Dear friends,

what follows in a very lengthy account of a most unusual trip to bubba land.

Ever since the famous TCM bubba gathering, my wife has referred to clyde-ecounters as "going to Bubba land". My trip into the land of bubba yesterday turned out to be more of an adventure than I'd ever imagined. David Marker from Lawrence was in for a meeting so we arranged to go to Kickapoo Park in near Danville, IL to run the Clear Pond 5k and "encounter" Su Quarles and Mike Johnson.

The trip to Danville got off to a slow start after we finally connected. We headed out on historic route 66, our spirits soaring confident we could make it Kicakpoo by 11. All was well until we passed through the thriving metropolis of Bourbonnais-- thriving from the revenue generated in their speed traps. There was A cop standing beside the road with radar gun in hand. we rounded the bend and found a road block. Busted. I relinquished my bond card, accepted the ticket, and resigned myself to the $75 fine. The officer inquired about our destination. He suggested I57 was the worst possible way to go to Danville, instead he instructed us to take 45 to 24 to 1, and save ourselves 45 minutes. That sounded good, because now we were even later. we had less than 2 hours to cover the 120 miles.

We made it onto highway 1 and were making good time, but then we passed a state trooper going in the other direction. He came to a screeching stop, lights on and whipped around after us. OH NO! ITS NOT POSSIBLE.... alas, it was. Busted! another speeding ticket. I had commented to David that I hadn't had a ticket since 1987... this time I had to surrender my driver's license in lieu of posting $75 bond. ironic how the first cop suggested that we take this route.

Now we really were late. we were pulling up as the race began. We parked, leapt out of the car, and the race director told us not to worry about numbers etc, and that we wouldn't get lost, just go follow the trail. No warmup, no bathroom break, and there we were dashing on the muddy trail. Immediately David slipped and fell in the mud. I hit the trail a little more gingerly and remained up right. It was narrow and winding, completely muddy, up and down through the woods, we followed the well worn track. We were all alone for the first 1/2 mile until we passed a few walkers. we came upon a giant mud wall with toe holes and a walker struggling up. It was so narrow we couldn't pass. After we crested the hill and got around her, we came upon Su wearing a penguin sweatshirt, and it was virtual clyde instant recognition. We pressed ahead through the mud, leaves and half exposed tree roots, through gullies and up embankments. AT one point I looked up and found that I was in a beautiful grotto with clear pond stretching out ahead surrounded by hills and trees. wonderful, ah, but we couldn't look, had to watch the ground. in the last mile we caught up with the back of the pack and couldn't pass. I finally made a quick break around two runners, and ran all out for the last 200 yards-- the only flat, straight stretch with good footing in the whole race. I crossed the finish line, official time >36 min, actually running time 29:20. David was right on my heels. We meet Mike who somehow could tell who we were. IN a few minutes Su crossed the line, a victim of her hamstring. Su and Mike were both quite amused to learn why we happen to be late for the race. We retired to the C&W Half-Way house on the outskirts of Danville and feasted on chili, pizza and free beer. David and I were each awarded an awesome polyester tractor hat to commemorate our now legendary journey to Danville. It was an excellent bubbaland banquet, and with the excitement of the journey, and an exhilarating jaunt through the forest-- the essential clyde encounter.

When I got home after avoiding further difficulties with the law on the drive back, I told Karen all about my trip to Bubba Land. She took my car keys away from me.

He who now rides the El-- buck