Date: Fri, 18 Jul 1997 03:34:34 -0600 From: Charlie Ford Subject: The MOFOCO VW Meet, and Mesquito Massacre Last week after I arrived in Chicago, Dan Soiney sent me an E mail message and invited me to attend the MOFOCO VW Swap Meet close to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for the weekend. Because my money has depleted to almost nothing, and jobs to make any more just keep falling through. I had some real questions as to whether I really needed to attend or not. After some serious soul searching and looking even more seriously for work, which I finally found, I decided that I would give myself $40.00 of my $140.00, and drive to Wisconsin to enjoy the event and some Volksfolks. This would be the only official VW show I have been able to attend since leaving Georgia, and I really wanted to go. My work would begin on Monday, and as long as I stayed in line with spending, I should be able to make it just fine. On Saturday I woke up about 8:00 AM, and after helping Dan, the Carpet Man do some delivering of some rug to various jobs around the area, I headed out for Wisconsin. I am staying on the south side of Chicago in a small city called Elwood, which is right next to Joiliet. Yep you got it right, Joliet Jake and Elwood, The Blues Brothers, lived here when they were children. : ) Actually the names of the characters were drawn from these two cities, at least that is what I was told by Dan The Carpet Man. Anyway, I left about 11:00 AM and headed north on Interstate 294, which eventually became 94, which eventually became known to me as the "Tollbooth slugslab". I gave it this name because approximately every 250 feet (a slight exaggeration) you have to stop and put .40 cent in a big plastic hoop. I was sitting in a traffic jam at one of the many toll booths, and struck up a conversation with the people sitting in the car next to me. I said to the guy on the passenger side "geez, I knew Chicago was an attraction, but I didn't know you had to finance your life away to drive through it". The guy laughed and he says, "yeah, these f**kin highways shoulda been paid for years ago, I think Daly's pocketing some of dis change". I think he is probably right, the roads are not even that good, or that well maintained. I eased on along and eventually came to the long free section of highway. It was funny but the last toll you pay is when you enter into Wisconsin, and that is where the road gets smoother. Does this mean that Illinois is charging for admittance to Wisconsin? Isn't this illegal? If it ain't there damn sure oughta be a law! Wisconsin is missing out on their take! I drove passed the stateline and followed the directions that Dan had given me. The day had become hot and somewhat stuffy. The air that was flowing through the flow through vents on the Mothership were not really helping at all. In fact I think the dashboard was hotter than my engine. But on I drove, thinking seriously about how to invent an "easy on the motor" air conditioner for the bus. Hmmm.........would a swamp cooler work in this climate? Finally I reached my turn off. Exit County Road KR, the path to the drag strip where the show was to be happening. I drove about 6 miles west of the Interstate and sure enough there it was. I wheeled the Mothership onto the entrance road and pulled up to the gate. The lady at the window told me $12.00, I gave her my last $20.00. She took it, ripped it apart and gave me back just a fraction of it. She actually had the unmitigated gall to charge me tax, hell I thought the price was $12.00, not $12.66. I guess they do it in the name of Uncle Sam, but I think the owners want to ensure their high profit margin. That would make it in the name of greed. That is mostly what business bases it's prices on. I drove on in and as a consolation she was sure to tell me that I could park in the pit area, since I was driving a VW. I felt so honored. I drove in and found me a parking spot. I think I may have missed the pit area by a mile or so. I parked in the field where the Late Model Showbusses were parked and opened up for display. I pulled in behind a really nice 78 bus with a Westy tent attached to the side. I parked the Mothership, stepped out and opened up my doors. Just like anyone else that is proud of their bus would do. I figured the worst they could do was tell me to move. You know I actually felt a little vain opening The Mothership up for the world to see. The other busses might look better cosmetically, but they have nothing on her in running ability. Two "round the country" trips in the past five years, and the latest feat of turning over 12,000 miles on this journey alone. What a good bus! except for the starter, I would say "perfect bus". A couple folks stepped over and said, "man, great setup" commenting on my homemade camper interior. I blushed as they poured compliments on The Mothership. It was a proud moment for the both she and I, and I had to acknowledge, she did look good! I thought I saw a tear roll down her front from just beneath her headlamp. Maybe my imagination. The rust that dots her in a few places, age spots as she and I prefer to call them, receded for just a few minutes and made her skin look whole again. The other busses were pretty, and set up nice, but the Mothership is mine, and in my minds eye, the most beautiful dang bus on the lot! I went off for a walk because in the distance I heard the bug races going on. I walked closer to the track and all I could hear was the buzz of little bitty rail dragsters sporting VW engines. They whirred, whined, and whizzed around like little bees. They were so shrill that the sound filled your entire body, head first. then left your toes buzzing in the same key that they were. I stood and watched for a few minutes and headed back to find Dan Soiney. He had told me that he was going to be one of the judges, and to look him up when I got there. I was following instructions. I walked up to a couple judges and asked if they knew him, none of the did, so I eased back to the Mothership to re-group. As I walked along I noticed a guy sitting beside the Westy with the tent on it. I stepped up and as I did caught a glimpse of his shirt. I saw that it looked like a list shirt but I couldn't read it completely. I asked him, "you on the type2 list?" He stood and pulled his shirt tight so I could see it. I said "my name is Charlie Ford". He said "hey man, my name is Andy McKinley." He asked me to sit down and I realized right off that this was a good guy. I had found a friend, in fact the Mothership and I had parked right behind him. Good life bein on this list ain't it? We sat and talked for a while. That is we talked in between all the people coming up to ask about Andy's attached tent. He explained to many of them that it was original equipment, and he had bought it a few years ago from a guy for $300.00. Man what a find, the tent looked to be brand new, mainly because for all intensive purposes it was. The gentleman Andy had bought it from had never used it. But then Andy takes good care of his equipment as well. We sat there and shot the breeze while enjoying the breeze, at least a small one coming from the west. I looked over to a crew cab truck sitting about 50 yards. away and there sat a skinny guy with long hair. If my memory served me right, which it did, that was Dan Soiney's description of himself. I asked Andy if that was him, and after taking a good look he said "yes, it is". I stepped over and introduced myself. Dan and I had a few minutes conversation and he had to go back to work being a judge. He asked me if I was going to camp out with all of them tonight. I told him I thought I probably would. He seemed like a good guy , and I knew that between he and Andy I would find some common ground on which to converse about. Little did I know I would appreciate them both as being great folks too know. Haven't met a bad listy yet. I went back to Andy's bus, and then decided to go to the swapmeet area. I eased on over to the mobile junkyard. It was my first experience at such an event so I went browsing. Most of the folks were the wheeler dealer types. You know the kind that drive Chevy's, and try to make everything VW they sell seem like a rarity. Then there are the ones that drive busses, they were OK, but I didn't feel very much confidence in a couple of them either. I didn't buy anything at all, but then my lack of money wouldn't allow me too. It was nice to just walk and look and listen. the sounds of people making deals and haggling is always pretty exciting as far as I am concerned. All of a sudden in the not to far distance, there came a rumble. A deep ominous rumble of a monstrous nature. Every head in the swapmeet crowd turned and focused all their attention toward the drag track. Folks driving by on the interstate 6 miles away pulled there cars off to the side, dogs quieted down in horror in the neighboring states, kids and babies huddled closer to their mothers. What was it? Where did it come from? Will it ever leave? Yep ladies and gentlemen, the rocket car had arrived. The premiere money drawer of the day, at least for the small children. The power mongrel, the fuel burning, noise making, fire breathing, fire blowing, monster of a car had pulled itself on to the track and was racing it's engines so that all on the fairgrounds, and the folks in three surrounding counties, could hear and behold it's awesome turbine power. It breathed in deeply, and when it exhaled, it blew debris all around. The exhaust belched out black soot and high heat, the flames shot into the air. Folks standing sort of behind this monster were covered with black soot top to bottom. The driver, sporting his flame proof suit, just like the ones on TV, had a pucker factor of 10. Yes, he pinched the seat below him with his ass in extreme anticipation of take-off. Then the anticipated moment came. Off he thrust, leaving the crowd sitting still, in a second it was over, the crowd gave a rousing reaction to the sounds and the sight they had just beheld. I shifted my attention back to my browsing, I was damn glad the thing had shut the hell up! Too much noise for the kid. I ran into Andy at the swapmeet and together we fumbled around through the junk a bit. I was looking for a starter that I might trade for the automatic starter I had gotten in Nebraska. After doing some further checking, I have found that it will not work because of the shaft length. I also have decided that instead of going out and buying another one I will try and clean all the post connections on my present starter and see what good that does. Andy found some windows for his bus, and even found a couple sliders from a 79 that he said he might give a try. He made a hell of a deal. I personally love my sliding windows, except for the fact that I have never seen a set of screens for them. Andy gave me a couple of screens for louvered windows he picked up as part of the deal with the windows, and I am going to try and custom fit them to The Mothership. Eventually we eased back over to where our busses were. Dan came up and told us that the caravan to the campground was lining up on the entrance apron and we would be leaving in a little while. When Andy and I did line up there were 14 busses in the caravan. It looked like a wagon train heading west into the sunset. It is said that there is power in numbers, and today in Southern Wisconsin, VW Busses had the power. We all caravan about 10 miles to a roadside bar where we all had drinks and beer and really happy conversation. Again we continued in the convoy. We passed through a small town waving at everyone who was smiling, which was everyone. We stopped at a local grocery store to stock food and beverage for the evening. It was great too see 14 busses all lined up in display in the front of the parking lot. The condition varied between the busses, some looked as good as new, and some as rotten as the most rotten, but they all ran like champs and each owner was just proud to be there. A good time was being had by all. We had the local law enforcement officer drop by and remind us that we needed to individually stop at each and every stop sign. He explained to us that he thought it was a Dead Head convention that had come to town. He smiled and waved us good-bye, and headed off to once again proceed to stop crime. "Good luck officer, and be careful out there", we all said as he left the parking lot. We drove toward the city limits of town and eventually into the ruralness of Wisconsin. A beautiful land it is with fields that are full of green and homes that are as picturesque as any anywhere. I was in a convoy of VW busses and riding through prime farmland. This is the way life should be. We arrived at the campground. Earl is the farmer that owns the land where we would be camping. Earl is 73 years of age, and each year he invites all the bussers to come out and enjoy the farm. Earl is a gentleman beyond compare. he appreciates the energy of the younger folks, yet demands a certain amount of respect just in his being. Through the years, he has come to deserve this respect. Everyone in attendance were very gracious to Earl, I was impressed. As the evening grew darker the mosquito's came out of the woods. Prior to their attack they must have lurked in the edges of the forest and planned their strategy. It seemed as if all of a sudden at the buzz of their fearless leader, they swooped down on us and caught us all off guard. People started running for cover. Men, women, and children covered and swatted their heads as the angry blood suckers descended upon us with a fitful vengeance for invading their woods. I think the biggest portion of them were glad we had come, and had brought our blood for them to suck. The first wave entered and left, and the second wave instituted their attack. Around the camp of VW 14 busses, a Ford van, and a Chevy van, citronella candles started glowing. The glow was a very comforting site for all of us that were swinging our arms around our heads trying to fight off the minuet insectual beast. But all in all the fumes of the citronella were useless in fending off the attack of yet a third wave of mosquitoes so big and fierce that they landed at the local airport. They seemed to breath in the fumes and get high on it's toxins. We pulled out the heavy guns, spray bottles full of OFF, Fantastic, and REPEL insect repellent. These commercial products designed to fight away the hordes of bugs one finds in the forest setting. For the next little while all you could here was swat...........ssssssssss.........swat ssssssss. The sound of folks fighting and spraying the repellent of their choice. The only one I had was REPEL, and after I finally found it in the Mothership I sprayed my body down with a heavy coating. It worked so I offered it to others that were living in agony like I had been a few minutes before. I will buy this product again. The party held that night was great. I met Dave, Earls son, listened to the drums of the bohemian young folks, and had some really good conversation with Dan and Andy. We almost had a fight happen when the one and only asshole in attendance decided that what some guy said in jest was to serious for him to let slip by. You always have to have one, but I would have loved to kick his ass myself. Some folks don't need to drink anything but water. And do that with care. I finally retired about three AM, and woke the next morning feeling pretty good. I hadn't drank that much and had chugged down a large glass of water prior to going to sleep in the rack. That always seems to help in evading the dreaded hangover. The next morning we all emerged from our individual busses and tents and prepared ourselves for breakfast at the farm next door. The place is a real "working farm" with a tourist business to boot. I think the name was Hoppe Farm. I ate a big breakfast and after saying thanks, and my good-byes to Dan and Andy and of course Earl, I hit the road back toward Chicago, where once again I was confronted with the Tollway slugslab. I dropped in my ton of change to have the privilege of driving close to Chicago,and arrived back to Dan the Carpet Man's house around 3:00 PM. I crawled in back and went right back to sleep, needing a nap because of the heat, and the prior night's events. All in all the event was more than I ever expected. A great time was had by all. Dan and Andy were a pleasure to meet and I hope one day I see them again. Damn, I may have to build a vacation home in Wisconsin when I finally strike it rich. But I am going to make sure I get a weekly supply of REPEL. At least in the summer anyway. I will also save all my change just in case I have to go to Chicago. I will also buy a guitar, drums only go so far, when one is not bohemian. Thanks for tolerating my rambling's. Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". http://www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"