KOWBOY
President
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2005
- Threads
- 209
- Messages
- 5,878
- Location
- Diggin' mud
- Website
- www.elwoodwhitetrash.com
Well it seemed like a good idea at the time ... make a kamikaze run to the left coast for Surf-N-Turf. After all ... it was two years ago that the original White Trash Roadtrip to SNT, the Hammers and GGG put our club name on the map ... and we weren’t even a club back then. I wanted to go back. But now I done got me the Executive Transporter so I had room for a second rig. The Old Man was the obvious choice. He can fix my Junk when it breaks and he always brings food. Not to mention that his V8 junk would do well on the dunes, all his buddies from the Pirate forum would be there, and the poor bastard just needed a vacation BAD. So I invited ‘im and got the typical low-interest response that would be expected from the Grumpy SOB. Didn’t know if’n he was goin’ or not for a month or so until I gotta phone call sayin’ he would go but we was gonna haul Gary’s pick-up thang instead of his junk ... and Gary would split the fuel cost with me. Most excellent. And then there’s Clutchee. He said he wanted to hitch a ride ... so we let ‘im. Ain’t sure why.
So on Tuesday, Clutchee drove from Redneck land to Elwood and crashed on my couch. At 0600 Wednesday mornin’, we headed into Bonham and grabbed the Old Man and headed West. Damn near made it to Tucumcari, NM when we blew out a trailer tire. No problem ... my two-man pit crew had ‘er changed out in no time. Then the Old Man got on the phone to Baker Tire’s distributer who made some phone calls and tracked down a 14-ply tire for us at a small shop in Tucumcari. Pulled in and had a new spare again in short order. The Old Man’s purdy handy on a roadtrip. And we kept drivin’ ... and drivin’. Got all the way to North side of LA and hit rush hour commutin’ traffic ... at friggin’ 4 o’clock in the mornin’. Weren’t a lick of fun bein’ in that s*** with my 57' rig. We decided quick that we’d never live in such a place. But we fought our way thru it and on up the coast. 1629.3 miles and 30 hours after we left ... we was sittin’ at the entrance to the Beach. Got the paperwork squared away with the most attractive Ranger Lady, threw the Big Ol’ Dodge into 4-low, and hit the sand. Made ‘er within a hun’erd yards of camp ‘fore we got stuck. Unloaded both rigs and used ‘em to strap the truck and trailer up into camp. Then hooked both rigs to Chris and Susan’s $53 motorcoach and yanked ‘er up to camp also. The Commune was established. Last time ya’ll seen Chris and Susan, they was wheelin’ the piss outta that rental PT Cruiser at the Reunion. They seemed a lil’ too classy for The White Trash at the time but we let ‘em join anyways. Now that we’ve seen their assorted fleet of vehicles ... they fit in just fine. The Singin’ Hippie showed up and pitched his tent and we had a fine set-up. Smallest Commune to date but it done us proud. Lighted Flamingos ... twirly flamingos ... caution tape ... and my blow-up doll wearin’ the club t-shirt and sittin’ in the spare 42" IROK up on the top of the gooseneck. The Old Man had even brought an Elwood sign to add to the famous SNT signpost. Life is good.
We spent 72 hours there. Drinkin’ beer ... runnin’ the dunes ... and socializin’. Met a lot of old friends and made new ones ... to damn many for my two fingers to type out. This event is truly the premier social Cruiser event in the country. Nolen showed up in a rental FJ and fawked it up jumpin’ it. We got ‘er bent back in place enuff for the doors to open again and he was able to return it without issue. Gary’s pick-up thang was one of the stars of the show and he had a blast with ‘er till he put a shock thru the radiator to end his fun. The Hippie put on a good show too with his sweet runnin’ lil’ Ty-ota engine. Chris and Susan’s MOST unique 40 played well. That thang is a monument to White Trash engineerin’. Clutchee done rode with anybody and ev’rybody and snapped a helluva lotta pics. I had a blast in my Junk. She kicks ass on the dunes and the sound of ‘er wrapped up to 6 thousand RPM gives me a woody ev’ry time. Burned up my power steerin’ pump again since it just weren’t designed to turn that fast. Knew that would happen though. We got us lots of damn-fine stories to share over a beer for years to come.
We pulled out Sunday mornin’ once the tide went out enuff to get down the Beach and drove ‘er home in 29 hours without incident. So we spent 59 hours in the cab of the Big Ol’ Dodge in order to spend 72 hours on the Beach. Was it worth it? HELL YA!! This is a great event to just hang out in camp with nearly 2 hun’erd cruisers. It lends itself well to just flyin’ in to avoid the drive ... but the drive was part of the adventure. Between my job and my hobby, I reckon I’ve logged as many miles as anybody that don’t drive a truck for a livin’. I’ve driven coast-to-coast 32 times with countless other trips that went over halfway. But I’ve always driven ‘em alone. Ain’t gonna be the same no more. Clutchee and the Old Man were wonderful company and I enjoyed the roadtrip as much as the event. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse here ... but By Gawd ... this s***’s ‘bout the people ... not the trucks. Can’t wait for next year.
So on Tuesday, Clutchee drove from Redneck land to Elwood and crashed on my couch. At 0600 Wednesday mornin’, we headed into Bonham and grabbed the Old Man and headed West. Damn near made it to Tucumcari, NM when we blew out a trailer tire. No problem ... my two-man pit crew had ‘er changed out in no time. Then the Old Man got on the phone to Baker Tire’s distributer who made some phone calls and tracked down a 14-ply tire for us at a small shop in Tucumcari. Pulled in and had a new spare again in short order. The Old Man’s purdy handy on a roadtrip. And we kept drivin’ ... and drivin’. Got all the way to North side of LA and hit rush hour commutin’ traffic ... at friggin’ 4 o’clock in the mornin’. Weren’t a lick of fun bein’ in that s*** with my 57' rig. We decided quick that we’d never live in such a place. But we fought our way thru it and on up the coast. 1629.3 miles and 30 hours after we left ... we was sittin’ at the entrance to the Beach. Got the paperwork squared away with the most attractive Ranger Lady, threw the Big Ol’ Dodge into 4-low, and hit the sand. Made ‘er within a hun’erd yards of camp ‘fore we got stuck. Unloaded both rigs and used ‘em to strap the truck and trailer up into camp. Then hooked both rigs to Chris and Susan’s $53 motorcoach and yanked ‘er up to camp also. The Commune was established. Last time ya’ll seen Chris and Susan, they was wheelin’ the piss outta that rental PT Cruiser at the Reunion. They seemed a lil’ too classy for The White Trash at the time but we let ‘em join anyways. Now that we’ve seen their assorted fleet of vehicles ... they fit in just fine. The Singin’ Hippie showed up and pitched his tent and we had a fine set-up. Smallest Commune to date but it done us proud. Lighted Flamingos ... twirly flamingos ... caution tape ... and my blow-up doll wearin’ the club t-shirt and sittin’ in the spare 42" IROK up on the top of the gooseneck. The Old Man had even brought an Elwood sign to add to the famous SNT signpost. Life is good.
We spent 72 hours there. Drinkin’ beer ... runnin’ the dunes ... and socializin’. Met a lot of old friends and made new ones ... to damn many for my two fingers to type out. This event is truly the premier social Cruiser event in the country. Nolen showed up in a rental FJ and fawked it up jumpin’ it. We got ‘er bent back in place enuff for the doors to open again and he was able to return it without issue. Gary’s pick-up thang was one of the stars of the show and he had a blast with ‘er till he put a shock thru the radiator to end his fun. The Hippie put on a good show too with his sweet runnin’ lil’ Ty-ota engine. Chris and Susan’s MOST unique 40 played well. That thang is a monument to White Trash engineerin’. Clutchee done rode with anybody and ev’rybody and snapped a helluva lotta pics. I had a blast in my Junk. She kicks ass on the dunes and the sound of ‘er wrapped up to 6 thousand RPM gives me a woody ev’ry time. Burned up my power steerin’ pump again since it just weren’t designed to turn that fast. Knew that would happen though. We got us lots of damn-fine stories to share over a beer for years to come.
We pulled out Sunday mornin’ once the tide went out enuff to get down the Beach and drove ‘er home in 29 hours without incident. So we spent 59 hours in the cab of the Big Ol’ Dodge in order to spend 72 hours on the Beach. Was it worth it? HELL YA!! This is a great event to just hang out in camp with nearly 2 hun’erd cruisers. It lends itself well to just flyin’ in to avoid the drive ... but the drive was part of the adventure. Between my job and my hobby, I reckon I’ve logged as many miles as anybody that don’t drive a truck for a livin’. I’ve driven coast-to-coast 32 times with countless other trips that went over halfway. But I’ve always driven ‘em alone. Ain’t gonna be the same no more. Clutchee and the Old Man were wonderful company and I enjoyed the roadtrip as much as the event. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse here ... but By Gawd ... this s***’s ‘bout the people ... not the trucks. Can’t wait for next year.
. Next year for sure.
education.
This is due to the stupid, moronic, imbecile of a freakin' computer logging me off 
I almost pushed the computer off onto the floor 
