Lone Star 912
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Lone Star 912 |
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South Central Rendezvous 2004 The Lone Star 912 and the 912 Registry are proud to present the first annual South Central Rendezvous. The event was held in Davis, Oklahoma and drew folks from all over. The local paper in Davis ran three articles on the Rendezvous. I think this shows how much the town enjoyed having us. Cindy Larson got these copies sent to us and I have scanned them and placed them here for you to enjoy. The Davis News April 21st, 2004 The Davis News April 28th, 2004 A full report is available below, click below to see some of the pictures. I have a picture disk from Norv Parr that I hope to use to provide a more rounded overview. Stay tuned! Story by Morrie and Cindy Larson As exciting as these cars are, I always seem to start off reporting on the weather. It’s just that weather plays such a big role in the fun factor of an event; it is always at the front of my mind. Couple that with the fact that it is something that I have absolutely no control over, and it makes for one stressed type A personality Regional Coordinator, namely me. The weekend before the South Central Rendezvous, the weather in Davis was, well, crap. Because of this, I guess we can’t complain too much. Historically, we here in the Lone Star State have never had an event that was a total washout, but there is always a first. I know one of these times we may find ourselves swimming home. While the weather for the first weekend in May was far from excellent, it had its moments and gave us the breaks we needed to have an absolutely wonderful time at the first annual South Central Rendezvous. This event has been planned for some time. We cooked it up as a concept late in 2003. The idea was to get as many of the folks from the central states to get together in a common location before the heat of summer took the fun out of driving around in plastic seats with no A/C. Since then, I have spammed my way into many of your lives keeping you updated on who was going, what we’d be doing, and where we’d be. We kept roughly to a schedule of loosely organized events and as my friend Jack Griffin commented when I shrugged at his question of, “what’s next?” a loose schedule was to be a common theme of the weekend. Add in car troubles, ducking (pun) rain showers, and the fact that none, including myself, had ever been to Davis, and you have a recipe for some real impromptu activities. Kevin Weldon and I headed up to Davis a day earlier that the rest of the crew, arriving around 3:30pm on Thursday the 29th of April. When we arrived it was a beautiful sunny day. We cruised into town and our first greeting was from a school bus which had its stop arm abruptly extended in the face of Kevin’s oncoming 69 912. Kevin, being a law-abiding citizen, brought his car to a halt as abruptly as the stop arm appeared, leaving a small amount of his tread pattern behind him for posterity. Following Kevin’s lead with a bit less gusto, I stopped behind him and waited. The sight of two Porsche’s was about as much as the kids on the bus could handle as they shouted questions and complements at us while we waited for the bus to go on its way. Our first order of business was to meet up with Janet Mathis, the director of the Davis Chamber of Commerce. Janet has been very helpful with providing information to us and in arranging places for us to meet, hold events, and drives. Kevin and I piled into Janet’s car and she gave us a windshield tour of the town and surrounding area. We have never felt so welcomed and taken care of. The success of this event is in no small part due to Janet and her up front work to help us make it all happen. Davis is a town of about 2500 people. There are grocery stores, restaurants, gas stations, and auto parts stores. The one key ingredient that was missing in Davis, however, was a hotel and conference center. Because of this, we had our accommodation needs, well “accommodated”, in Davis’s sister city of Sulphur, seven miles away. We had the distinct pleasure of staying at the Chickasaw Lodge and conference center in Sulphur. This place had a charm all its own, to say the least. While the rooms were not extravagant, the prices were quite reasonable and I think everyone got on all right. Friday late morning the first crew arrived. From Austin came Cindy and Jeff Larson in Cindy’s 68. David Gilliland represented Heath, which is just east of Dallas, in his red 66 coupe. Brian Southwell from Houston came in his 76 “E” as the ‘68 was undergoing surgery to correct a leak. Jerry Stewart, also from the Houston area, was along in his sleek silver “E”. Norv and Diana Parr represented Dallas in Norv’s shiny red 76 “E”, along with Jack Griffin and Tricia McQuinn in his beautiful all original red 67 targa. While all these folks were waiting on me and Kevin, we were across town. My 67 had managed to foul out the #1 plug. I had corrected that problem and detected that #3 was also missing. As is the norm with me, I just couldn’t leave well enough alone and had to pull and clean the #3 plug too. Using unfamiliar tools under the pressures of time, I shouldn’t have messed with it. Instead I had removed it and was now having some difficulty in getting it re-installed. This waylaid us for about 30 minutes, making the folks back at the hotel wait and subsequently making for a lot of hungry folks looking for a meal. Anyhow, the plug went in and tightened down, we met up with the group and headed over to Davis for lunch. About half way through the seven-mile trip, my car spit out the #3 plug and began to make that familiar locomotive chugging sound. Examination upon arrival at the restaurant showed that in my haste I had cross-threaded #3. Due to this act of brilliance, I spent lunch pulling out the carburetor on the 3-4 bank so I could insure that I threaded the plug in straight, and ease my retrieval of the old plug, which I had managed to drop inside the engine tin. This story is a good lesson for why you don’t rush things of this nature. Taking your time up front will, in the long run, take less of it. I was just finishing the task of reinstalling the carb after successfully installing the plug when up pulled a late model Chevy Impala. The car was going too fast and was being driven erratically, the cause of which became apparent as the driver emerged and revealed himself to be none other than the infamous John Benton, much talked about doctor of old Porscheology and flattener of unsuspecting California squirrels. Standing in for the doctor as co-pilot and navigator was our fearless leader, Mr. Jeff Trask. This may on some level explain the forthcoming lack of vehicular responsibility the Impala experienced. Note to self: Never buy a used rental car. While I was finishing up with my spark plug fishing expedition behind the engine tin, Dick and Gail Jurkowski arrived in their ’76 “E” from Kilgore, Texas. Dicks black “E” is unmistakable with its tinted windows and whale tail out back. Randal Goodman and his wife Delpha had also connected with us at lunch. Randal is our newest friend and hails from Oklahoma City. Randal has a ’68 coupe that was given to him for his 16th birthday, more than 20 years ago. He and Delpha are great folks and a real asset to the group. Meeting new folks is one of the best things about these events. Getting back to my car. After some whining and complaining on my part that made me feel better but did nothing for the doctor, John had produced a Ziploc bag from his suitcase. The bag was filled with Solex Jets of various sizes. From another location in his suitcase, John produced a distributor, namely a RSR0012. It seems that John had barely missed out on an extended stay in the Airport due to the exact purpose of such a device, which apparently was a foreign object to the security screener. The little coiled wire leading to the condenser and the cap with 5 “barrels” took some partial disassembly and explaining on John’s part, but he was eventually allowed to pass. Now my car was ready to go with a lighter set of mains installed, a new disty, and a little timing tweak. We were on our way. By this time it was late afternoon and we were due at the grassy lot next to the local grocery store for an informal car show. At the car show, the weather drove (there I go again) Jack to go over to the cover of the Sonic Drive-In down the street and install the targa top on his 67 912. The soft window had never been deployed during the 15 or so odd years that Jack has owned the car; it’s a fair weather ride. Fortunately, it turned out that the soft window was in good condition and Jack was back in no time with a comparatively watertight ride. About this time, Troy Berreth from the Houston Area rolled in with his teal blue 68. Troy had some unexpected delays at work which kept him from leaving that Friday morning, but he had gotten out as soon as he could and had driven straight through from southern Texas to southern Oklahoma with nothing more than the required stops for fuel and the personal requirements of a man drinking sodas in a bouncy little car. It was good to see Troy and have his car join the line up. Pat Carmichael and his son Sean had driven up for the evening in their daily driver, as the 69 coupe just wasn’t ready. Next time Pat! Votes from members and visiting folks from the community were tabulated by Cindy and kept secret for the Saturday night banquet. At around 7pm that evening, we made our way to our dinner spot, a new restaurant called Dream Weaver. This place is a rustic family operated establishment with good food and a social atmosphere. I found myself drifting around looking at wild game mounts on the walls, a group of buffalo grazing outside the window, and visiting with the owner. Once everyone had gotten their fill, we packed up the caravan and drove through the misty rain back to the hotel for the evening. Informal social visiting moved from room to room. The company was good and the conversation light. We have a great group of folks out here. Saturday morning arrived and we were greeted by gloomy skies and cool weather barley into the 60s, which left most of us scrambling to find as many layers of shirts as we could find in our bags to keep out the chill. Dave and Charlene Davis had joined us by now with their white 67 coupe. We had a good breakfast as a group at the restaurant and headed out to Turner Falls, where there is a scenic overlook of a 70-foot waterfall. Along the way Michael Griffin and his girlfriend Courtney had joined us in Michael’s white 911 Targa. The turnout at the falls overlook allowed for some picture taking and an opportunity for Kevin to pick up a sweatshirt at the gift shop, which began the slow process of his skin tone changing back to pink from the lovely shade of blue he had become. From here we backtracked a bit to a route that the locals had recommended which led us to the town of Dougherty where we had lunch at “The Catfish Kitchen”. Before lunch, we walked around the small town and lined up our cars along Main Street, drawing a lot of attention from passers by. A second hand store yielded a 25-cent jacket for Mr. Benton, changing his color back from blue also. Things were improving all around. CD Shamburger and Debra Kennedy had joined us in Dougherty in CD’s 911, and Andrew and Steve Schwieger had come up in their daily driver as Andrew’s 68 is still going back together. Andrew is a lucky young man who when he turns 16 will have a tangerine 912 to drive. He owes a lot to his dad, Steve, for helping him in this endeavor. What a great father son project! From the Catfish Kitchen we continued our drive, which ended us back in Sulphur at our hotel. With an hour to kill between the drive and our events in the Davis city park, some rested and others went exploring. We regrouped a bit later and the caravan again headed out for Davis. Next year, should we choose to return to the area, Davis will have a new hotel open which is attached to the casino. This would make things a lot more convenient. We rolled into the Davis city park and began to set up for the soapbox derby. The planning and execution of all the events in the park is due to the efforts of one Dave Davis. He had everything planned; score sheets made out, and ran the whole operation. A big thank you goes out to Dave for all his efforts. The soapbox derby was run in time trial format, best time wins. The cars were lined up at the top of a shallow incline. Participants were allowed to use all the features of their cars except the engine. Best coaster wins. This made for some humorous comments and spirited discussions about whether having the clutch pressed in really helped and what the best route for the shortest time would actually be. I personally am surprised that my car did not make first place. My 15 year old son Jeff was behind the wheel, and Jeff Trask had insured that the aerodynamics of the RS front spoiler were complemented by a surgical application of duct tape over my horn grills and a streamlining of my side mirror. For safety, he X’ed my headlights in duct tape too. We sent Jeff down the hill with his safety belt on, radar detector on, and ZZ Top blasting on the stereo. The thing should have practically flown. Oh well, maybe next year. Once all the cars had made their way down the hill, it was time for the blind rodeo. In this event, the driver was required to maneuver his way through a series of gates that were represented by yellow plastic cups. The course was tight and designed for snail-paced precision. Oh yes, did I mention the driver is blindfolded? Yes, you heard right. The “sighted” navigator in the passenger’s seat guided the driver. Amazingly enough, save for a few cups, most navigated the course successfully. The course was laid out on the grass of the city park and I am pleased to report that no paint was swapped with trees or shelters. The local newspaper showed up for the events in the park and promised copies of the article and the two previous ones would be sent to me for our records. Great folks all around. I think we even had the local police officer half convinced to drive the course in his cruiser, but I guess he decided that it might not be such a good idea after all. He did try on the goggles though and vouched for the fact that there was no way that anyone would be able to see with those on. Personally, I think he was just glad we were off the streets. We only just finished this event and had to head back to the hotel for the banquet. We took time to freshen up and gather our things, and then headed to the banquet hall for dinner. The food was good again, and many commented that if nothing else, we fed them well. After dinner we held drawings for many prizes donated by Will at CSP. We are certainly in his debt for the generous supply of this-and-that parts for our cars. There were awards for everyone, if you were not going to benefit from a part; a Registry shirt or cap was there for you. Nobody walked away empty handed. Complementary issues of the Registry newsletter were handed out to everyone also, and non-members were encouraged gently to support us and sign up. This event is the first physical evidence of the Registry as a national organization that we in the central states have seen, and I know that it will not be the last. The organization is growing, and good things are just bound to happen! Awards were presented as follows: Jack Griffin took first place in the soapbox derby. He is very proud and quick to point out that this is the first racing award he has ever won, despite racing professionally for sometime. Congratulations Jack! Troy won the blind rodeo, although I think that his navigator, John Benton, is probably the one who should get the credit. John received his own award for hitting more obstacles than anybody else when he ran the course in Randal’s ’68 coupe. In John’s defense, I should mention that the gates were moved closer together just for John and without his knowledge. Even with the added disadvantage, he still made it through a couple of the gates without hitting a cup. In closing, I will just share with you the summary my wife, Cindy, posted on the BBS. We will be back next year, so if you missed it, plan ahead for May 2005 and the Second Annual South Central Rendezvous. “Many thanks to all for making this past weekend a success. It is always fun to get together with old friends and new. |
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