Ode To The 2008 N.T.B.A. Nats September 9, 2008

[WebMistress]

I didn’t think I’d be doing this due to my medical detour in June. But, as I recovered I thought I might try in spite of the late timing. I’ll issue the usual disclaimer that this is an account of what the pups and I experienced at the Nats this year and by no means complete. I ended up talking to many members for a memory refresher. They included: Weelstang & Wanda, Punkun, Rose, Charles & Lavelle. Hope I didn’t leave anyone out.

Ode To The 2008 N.T.B.A. Nats

I won’t write the usual words that land here each year, About the
dates, having come and gone, for the event we hold so dear. I’m way
after the facts with this year’s attempt to recall, Memories of the
NATS, while happy to be here at all.

The Heart Hospital of Austin provided a detour I could not refuse,
There, a stint was installed so that my heart, I could continue to use.
By eliminating the ninety-five percent blockage that did abuse,
That ‘invalid’ state that I’ve been in, I now gladly excuse.

Now to mention the Springfield Nats and some things that occurred.
Thank the Lord that my memory is not completely blurred.
For the Springfield Nats were as great as any in our history,
And those in attendance would say, “That’s no big mystery!”

The pups and I arrived on Friday the thirteenth, not a popular date,
But, except for some St. Louis rain and gas prices, our trip was great!
Although, to clean the grime from the T, it took two days,
And with no shade, within which to clean, I was left in a daze.

By Sunday evening we were ready to traverse the Springfield streets,
An early call to Weelstang revealed the encounter of unexpected treats.
Delaying his noon arrival from Albert Lea with many others in tow,
Extensive flooding bought minor roads, they were glad for not having to row.
Their pace was slowed, as they rode, making turns through each town,
Arriving at the Route Sixty-Six, it was Sunday night when they finally sat down.

By Monday morning the ‘early birds’ began to move around,
Deciding to have breakfast at Charlie’s Restaurant just outside of town.
I was able to find an empty chair at a table with Punkun, Pokey and T-Odd,
Charlie’s parking lot was filled with many nice looking T-Rods!

Once inside, the walls were bright, with a ‘car like’ atmosphere,
The menu listed a challenge, with rules to which a ‘taker’ must adhere.
Charlie’s served pancakes that were of the most humongous type,
Each one of these ‘critters’ was as big as a ten inch irrigation pipe!

The challenge was to eat a ‘stack’ of four, and there would be no charge,
But, if one could down all four he would approach the size of a barge.
Pokey considered the four pancake challenge, but opted for only one,
I couldn’t stay for the end, but when I left Pokey was half way done.
While Pokey was pancake slicing, many pictures were taken,
Any of you that see those pics, please notice, there’s no side of bacon.

Last year I mentioned the importance of ice cream to our little group,
That desire would continue Monday evening as we did troupe,
To Cold Stone Ice Cream on one of Springfield’s downtown streets,
Where many Bucketheads took advantage of the varied menu of treats.

All the Bucketheads flocked in and created a very long line,
So I jumped in at the end; for me that was fine.
I now had a few minutes to peruse the menu, border to border, When my time came I placed a Strawberry-Banana ice cream order.
But, when it arrived at the register, it wasn’t what I’d ordered at all,
Then I realized that I cannot read, as evidenced by my obvious wrong call.

I did not understand why my ice cream eating experience did stall,
The Lord was saying, “Impending matters require NO ingesting of cholesterol.”
This was an unheard order I’m sure, for now, in my mind it stays,
He seems to always take care of me as I plunge into my future ways.

I’ve been told that there was an ‘ice cream run’ for all the remaining nights,
But, for a previous mentioned reason I guess, I joined none of those flights.
So, I’m no longer ashamed that I was unable to read,
I now understand that I was adhering to the Lords silent lead.
And aspirin is my friend since I ‘popped’ them four at a time,
They thinned my blood, to flow past that ‘crud’, I’m here to write this rhyme.

Tuesday morning it was important that I find some supplies without delay,
With gas prices as high as they were, I’d brought sandwich makings for each day.
My stash of pumpernickel was completely depleted,
I was directed to the County Market where the bread might be repleted.

Upon reaching the grocery store I spied Charles and Lavelle on their way out,
They joined the pups and I in the parking lot after a brief turn about.
I explained why I was at the store; my words were no more than said,
When Charles revealed that he was also a big fan of that black bread.
He had discovered the bakery’s daily loaves saying, “They are baked quite right.”
While in Springfield I ended up buying three loaves of that ‘black delight’!

By this time, to my surprise, many more T’s had arrived,
I had found ‘Wally-World’, after getting lost, as usual I survived.
The reason for the trip was that nightly temps were bordering on cold,
And when it comes to driving in those temps, I’m no longer bold.

With my light jacket left at home, I’d need a new one to wear,
I couldn’t believe it, ‘Wally-World’ did not have one there.
But, a surprise awaited me upon the return to my hotel,
Someone had left me a hooded sweater that would work just as well.

The person that had left this item did not leave their name,
I immediately suspected Weelstang, our own ‘Prez’ of fame.
But, when asked, Bill indicated that it was not him,
Which caused me to ponder who it might have been!

I’m still not sure that Weelstang’s name is the true identity,
To the person that had bestowed upon me this amenity.
Regardless, I’d like to thank the one who I do not know,
Who it is, I’d still like to know and how much do I owe?

From Tuesday to Wednesday evening everybody was on their own,
Wednesday evening we were to gather at our Route Sixty-Six home.
It was time for a special event known as ‘The Tamale Throw Down’,
This event draws a crowd because it’s so gastronomically sound.
And, as in previous years, within each tamale great flavor was abound,
When the Bucketheads finally finished, no remaining tamales were found.

Al and Shirley had arrived on Wednesday to stay at the Super Eight,
They were in her ‘Kermit’ car; having them at our hotel would be great!
But, something happened concerning the room they had on reserve,
With no help from the manager and treatment they did not deserve,
Al decided that a move to the Travelodge would be a cure,
But, before they left, Shirley got even, of that I am sure.

Two more Bucketheads picked our hotel for their Nats stay,
‘Lee in KC’ brought his T; Robert Buckles had trouble on the way.
Robert was Springfield bound when his T bearing trailer broke,
The trailer is being repaired for making the 0-Nine Nats, that is his hope.

Thursday is the official opening day for our N.T.B.A. Nats each year,
And the starting time for our first O-Eight tour was drawing near.
We would cruise to Barry, Punkun’s home, about eighty miles away,
To park on the town square and have a Bar-B-Que lunch at mid day.

When we started move I noticed that the T in front of us was a ‘Jag-in-law’,
When I sought to identify the license plate, California was what I saw.
I had heard that a California T was driven the twenty-four hundred miles plus,
At a short fuel stop I asked and the driver said, “Yes, that would be us”.

I wrote down their names, Steve and Pat Arnold, so that I would not forget,
They verified their drive from the west coast, it would be a safe bet.
The story turned out to be correct, so that ended any mystery,
They had actually joined Weelstang at the previous event in Albert Lea.

Then we got back on the road to Barry for that Bar-B-Que lunch,
The T’s that parked on the town square could be numbered as ‘a bunch’.
The pups and I sat with Chrome Dome briefly in the shade of a tree,
While other Bucketheads roamed about downtown for a ‘look-see’.

Shortly after that, the food line began to form,
I joined at the end of the line, which for me is a norm.
In front of me was T-Odd and Hemi-T; we talked as the line moved along,
But, after I got my plate, I noticed that something was terribly wrong.
I had no wallet with which to pay after my hand made a rear pocket dive,
However, I was rescued by T-Odd when he loaned me the five.

We returned to Springfield at our leisure, with lunch at an end,
To gather at the Route Sixty-Six that night, for a lake cruise to begin.
When I got lost going to ‘Wally-World’, I saw a lot of the lake,
Having already been down West Lake Shore Drive, this cruise I did not take.

Friday there was another breakfast at Charlie’s, I wish I’d made that run,
For all in attendance, it must have been fun, except for maybe one.
Remember that four pancake challenge, from which Pokey did steer clear?
Josh Ashlock, son of John and Rose, took that challenge with no fear!
Hopes were high and, alas, ‘The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak’,
Josh could only manage to poke half of those four through his cheeks!

Friday most of the T’s were at the Route Sixty-Six,
The target environment was rich for those taking pics.
Later in the evening we would cruise to Springfield’s downtown square,
Led by a police escort all the way, we found our spot and parked there.

Downtown shops remained open during our stay,
Bucketheads covered them well, walking every which way.
With the pups in tow I elected to stand in the blocked off street,
And converse with any Buckethead that I, by chance, might meet.

Upon exiting my T I first talked with Kevin, better known as ‘Hi Tec’,
Kevin is another ‘Jag-in-law’ with a T detailed in every aspect.
Then I walked to where ‘Gordo’ was in the middle of the block,
He had new L E D tail lights on his T, the brightness of which I took stock.

Talking to Gordon for most of the evening did, in retrospect, remind me,
The reason for attending the Nats transcends counting the T’s that I see.
It’s for the renewed fellowship with Bucketheads, no matter how many or few,
Including old acquaintances along with some that, previously, I never knew.

We have continually referred to our ‘little car club’ as a tight knit family,
And nineteen ninety-eight is where you’ll be led if you trace our family tree.
Thanks to all our previous administrations along with the present one we see,
Each was essential and successful, else, today our existence would not be.

The pups and I were ready to leave when ‘Toolman’ walked by,
Tim is always interesting to talk with, about that I cannot lie.
He mentioned problems with the new fuel pump and injection on his car,
But, by making the correct repairs, his T was still on the road thus far.
With our conversation finished the pups and I headed for the Super Eight,
Detouring by the County Market for another Pumpernickel loaf to take.

Saturday we headed for the Route Sixty-Six and our final festivities,
I had seen several new T’s in attendance during the week of activities.
Upon arrival ‘Toolman’ had us park next to him in an empty slot,
I noticed one of those new T’s after we parked, just behind our spot.

It was orange and low, another ‘Jag-in-law’, owned by the wife of ‘1crzyt’,
Warren wants to build a clone, I wonder what his new handle will be?
Another new T was of the touring type, composed of original tin,
It was found on a farm, in a barn with all parts present to begin.
The surfaces were smooth, straight and as glossy black as sin,
This was the ‘coolest’ state in which this T had ever been.

There were also a couple of Track-T’s I had not seen before,
One was red and blue; the other was covered in yellow galore.
I did not find out about the red-blue T over which I had mused,
But, the yellow T owner said a Zipper Body was what he used.

We were down in numbers at one hundred forty-eight T’s this year,
Every T was worthy of mention, but there’s not enough room here.
So, I will mention one more T because of its’ extended wheel base,
I didn’t find out the distance, but it covered a lot of space.
The reason being that it had two engines by which it was propelled,
I was joined by many others when taking pics, we were all compelled.

The engines were placed tandem with a little space in between,
Joined by a clear topped box where a short drive shaft could be seen.
It was started up to watch the driveshaft turn and hear the engines run,
The fact that the T had been driven in proved that it could be done.

Saturday I was only in the sun when my pics were being made,
The rest of the time, the pups and I were completely engulfed in shade.
We sat with ‘Lincolnut’, close to where the valve cover races would be,
From that vantage point, all the races we should be able to see.

In front of us and to the left sat ‘Hemi-T’ for all the day,
Did I mention that for the entire time, he would be our DJ?
He sat behind a complicated console; in operating it, he knew his way,
After selecting a tune from the screen, he’d push a button to make it play.
And he played great selections, tune after tune,
To the end of our ‘Show and Shine’, shortly after noon.

The time finally arrived for the first valve cover race,
The slanted raceway suddenly became an occupied place,
‘Uncle Larry’ participated in, and also hosted the event,
But did not accept an award for how fast his ‘cover’ went.

You could tell by watching that Bucketheads cherish this event,
To create these ‘valve cover racers’, a lot of effort was spent.
Not one of the ‘racers’ was ever left forlorn,
That was evident by the way they were adorned.
‘Stock’ and ‘Modified’ were the classes in which to run,
All the ‘racers’ were classified, ready to begin the fun.
Pair after pair went down the track, their beauty to stun,
During the competition two speeds ruled; fast and faster one.
Warner Schafer’s was first and BT’s second with the Stock Class done,
In Modified class ‘Gordo’s’ was second; Pete Neustad’s was first and won.

‘Show and Shine’ ended, it was time for our ‘National Meeting to begin,
‘Weelstang’ called the meeting to order, imparting information with no ‘spin’.
He said the 0-Nine Nats would be in North Carolina, in the town of Lenoir,
And the number of hotels available would be limited to just four.

The National Meeting came to an end with all the business concluded,
Once again our current administration should be saluted.
It seems that the success of our Nats each year soars a little bit higher,
Which fuels the anticipation of next year’s Nats, keeping us on fire.
By the way, how long is it before all of us will meet in Lenoir?
Never mind, I flounder, counting days is something I must ignore!

By evening time the pups and I were at the hotel all settled in,
When the first of two unexpected visits would begin.
There was a tapping on our outside window and a hand motioning to me,
It was clear that the parking lot was where I needed to be.
The hand was attached to ‘Lincolnut’ and his wife was with him to,
He said, “Angel has something that she wants to give to you!”

Angel handed me something that, I think, she called a ‘wrap’
, It could be folded around various objects to hold, it needed no strap.
It was sixteen by twenty-eight inches of cloth material, bordered in red,
The Illinois map was on one side; eight T’s on the other; “This is beauty” I said.

Mike, I’ve never known a man married to two Angel’s, that’s the facts,
Your Angel is an Angel by name, but she’s also another Angel by her acts.
And Angel, I can tell you that the ‘Wrap’ is on the safest part of my wall,
It will never wrap around anything cause it’s beauty will be on display for all.

Later in the evening I went out to put the cover on my T,
When I heard a car enter the parking lot, it sounded like a T to me.
It turned out to be Dale and Teresa, our own Mr. and Mrs. V.P.,
While I talked to Teresa, for some reason, Dale was an absentee.

Dale finally joined Teresa and I, explaining what he had done,
He had been at the hotel office taking care of something I had won.
The N.T.B.A. held drawings for a “free room” at each hotel this year,
I had won a one night “free room” credit, that’s why Dale was here.

For the pups and I, Saturday night was a beautiful close to our N.T.B.A. meet,
We already anticipate the 0-Nine Nats to once again ‘pound’ the street.
And just as with all previous Nats, this one was a little bit better,
I expect to hold the 0-Nine Nats to the said same letter.

We broke our ‘one way mileage’ record this year with one thousand-three,
Next year we estimate that thirteen hundred is what our trip meter will see.
So, I’m hoping by next year’s Nats, gas prices will be down,
But, if not, I’ll work for an answer to attend and ‘hang around’!

Herman T. Quackenbush June 9,2008
Aka T-Pilot with Pups
Aka John Eplen

I had to have help from Weelstang, Wanda, Punkun, Rose, Charles & Lavelle