Hot Off The Press... 2008 Nationals

Under the Heading of, "Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water..." I submit this completely truthful and unbiased report of the 32nd Annual Running of the Bull, otherwise known as The Nationals.

For those not in attendance some of the references may need interpretation. Photos would be good, but it is harder to protect the guilty that way. Lisa Robertson has already published a couple of her shots, demonstrating the incendiary nature of mankind as well as a "line-up" photo of possible suspects.

The Nationals has been the evolutionary work product of Nord Embroden and friends for many years. My own participation, a mere half-dozen or so, has revealed a strongly family-oriented flight of fantasy aimed at having a good time while recovering from the day's racing activities with a BBQ, a "communal" tent environment, mystery, intrigue, valuable cash prizes, and freedom from international tax tariffs.

This year topped the mark. Although that seems impossible, given some of the past events. How could Nord create anything more surprising than the memorable Murder Mystery Theater, complete with a visit from the coroner? Or what about the "Night of the Coconuts" and the exotic dancing provided by your truly? Well, sometimes people are the most creative when left to themselves... which is exactly what happened.

In an outing straight out of Dante's Inferno, the Embroden family suffered wind, rain, hail, a visit from the Exxon Valdiz (right in their own driveway!), a flat tire, and a runaway cruise control that threatened to send the "new" motorhome into hyper-drive. The end result was that the band members showed up well before any sign of Nord and the Nordettes. Any mortal man would have called it quits and stayed home, but not the Nordster. Oh no, he LOVES punishment!!

Meanwhile, back at the lake... The wind was too light for much of a regatta. The Mantas running 17" aircraft tires at 120 psi did well, but those of us running stock boats were left behind.

In the absence of steady wind the intrepid landsailers were left to their own devices. Out came the alternative toys, you know, the RC stuff. First the aircraft made their debut. All went well until an in-flight catastrophic wing failure grounded (HARD) one plane. An unwitting control-selection doomed the second ship to craterville. Both were later offered up to the gods of wind and sun as token appeasement. I have seen incense burning before, but this was a new twist.

The RC cars were next. They were thought to be safe, since the don't usually leave the ground. Skilled driving was demonstrated by Bo and Bill. An unnamed novice also tried his hand, but seemed to have some 3-D issues. He kept running into the pylon cone.

Everyone else just sort of piddled along. At least until the band started arriving. With the band came enough wind to start giving them a demo of why it is that we come all the way out into the desert. ...to be far from medical aid, apparently. With the wind filling in at a good 15 to 20 mph the landyachts were busy zipping hither and yon. ...or maybe it was hither and "yawn", as in not paying enough attention to what your student pilot is doing.

Startled from my reverie by the fast approach of another boat, all I could manage was to cry out, "turn right. turn right!!!" It almost worked. Oh well, some of my ribs were almost healed from February's car crash. What's a few more ribs, anyway? Fortunately the injuries were limited, as was my breathing for a bit, but now everything is mending nicely.

Dorita showed up about that time (it is ALWAYS nice to have a Nurse around) and proclaimed my injuries as probably survivable. Then she set to work completing the BBQ banquet and waiting expectantly for her husband and children to arrive.

As the Sunday sun settled slowly into the western sky and the clock was just seconds from marking 8 PM (and nearly separating a bettor from his winnings) Nord stepped from his mobile domicile and the Nationals officially began. On Sunday???

Yes, it's true, this was the 1st annual Nord-less Nationals. Celebrated by me, Bandage-beak Bill Robertson, Limping Lisa Robertson, Bo, Mike, and others personally impacted by the weekend as the "Crashionals."

The celebration culminated in BBQ chicken, beef, baked potatoes, etc. all devoured just in time for the Educators to strike up the music and treat everyone to their 20th annual rendition of such hits as The Cat Came Back.

I would personally like to thank Nord and Dorita for the Herculean effort that they put out every year. This year was no different. Equipment failures aside, there was no less work to this event than for any in the past. Unfortunately their efforts were completely overshadowed by circumstance. Thanks, anyway!!! I would also like to thank all those who helped me re-wire my motorhome (twice!). Larry (and his father's advice) was absolutely essential to the repairs. The packing assistance the next morning is the only thing that stood between me and abandonment. Were it not for Harvey, Larry, Peter, Mike, Bo and the rest, Midnight would have been nothing but another aim-point for China Lake's Top Gun fighter-bombers on Tuesday morning.

Thanks for the many emails and phone calls checking on my welfare. It hurts a bit now and again, but not as much as it would if I didn't have all of you for friends.

Did anyone find the missing worm?

See you on the lakebed.

Michael
US 777