Ode To The 2010 NTBA Nats October/22/2010

[WebMistress]

Yipee! Wow! And to that, add a ‘Woe-is-me,
I must find words to describe how great our Nats tuned out to be.
The two-thousand-ten Nats certainly contained its’ own unique flavor,
For all those attending this year, that taste was met with great favor

The pups and I followed our usual routine, adopted as of late,
We leave a week before the Nats event because we so anticipate,
Reassembling our ‘Buckethead’ family of friends, the fellowship is great.
But, an unpleasant occurrence has begun to appear, it’s one I really hate,
Somewhere between us and the Nats site a storm will most likely lay in wait!

Leaving early on Thursday the tenth found us at dusk in Amarillo,
As we filled with fuel at Love’s, a storm caught us like a still, standing armadillo.
It was almost dark before we were able to drive out of the muck,
I knew what awaited my Colorado Springs arrival with this ‘clean again’ bad luck.

After a cold night we arrived on Friday at our Colorado Springs, Days Inn destination,
But, we arrived too early to check into our room despite our early registration.
So, we went for food at a Safeway store and found it without any frustration,
Then we checked in, but I decided to not begin the dreaded, cleaning restoration.

Saturday morning I realized the air was still cold as I awoke from my doze,
The next few days intermittent cleaning attempts often left me feeling froze.
I was kept off my schedule by ‘wet weather’ assaults; one morning we even had hail,
And Pike’s Peak was frozen and closed, but would reopen without fail.

It was great to see fellow ‘Bucketheads’ arrive at our Days Inn,
On Saturday Charles and Lavelle plus Eggy came in to end their approaching spin.
Following closely on their heels on Sunday was an NTBA ‘long distance runner’.
All the way, from San Jose, came Steve Arnold with his grandson named Hunter.

By Monday morning the weather cleared up and I finished cleaning my T,
From this point forward those polishing clothes were the last things I wanted to see.
More Bucketheads gradually arrived at our hotel location,
As the numbers increased we formed our own ‘Days Inn, T-Bucket Nation’!

Larry and Morine Meyer were ‘first timers’ with their wine colored track T,
Connie Kalitta’s crew chief is what Larry used to be.
He built the twenty-three track T twenty five years ago,
This T had many interesting facets if one perused it slow.

Tom and Jan Buckley were also early arrivals with their blue T in tow,
If I remember correctly, Norm and Dottie stayed in a room just down the row.
Reese Walker and Alan Guyse brought their fine T’s which were parked close to us,
My ‘foggy’ ole memory cannot recall more arrivals cause it’s gone bust.

Early arrivals at the Crowne Plaza began stopping by,
Rolla was our earliest visitor, he came over to say, “Hi!”
And I dare not forget another pair that I was privileged to see,
Dale and Teresa also stopped by, our very own Mr. and Mrs. ‘VP’!

Tuesday morning a cruise to Cripple Creek was scheduled for nine,
The pups and me could not get organized enough to leave at a reasonable time.
So, we started preparing for the evening cruise to make this scheduled event,
Two blocks down the road is where we would be sent.

We parked the T and started walking through the hot rod filled parking lots,
Then we suddenly saw some familiar faces known as the Ashlocks.
We hadn’t seen John, Rose and Brian in many moons, they were a welcome sight,
We had ample leisure time to review some history with great delight.

The Ashlocks held the pups while I found out what Culver’s food was like,
I must say it was really good, I liked it from the first bite.
After finishing the meal I returned to the pups, we had more rods to see,
Once finished with our looks we prepared to leave and returned to our T.

Upon reaching our parking spot we suddenly met Dottie and Tub-T,
We also met Big Bill, the host of next year’s Dayton Nats where we plan to be.
Punkun and Melinda were the last of our family to meet before returning to our hotel,
It was the perfect way to end our first cruise night that had gone so well.

Wednesday morning the pups and I had to be up and out fairly early,
We were due at the Crowne Plaza to leave on a cruise starting at eight-thirty.
The Air Force Academy was our destination on the northward bound freeway,
And after touring this site, I can truly attest, it’s worth viewing on any day.

Upon returning from the Air Force Academy our luck suddenly ran out,
A huge pothole, at the Days Inn entry, engaged our crank mounted fan in a serious bout.
The hole, previously avoided, bottomed out one front wheel well below the surface line,
The radiator cleared the surface edge; not so the fan with an impact not fine.

That caused one fan blade to become overly affectionate with our radiator,
When the antifreeze spewed over the windshield it meant the hangar for this T aviator.
Sure enough, with the engine at rest, a doubled over blade was in the fins, buried deep,
Sixteen-hundred dollar signs flashed in my eyes; this Jim Babb piece was not cheap!

My mind was cluttered for a while till I realized that I must call my brother,
Within the confines of my shop was a new brass radiator; yes I had another.
It was built by Bill Isley after the K.C. Nats, too long a story to tell,
I gave my brother all the info as to its location and to send by the shortest spell.

Getting the replacement sent our way took most of Wednesday afternoon,
I started taking the damaged radiator out and realized that would not be soon.
Two Bucketheads, Reese Walker and Alan Guyse, offered to lend a helping hand,
Without their help I would never have gotten that radiator out to sit on dry land.

All the commotion caused me to forget that this was the arrival day for Bew-T,
And, almost at that moment, she arrived thanks to Lee from K.C.
Since Tom’s passing, this was the first Nats Bew-T had been to,
I told her that she should make the Nats visit a habit to continue.

By now the time was nearing for our traditional ‘Tamale Dinner’,
It’s hosted by the New Mexico Chapter and is always a BIG WINNER.
Tacos and beans with tamales provided by Lincolnut numbered twelve dozen,
Then came fantastic pumpkin cheesecake, its baker became every ones favorite cousin.

That baker was Steve Arnold who drives his T from California each year,
He also baked two types of cookies, making our dessert a three tier.
Punkun collaborated with Steve for one addition that was fine,
Only produced in Punkun’s ‘hood’, it was a tasty pumpkin wine.

As usual, so many attended that they could be numbered by the score,
Food was plentiful, so we were urged to keep returning for more.
I went back to my room since tomorrow was scheduled to be a busy day,
I sought to have my radiator repaired even though a new one was on its way.

Tom Buckley loaned me his pickup on Thursday to search for a radiator repair,
He and Jan would be gone on cruises that day in that rarefied air.
When I arrived at the radiator shop the repairman did not want the job,
The hours would be so many; his charge would be as if to rob.

I headed back toward the Days Inn since it had a hot rod shop that was near,
They had a fan blade that I would need for the new radiator upon its arrival here.
A Walmart was on my way so I loaded up with distilled water and antifreeze,
At the rod shop I found the perfect fan blade, I was surely pleased.

Now I could go back to the Days Inn and return Tom’s truck,
Finding that replacement fan was a necessary stroke of luck.
I guess the Royal Gorge and Pikes Peak tours must have gone well,
Since Tom, Jan and the other cruisers were returning to the hotel.

Friday arrived with many activities listed on the slate,
There was Seven Falls; Helen Hunt falls with Garden of the God’s gate opening at eight.
A Flying W ranch dinner was scheduled for the evening, but not too late,
I would be bound to the Days Inn; a Fed Ex delivered radiator would cause me to wait.

Fed Ex arrived early Friday morning with the package I sought,
Steve Arnold volunteered to help me install the radiator and new fan I had bought.
We soon found out that the crank mounted fan extension was much too long,
Steve knew where there was a lathe; he took the extension and was quickly gone.

Before Steve returned, the pups and I had visitors just after noon,
Toolman was the first to drive up and park outside our room.
I hadn’t talked to Toolman in quite a while, our conversation was lively and fine,
Little did we know that someone else would join us in a short amount of time.

Next came Don Ebert, our BBS Webmaster know as TNT,
Considering all the people attending our Nats, Don was the last one I expected to see.
It was great to talk with my North Texas Chapter friends; our visit was going well,
Then came another knock on the door and we were joined by Charles and Lavelle.

A good host I was not; everyone had to stand with no room to roam,
Covering the floor was the radiator shipping case and peanuts made of Styrofoam.
The afternoon waned as our conversation made us oblivious to time,
Then, suddenly, I heard the sound of Steve’s diminutive blower whine.

Our conversation ended as Steve and I prepared to toil,
We hoped that this mounting of the fan would not end in a foil.
As we proceeded we learned that the tolerances were close,
But, with much persistence we succeeded without becoming verbose.

I had trouble mounting my moto-meter wings forward which left me in a ‘stew’,
After filling the radiator I started my ole three-0-two.
When the thermostat opened I was elated that nothing blew,
Toolman had invited me to the Crowne Plaza for hamburgers, that time was nearly due.

After a quick cleanup the pups and me jumped into our T,
It was a short drive across two parking lots to where the burgers would be.
As we neared Toolman’s place Kevin shouted a greeting that was loud,
He’s on a roll with not tickets since Branson, I’m sure that makes him proud.

We pulled up and parked where the burgers were to be,
I got out and prepared to let the pups out of the T,
As I glanced at the radiator I was horrified to see,
Liquid coming out from the moto-meter, and it was NOT iced tea.

A quick, tightening turn brought the leak to an abrupt stop,
Since polished brass and antifreeze don’t mix, we returned to our room in a fast hop.
There would be no burgers for us this night; I had brass to be polished,
The moto-meter wings would be backwards if the leak was to be abolished.

We were ready for the usual Saturday ‘Show and Shine’,
Off to the Crowne Plaza we drove, arriving with trailer in tow, shortly after nine.
Dale led us to a spot up front where there was a tree that offered shade,
Our thanks go to Dale because it was the best choice that could be made.

By the time we got situated, Uncle Larry was cranking up the race track,
The competition seems to increase each year, most of last year’s racers come back.
“There’s beauty in them-there valve covers folks, I’m here to tell you true!”
And there’s no telling how much construction time was required, I don’t have a clue.

Then there was the Crazy “T”, when you turned left you would go right,
I think the politicians in Washington should drive this T to improve their sight!
Speedway also had a booth set up at our Crowne Plaza ‘Show and Shine’ site,
With all our T’s outside, under the sun, everything was ‘shiny’ and bright.

Local visitors blanketed our show; they seemed to be pleased with the view,
Time seemed to pass quickly as the hour of our ‘Business Meeting’ came due.
The meeting was presided over by Weelstang and Dale,
Through the prescribed agenda they promptly set sail.
Dayton, Ohio was officially announced as the two-thousand-eleven Nats site,
As the meeting ended, the pups and I prepared to linger one more night.

Sunday morning we began our return trip, not too late,
I think the clock face showed the little hand on eight.
As usual I was beginning to suffer the ole ‘departure blues’,
I began to miss the presence of my NTBA family on this homeward cruise.

The pups and I enjoyed pleasant weather while heading for the Texas border,
The daytime kept us dry and well; for me the perfect order.
But, negative weather entered our path at Plainview, Texas as darkness fell,
It wasn’t long before I realized that we had driven into a tornadic hell.
Raindrops stung the side of my face feeling like sand blasting gravel,
I wanted to be a ‘Weather Judge’ so I could end this assault with my gavel.

I fashioned a prayer and question to the Lord, formed in a shout,
“Is this Your forewarning that it’s our time to check out?”
But, as usual, in His own divine way, He guided us through
, We had survived our all time worst ‘turbulent stew’!

It’s obvious that we made it home alright cause we’re still here today,
Despite many ‘bumps’ in this Nats road, we look forward to that Dayton date day.
For this verse, these are the final words; to reach them I’ve had to strain,
Maybe next year I won’t have to fashion words from a slow moving, A. Fib. Brain.

Herman T. Quackenbush October 14, 2010
Aka: T-Pilot with Pups
Aka: John Eplen