So You Wanna Be in a Roadster Club
By noderel:
Well Bucko, have I got a deal for you. If you have ever driven through, flown over, or read anything about the Rocky Mountains, you are part way there. You gotta have a genuine, rank and file hot rod roadster. Running, not running, in pieces, or just on paper. Long as it has no top that you keep erected all the time just because your delicate skin may get sun etched. If so, you need to be in a coupe club. Or in Austalia, where you need a top to keep the skin cancer in check.
Anyway, I’m talking about you being appointed a member in questionable standing of the international Rocky Mountain Roadsters. A very elite organization, base entirely on heresy, intimation, disdain, and double chocolate milk shakes. Now, this is no slipshod, fly by PanAm kind of organisation. No siree bub. There ain’t no rules. There ain’t no gotta-do’s and stuff. In fact, there ain’t no meetings, and there ain’t no anything. Except we do have official jackets.
Somewhat like the Danville Dukes (cep’n we predate them), everyone is President for life.
Now, the home club if you want to call it that, is actually in the heart of the Rockies. Right there in downtown (well, one block off main) cultural-center-of-the-universe Driggs, Idaho. Just to help keep everybody kind of visualize something or other, this chapter of the RM Roadsters is called the High Lonesome Gang. I think there are about 7 members. Then, over in Wyoming there is the Hole In The Wall Gang, and the Mile Highers are down in Colorado and off down there in cental Texas are the Misfits, and the Sea Runners are off out there on the Oregon Coast. Gotta mention the Pacific Rim Fires who are in Japan and the Aussie Wolligogs, while the MidPac Pukes (in observerance of their very own Volcano are in Hawaii. There is even rumbling of something in England. All in all, quite a fraternities of no-bodies doing absolutely nothing to further the well-being of mankind.
To be a member,and you meet all the requirements, you gotta be appointed into the club by a member in good standing. Or sitting. And you gotta take the private oath of allegiance, which is to face El Mirage, place you hand on a hot radiator, and promise to avoid closed cars as much as possible. Very binding. The other way is to send a letter by snail mail to the club HQ (PO box 547, Driggs, Idaho 83422 with your return address and ask to be appointed. Someone or other may actually get around to giving you a windshield decal. Maybe not. You can then order a club jacket by contacting Wen Dell Jordan at PO Box 630, Hico,Texas 76457, or e-mail [email protected] and ask about jacket costs. You may actually get a reply. Or maybe not. Just remember that once in, there ain’t no out. You’re stuck driving a roadster for life. Or ten years, whichever comes first.
No dues, no newsletter, no interference with your mis-adventures, and the only thing that resembles a gathering is at Bonneville during SpeedWeek. Where there is no gathering. Boy, do we ever have fun. Oh yea, we got a mailing address down in Australia, it is 56 William St., Castlemaine, VIC 3450. Sometimes there is someone actually there. Maybe not.