Getting Rolling -- the '06 Journey Begins

Funny thing about engines: they're happier when they're working. Might also be true of people.

Getting the engine started for our 3rd annual trip to Tempe a few weeks ago took all three batteries. Still, after a good 10 minutes of idling she was purring like a 2-packs-a-day mountain goat. As we climbed out of California and entered Arizona, the engine smoothed out nicely. Until we let Arty drive.

Arty (yes, the One-Man-Party) Baron was along for the ride, along with veteran companion Ed Ratledge, me, Jack, and Arty's surfer friend Ty. After our one stop for gas, Arty offered to spell me at the wheel. Experience has taught that the home is happiest between 50 and 55 mph, but Arty had other things on his mind. While most people might take a few minutes, or months to warm up to driving a 31' vehicle, Arty was being telephone interviewed by Volleyball Magazine within minutes of taking the wheel. Also within a few minutes we hit 57 mph. Jack reminded Arty to take it easy. Still being interviewed, Arty crept it to 60. Minutes later, Ed glanced at his GPS and told us we'd hit 65. Jack, who wears many hats, put on his enforcer cap and kept Arty well under 75 the rest of the way to Tempe. The home will surely thank us later for the chance to stretch its legs.

Parked it at the site and proceeded to step on, then quickly off the sand. I’m no meteorologist, but I’m guessing the sand was ‘hot.’ Eventually, a watered down version of your regular court opened up and we got a short workout in for the next day's qualifier. This being a small draw, 17th or better got in to the Main Draw. Scott Hill and I took a 25th by beating a very small then a very large team.

The rest of the weekend we tooled the home through downtown Tempe gathering folks for a Sunday afternoon poolside BBQ. The pool, BBQ, multiple showers, and a remarkably addictive video game provided by Arty’s friend Mike. Thanks, Mike!

Cruised the rolling home home on Monday with the addition of Ed’s wife Jessica, who’d flown out to catch his strong 5th place finish. By cleverly keeping Arty out of the vehicle, we kept the home cruising like a Kenyan marathoner back to Venice.

Incidentally, while driving I pointed out that the odomoter had just turned over -- the home had officially crossed the 100,000-mile mark. Ed suggested pulling over, getting out the cameras, calling Guinness, yada. He liked my response: "Nah, we'll just catch it at the the 200."