Twelve Central Texas Region members met on Friday morning to convoy to Victoria. Vic and Jan, Stan and Corky, Jerry and Mary Ann, and Dan and Kay trailered cars behind their motor homes. J and Ruthie and Ruth Petty with Connie as a passenger drove their road-worthy Fords the 123-mile trip. They did let the driving bunch share their air conditioning while we were stopped by the side of the road to fix Stan’s flat tire. Jack and Pat Bass whizzed past the stalled group and were waiting for us in Victoria along with Gary and Barbara. Bo and Susan joined the motor home village in the motel parking lot to make a total of 18 Central Texas Region members enjoying all the Tri-City activities. An ice cream social, tour of the B. J. Cornstuble home, and a demonstration of antique musical instruments by Dr. Dennis Riedesel filled Friday afternoon, followed by dinner of fajitas and all the trimmings with Mariachi musicians and dancers providing entertainment. Plenty of food and drink was available non-stop in the hospitality area so no one went hungry! After breakfast on Saturday, we drove to Cuero where we were shown the historic Grace Episcopal Church and the Reiffert Mugee House built in 1868. Ever wonder about the fine display tables and cabinets exclusive to brands such as Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Loren? They’re made in Cuero—at Lancaster Industries. The manager gave us a most interesting tour of the manufacturing facility and explained the operation from raw lumber to packing and shipping. A delicious barbecue lunch was provided at the VFW in Cuero and then we drove to see St John’s Lutheran Church in Meyersville. We made our way back to the Holiday Inn to freshen up, hit the hospitality room again, and enjoy the oompa music of the Rusty Steins band. More delicious food was served at the Saturday night banquet and the winners of the trivia contest (3-way tie, none from our group) and the results of the “Favorite Car” voting were announced. Jerry and Mary Ann Corona won that trophy with their Model T vegetable wagon. Well deserved! There were about 70 cars registered for the tour and the Golden Crescent Region club did an excellent job taking care of everyone. All in all it was a fun weekend and, if you missed it, plan to be a part of the next tour.
Victoria to Austin – 125 miles in seven hours flat. (submitted by our trustworthy field correspondent, honest Vic Donnell)
How do you stretch a two hour drive into an all day affair? Well, you have to work at it a little.
After the Tri-City Tour, there were four families in motor homes with trailers that decided to make the run back to Austin together. Well, I thought that was an okay idea. Of course, we were a rolling traffic jam everywhere we went. The participants were Bowen’s, Corona’s, Donnell’s, and Stanley’s. I asked if anyone in the group would write this report, but all declined. Therefore, I must tell the true story. Now, here’s the way it went down. This is the whole true story. Any version you hear from anyone else is probably a fabrication and should be ignored.
We agreed Saturday night that we would make the return trip a leisurely affair. No one would set an alarm and we’d leave when we were good and ready. Well, at 7 a.m. Sunday morning, while Jan was still sawing logs, I slipped outside to enjoy the morning air while drinking a really nice cup of hot coffee. Well, to my surprise, Dan is already tying his car down on the trailer, Kay is walking Sammy D, and Jerry is jump starting Stan’s motor home with a ’24 Model T Ford. No one took any pictures. Even Corky is already up and dressed. Well, so much for the "leisurely" rules.
While Dan and I were discussing the finer points of tying his car on a trailer by the Rube Goldberg method, we noticed that we were standing in an enormous pile of doggie do left by Sammy D. In the Army, we used to call those things "doggie land mines." While Dan and I were doing a Wild Indian Clod Hopper Doggie Do dance in the parking lot, Jan emerged to see what’s going on. Now that we were all together, Mary Ann suggested that we should go have breakfast. Not the free stuff the host chapter had laid out, but a no-kidding, real breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Okay, that got a vote of approval from everyone. But, wait a minute. Jerry says, "I’ve gotta shave first. Someone might see me and strike up a conversation about our ‘prize winning car’ and I must look proper while in public." Dan says, "I’m not going anywhere till I have a shower." Kay takes Sammy D back in the motor home. Stan goes to load his car. I didn’t see where Mary Ann and Corky went. Jan and I were standing all alone in the parking lot wondering where everyone went. One by one, they begin to drift back out; Jerry with a bloody face where he cut himself shaving. I thought he used an electric shaver. This went on for over an hour. No one took any pictures. Finally, we got everyone back together and we did go to the restaurant.
By 9:30, we were finished eating and got everyone together in the coaches. Now, this was a small parking lot for maneuvering one motor home at a time. Imagine all four. This looked like a shotgun start at the golf course. The motor homes were pointed in different directions and they all started moving at one time. No one took any pictures. Traffic slowed us down a little because we had to cross three lanes of traffic to get out of the parking lot. Stan says, "Let me go first. I’ve got to stop for gas." Arg…. Let the record show 9:30 a.m. as the official starting time, sort of. At that time, I didn’t know that the a.m. and p.m. could be an important detail to note.
Well, three blocks and fifty gallons of petrol later, Stan is ready to rejoin the pack and we’re off again. We played the traffic light roulette game through Victoria and then we really got rolling. The speedometer debate ensued again right where it left off from the trip down but this time we convinced our fearless leader Jerry that his was off by about five miles per hour. As we got him up to 60, I finally got into top gear in our motor home. We made it a whole 28 miles down the road to Cuero when Dan says, "Hey, we shopped in an antique store here yesterday, and you really need to see this stuff." So-o-o-o, instead of turning right onto 183 and heading to Austin, we turned left and tried three stores, all of which were closed at 10:30 a.m. on Sunday. Go figure. Here we are, four motor homes with trailers distributed over two city blocks at curb side parking, and pointed the wrong direction. Jerry and Dan turned down two different side streets to circle the block. Stan and I made a U turn in the middle of the block and double parked on the other side of the road while we tried to guess where the other two would turn up. We heard them talking on the CB as they passed one another on the back side of the block, each one asking where the hell Stan and Vic went. No one took any pictures.
We got things moving again, headed for Gonzales. By now it’s close to 11 o’clock. There’s not much along that 34 mile stretch of road but the two lane construction zone where Stan had his blowout on the way down to Victoria.
Just to review this incident, the trip down had been uneventful except for Stan’s exploding tire that let go in the middle of a two lane part of the road in a construction zone. On the trip back, Vic had just finished admonishing Stan to hold his breath when entering the same construction zone. The words were still ringing over the CB airways when the next tire exploded. It was one of Vic’s trailer tires. Life ain’t fair. By the time we got stopped, we were within 100 yards of where we had changed Stan’s tire on the way down.
On both occasions the group looked like a well trained pit crew. Dan Bowen spun the lug wrench both times. He’s good with that wrench. Blocks were required for jacking on both occasions. These came from Stan’s block collection. Sage advice was offered by Jerry. On the trip down, the women gathered in the air conditioned comfort of a motor home and talked about how great the men looked all sweated down. At least that’s what we thought they were talking about. There was lot’s of giggling. Now THAT’S why we convoy to a meet. There’s strength in numbers and all the tools needed for the job never seem to be in any one tool box.
On the trip back, by the time we got to a place big enough for four 60 foot long rigs to pull off the road, the remains of my trailer tire were pretty hot. There wasn’t much left but the collection of strings that used to be the radial cord. The women all stood in a great circle to watch the action this time. Now you already know that Dan took care of the lug nuts and Stan provided the wood blocks. I had a floor jack. That made the work a little easier. What you don’t know is that by the time you get that big Packard into my trailer, there isn’t much room to move around inside to get the jack out, and the spare tire, and the lug wrench, and me. Most of it just fell through the door when I got it close enough.
When we got the shredded tire off, Stan took charge of getting it into the trailer. Now this is a hot potato. The rubber had to be still well over a hundred degrees. He didn’t want to hold on to it for long at a time. Stan had a special technique of tossing it through the front trailer door. Remember this trailer is pretty full. The tire hits the car tie down strap which is stretched tight like a bow string and bounces right back out the door landing at Stan’s feet. Humph! He rests a few seconds, grabs it and shoves it through the door, this time with more conviction, hitting the Packard bumper. Some of the ripped up tire cord is now caught on the bumper and the tire is hanging at an angle across the door opening. "Stan," I say, "why don’t we just carry that tire through this really big back door and lay it on the floor under the back of the car." Okay. Now the tire is hung. When he finally gives up and steps back, the tire falls out of the trailer and hangs next on the door latch. We finally got all this under control and got on the road again around noon. No one took any pictures.
As we rolled past Gonzales on the by-pass, avoiding at least eight pretty nice antique shops in town, Jerry announces, “I think I’ll stop at the truck stop in Luling and fill up. I don’t like to take this thing home with the tank too low.” We’re still a good 60-70 miles from home. Guess they don’t sell diesel on the west side of Austin. So, we pulled in. Jerry took the car entrance, of course, and had to circle through the whole place to get where he belonged. Guess he was still showing his prize winning model T on the trailer. The rest of us parked in the truck area to wait. CB reception is pretty good from a range of ten feet or so. We sat there and looked at one another through the windshield and talked on the radio. Naturally, the talk turned to food. "Let’s stop some place and get a bite to eat." "Okay, what do you want?" "Anything but barbecue," says Dan. "I’m about barbecued out." Fifteen miles later, we stopped at Black’s Barbecue in Lockhart. We blocked most of the parking spaces on both sides of the street for two blocks. No one took a picture.
As we came out of the restaurant, Dan observed that an antique shop on his side of the street was open. It’s now after 1:30 and in we go like a wild stampede. We made every other store in town too. And I’ve got to go back next week to pick up some stuff. At one point, all eight of us were commuting between stores in one motor home. The shop proprietors wanted to see the cars. So, after shopping, we had to do a drive by with all the motor homes and trailers. No one took any pictures.
We continued to back track through Austin. One motor home at a time peeled off to go home. We bid farewell over the CB. I think Jan and I had more fun on this extended two hour, all day drive than we’ve had in a year of touring. We pulled into our driveway some time after 4:30 PM. And that’s how you make 125 miles in seven hours flat. Did you know that Mary Ann was carrying two cameras? And no one took any pictures.
This admittedly accurate report is the way it really went down. This is the true story. Any version you hear from Jerry or anyone else is probably a fabrication and should be ignored. Next time, they can write the trip report.