Date: Wed, 10 Oct 2001 17:43:17 -0700
Reply-To: Good Ole Volk <goodolevolk@YAHOO.COM>
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From: Good Ole Volk <goodolevolk@YAHOO.COM>
Subject: East M/ West - Indigibus 1st trip report!! FMBC
In-Reply-To: <012601c14b7b$677891a0$10cc0999@cofc.edu>
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...and what a trip it was!
Dicko and I set out in the Hippy Bus, for sights unseen, on Oct. 3. We met up with Snoopy
sometime around noonish, had lunch at the Golden Arches, and took off.
The brave Snoopy and Dicko used my navigational skills as their only guide. (note the "brave"
part) I had mapped out some serious highway adventuring; some two lanes, some four, but only a
few miles being interstate. We passed through some beautiful countryside and took Snoopy to
places he had only read about in "The Hill-bille Jurnal." He took to the hills well, however.
We made a few brief stops during the first day for people and bus food, as well as picture taking.
Contrary to my belief, and the aforementioned navigational "skills", we never did quite make it
to Mud Lick, KY. :( We did feel better, though, with the knowledge that we weren't the only ones
who weren't really sure if we were in TN or KY, or the planet Mars. The locals didn't seem to
keep up with the state lines too well, either! We settled in at the Barren River Lake State
Resort and Park (KY) just past nightfall.
After a few hours sleep, we were raring to go again, with the greedy need to feed on our minds.
We took to the nearby town of Scottsville, and sat down at Tabatha's diner. We didn't care what
she was serving. We just needed some nourishment.
The day abounded with more of the skillful planners delights, including some not-supposed-to-be
able-to-get pics of the Amish using the telephone(I was too busy looking at other natural
wildlife), a visit to the Jefferson Davis Monument (standing at 351' tall), and even included a
brief (and I mean brief; somewhere in the neighborhood of the 2 minute tick) Illinois wheel
rolling, while Crossing the Mighty Missysipp in the town of Cairo. It was just enough to add
another sticker to Snoopy's newly acquired State-Sticker Map, on the side of the short bus.
We only had one real mishap, which also occurred on the second day, just inside of Missouri. The
ole nail through the tire (and sidewall, ouch!) did the trick, and called for a visit to the
nearest open tire store we could get our hippy hands on. We made a nose dive into the local
Goodyear at the very last minute. As in, they were already closed, but just hadn’t locked the
doors yet, last minute.
Rolling yet again, we drudged through the smoke (and I do mean smoke), and flatlands (and I
doooooo mean flatlands), and the wind (not to sound long winded or anything, but it was like,
serious headwindage). With some brief head-scratching over Missouri's Sesame Street road
numbering AND LETTERING system, we finally came to the intersection brought to you by the letters
FF. (which actually should have been marked Ff) [Writer's tasteful opinion inserted here]: For
heaven's sake, with the entire numerical system AND the alphabet at hand, one would THINK that you
wouldn't have trouble coming up with a different name(?) for three different roads!!! [END
writer's tasteful opinion]
The final four miles only took about a half hour, and Snoopy later discussed some problems with
dust, involving windshield wipers. We came in to camp at about dark-thirty, and began meeting and
greeting our hosts, Dave and Shawn, and our other "hosts" whom owned/operated the Phoenix Ranch.
Morning came... and so did the rain. 80 degrees was easily reached by 8:00am camp time, but the
temp quickly dropped to the neighborhood of 40 degrees, with the very strong wind-chill bringing
the feel down to well below that mark. Everyone pretty much took the day off, staying inside the
bunkhouse or in their buses, with the heaters a blastin’. The actual low temp for the night was
well below 30 degrees, and my soaked sleeping bag made the night miserable. (I stayed in a tent,
and the fly was thrown aside during the harsh winds) The night did show promise, with clearing
skies.
The next day was beautiful, and that's how it remained for all the days of the event, itself.
Beautiful land, howling Coyotes, and soaring Eagles could hold your attention, as if the events
and storytelling weren’t enough. There were hikes to the beautiful view at the cliffs, which
overlooked Missouri’s largest stretch of privately owned land, at just over 16000 sq acres. There
was some serious drumming and didging while overseeing a fire, when provoked by an outside source,
or just whenever the heck you wanted too. We weren’t too bad, for a bunch of white boys and
girls. :) [writer is not stating that white people have no rythym, everyone knows that Vanilla
Ice settled that argument some years ago] The Native American Sweat was something I just had to
try and it was shared by many of the group's members.
There was some SERIOUS raffling taking place, with donations from Wolfsburg West, Empi, Rocky
Mountain Sputterwerks, and more, including a donation from our own FMBC member, Karl, from
Maryland. Everyone’s eye was on the much sought after prize donated by Rocky Mountain; the solid
metal Split Bus Gear Shifter, which valued at around $125 in Snoopy dollars.
There was also some serious bad table manners at the Wheel of Misfortune, where guests were
treated to such tasty goods as Veal Baby Food, Pickled Pigs Feet, Two different kinds of Cat Food,
Dog Food, Anchovies, and oysters. The brave guests spun the wheel of food fate, which
miraculously determined their delectable dish “of choice”, and then were required to eat whatever
dinner Lady Luck’s wheel had prepared for them. The competition was stiff, with a lot of prizes
given away. But the contestants didn’t all come to terms with the meal quite as fondly as the
meal took to them. There were, luckily, no regurgitated delicacies but one contestant did come
VERY close. Even I was disturbed, by the entire evening’s battle with bad tasting grit being
pulled from crevices I didn’t even know I had in my mouth. [to parents: NEVER, and I mean NEVER
eat that pink junk in the little glass jar! I don’t care how good it looks after an unsuccessful
landing attempt at the little Johnny or Susie airport hangar… it just ain’t worth it!]
Our trip back home seemed very uneventful, after having left such a succesful campout. Dicko and
I shared a few laughs, saw a few new sites, but none that compared to the commoradary we
encountered at the Phoenix Ranch.
Shawn had plenty of events planned, and although they may not have all worked out "as scheduled,"
it all fit together very well and a lot of fun and friendship were had by all. Everyone who
visited this long-haul event seemed to have a good time, and plenty of great laughs. I definitely
feel as though I have some new extended family members, whom I am glad I met and sincerely hope to
see again, soon.
I believe the count was a total of 17 buses, arriving from Florida, Maryland, Illinois, Tennessee,
South Carolina, Missouri, California, Arkansas, and more.
So… Snoopy’s still at large, touring some more states with Vanagon driver Glenn, and Dicko and I
have just settled in for our long winter’s “What’s next?” Snoopy, Dicko, and myself will
hopefully all be at the Oktoberbus celebration this weekend, and I look forward to seeing you all
there.
p.s. – bring some dog food for Dicko, next time you might see him… he’s really into the liver with
onion flavor
=====
+ Power to the People's Car! +
BUSES ON THE RIVER
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