[DeTomaso] Chris Kimball 2013 POCA Fun Rally Journal--day one

Mon Apr 22 09:14:27 EDT 2013

I enjoyed reading your diary last year. So keep those posts coming.
Cheers Bjoern

On Mon, Apr 22, 2013 at 8:35 AM, Christopher Kimball
<chrisvkimball at msn.com>wrote:

> The 2013 POCA Fun Rally; Chandler,
> Arizona
>
>
> Sunday,
> April 21, 2013
>
>
> Last year as
> I made my way to Chandler Arizona for the 2012 Fun Rally, I kept a daily
> journal describing my various exploits.
> This year I have decided to do the same, thanks to a myriad of
> requests.  OK, not really a myriad.  More like a gaggle.  Or a couple.
> At any rate, I don’t want to disappoint even one person, so here goes!
>
>
> This year started
> out quite differently than last, principally because for 2013 I am
> traveling
> with another person who is also crazy enough to think he can drive a
> 40-year-old car 1500 miles without getting stranded.  Actually, Brian
> DeVine isn’t quite as crazy
> as I am—his Pantera is only 38 years old.
> Clarke and Wilma Hamm are also again traveling to the rally in their
> 5th-wheel,
> trailering their Pantera, but I haven’t seen them yet.  I think they went
> to a car show today and began
> their journey several hours later than did Brian and I.
>
>
> Brian showed
> up at my house at about 12:30 for a delicious lunch prepared by my wife,
> Vicki.  I was looking forward to
> providing one of my gourmet milkshakes to compliment lunch, but was
> chagrined
> to discover Brian has an allergy to dairy products.  He can’t drink
> milkshakes?  I was overcome with grief and sympathy for
> Brian, who, apparently, must roam the earth in his own private hell due to
> this
> malady.  Brian’s misfortune, however, did
> mean I could make my milkshake that much larger (it was a mandarin orange,
> creamcicle shake, by the way—one of my specialties) so I guess the old
> adage
> about clouds and silver linings is true.
>
>
>
> Speaking of
> clouds, the weather during this first leg of the trip, terminating in
> Hermiston, Oregon, was absolutely terrible.
> It was beyond terrible.  It’s
> difficult to find words to describe how awful it was, especially because I
> try
> very hard not to use profanity.  In fact,
> everyone in our family is very good at avoiding offensive language, so
> I’ll use
> the non-offensive terminology my 18-year-old son, Donald, would use.  “The
> weather was actually fecal material.”  Who says you need obscenities to
> paint an
> effective word-picture?
>
>
> To begin
> with, the road surfaces were rough.  The
> tire wear on the asphalt was groovier than the ‘70s, and once the deluge of
> rain began, I felt as if I was skiing; hoping not to face the same fate as
> that
> guy on Wide World of Sports.  I was just
> about to call Vicki and tell her to start searching for ark blueprints
> when the
> rain stopped.  Before I could begin
> looking for a rainbow, however, we found ourselves in a dust storm.  That
> would have been annoying enough, but on
> top of that I had the misfortune of experiencing something completely new
> to me—tumbleweeds.  That’s right—actual, big balls of dead shrubbery
> being blown across the highway.  These
> things were as big as Fiat 500s!  Well,
> maybe I’m exaggerating a bit.  They weren’t
> as big as the new Fiat 500s, but definitely as big as the ones from the
> ‘60s.
>
>
> Before I
> even knew what was happening I hit one of these devilish dust balls.  It
> appeared out of nowhere and rolled right
> in front of me.  It connected with the
> left front corner of my car, and I wasn’t sure what kind of damage it might
> have done to the 10-hour buff-and-wax job I had completed on Saturday (as
> it
> turned out, most of the tumbleweed ended up lodged in my front grill and I
> was
> able to remove it with what appears to be no damage to Pandora).
>
>
> >From then on
> it was as if I was in some sort of life-sized video game.  If you’re old
> enough, you may remember Galaxian.  It was just like that.  I was swerving
> and braking and dodging trying
> to avoid connecting with the dozens of tumbleweeds making their way
> southward.  At one point, a truck just ahead of me in the
> lane to my left struck a particularly large tumbleweed—it was about the
> size of
> a full-grown azalea bush—and the entire tumbleweed exploded into a flurry
> of
> dead twigs.  I was exceedingly glad it
> was the truck that disintegrated the dead bush, and not Pandora!
>
>
> While trying
> to keep myself alive by avoiding tumbleweed carnage, I occasionally took
> the
> time to glance into the rear-view mirror to be sure Brian hadn’t met an
> unfortunate, tumbleweed-related demise.
> Fortunately, his reflexes are still good—I don’t think he hit a single
> one.
>
>
> I should
> take a moment to tell you that since I knew we would be traveling south, I
> shut
> off Pandora’s heater valves.  I figured
> south = hot weather so I wouldn’t need the heater.  For those of you who
> aren’t familiar with the
> way Italians design things (I believe “masochist” is the correct
> translation
> for “Italian design”), let me explain why one would even want to
> disconnect the
> heater in a Pantera.  In a stock Pantera,
> when moving the dash-mounted heater controls from “hot” to “cold,” what
> one is
> actually accomplishing is changing the heat in the cabin from “unbearably
> hot”
> to “not-quite as unbearably hot.”
>
>
> In a
> fabulous example of technological brilliance, the designers of the Pantera
> created a system in which the fluid which is cooling the engine
> efficiently transfers
> the entire engine’s heat away from the sensitive inner-workings of the
> engine,
> and places it directly in the cabin.  When
> employing the air conditioning system without somehow disconnecting the
> hot-water hoses which run directly through the console and up into the
> dash,
> rather than getting a blast of cool air from the vents, you instead hear
> little
> voices arguing.   They’re the voices of
> the heating system and the air conditioning system fighting about which one
> will win.  Neither ever does.  Therefore, savvy Pantera owners insert
> shut-off valves in the engine compartment so that the hot fluid stays out
> of
> the cabin.  This is great during summer
> months when it is important for the air conditioning system to work.  It
> does, however, render the heater useless
> until the valves are again opened.
>
>
> During the
> rainstorms the cab remained comfortable, but as we drove over the pass I
> began
> to get a bit chilly.  I glanced out the
> window and realized why—on the side of the road was a white, crystalline
> substance with which those of you who live in Phoenix may not be familiar
> (I
> just read an email from someone already in Chandler who gleefully reported
> that
> at the hotel it is 91 degrees in the shade).
> Fortunately, the road remained free of snow, and we soon were back to
> the comforting sound of another monsoon.
>
>
> During these
> frustrating times, it was nice to have Brian along for the trip.  After
> all, misery loves company!  Vicki was quite relieved when she learned
> Brian would be accompanying me to the rally this year.  She went as far as
> calling him “responsible.”  Ha!  I
> personally think it’s a stretch to call anyone who owns a Pantera
> “responsible,”
> let alone someone who has two—one for Brian and one for his
> wife (and Brian’s has a huge, delta-wing mounted on the trunk, to boot!
>  Get it?—boot?)  Nevertheless, I am finding it is taking a lot
> longer to go from point A to point B this year.
> It has something to do with obeying speed limits.
>
>
> The
> advantage of driving so slowly—I mean, responsibly—is that I have the
> chance to
> observe the reactions of the drivers in the cars that pass us.  At one
> point, a diminutive, white econobox
> containing two young, attractive, blonde women passed by on my left.  The
> passenger was holding a paper napkin up
> to the car’s passenger window on which she had written something.  For
> some reason, I didn't see what was on the
> napkin, but Brian later told me it read, “Nice Car.”  Based on the age of
> the young ladies, I think
> Brian may have misread the napkin.  The
> actual inscription was probably more akin to, “Hi, Gramps!”
>
>
> Brian and I
> arrived at the hotel in Hermiston, Oregon, at 7:30 PM and immediately began
> cleaning the grime off our cars.  Just as
> we were finishing, it began to rain.
> Again.  We decided what was needed
> was a stout dose of health food, so we walked across the hotel parking lot
> to
> the only game in town; A&W Rootbeer.
> Brian had some sort of hamburger, and I enjoyed one of the best examples
> of balanced nutrition ever conceived; an order of chicken strips with
> fries.  To obtain my minimum daily
> requirement of fruit, I also enjoyed an Orange Freeze.  I’m sure it was
> packed with vitamin C.  In case you’re worried this trip might throw
> off my nutritional balance, you can relax.
> During the drive from University Place to Hermiston I rounded out my
> food groups with Corn Nuts and a vanilla Frappuccino.
>
>
> Even though
> I’m getting to be an old guy, having a Pantera still scores some points
> with the chicks.  The woman at the check-in desk at the Comfort
> Inn asked Brain and me if “those cool cars out there” were ours.  We told
> her they were, and she immediately
> upgraded our room to a family suite.
> The
> good news is, thanks to the upgrade, I’ll be in an entirely separate room.
>  This means for tonight at
> least, Brian won’t hear me imitating a 408 at 6000 rpms.  I occasionally
> snore, I’m told.
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