

The motorcycle version of Texas died before departure, but the Brotherhood proceeded under emergency compromise protocol: pile into MAD’s Bimmer, turn up the music we grew up on, and attempt to compress Houston and Galveston into roughly forty-eight hours.

We started at MAD’s place with a dinner worthy of significantly better planning — King Salmon, chicken, and enough food to briefly make us forget there were no motorcycles involved. Then we headed into downtown Houston, wandered around at night, and found a cool spot to play pool. This was when we began discovering the central theme of the trip: somehow, despite having almost no official itinerary, we were already running out of time.

The next day we stormed Galveston. The Gulf looked energetic enough to file a restraining order, so the planned ocean swim was wisely abandoned. We hit the beach, the pier, wandered around town, drank beers, ate well, and made the essential pilgrimage to Doc Holliday’s restaurant/pub.

Back at MAD’s house, the legendary pool frogs were nowhere to be found. Apparently they heard the Brotherhood was coming and dipped out before diplomatic relations could begin. In a final display of scheduling incompetence, we didn’t even swim in the frog-free pool.

So yes: what was supposed to be an epic Texas motorcycle mission became a short car trip. But with the right bros, loud old music, King Salmon, Houston at night, Galveston by day, beers by the Gulf, and zero confirmed amphibian casualties, the Great Downgrade turned out considerably better than it had any right to.

Photographic Evidence