Report from Bob E. (He's doing lots of writing recently) on the Oktoberfest Tour

       "Bob....I've got six inches".  Bob Laroche told me as he offered some pictures.  I didn't know whether to congratulate him or offer him condolences.  I'd gotten to know Robert fairly well in the last couple of years but I thought that this was a bit too personal.  Hesitantly taking the pictures and looking at them I was relieved to see some blurry images of a large bug smeared on his Renault's (I'm sure Bob E. meant "Citroën's" - ed.) windscreen.  We discussed his entry in the bug splat contest as 17 cars fought for parking space at the gasthouse parking lot near Knightville.
      An hour or so earlier, wife and I had been sitting by the Burton Bridge with Robert and Nettie Hogg waiting for the FABACians to pass by. I was a bit ashamed that our top was up but darn!...it was chilly and overcast AND we didn't have one of them fancy rear wind blockers.  We only had time to rib each other for a minute when 13 LBCs (mostly) motored past honking and waiving.  I was cheered to see that everyone had their tops up.  Oh...there was Dwight with his top down, but he was on his own and so was free to freeze his ears off to his hearts content.
      Despite the not-the-best weather, it was another pleasant drive south. The river valley drive is pretty hard to beat and we eventually drifted east towards Sussex. Jim Bleakney had picked some nice country roads and we all enjoyed the passing scenery delivered to the comfort of our cabins in wide windscreen format. At our mid-trip tea-pee stop in Berwick we where met by no less than four cars from the Saint John gang.  They all had their tops down and immediately harangued us for being a bunch of milk toasts.  Under cross questioning it came to light that that it was much warmer down on the coast AND they where all driving newer and warmer cars.  Robert was busy assembling his roof as Nettie warmed her cockles inside the gas station so the friendly argument was laid to rest. There, I discovered that the Crumley's trusty 'B' had refused to start. We'd experienced several breakdowns this season and I assumed that Anne and Johns pre-trip breakdown had used up all the trip's bad luck.  We could continue on our way relaxing in the knowledge that there would be no more mechanical problems.
      The German restaurant was not far away and at this hour mostly deserted.  We'd eaten there before and knew what to expect.  Just as we were ordering drinks, another Saint John-ian arrived rounding the numbers to 18 cars.  This was a season record for us and we all patted our collective back for such a good turn out.  Dinner was as dinner usually is—great.  It was an early dinner/late lunch and we (for once) took our time.  In an uncharacteristic display of restraint, no one had eaten too much and our table asked about dessert.  John Bowles inquired about the dessert special and was told by the waitress, "It's me!" Quick to reply, he asked with a straight face if she came with cream. A short silence ensued as we all waited with huge grins for a reply. Fortunately (or not) the rest of the exchange was civil and quite funny.
      Once outside we bid farewell and made for our cars.  Unfortunately Dwight was at that moment struck with another shot of bad luck as his B refused to start. It took a good half hour of fiddling but the trouble was eventually traced to a good old Lucas glass fuse that had brought his entire electrical system to it's knees (note to self: start carrying (again) a small multimeter). Between all of us we only had a zillion spares and the cleanest was installed and a much relieved Dwight fired his car up. We wandered home via highway 10, splitting with the Saint John folks at Sussex. 
      As this is probably the last run for the season it was fitting that so many attended.

Photos from Ellie available here.