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Date:         Thu, 10 Apr 1997 14:27:13 -0700
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         busgirl@netcom.com (Martha)
Subject:      kathy's trip report

Kathy Myer's has asked me to post her kelley park trip report:

Hi everybody! Her Majesty and I just had a fabulous weekend and I = thought you all might be interested in reading about it. If any of you = are interested in taking a look at the Old Girl, here's a URL for a = page dedicated to one of the CCCs camp-outs. We're the ones in purple.

http://coyote.accessnv.com/wayback/people.html

xoxoxoxo

Kath and Her Majesty - the bus that makes people smile

Confessions of a First Time Exhibitor

One thing for sure, Her Majesty was not created to be a show car, for = that matter, over the eighteen months that I've been working on her, = there wasn't even a finalized design plan. She is a work in progress = that is evolving over time; a work of creativity, driven from the = heart. So, the idea of entering her in a car show was alien, to say the = least, especially considering that she isn't even finished. Not to = mention the fact that I'd never even been to a car show, let alone = entered one.

Let's back up a little. Fifteen months ago, I went online to research = the vernacular of your basic VW freak. You see, I was writing an = article about my bus and I was at a loss for the words to describe = exactly what I was doing to the Old Girl. Immediately, I "met" Steve = Johnson who introduced me to the "list." My next acquaintances were = "busgirl" AKA Martha Rubin, Bill Abbott and a raft of other members of = a notorious group aptly named the CCCs - California Camping Crazies.

While online with these fabulous volks, I learned that I was doing a = "resto-customization" and, with their help, we came up with a better = name for the Old Girl: Her Majesty, the bus that makes people smile. = During this time online, we were graciously invited to join the CCCs on = a couple of their camp-outs, which we could not attend because of our = heinous winter weather. Six months later, when the weather finally = mellowed out, we drove south over the Sierra and met the CCCs on the = Sequoia National Forest. The rest is history. Including a "camp-out" in = Jeff Carter's lovely home in Tahoe, Her Majesty and I have joined the = CCCs for five of their wonderful events.

In March, as part of our 8,000 mile spring road trip, we joined the = CCCs for their camp-out at The Pinnacles National Monument. In the = evenings, around the fire, there was all this talk of the "Kelley Park = Vintage VW Show." Everybody talked about the next CCC event being a = leisurely walk through the show. That sounded fine, but, all too = quickly, that idea blossomed into entering Her Majesty in the show. I = declined, immediately! To me, that was absurd! She wasn't a show car. = She was a thirty year dream come true - just my car, nothing less, = nothing more! Granted, I was proud of her. Granted, the idea of = entering her in a show had been thrown around before, but it just felt = wrong... kind of against the grain. I hadn't created her as a show = piece, it just turned out that way. As Her Majesty and I pulled out of = the camp-out, for our trip across the Central Valley and up-up-up over = the Sierra, I promised my CCC comrades that I would consider joining = them for a walk through my first car show, if the Sierran weather = permitted.

Upon arriving home from the Pinnacles trip, my email box was stuffed = with "Kelley Park" messages. There was everything from URLs about the = San Jose Historical Museum, the site of the meet, to phone numbers of = contact people from the Golden Gate Chapter of the Vintage Volkswagen = Club of America. I went online to the rec.auto.makers.vw.aircooled = newsgroup and posted a request for somebody to tell me what went on at = car shows. What ensued was an onslaught of information about shows and = an incredible amount of encouragement to enter the show. When I = discussed it with my significant other, Mark, he too hammered on me to = "GO FOR IT!" It still felt odd to think of putting the Old Girl through = that kind scrutiny, but part of me started to get wiggly at the thought = of sharing her with the world. Could I go through with it? Was she good = enough to show? After all, hadn't I written an article about her, = complete with professional photos, that Hot VWs rejected? Maybe = everybody would reject her. What if people really didn't like her? = Nope, I wouldn't do it. It didn't matter if other people didn't like = her... I created her for myself and it didn't matter what other people = thought! At that justification, I resolved to drive my mom's Mercury = Sable across the Sierra, to join the CCCs for a leisurely walk through = the show as a spectator, not as an exhibitor. That way I could check it = out and if it looked cool I could enter it the following year.

Just as I was feeling comfortable with the idea of going as a = spectator, more email poured in encouraging me to go as an exhibitor. = Even Mark hammered on me and told me that if I went to the show without = Her Majesty I would be fulfilling the prophecy of the recurring dreams = I had been plagued with for over thirty years. The ones where I show up = for competitive events completely ill prepared - like surfing contests = where I show up with downhill skis instead of a surfboard or cross = country ski races where I show up with my moto-cross bike instead of = skis. Ah... how the creative mind can play tricks on itself! He was = right! If I showed up at a vintage VW show without my vintage VW, I = would be living my worst nightmare! If, indeed, I was about to drive = all the way to the Bay Area, I had to take Her Majesty and that meant I = had to enter her in the show! I was committed and was starting to feel = like a little girl the night before her first surfing contest.

In an attempt to find out what I was up against, I emailed "busgirl" = and asked her what she thought of such a wild idea. Having been to the = show in years past, she was quite helpful with display ideas and went = so far as to offer me a place to stay so I could detail the bus after = the long haul over the Sierra. A new email pal, Craig Sauls, was also = a great deal of help. He told me to pack it up, drive over, enter the = show and have fun doing it! This was to be his first show, as well and = that was all he could tell me. It was with the support of Mark and = these two great pals that I embarked upon a four day blitz to prepare = for my first car show.

Day One - I rummaged through all my photos and put together a = chronology of improvements thus far and using PageMaker, I designed = some pages for a scrap book. I printed up and laminated a few little = signs to point out some of Her Majesty's amenities and decided to = dedicate her maiden exhibition to our golden retriever who had recently = left us to swim in Heavenly ponds. This took all day! Just before bed I = grabbed the "Project" clipboard and prioritized what had to be done = before I could leave for Martha's. I always try to follow the "Rule of = the Six Ps," Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance but this = list was overwhelming! Adjust the valves, change the oil, order a new = distributor cap from my pals at the Mammoth Napa Auto, go to the = storage unit and get all the Meguire's polishing compounds, rags, = bucket, Clear Guard... then there was all the stuff I needed for the = display. ARG! All of this in one day? Whataryakiddin'Me? In the throes = of exhaustion, I flicked the clipboard on the couch and went to bed.

The night of Day One was a restless one! I sat up with a jolt and = thought "Girl, what are you getting yourself into?" With a major case = of cold feet, I decided that there was absolutely no way I could get = everything done before I had to leave. Plus, solo? To San Jose? Are you = out of your mind? If you don't get raped, at least the bus will get = stolen or keyed. What a fool! Nope, I wasn't going to do it! If I went, = I would take the Sable, screw the show! With that, I dozed, or tried = to... with an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other having = quite a debate over my future: "You can do it" - "No you can't" - = "Yes you can!" - "You'll lose!!! They'll hate your bus, it's = stoooooopid looking!" - " No it isn't, it's beautiful and who cares = what they think? Just go, be happy, have fun and leave the rest up to = the Universe!" With that, I must have fallen asleep.

Day Two - the Universe must have heard my guardian angel's closing = words, for upon awakening, I was charged with enthusiasm, energy and a = renewed sense of commitment! Now, where is that clipboard? OK! Off to = mom's for the family china and sterling silver, don't forget the = "Scotch Kooler," paisley table cloth, lace napkins, Great-Grandmas cake = pedestal, Grandma Gina's purple, cut glass vase for the deep purple = iris and statice floral arrangement, the Yugoslavian crystal, Baroque = music for the CD player, a magnum of Champagne, a wheel of brie and the = cheese board, a French baguette, the bread knife, some fresh fruit, a = cheese cake, a candy dish to serve matching chocolates... after all, = this was supposed to be a picnic fit for a Queen! Next, to the library = for some books on tape, then down to Crowley to get the Old Girl out of = storage, do the mechanical stuff, go over the tools and spare parts = check list, charge the cellular, gas her up, grab my surfboard, pack my = clothes, update the "To Do" list, email Martha, set the alarm, program = the Universe to watch over me as I embarked on yet another mid-life = celebration and get some sleep, or at least try to.

Day Three - Blast-off Day - 2:45 am - eighteen degrees Fahrenheit, = windy, dark, scary! The trail to the bus was a veritable death walk, = the snow pack had solidified to a silvery sheen and the switch backs to = the road resembled the Khumbu Ice Falls on Everest! Better wake Mark up = so he can help ferry loads. Am I doing the right thing? Oh, who knows, = drink some coffee, caffeine always makes things look better! Start the = Old Girl, let her warm up for at least 5 minutes, crank on the gas = heater, run back inside to give a little dog love to Skadi, grab that = last cup of coffee, negotiate the Khumbu one more time, pop in a = fifteen hour book on tape, turn on the headlights, kiss Mark good-bye. = 4:00 am - we're outahere! The Old Girl purred as we slipped silently = into the pre-dawn chill of the Eastern Sierra. Just as that last cup of = coffee was taking effect, I found myself gaping at Hale-Bopp scudding = across the sky above Mono Lake.

Ever have one of those dreams where you can't scream, or run or do = whatever seems to be the prudent thing to do during a scary dream? = Ever have it happen while you're awake? Well, about 2 hours away from = home, out in the middle of Nevada somewhere, I needed to stop. I needed = to hang a U turn and drive the Old Girl home, back to the safety of my = little cabin at 8,600 feet above sea level, away from San Jose, and as = far away from the perils of the city as I could possibly get! "What in = the world do you think you are doing? Car shows? Really! You're 47 = years old for crying out loud - grow up!" the little voice on my left = shoulder bellowed! The urge to throw Her Majesty into a Bat Turn was so = strong, I can't believe I didn't do it, but some power beyond my = control, kept her wheels pointing straight. Straight in the direction = of Carson Pass, Martha Rubin's driveway and the San Jose Historical = Museum.

After seven hours on the road, I found myself on Martha's doorstep in = the quiet little town of Moraga. She is such a gracious hostess! With = all the fresh orange juice, fat-free bread and soup I could consume, I = started the long, two day detailing process. We had been on the road = for almost two months and she was nowhere near ready for her maiden = exhibition. This was clean the interior day! Six hours into it, Bradley = "Prunehead", Martha and her daughter Sarah made me take a break. They = packed me into Martha's new VW Passat and took me to on a tour of = beautiful downtown Oakland where I picked up the last minute things for = the show. Sleep came swiftly that night. I heard nary a peep from the = debate squad.

Day Four - Exterior Day! Wax on, wax off! I felt as though I had = auditioned for the lead in The Karate Kid! I was wrecked!

The night of day four - the night before the show. As I put myself to = sleep each night, I concentrate on the positive experiences of my day = and project them into the next morning. This way I always have = something nice to wake up to. This evening, I concentrated on the = graciousness of my hostess, her lovely daughter and how nice the bus = looked. In my usual seven syllabled mantra, I repeatedly told myself = that "Everything will be just right!" - "Go, have fun and be happy!"

Again, the Universe must have been with me, Sunday went beautifully! = The volunteers from The Golden Gate Chapter of the Vintage Volkswagen = Club of America were absolutely wonderful! They helped me figure out = what class I belonged in, gave me the perfect place to park along the = restored 1940's streets of the San Jose Historical Museum, delivered a = registration form to me via bicycle messenger and explained that the = show was judged by its contestants and told me what to do.

Feeling a little self conscious, I set up my display, "A Champagne = Brunch Fit for a Queen," quietly turned on the Baroque CDs, and spent = seven of the happiest hours of my life talking to hundreds of VW fans. = There were so many interested spectators, professional photographers, = ladies telling me that they had used the exact Italian tapestry on = their living room furniture, kids wondering if the food in my display = was real or not, teens who totally got off on my paisley outfit, old = dads wishing they had never gotten rid of their old buses, fellow CCC = members dropping by to wish me luck, Internet pals whom I finally met = face-to-face, tech weenies wanting to know everything about the = installation of my gas heater, paint wizards needing to know the exact = name of her purpleness, chrome gurus wondering who did such a killer = job on her bumpers, surfers asking where I surfed, wine connoisseurs = checking out the magnum, college students begging for pieces of the = cheesecake, antique freaks admiring the tableware, classical music = aficionados inquiring about my choice of music, color blind guys asking = me what color she was, testosterone ridden boys proclaiming that she = was a total "Chick Bus!", people wondering what I kept in the Thule = Magic Box and best of all, one darling young snowboarder type who = walked up, shook my hand and said "Now, this bus is in SHAPE!" It was = fabulous!

Toward the end of the day, Martha and Sarah stood by so I could watch = the end of show proceedings which were held in the town square. There = was a raffle, which I had failed to buy tickets for and an awards = ceremony, thank goodness I had voted, where tops in their classes were = honored with lovely plaques. Enthusiastically I cheered as winners = accepted their awards. Best this, best that, smiling faces, "Been there = - Done That" faces - the excited and the blas=E9. Two of our list = members, Jim and Paula Ellis, AKA "Rusty and Cherry Van Bondo", took = second for their perfect 1967 Westy, set up in the genre of the day, in = the "Luxury Class", then my newest e-pal, Craig Sauls, took third place = for his magnificent Crew Cab in the "Working Class." Then... out of = what seemed to be a dream, I heard... "First Place 1968 -1972 Bus" goes = to Kathy Myers!" Hoh Mahn! No way! Me? Her Majesty? DOOD! I got up and = triumphantly strode to the announcer, shook his hand, took my plaque, = turned toward the audience, lifted my paisley skirt to reveal my shiny = purple tights and said, "She's the purple one!" The crowd cheered! I = beamed! The Universe smiled down on us!

YES!

As I fired back to the bus, past many a well wisher, Martha looked up = to see me coming with my plaque. She stood up and welcomed me with open = arms. Millions of hugs and kisses later, it was time to pack it up. = Sarah stayed and helped me wash the sterling, wrap the crystal, discard = the smoldering brie and stow the rest of the display in the Magic Box. = When all was said and done, we joined the CCC pot luck, right outside = the gate, in of all places, a shabby parking lot strewn with the = remains of the pervious night's camp-out.

The pot luck was perfect! Craig Sauls, his lovely wife and their = beautiful daughters set up a remarkable table in the bed of their award = winning Crew Cab complete with yummy fried chicken and rice salad, Al = Hubbard bought pizza from a wandering pizzaman, Al Knoll, the culinary = king in his wildflower hunting cap, threw some snags on the barbie, = "Rusty and Cherry" cranked out a cool and crunchy salad along with some = killer pasta, Russ Ottey and his daughter Tracy made an appearance in = their bluest of blue Porsche and the Earnst family graced us with Cajun = style beans. Sitting amongst the detritus of a weekend passed, we = reveled in our friendships, heralded our accomplishments and pondered = our plans for the future.

It was the weekend to end all weekends!

The Universe was with us!

Kathy Myers and Mark Blanchard Active Periphery Press Blanchard Guitars Mammoth Lakes, CA


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