THE WANDERERS #19
TOURISTS OR RACERS?
By Rick Sieman
When we last left Carl and Emma, Carl was talking with the SCORE/Baja 1000
race promoters about entering the Baja Safari, a non-racing rally event
that runs on the same course as the Baja 500. Emma, quite naturally, was
horrified.
She insisted that Carl think about it for a few hours before committing to
such a foolish endeavor with their beloved Suburban; so Carl agreed to do
a few hours of shopping in beautiful downtown Ensenada with her. We join
them now as they wander (what else?) through the streets.
Emma dragged Carl into a small shop. "This looks like a nice place, dear.
I want to get a new purse; my sister told me you can get some great deals
here if you know how to haggle with the shop owners.
Carl snorted. "Hah! Woman, you're liable to walk out of here with a bunch
of junk if you ain't careful. Most of this stuff is aimed at tourists."
Twenty minutes later, they left the shop with a new leather purse slung
over Emma's shoulder; Carl carried a huge black velvet painting of Elvis
fighting a bull, with a burning ship sinking in the background. Carl
beamed. "Lookit this, Emma! This painting has got it all! There's Elvis,
and he's got those big eyes like a wounded harp seal. Then you got some
action with the bullfight, and in the background you got a sinking ship.
There must be two or three dozen pictures of different kinds of cactus in
the left-hand corner. This here's a masterpiece! And the best part is the
sparkly stuff they glued on the guitar. When you move the painting, it
catches the light like sun on a dead catfish."
Emma looked at the painting as if a sea gull just pooped on her shoe.
"Well, it's a bit big for the Suburban, but it certainly is … ahhh …
different."
"Yup. And I got a real deal on it. The guy wanted a hundred bucks, and I
haggled him down to $98.50. I saw tears in his eyes, but hey, business is
business."
As they walked down the street, however, Emma saw about 150 other
identical paintings, most of them selling in the $20 range, frame included.
Tactfully, she did not point this out to Carl.
After accumulating a huge sombrero, a model ship made of string and wood,
a pair of sandals made out of tire tread, a Rolex watch for $18, a plastic
saint for the dashboard, a chess set with carved pieces that look like
melted candy bars, a wooden pelican, a clay flower pot, a serape with owls
circling around a dead rabbit on it, a belt four inches wide with a
two-pound buckle, and a hand-woven basket to hold their laundry.
All this shopping made them hungry, so Carl and Emma stopped in one of the
many small restaurants for a bite to eat. Carl grabbed the menu and
studied it. "You gotta be careful, Emma. Drink one glass of water, and
chances are you'll keel over like a snake just bit ya. Drink all the beer
you want, but make sure you eat a ton of hot sauce with it or it'll make
your blood circulate backwards. That's what my buddy, Howie, told me.
A smiling waiter walked up. "Buenas dias, friends. What can I get you?"
Emma pointed at the menu. "I'll have a number 26, please."
"Good selection, senora. That will give you a sampling of many different
dishes. And for the senor?"
"I'll have this here Jalapeno Special, and put some serious hot sauce on
it. None of that wimpy stuff. And bring me a couple of cold suds, too."
"Cerveza?"
"No. Beer. Cold ones."
***
"Will he be okay, doctor?"
"Oh, Si, senora. He only has a small cut on his lip, and his stomach will
be just fine in a few hours. The cut ?"
"Oh, that? That's when he stuffed his face in that bucket of mop water on
the restaurant floor. He must have banged it on the edge, or maybe the mop
handle. You see, that special was soooo hot."
"Yes, I know. My people tend to like their food on the spicy side, but
even the bravest of them normally do not add hot sauce to a platter of
fried jalapenos and chili peppers. Make sure that he takes some of this
medicine each hour for the rest of the day."
Later that day, a recovered Carl and a happy Emma walked in to one last
shop. Emma bought a sweatshirt that showed Spuds McKensie getting run over
by a Corona truck on the front, and Carl put on the Baja 500 T-shirt he
had just purchased.
The saleslady handed them their change and asked: "Is the senor here for
the big race.
Carl perked up. "Yup. And I think I just might sign up now that I'm
feeling better."
The smile disappeared from Emma's face and she let out a moan.
The saleslady asked: "Is the senora sick?"
"Naw. Just musta been something she ate."
The next day, Carl stood in line with numerous other drivers signing up
for the Baja 500 Safari Rally. It is, indeed, an interesting concept. The
drivers get to drive their rigs on most of the same course that the racers
do, but with a few important differences: They start after the racers, and
they run on timed rally rules, rather than flat-out racing.
A great deal, of course, depends on the co-pilot, who has to act as the
navigator and feed the driver information.
"Sign here, sir. Now, who will be your co-driver?"
Carl smiled broadly. "Why, my wife, Emma, naturally. Hellfire! She gets me
all over this here country without getting lost, so I figure this should
be no sweat. Emma? Emma? Now where did that woman get off to?"
***
Whoa, folks! It looks like Carl up and did it. But where's Emma? And will
they actually compete? I don't know about you, but, quite frankly, I'm
getting worried. Next month should be interesting.
THE WANDERERS #19
TOURISTS OR RACERS?
By Rick Sieman
When we last left Carl and Emma, Carl was talking with the SCORE/Baja 1000
race promoters about entering the Baja Safari, a non-racing rally event
that runs on the same course as the Baja 500. Emma, quite naturally, was
horrified.
She insisted that Carl think about it for a few hours before committing to
such a foolish endeavor with their beloved Suburban; so Carl agreed to do
a few hours of shopping in beautiful downtown Ensenada with her. We join
them now as they wander (what else?) through the streets.
Emma dragged Carl into a small shop. "This looks like a nice place, dear.
I want to get a new purse; my sister told me you can get some great deals
here if you know how to haggle with the shop owners.
Carl snorted. "Hah! Woman, you're liable to walk out of here with a bunch
of junk if you ain't careful. Most of this stuff is aimed at tourists."
Twenty minutes later, they left the shop with a new leather purse slung
over Emma's shoulder; Carl carried a huge black velvet painting of Elvis
fighting a bull, with a burning ship sinking in the background. Carl
beamed. "Lookit this, Emma! This painting has got it all! There's Elvis,
and he's got those big eyes like a wounded harp seal. Then you got some
action with the bullfight, and in the background you got a sinking ship.
There must be two or three dozen pictures of different kinds of cactus in
the left-hand corner. This here's a masterpiece! And the best part is the
sparkly stuff they glued on the guitar. When you move the painting, it
catches the light like sun on a dead catfish."
Emma looked at the painting as if a sea gull just pooped on her shoe.
"Well, it's a bit big for the Suburban, but it certainly is … ahhh …
different."
"Yup. And I got a real deal on it. The guy wanted a hundred bucks, and I
haggled him down to $98.50. I saw tears in his eyes, but hey, business is
business."
As they walked down the street, however, Emma saw about 150 other
identical paintings, most of them selling in the $20 range, frame included.
Tactfully, she did not point this out to Carl.
After accumulating a huge sombrero, a model ship made of string and wood,
a pair of sandals made out of tire tread, a Rolex watch for $18, a plastic
saint for the dashboard, a chess set with carved pieces that look like
melted candy bars, a wooden pelican, a clay flower pot, a serape with owls
circling around a dead rabbit on it, a belt four inches wide with a
two-pound buckle, and a hand-woven basket to hold their laundry.
All this shopping made them hungry, so Carl and Emma stopped in one of the
many small restaurants for a bite to eat. Carl grabbed the menu and
studied it. "You gotta be careful, Emma. Drink one glass of water, and
chances are you'll keel over like a snake just bit ya. Drink all the beer
you want, but make sure you eat a ton of hot sauce with it or it'll make
your blood circulate backwards. That's what my buddy, Howie, told me.
A smiling waiter walked up. "Buenas dias, friends. What can I get you?"
Emma pointed at the menu. "I'll have a number 26, please."
"Good selection, senora. That will give you a sampling of many different
dishes. And for the senor?"
"I'll have this here Jalapeno Special, and put some serious hot sauce on
it. None of that wimpy stuff. And bring me a couple of cold suds, too."
"Cerveza?"
"No. Beer. Cold ones."
***
"Will he be okay, doctor?"
"Oh, Si, senora. He only has a small cut on his lip, and his stomach will
be just fine in a few hours. The cut ?"
"Oh, that? That's when he stuffed his face in that bucket of mop water on
the restaurant floor. He must have banged it on the edge, or maybe the mop
handle. You see, that special was soooo hot."
"Yes, I know. My people tend to like their food on the spicy side, but
even the bravest of them normally do not add hot sauce to a platter of
fried jalapenos and chili peppers. Make sure that he takes some of this
medicine each hour for the rest of the day."
Later that day, a recovered Carl and a happy Emma walked in to one last
shop. Emma bought a sweatshirt that showed Spuds McKensie getting run over
by a Corona truck on the front, and Carl put on the Baja 500 T-shirt he
had just purchased.
The saleslady handed them their change and asked: "Is the senor here for
the big race.
Carl perked up. "Yup. And I think I just might sign up now that I'm
feeling better."
The smile disappeared from Emma's face and she let out a moan.
The saleslady asked: "Is the senora sick?"
"Naw. Just musta been something she ate."
The next day, Carl stood in line with numerous other drivers signing up
for the Baja 500 Safari Rally. It is, indeed, an interesting concept. The
drivers get to drive their rigs on most of the same course that the racers
do, but with a few important differences: They start after the racers, and
they run on timed rally rules, rather than flat-out racing.
A great deal, of course, depends on the co-pilot, who has to act as the
navigator and feed the driver information.
"Sign here, sir. Now, who will be your co-driver?"
Carl smiled broadly. "Why, my wife, Emma, naturally. Hellfire! She gets me
all over this here country without getting lost, so I figure this should
be no sweat. Emma? Emma? Now where did that woman get off to?"
***
Whoa, folks! It looks like Carl up and did it. But where's Emma? And will
they actually compete? I don't know about you, but, quite frankly, I'm
getting worried. Next month should be interesting.
but it's the most complete thread and gives lots of details. The overview is I bought it as a 'complete' shell out of a garage and planned to build it into a value-priced wheeler using parts I already had. That didn't happen - it ended up as a wheeler built with top-shelf parts that's gathered a lot of love in person and a lot of internet hate
