|  In relentless pursuit of the nagging question... is this really more fun? 1:29 PM, Wednesday, May 25th 2005: I just received this from Our Illustrious Leader, Engineer and Mad Scientist Howdy Goudey: "...Last night we got everything assembled, including the new huge paddle wheels, so we might actually manage a sink-or-float, paddled-or-no paddled test tonight in the Petaluma river. We plan to drive up on Friday and get there about 5:00pm for some last minute decorating. Honest, when have I been wrong about this? See you soon. Howdy" For the answer to Howdy's "...when have I been wrong about this?" question, click the links (left) to ANY previous year. 9:06 AM, Thursday, May 26th 2005:
(Now that I think about it, "it floats" isn't much of a breakthrough; even the ill-fated Cow-Trans incarnation floated. Forget you read that part...) 10:46 AM Friday, May 27th 2005: Trouble in Monkey-land: "Well, we did manage to test yesterday, but because it was a little rushed, two of the paddle chains came off. Still, we could move ourselves quite well with the two remaining paddles, so the water propulsion seems promising. However, when we tried to climb back out the boat ramp we were generally uncoordinated and managed to twist up three of the connecting shafts from the pedals to the transmissions, so there are some new repairs for today. Howdy" 5:32 PM Friday, May 27th 2005: The machine is en route and presumably repaired. Or am I being too presumptuous? Day 1- Saturday, May 28th 2005: The machine converged at my house in Eureka where we added foliage, signage and monkeys, and the convoy of trailered sculpture and support vehicles headed across the safety corridor to Arcata. A motorcyclist pulled up alongside the trailer and surveyed the machine, then paused briefly at the window to give Howdy the kinetic spectator glance - that mixture of amusement and pity that one grows accustomed to when one participates in the KSR... Noon Whistle  Off we go! The trip through the bottoms were highlighted by the successful maiden voyage if the sculpture's working blender (yes, you read right - there's a blender on the thing), and though I managed to spill a significant portion of it down my arm, the part of the smoothy that made it past my taste buds was delicious.The Arcata bottoms prominently featured cows. We managed to miss several traffic cones on the way to Manila... DUNES The climb up the dunes at Manila has never exactly been a picnic, but the BOM climbed steadily, reaching the beach without injury, and under constant surveillance by someone claiming to be an "Ace Judge." (I suspect she was CIA, just updating our files). Almost as quickly as it began, the easy ride down the beach...  On the Beach (with Flat Stanley). BOM Literature Moment- Flat Stanley, by Jeff Brown: When Stanley is squashed flat, his parents treat his condition as more of a logistical challenge than a medical emergency... ...was cut short by a course change and replaced by an extended trudge through the dunes. We did push during the legal push zone, but only after Howdy insisted they try pedalling through it. The machine kept working, but the dunes were hard on all the racers, to such a degree that we were forced to once again fire up the blender for a smoothy break. Dead Man's Drop  The approach to DMD is particularly nasty, but our pilots plugged along and made it through. And BOM sailed down DMD as though it were... (forgive me, dear reader: it's late, I'm tired, and a decent metaphor escapes me).As we approached the highway that runs over the Samoa bridge, 6 PM arrived, and all of us noticed that we were not in Eureka yet. But a yellow shirted official assured us that while we'd recieve a midnight "arrival time," our Ace status was intact. Samoa Bridge: Up, Down, Up, Down, Up, Down, turn right. 7:18 PM Saturday, May 28th 2005: Finish line! A little late, but the machine is intact, and so is our Ace status. Day 2- 10:18 AM Sunday, May 29th 2005: One hour after the official start (a few uncooperative bolts and a chain ring that required a sound whacking with a wrench), the sculpture performed a glorious high-speed, high-splash entry into the bay:
So it all looked pretty good. Until... The BOM began to list a bit (I found it oddly nostalgic), and we heard (via our 2-way wrist radio) that one of the paddle wheels was no longer participating in the race. Luckily, they were able to move adequately, if a bit slower, with only three paddles. Until... The wind had picked up, and the southbound section of the course didn't look pretty. I watched the climb up the boat ramp from afar (Close-up mpeg of the ascent here; 3.5 MB), then attended a ballet recital from my AWESOME 4 1/2 year-old... so my firsthand account for the bay-to-crab-park section of the race will not be firsthand. So far (5:08 Sunday), I have heard that the machine has not yet ascended the BIG hill, nor have they set barrel on Cannibal Island Road. This indicates to me that something dire must have occurred; "normally" (forgive the use of that term), the machine performs well enough on land to be at Crab Park much earlier than 7PM, but it appears that the sun will be well on it's way down before the Barrel empties at Crab Park. This just in: As of 5:36 PM, BOM has NOT yet reached the summit of Loleta hill! What could have happened? Did something break? Did someone lose a limb? I'll be camping with the rest of the Monkeys this evening, so I'll count everybody's appendages and report back. Day 3- Monday, May 30th 2005: Well, here I am, reporting back. Turns out that the above-mentioned yellow shirted official was, to coin a phrase, full of hooey. Turns out there are indeed set time limits for ACE status. It's almost as if this were a race or something. My promised appendage count yielded some disturbing figures (mostly fives, one six, and a three I'd rather not think about), but none of my findings indicated the loss of any body parts. As it turns out, the delay was due mostly to lollygagging, throwing feces, and the loss of a brake pad on Loleta Hill. Brakes are overrated anyway. I met up with the craft on it's final trajectory toward Crab Park. They were moving well, so I assume that the Cannibals for which the road was named were busy gnawing on faster vehicles (yet another argument for slowness). BOM finally arrived at something like 7:20 PM, but frankly none of us were paying very close attention so I can't be sure. Crab Park: There was a fiery maelstrom of effigial chickenburning, multiple fire dancers, random explosions, and frequent illuminating bursts from the enormous propane-powered fire cannon that had been used to start the fiery maelstrom of effigial chickenburning.
Then the sun came up and we had breakfast. Due to a cruel twist of fate involving tides and permits and dainty riparian foliage, the traditional water/mud component of the third day was re-routed out of existence. We knew that the sculptures were being held up in bunches at the bottom of the bridge into Ferndale to allow  gas-burning traffic to pass, so we had the perfect excuse to make more smoothies. I was sent on a detour into Loleta to purchase more ice ("We have a blender on the sculpture, and they want to make smoothies," I said to the nonplussed man behind the counter. "Of course they do," he replied). After a bit of a wait at the Fernbridge bottleneck, we pulled into the parking lot. Howdy pedalled the ice and fruit to a refreshing froth (bananas featured prominently in the concoction, of course), and we passed out smoothies to our pilots, pit crew and as many nearby kineticists as we could supply. The sedatives we placed in the other racer's beverages were virtually undectectable. BWAHAHAAAA.... Our spirits rose, buoyed by the smoothies and by the sight of the white steeple from the church in downtown Ferndale, growing ever closer... but then they were dashed as the sugar-high wore off and the course took a cruel right turn through endless farmland. We saw some cute baby cows and several fields where they grow those giant marshmallows,  and after something like two more hours, we pulled back out onto the road into Ferndale only about a quarter mile past the cruel right turn.  We "barrelled" (sorry) into downtown Ferndale, greeted by a welcome cacophony of monkey noises... ...then we made smoothies again. For The Glory In keeping with tradition, this year's incarnation did not ACE, but there was much glory: The Barrel of Monkeys received the Runnerup Award for the Glorious Splashdown (photo above; Bikin Fools won- their splash got the Sunset Magazine photographer!), and also the 6:32 award for being the first to cross the finish line after 6:32, losing ace status:  So yet another perfectly good Memorial Day weekend has been squandered on the Kinetic Sculpture Race. And while everyone mourned the absence of the mud crossing, there was considerable foolishness and a respectable amount of mayhem that more than compensated. Don't tell anybody, but there were rumors drifting around that Howdy's barrel-bearing contraption might be retired this year. However, I suspect that it might have one more year left. The END would be most poetic if the machine was demolished after ACEing the race... and since this year the only enemy was time (unlike previous years, where the enemies were metallic and welded and popping and snapping and shearing and scraping), one can't help but wonder what would happen if we managed to shave an hour or two here and there off of our lunch and smoothy breaks... -Mike 2005 Monkey Pit Crew  Photos & movies by Christian, Chuck, Gayla, Dawn, Carlo, Howdy, Robin, and several other monkeys. Graphics by Mike and some guy from Milton Bradley. |
