Next time he'll take along some WD-40 (05/10/06)

Yes, I admit it. That was an eight-foot tent pole in the car with me the other day.

Actually, it might have been taller than that. I haven't measured it.

Let me explain, or try to.

Several months ago, we came up with the idea of putting out a publication — sort of a combination program and newspaper — for people attending events at XPLEX Extreme Competition Park.

Though XPLEX has had kind of a stuttering start, we think (I think) it makes sense to develop a print medium that has appeal to folks who are attending events and provides a way for local businesses to advertise to that audience.

Is it a big enough attraction yet? Maybe or maybe not.

Does it have the potential to be a big enough attraction? I think so.

Our strategy was to develop a publication we're calling Xtreme Xpress, aimed at that audience, both real and potential.

The first edition came out in conjunction with the motocross events the past two weekends.

And once they were printed, there was the little — and very practical — problem of distribution.

Our plan was to set up a tent at the motocross event and pass copies of Xtreme Xpress out to those who were in attendance. Simple enough, right?

But what tent?

We have a big, family tent purchased more than 20 years ago, but that's not what was needed. Fortunately, about the same time we bought our tent we bought a secondary piece.

My parents would have called it a "cooking fly" in the camper jargon of the 1960s; we would have called it a "para-wing" in the tent-designer jargon of the 1980s.

The name didn't matter. What mattered was that it provided just enough shade from the sun and just enough protection from the rain to be functional for such an event.

So, for the past two weekends, it was drafted into service. Sure, it's almost 20 years old. And, sure, it's been more than ten years since I set the thing up.

But it was the best solution under the circumstances.

The first weekend, it served pretty well. O.K., I'll admit that it collapsed once when a stake snapped, but I'll blame that on the wind.

The second weekend, it was great.

It looked cool, served its purpose, and offered a return on investment far better than anything you can find on Wall Street.

Then it came time to break camp and head for home.

The stakes were no problem, came up without a hitch.

But when I tried to pull apart the two pieces of each tent pole, I ran into some difficulty.

One separated cleanly. The other was obstinate.

I tugged. I twisted. I whacked the thing with a hand ax.

And in the end, I gave up. Surrendered.

One pole went neatly into its sack. So did the stakes. So did the fly/para-wing.

The other pole? The one that refused to come apart?

It rode home in the car with me, one end resting on the dashboard and the other resting on the deck by the rear window.

Next time, I'll take some WD-40 along.[[In-content Ad]]