Over Thanksgiving break I went to Galveston and took my gears with me. I put in about 35 miles along the seawall one day and got honked at about a thousand times. Pulling back in to home base I got honked at one more time, the car was passing me pretty slowly so I turned around to see what was up. This big Galveston PARD truck filled with at least four guys crammed into the front row pulls up; one really old guy with that weathered look that east Texans get was sticking his head out the window and waving me a big thumbs up. It made my day.
In other news: Surfing in Texas still sucks (most of the time).
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