So anyway...
Sunday March 21 was selected as the day for the British Motorcar Club of
Southern New Mexico's First Annual Rites of Spring Gathering and Hobo
Stew Cook-O-Rama. Oh, I know, some of you will be taking issue with that
"First Annual" designation but I say it with all confidence. An event
this good has to be an annual, as opposed to our club meetings which are
perennial though sometimes they feel positively perpetual.
Janet and I intended to participate but what should we drive to the
event? Since "Yellow," the Morgan, is still hors d'combat in both the
front SU department and the lower radiator hose department and "Tigger"
the Tiger had the last outing a couple of weeks ago, our selected
vehicle was my bride of nearly 34 years' Alpine, "'Beamish." Janet was
up at the crack of dawn, putting the finishing touches on one of our
contributions to the Rites of Spring Hobo meal, a little gem we like to
refer to as Easter Bunny a la Roadkill.
This event, incidentally, was the brain child of our multi-talented and
intrepid Activities Director, Walt Kowalski, who claims the way the
event works is we all tour out to the selected venue in our LBC's and
everyone who attends is required to throw something into the communal
pot o'stew... To keep the communal contributions in the realm of the
semi-reasonable, all attendees are also required to eat some of the
stew. That is really the only control on the ingredients and I guess if
somebody had brought tripe, why I would have eaten tripe. Yecchhh! As it
was, some barbarian brought mushrooms so I ate fungus. Somebody else
brought canned rutabaga so I can testify that, Yes Virginia, they, too,
are edible, and, Yes Virginia, I really do understand why most of the
world considers them animal fodder.
In addition to the stew contributions, everybody brings along a salad,
an appetizer, or a dessert which is pretty good insurance in case the
communal stew turns out to be really inedible, which, let's face it, is
well within the realm of the possible.
The venue for this Cook O'Rama was the Fort Selden State Monument and I
know what you're thinking: "Geeez... Once you've seen one pile of adobe
rubble, you've seen every pile of adobe rubble." Well, I can't argue
with you there, even though some particular pile of rubble out there was
the boyhood home of Douglas McArthur, but I don't know if he ever
returned to Fort Selden or, as far as that goes, if he even promised to
return.
The top 5 reasons to hold the event at Fort Selden are:
5. Nice people run the place and they invited us!
4. The large parking lot has trees along the east side.
3. Said parking lot is rarely full.
2. Clean bathrooms with running water!
And the number one reason to have an event at Fort Selden....
1. Twenty twisty blacktop miles out of town!
It was already over 60 degrees F at 8:30 when I jumped in and fired up
the 'Beamish Boy and pulled him around to one of the garden hoses where
I asked the recalcitrant Janet to kind of squirt him down in the faint
hope that he might look at least slightly less neglected if we rinsed
off the dust. By 8:45 me and Janet--with me driving, ain't she good to
me?--headed up the drive in the now muddy 'Beamish while Janet practiced
not saying "I told you so." She is very good at that as she gets lot of
practice.
Ten minutes and ten miles later we slowed down to make the right turn
off US 70 to Lucky's-Save On and 'Beamish's inside rearview mirror fell
off and smacked my knee, perhaps in silent protest at having been hosed
when a full wash was what was called for, which is what Janet claimed.
So, anyway...
We were exactly on time and the only folks already at Lucky's were Joe
and Jill Kowalski--bother and sister-in-law, respectively, of our
intrepid Activities Director --in their MGB and Joe Machado in his
Ranger ('cause the 60 mile trip from El Paso would likely take his
loverly little Spridget about 3 days). Next to arrive were Richard and
Charlotte Johnson in their very nice '59 Bugeye Sprite. Followed by the
Mackleys in an Alfa and then in came Walt and son Walter Kowalski in one
of Walt's MGB's which, we soon learned, had developed electric fuel pump
probs at the top of the hill. We had an interesting discussion about the
preferred tool for banging on a recalcitrant SU pump with me holding out
for a 3/4" box end which I feel is the perfect weight while some others
were avid about the advantages of a 18" breaker bar.
Then somebody noticed a little bit of water under the Bugeye which led
to the discovery of a tiny hole in a radiator hose but Richard used to
be a Boy Scout so he whipped out a NOS hose and a screwdriver and turned
to, jerking the nasty old hose in nothing flat. Unfortunately, as
Richard installed the new hose, it too turned pretty nasty pretty
quickly, tearing just the tiniest bit preparatory to splitting up the
whole length as he attempted to shove it onto the radiator, which just
goes to show that "new old stock" don't necessarily mean "good old
stock. " All this in the middle of Lucky's parking lot. Sigh...
Whilst the rest of the group worked at shortening the old hose just
enough to cut off the pinhole and not too much to still reach from the
engine--that's that little bit under the bonnet which is about the size
of a lunch box--to the radiator, it was decided that some of us, namely
the Cobb's and the Joe Kowalski's, should go on out to the Fort to meet
up with the club members who had planned to go straight there. Sure
enough when we arrived after a thoroughly enjoyable tour we found our
President Emeritus waiting to pass over the club's big sunshade.
After we parked someone mentioned that 'Beamish's tail pipe seemed
awfully close to the ground. You guessed it, 'Beamish's tail pipe
suspension had given up the ghost and, much to my embarrassment, I found
myself laying on the ground with pliers and a roll of electrical wire (I
wasn't carrying baling wire, if you can imagine that!) whilst I made
emergency repairs. First the mirror, then the tailpipe... I pointed out
to Janet that her car was falling apart and I assure you that she said
nothing in reply, at least nothing which is printable.
By the time we finished erecting the sunshade, club cars were arriving
right and left...
The Walt and Walter MGB was closely followed by another MGB and Connie
Maxwell and Larry McMillan in Connie's beautiful XJS. A nicely done MGA
Coupe and an Austin-Healey 3000 followed, and so forth. The Johnson
Bugeye with the original, albeit reworked, hose reinstalled arrived in
good form... Eventually the roster of attendees reached 25 people, a
remarkably good turnout for our little club.
The always lovely Cheryl Kowalski arrived in the family SUV which was
stuffed to the gunwales with chairs, tables, and food and The Clan
Kowalski promptly got the stew pot simmering over a really roaring
propane fire and began adding the goodies provided by us British Car
Hobos. (The Cobb contribution to the pot was canned new potatoes
and--you guessed it--canned chiles!)
So, anyway...
The most noteworthy contributions to the stew were: Pork and beef (to
form the stock which Joe Kowalski boiled down the night before),
potatoes, tomatoes, boned chicken, chiles, mushrooms, and pre-cooked
pasta. There were lots of other less usual--dare I say "less
savory?"--ingredients, but those items dominated.
Side dishes included taco salad, pasta salad, home made bread (three
kinds of butter!), corn bread, three kinds of chips, cheese and
crackers, and on and on and on...
After simmering for about two hours the stew was pronounced ready and
everyone dug in. And yes, everyone had some, even Walt Kowalski who had
a doctor's excuse and could (perhaps should) have easily avoided the
experience. I ate mine and pronounced it both wholesome and toothsome,
though I admit to separating out the fungus and presenting same as an
offering to the coyotes and other Gods of the desert.
Dessert offerings included Joe Machado's cheesecake and my lovely bride
of 34 years' cupcakes baked in the shape of bunnies, frosted in white
with pink ears and noses and blue eyes and with black tire tread marks
across their furry little middles... The tread pattern was remarkably
Pirrelli-like...
Actually, everyone enjoyed the stew almost as much as the sunny 80
degree driving weather and the fine companionship.
When we drove home we went by way of the freeway and 'Beamish's bonnet
popped open. First the mirror, then the tailpipe, then the bonnet... All
this because, as Janet claims, I didn't wash the little dear as I had
promised I would? Maybe so, maybe not, but next time I am reaching for
the bucket before we head out!
--END--
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