I'm sure that many of you went sand dune racing in company trucks at one time or another. well, here's my version of why desert seduction doesn't always work..

Late one night in 1967, I was involved with a young (Now geezer) lady and thought that I would impress her with my fantastic ability to run the dunes, so off we went to the beach and into the dunes. Well, on top of the ridge we were doing just fine. The stars were crystal clear and the mood was fantastic for love.

From atop this one dune we could see the flares and light of Dhahran, so we stopped. Being a sophisticated seducer I had brought along the necessary supplies...bottle of brown, blanket and summer love.

Well we sat there for about an hour, walked to the water and went skinny dipping, I remember how she was all lit up in the water with phosphorus luminescence and this just made her more beautiful. The brown certainly wasn't hurting either at this point

So back to the truck and I'll be dammed it the thing wasn't sunk to the bottom frame in sand....Seems as if you can drive at speed over the sand, BUT you never stop to smell the roses, or in my case Kiss a camel.

Aramco had the foresight to havea piece of plywood in the back and for over four hours I dug and worked and sweated and believe insulted every living, dead and past desert creature. She, of course, seemed to have lost the mood..never did figure that out...

So after hours of work, I got the damm thing on the boards and we got in and I told her.."I'm smarter than this dammed desert, I'm going to get a running start and we will be out of here". I think that due to a mixture of sweat, sand, and temper her response is best lost to history.

So after gunning the engine I shifted and took off like a rocket, straight down the dune and into about six feet of water. This of course made her night and she was soon stomping merrily on her way home, while I was considering suicide, after all, the truck had been borrowed, and having always been the brassy devil I thought I was, it was Mr. Crampton's personal company truck. He was the Dhahran District Manager. (As an aside and not that she was involved, Barbara Crampton is a classmate.) For you youngsters, that made him the mayor of Dhahran. The end result was that for the remaining time I was there for that summer, I had to report to his office at least three times a week for " light duty assignments" -- anything that he could think of...Thank God there weren't that many pets in Arabia then or I know what I would have been doing with a spoon....

I do drive better now...

Mike, stuck Camel and no Camelette

From: Mike Crocker

Date: Mon, 03 Jun 1996 10:21:48 -0500