Articles on 1997 ISOA Events
Last updated November 1, 1997
Here's a Quick Index of some of the things we've
done in 1997...
Quadfest IX
August 23-24, 1997
This year, our four-state gathering of Triumphs, the annual Quadfest,
was held during the Heartland British Car Festival in East Davenport, Iowa.
A separate event in past years, this year's Quadfest host club (ISOA -
that's us!) decided to combine it with the Quad Cities British Auto Club's
event since the summer calendar was already overflowing with other Triumph
activities and we didn't want to do much work...
The Heartland show started late Saturday afternoon with and hour+ scenic
drive. An estimated 50-60 cars participated. The drive was followed by
a catered picnic in a local park, with lots of door prizes and conversation.
Those who didn't picnic ate elsewhere. A few made trips to the "President"
gambling boat down the street. Some returned with smiles, others didn't
for some reason.
Sunday morning saw an estimated 170 cars and cycles gather on the streets
of the Village of East Davenport, a community of specialty shops and restaurants,
where the cars were lined up along the streets. The town had closed the
street for the event. Nice layout for a show. The Heartland organizers
put on a well organized show, dampened only by a couple of brief but heavy
rain showers. The people's choice ballotting resulted in awards in 25 classes
(5 of the Triumph classes). Several of our members took awards including
Jake Jaquet (TR3B) and Ed Mitchell (modified TR6). Thanks to the Quad Cities
club, especially Frank Ege, Ken Kelly and Naomi Swanson, for hosting a
fun event.
As far as our Quadfest "sub-show" went, 42 Triumphs registered
- quite a few more than normally attend the Heartland show. A group drove
down from Minnesota with brochures for the 1998 VTR convention in Winona.
(Sounds like their plans are well along.) ISOA presented dash plaques to
all Triumph entrants and held a special balloting for the event's "Best
Triumph". The award was won by our very own Jake Jaquet for his TR3B.
Congratulations, Jake.
Attendance, by state, for Quadfest was:
IL - 18
IA - 16
KS - 1
MN - 5
WI - 2
After the show, Jake led a caravan of nine cars (18 people, including
several from the British Boots and Bonnets club of Rockford) to Ladd, Illinois,
near LaSalle-Peru (not really the shortest distance home from the Quad
Cities) for Rip's world famous chicken dinner (with fried grease and pickle
appetizers). Only one breakdown on the way - Whiz Kid had a flat on a redline
and the group actually stopped to help him. We had the usual hour+ wait
at Rip's but the beverages flowed freely. Then, on for ice cream. Afterwards,
Jake led us on a quick-paced back roads return to the Byron/Rockford area.
Nice drive at night. I hope I never have to retrace our route. The detour
to Ladd was well worth it.
ISOA members in attendance were: Bob Streepy, Jeff Rust & Karen
& Nicki & Hannah, Jack and Barb Billimack, Ann, Megan & Tim
Buja, Donna & Jake Jaquet, Ed & Kathy Mitchell, Bob & Alice
Crowley, Mike & Diane Mueller. Everyone seemed to have a good time.
Can't wait till next year.
Jack Billimack
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Sweatfest '97 Report
(our trip to Texas for NATC XXII/VTR National Convention)
July 8-14, 1997
Sponsored by Sparkling Spring Water, the Official Bottled Water
of the Trip to Sweatfest (just ask Hops' boss)
Tuesday, July 8
The plan was to meet at Streepy's house since his house was as close
as we were going to get to a central location. We were going in two cars,
the Billimack TR6 and the Manteno daily driver, renamed the Triumph Acclaim
for this journey (Elwood's TR6 was suffering from a brake malady). The
Acclaim provided extra cargo capacity, which was a good thing since the
TR6 was already loaded with Billimack's stuff and Streepy's stuff was on
the ground next to the car. Part of that stuff on the ground was a case
of Sparkling Spring Water, the Official Bottled Water of the Trip to Sweatfest.
We were planning on a 5:30 AM departure from Bartlett. Unusual by ISOA
standards, we actually left on time. In a show of solidarity with his travel
mates, Elwood promised not to use the A/C in the Acclaim until the trip
home. What a fool.
Our two car caravan managed to stay together for almost two miles before
we became separated. The CB radios brought along for such an occurrance
apparently don't have any range at all and turned out to be almost useless.
The missing TR6 waited ahead on the shoulder, and the Acclaim joined up.
We were on our way again. We had practically ideal travel conditions, and
were in Pontiac, IL in no time. Spuds' bladder actually outlasted his fuel
supply. The top went down on the TR6 and we were on our way again. We were
making great time, by 9:00 we are already in Springfield, heading towards
St. Louis. Just outside St. Louis, we came across a contrast in style.
The TR6 cruised past a Miata. The Miata was not only top up, but the driver
has the A/C on. What's the point? This was the only other sports car we
saw on the entire drive to Texas. Where is everybody?
We crossed Old Man River, and headed south on 1-44. Our original destination
was going to be Joplin, MO. But we were making such good time, that we
were already starting to think about going further. We were on the other
side of St. Louis, and it was only 11:00. What a difference a year makes.
The speed limit was posted at 70 mph, the highest we'd seen in some time.
Near Springfield, MO, we stopped for gas and saw a place called Tiny's
Barbecue. We decided that we were on an adventure and should go to this
joint for lunch. Turned out to be an excellent choice, as long as you like
pig meat. They have two menus - one for locals, one for Yankees.
After lunch, we decided to go beyond Joplin, and made a motel reservation
in Tulsa. We spotted a bumper sticker on an Oklahoma licensed pick up:
"I dip and spit, do you swallow"? There was a billboard up ahead
advertising Ozarkland. They were advertising a "blowout" sale.
Who would want to buy a blowout? Our favorite billboard was one that advertised
microsurgery "vasectomy reversal, results guaranteed".
We crossed into Oklahoma, and were greeted by a 75 mph speed limit on
the Will Rogers Turnpike. It has been written in various car magazines
that people drive as fast as they feel comfortable. This seemed to be proven
out on this trip. While driving through 55 mph areas in Illinois, traffic
was moving 75-80. The same held true on the Will Rogers Turnpike, even
with the 75 mph speed limit. We were driving the speed limit or a little
above, and frequently passed slower cars, while seldom being passed ourselves.
While we were in Missouri, there was a sign posted that we were 101 miles
from Tulsa. Now we were in Oklahoma, and Tulsa was 102 miles away. We arrived
at our motel, after driving about 700 miles. Elwood mentioned that we were
only two hours from Oklahoma City. In fact, we were only five hours from
Ft. Worth, and it was only 6:00. Elwood suggested we could be there the
same night. Spuds and Hops were not amused. The motel, a Super 8, had its
best days behind it. This turned out to be a theme that was to be repeated
every night of this trip except the last one. The air conditioner couldn't
keep up and the TV was dead. We only had to change rooms once though, and
at least there was a good restaurant next door. The Restaurant was called
Fajita Rita's. Elwood had eaten in one of these on a different trip, and
knew it to be okay, so we tempted the gods and ate Mexican food 700 miles
from home. All was fine, especially the BF Margaritas. Even Elwood had
one.
Wednesday, July 9
7:15 AM, and we were on the road again. It was noticeably hotter. In
fact, it was over 90 by 9:00 AM. Elwood was listening to local radio (Tulsa)
and heard an ad for a body piercing store. Their phone number was 524-OUCH.
No joke.
We stopped at a gas station near the Texas border. The coffee drinkers
among us were distressed to discover that the facilities were out of order,
so they took their business elsewhere. There was a cornfield next to the
gas station, Spuds and Hops disappeared into it like a scene from Field
of Dreams. They emerged smiling.
We arrived at the Green Oaks Convention Center (which has no Oaks and
nothing green) around 1 2:30 PM. A sign near the front door reminded all
patrons to check their guns at the door. We immediately ran into people
we knew from previous conventions. Elwood, who was lazy and did not preregister,
was stunned to receive registration # 123. We were going to have a small
crowd.
We checked into the room and unloaded the cars. One of the items we
unloaded was the case of Sparlding Spring Water, the official Bottled Water
of the trip to Sweatfest. After that, it was back to the parking lot. The
Green Oaks was not unlike the Clock Tower in layout. It just wasn't nearly
as nice. Age had taken its toll on the place. It didn't look that bad or
run down, but it just wasn't what it used to be. But Hell, neither are
we. There were several wings, with parking all around. We walked the lot,
greeting friends, looking at the cars, and trying to decide where to set
up for parking lot patrol that evening (we chose a grassy knoll near the
front entrance to the hotel). There was a brief rain shower which had many
people scurrying to put their tops up. Good thing, because 15 minutes after
the brief shower ended, there was a big one. But it didn't last long either,
just made a river through the center of the parking lot.
Spuds and Hops entered the first event of the Convention, the Funkhana.
They ended up taldng second place, although no one knows which one of them
was driving on the trophy run. This turned out to be the only ISOA trophy
for the entire event.
Back up in the room, Spuds and Elwood were told that Hops had accidentally
disconnected the adult movies from our room. Hops was so anguished by this
mishap, that he immediately went to the front desk to request that they
reinstate our privileges. He claimed the young woman at the desk would
not make eye contact with him during this request. We also confirmed that
the air conditioner in the room could not keep up with the heat of a Texas
summer. Even though the thermostat was set at meat locker, the room never
really did cool down. A visit from hotel maintenance pronounced the unit
to be functioning as well as it could (Scottish brogue here 'Aye Captain,
she's giving it everything she's got'). Good thing the temperatures were
only in the mid 90s, almost 10 degrees cooler on a daily basis than at
the '88 Convention which was in Dallas.
The pool party was scheduled for that evening. Everything was set up
around the pool, and then at about T minus 35 minutes, the Green Oaks was
rocked by a thunderclap, followed by an even louder thunderclap, followed
by a deluge, complete with sideways rain. Arrything that had been set up
for the pool party was now across the street.
The pool party became the Grand Ballroom party. Your ever frugal correspondents
managed to make a dinner out of the hors d'oevores. Elwood had another
Margarita. Then we went out to a conveniently located ice cream parlor.
After the ice cream, we set up for parking lot patrol, and ran into Kent
Martin, former ISOA member now living in New Mexico, and Les Francis, former
ISOA member now living in Texas. Parking lot patrol attracted several Minnesotans
(ya shure, you betcha). From spending just a little bit of time with them,
we can tell that we are going to have a major hoot at next year's Convention.
Thursday, July 10
The main event of the day was the autocross, held in the parking lot
of a Nieman-Marcus. A perky local news gal, seriously overdressed and without
an apparent clue of what she was reporting on, did a remote for a local
TV station. She was accompanied by a surly cameraman.
Streepy, in his maiden autocross, actually beat Spuds while driving
Spuds car ('I don't give a damn about the car, Elwood will drive me home"),
despite having a DNF during his first run for missing virtually every gate,
including the first one. Each of Spuds' runs was progressively slower.
After one of the runs, the TR6 wouldn't start. It turned out that the solenoid
ground had fallen off. This was discovered and fixed by a TR6 racer from
Atlanta who was in town visiting his family and found us by accident. His
skinny arm and nomex gloves had the wire back on in no time. This was to
be the only mechanical difficulty of the entire trip (for us).
Hops and Spuds went on the Granbury Rally, which featured locating and
collecting dehydrated cowflop to turn in for bonus points. They successfully
collected their organic frisbee. Granbury is the Texas version of Long
Grove, without any tavems. Hops began to hallucinate, either from the heat
or from his alcohol level falling below safe operating levels.There was
a side trip to a transportation museum with lots of derelict planes, trains,
and automobiles. Thursday night was the VTR annual meeting. The theme of
the meeting seemed to be "Lynch Andy Mace" (Most Esteemed High
Triumph Potentate/President VTR). This was truly unfair, as Andy had only
recently become president following the passing away of previous President
Dennis Riley, and could hardly be held responsible for the complaints of
the whiners. Andy demonstrated tremendous self control by not killing a
dozen or so attendees, even though they truly deserved it. No judge who
observed the situation would have convicted Andy.
The auction followed the meeting. There were even some items auctioned
off that had actual Triumph relevance. Streepy (I'm not a real auctioneer
but I played one in Rockford) did not bid. A VTR first.
The ISOA contingent went back to the ice cream parlor before resuming
parking lot patrol. At the parlor, there was a female member of the local
law community. She had loads of hair piled way up there. Naturally, Spuds
had to take a picture. We kept moving around until said law enforcement
official was in the background of the shot. This is a technique that Spuds
has perfected to take pictures of interesting bikers and their ladies with
out getting beaten up at the Turkey Testicle Festival. Hops, Spuds, and
Elwood all discovered that their pants had shrunk, apparently from the
heat. Streepy went to the front desk to again inquire when we might expect
our adult movie channel to return. Parking lot patrol attracted a larger
crowd than the first night.
Friday, July 11
Streepy and Spuds participated in the TSD rally, with Streepy driving.
Spuds was convinced that ISOA would win a trophy since they seemed to make
every checkpoint +/- a few nanoseconds. They weren't even close. The fact
that the TR6 speedo is off by 20-30% might have been a corytributing factor.
Hops and Spuds found an all you can eat pizza lunch for $2.99. Pants continued
to shrink.
There were tech sessions in the afternoon, and we also made the annual
pilgrimage to the traveling Roadster Factory. One small bag and several
charge slips later, we headed out to the pool. There is a group called
the Scions of Lucas on the Internet. One of the Texas SOL members had invited
all those attending to join him for a beer (he bought). This was originally
scheduled for Wednesday afternoon, but was rained out. We had a chance
to meet 15 - 20 people that we have communicated with but never met. We
haven't heard from some of them since.
The panoramic photo was to be taken Friday evening. Spuds and Streepy
went to the Fort Worth stockyards for the photo, and then went with the
group to Billy Bob's World's Largest Honky Tonk for much needed cool beverage.
Spuds bought a set of homs for his car. Cow horns, not Clear Hooters. We
weren't sure if they were to be his souvenir of the trip, or a gift for
Barb. He immediately duct taped them to his grille, hoping to endear himself
to the locals (and perhaps earn some points in the peoples' choice balloting
at the show). Back at the hotel, they washed the TR6 in preparation for
the Saturday car show. Apparently they missed a spot, since the car did
not win an award in the beauty contest The homs did attract some interesting
comments.
Saturday, July 12
The car show and autojumble were held in the hotel lot. The layout was
not conducive to traditional marshaling, and the doorstop shaped TRs were
assigned to another zip code. Their owners were not happy. One of the highlights
of the show, and in fact the entire Convention, was the 1935 Triumph Gloria
Sputhern Cross. This car was a beaut. There was also a TR7 whose owner
had installed the UK Dolomite twin cam engine. Very nice. Rumor had it
that the winning TR250's owner had spent megabucks to create a virtual
museum piece. He may have succeeded, since no one seemed to see the car
actually being driven.
Saturday evening was the awards banquet. The Minnesota people put on
a skit to drum up interest in the Convention for 1998. It was then that
we found out that the state bird of Minnesota is the mosquito. The host
club showed slides on a big screen of the show winning cars. Autocross
winners, rally winners, and funkhana winners were conspicuously absent
in the slide show. Door prize presentation lasted until the wee hours,
and then it was time for the last night of parking lot patrol. Spuds bet
Kent Howard (Vintage Triumphs of Wisconsin) that there would be more Illinois
cars in Winona than Wisconsin cars. Seems like a sucker bet for Spuds because
VTOW has about twice as many members as our club. Knowing Spuds' willingness
to throw money around (he could be the ISOA answer to George Halas), this
is a serious wager.
Sunday, July 13
We make our tearful goodbyes, we were especially tearful after we got
the hotel bill. Streepy managed to get the desk clerk to waive most of
the adult movie channel charges by lying about not understanding what he
was doing when he programmed the room TV to dial-a-pom. This saves us almost
$300.00.
Spuds decided to lead us on a different route home, taldng us through
Kansas and some other big square states. Elwood chose to maximize the aerodynamics
of the Acclaim by running the air conditioning, and proclaiming that he
was getting 35 mpg this way at every gas stop. Spuds and Streepy began
plotting to murder him. We stopped for lunch at an Arby's, whose claim
to fame was that it is located near the site of Knute Rockne's death. Elwood
remarked that he didn't realize Rockne had died of food poisoning. Streepy
has actually sweat through a pair of blue jeans (at least we hoped it was
sweat). His jeans smell like beer.They remain shrunk.
We made it all the way to Des Moines, arriving just ahead of the tornado
warnings, and checked into a Super 8. For the first time on this trip,
we stayed in a room with a properly functioning air conditioner. We had
dinner at a pizza joint on the outskirts of Des Moines, easily the best
meal since our first night on the road. Elwood was disappointed that BF
Margaritas weren't on the menu.
Monday, July 14
We arrived at the House of Streepy around noon. The only detour/major
traffic delay of the whole trip took place within 5 miles of Streepy's
house. 2500 miles (more or less) of mostly good times. Spud's TR6 ran great,
handled fantastic, and Elwood's A/C worked flawlessly. We're looking forward
to Winona. Elwood hopes they have BF Margaritas there. Did we mention that
Sparkling Spring Water was the Official Bottled Water of the Trip to Sweatfest?
This recap written by Bob "Hops" Streepy, Jack "Spuds"
Billimack, and Irv "Elwood Manteno" Korey
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1997 Transmission Rebuild Clinic
April 12, 1997
First - impressions of my first ISOA meeting at the Pizza Roundup Saloon
in Hillside: VERY friendly men and women, trying to find a way to relate
to me ("What're you driving?", "Who do you know?" ["George
brought you here - oh geez..."], "Where you from?", etc.
etc.), a bit of Triumph info, lots of laughs, good food and very cold beer,
lots of laughs, and a slide show at the end with lots more laughs. Next
event: transmission rebuild clinic at the Pyle's.
All right - the Pyle's live about ten minutes from me, so this is a
natural. Leave Elmhurst about 8:00 am, telling the wife I'll be home about
noonish. (After all, I'm not bringing any transmission to rebuild.) Sweet
rolls and coffee in the Pyle kitchen plus pleasant conversation with Sheri
(aka Big Mama), Billy, Jack (aka Spuds), Ann (aka Hammer) and Tim. This
IS a friendly bunch.
Next, to the garage. I knew the inside of the garage must hold something
special because parked OUTSIDE was the Pyle's immaculate `49 2000 Saloon.
Inside the garage did not disappoint. At the back were two TR's one stacked
atop the other - something I'd never seen before! (Later in the year I'd
find this setup to pale compared to Bob E's two double decker and Jake's
three double decker setups!) Billy seemed to have every tool imaginable
plus a compressor and cutting tools.
There were tables and benches for working, and as I walked in, Tim and
Joe were already deep into Joe's Stag trans. They were very calm and methodical
- Tim with extra hands and technical advice, Joe fairly dripping with assembly
lube. These two looked like surgeons.
Pretty soon Dave (aka Snake) and son Conor arrived, and claimed a corner
to put new seals in his 6 diff. Being a father of two boys myself, it was
especially fun to watch them - the future of our passion seems secure indeed.
Pretty soon Jack and Ken (?) started creating a Frankenstein with Jack's
6 trans. Seems like they had parts from at least three other units. Jeff
(aka Stalker) ("Let me get my hand in there so the cluster gear stays
together.") looked closely on as he seemed to have a vested interest
in this project. ("No way you're gonna get me to pay $200 for that
piece of junk, Jack.")
At about this time Bob (aka Hops/Grappler) arrived - handing out beers
and lending a hand wherever. About this same time Mike M. appeared, lending
his warmly analytic expertise wherever needed. Soon the first TR trans
was stripped down without too much difficulty. That stubborn piece (ring?
clip?) at one end was finally removed by judicious placement of a steel
plate and precisely (?) located sledge hammer blows. Guess the guys in
this club are pretty trusting - I was the guy on the sledge.This first
group effort went without a hitch. Result - a smoothly turning unit, stuffed
with new synchros, new bearings and ready to go! The next two or three
also went smoothly - the time dropping successively for each one. Expression
of the day: "Pass that flame wrench over here!"
Concurrent to this humming activity, Sheri and Ann set out the barbecue
fixings which were quite excellent, followed by superb brownies. Paul snuck
in amidst all this activity and the overdrive rebuilds could begin. Overdrive
question? Paul's got the answer. Seems like most OD problems were remedied
by removing and cleaning the filter screen and then degunking the works.
Pat from Indiana cruised in - home machined release bearing fork in hand.
With this baby, the fork and bearing might last a good while, and that
taper pin might actually stay in one piece! With noon around the corner,
I checked in with the (very understanding) wife, and bought a few more
hours. Just being a part of the first few rebuilds made me feel like one
of the guys - the cameraderie was freely and genuinely shared.
Pretty soon heavy hitters Bob K. (aka Redbeard/Was-Beard/Thundercheese)
plus Sharon,and Bob E. (hot off the mail route) slid in and went to work
on Bob K's trans. I'll say there was plenty of expertise and acumen before
they arrived, but they kicked it up to a higher level still. As they stripped
the trans down, they discovered that a ring (?) covering a tiny oil splasher
was the culprit - remedied by a tiny rotation of the ring. PRESTO! Their
recognition and solution would have taken a novice like me half a lifetime
to figure out - I mean these guys level of expertise was waaay out there.
The best experience of the day had to do with this English fellow (chap?)
who was in Chicago on business, and came with a friend. (Our net site hipped
him to the clinic.) He was very quiet and observent all day. A group of
us had tried to figure out what was wrong with Keith (aka Gastro Boy's)
3 trans. Three teardowns/rebuilds and still no go. This British dude peers
over and says: "I think that shim might be a bit off center."
One teardown later, a centering of the shim, and WALAH!! That baby was
smooth as silk. By this time it was 4:00 and I checked my wallet to see
if I had enough to take the wife out for Chinese.
All in all, for a first event, I ....well....I....HAD A BLAST!!! It
was just more and more fun as the day went on. Incredible expertise, wonderfully
quick acceptance and cameraderie, an absolute absence of pretentious b.s.
(though there was no shortage of good natured b.s.). Man, this is the club
for me!
Mike Blonder
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1997 Big Bash
January 25, 1997
It was a dark and stormy night. Okay, it wasn't stormy, but it was dark.
And cold. Real cold. Just about the usual temperature when we hold our
Big Bash. As the spousal unit and I approached the new venue for our annual
dinner foolishness, we notice two things: A number of Cadillacs, and a
like number of women wearing fur coats accompanied by men in suits. Yep,
we're going to fit right in with this group: the Des Plaines Elks.
Nice building. So nice, in fact that some of our members circled the
building looking for an alternate service entrance. Perhaps it was the
doorman that scared them away.
"May I help you?" he asked. "We're with the car club",
answered Mrs. Jake, showing no fear. His eyes narrowed as he began to consider
the fact that we might be interlopers, barbarians trying to storm the bastians.
"The Triumph Club?" she ventured. Now he was certain! INFIDELS!
CAVE DWELLING TROGLODYTES! He seemed ready to sound the alarm.
"ISOA?" I tried.
Open sesame. "Ah," he said, "Down the stairs, all the
way to the left", as he let down the drawbridge. "And don't steal
any of the ashtrays", he yelled as we started down the stairs. (OK,
I made that last part up.)
When we got to the assigned room, we discovered others who known the
airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow. (European or African?) 1
The Elks eat better than the cowboys back at the Cadillac Ranch. And
they believe in paying their heating bills. Eventually, about 40 people
made it to our little enclave and enjoyed great appetizers, a bar, slides,
a great meal, a Triumph word search puzzle, the usual "name the person
in the picture" game, plus a new "name the Club member in the
picture from the old family album" game. (Which was a crowd favorite
and sure to return next year.)
A few of the highlights for those who didn't attend this august event
(even though it was held in January)
Bill Pyle and his faithful sidekick, Mr. Whoopee cushion. (I tried
to get him to go upstairs and impress our new hosts, but he declined.)
The sitting Kazoo band that played "Hail to the Chief" each
time our esteemed President stood up
Jack and Barb Billimack dressed as their cars, including a cast on
Barb's leg to denote a broken frame.
A Miata pinata bash.
Ann "Hammer" Buja won the ISOA Cup award. (She kept track
of the points. John Ludvik won a similar award when he was secretary and
keeping track of the points.) Seriously, though, she did win it fair and
square. (And deserved to.)
Jeff "Stalker" Rust won an almost as prestigious award, the
Super Boomer, for various activities throughout 1996.
And best of all, a good time was had by all.
Jake Manteno
1. Monty Python and the Holy Grail
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