Dana and I arrived at the campout early, due to coincidence and good luck,
and set up next to Snoopy, who had traveled indirectly from Indigibus to
Oktoberbus. It was a beautiful fall day, slightly breezy but not cold, just
crisp. We were, at least.

Snoopy gave us a full report on Indigibus, the sweat lodges, mud fighting,
and the legendary spaghetti, which will probably go down in club history. We
set up camp, engaged in the popular activity of creative tarp pitching
(Diesel had arrived by then, and he has extensive experience and skill in
this sport. A casual survey of the various tarps around about the campground
revealed our effort to be far more ingenious than any of our competitors,
but sadly, no-one else noticed.)

As it turned out, the 'Society for Creative Anachronisms' was sharing the
campground with us, and had massed in a magnitude exceeding 100. They were
bivouacked up the hill past the auditorium in the large field, and our
encampment was in the woods, below the auditorium. Everyone was expecting a
peaceful co-existence, and so we were taken somewhat by surprise when an
invading horde (dressed in their medieval garb of tunics, tights, jerkins
and similar apparel) appeared within our tie-dyed midst on Friday night.
Faced with this frightening multitude, Diesel, Hot Dog Henley, myself, and
components of the Tennessee Mechanized gathered our courage and prepared to
do battle with the infiltrators.

We opened the engagement with a salvo from our beer engine, which
unfortunately did not have the surprise effect we were hoping for, as they
had hidden within their cloaks elaborate steins, which they produced to
directly receive our fire. They returned in kind with a fusillade of Irish
whiskey, which blow we accepted and absorbed without too much difficulty.
After some failed peace negotiations, we laid our final siege, achieving the
ultimate victory and forcing their retreat with a surprise tray of Dana's
brownies, which left them nearly incapacitated. We suffered only one
casualty (not fatal) when Snoopy's doghouse crashed during an ill-advised
late night (and impaired) reconnaissance mission. It was fixed and flying
the next day, recovering our air superiority. Once again, General Blasphemy
Reigns.

Saturday morning the World Famous Breakfast Burritos magically appeared, and
sated the appetites of all in attendance. Mad Uncle Dave prepared over three
pounds of chorizo this time, and it was all devoured.

Later in the morning, we went up to the auditorium to witness the civil wars
of the Kingdom of Atlantia. We were engrossed by the broadsword
competitions, compete with elaborate taunts, magnificent suits of armor, and
the featured appearance of M.U.D. We were also mightily enchanted by the
fencing rivalry, especially as all the combatants were festooned with many
colorful ribbons.

When we arrived back in camp, we discovered that Diesel and I had been
drafted into the bonfire firewood brigade. Equipped with nothing but a
cooler of beer, we mounted Hot Dog's Single Cab Isuzu for a mad 100-yard
dash across the street to where M.U.D. was sectioning a fallen tree with his
chain saw. I did not lose a drop of beer during the operation, but Diesel
did manage to loose his keys.

The bonfire was a success, many door prizes were distributed, and the
co-host position was ceremoniously passed from Brad to M.U.D. An entire
engine case AND a wheel were spectacularly sacrificed on the pyre.

No skirmishes were reported on Saturday night, but plans were made for next
year's battle, so please remember to bring your Star Trek uniforms.

Thank you everyone, Doc Ric, Brad and Mad Uncle Dave for a fine time.

Tom and Dana Cates
Asheville, NC
83 Air-Cooled Westfalia, 'Hammurabi'
http://www.fullmoonbusclub.com/ "Home of the World Famous Breakfast
Burritos"
http://www.type2.com/rescue/
http://members.home.net/fullmooninjoon/index.htm