The First Lexington Lake Regatta, 1973 (part two of two)

And remember, all of the drivers who were traversing Highway 17 probably had the best seats in the house.  The authorities had to keep them moving.  It was a very, very big project. 

Except for Fawell, none of us had ever done anything remotely like this before.  Jim told all of our Los Gatos hosting people to meet at the boat ramp on the far side of the dam, away from ​Highway 17, for Friday lunch.  For the last time until Monday, we drove our vehicles on the mountain ​roads and gathered at the boat launch.  After that, only a very few vehicles would be allowed on the roads surrounding the lake. 

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It’s Friday lunch time and a couple of dozen of us are waiting on the far side boat launch.  Jim had gotten an electronic bull horn from the university, man, that place had everything.  He drives across the top of the dam in his bright orange Datsun station wagon and turns into the boat launch, all of us watching his crossing.  The long lanky dude mounts the fender of some big truck and he clicks on the bull horn; it screeches and screams.  One of the guys grabs it and shuts it off.  Adjustments are made on the bullhorn and Jim tries it again, 

“OK, ok, . . . can you hear me?” Farwell says, looking into the bell of the bullhorn, “Is this thing working now?”

We all nod that, yes, it is working Jim, get on with it.

“All right.  This is your pep talk.”  We all groaned and turned away.  “We’ve run through this enough times.  We know what we are doing.  Let’s just stick to the routines we’ve practiced.  Make sure the batteries on your radios stay charged and always carry the battery backup pack.  We can not, and I emphasize, CANNOT, lose touch with one another.   Before you take off, I have these sheets each of you should take with you.  They list all the rules of this event.  If anyone give you a hard time and wants to break the rules, you radio the network manager and call for the cops.  Don’t get involved with the rule breaker, but get the cops.  We can’t tolerate rule breakers.  This situation is just too restricted and hazardous to not stick to the rules.  In the end, it’s my butt on the line.”

“You know who should be one the roads and who shouldn’t be, so keep close tabs.  None of our boats will be allowed on the lake without my specific permission or Ed’s.”  My head rattled around.  What did I have to do with anything.  Jim continued.  “Consider me the General until Monday morning and Ed is my Colonel.  None of our boats go out into the lake without specific permission from me or Ed.  No one can allow any vehicles on the road except those on the list.  Only Ed or I can authorize exceptions.”

I’m looking around this group to find the other Ed who is the Colonel.  They are all looking at me.  I was at a total loss.  Farwell didn’t say a word about this to me beforehand.  I tried to look like I knew what was doing on.  But I had no idea and I was actually freaking out.  Farwell continued for a few more seconds. . . .

(Click here to read conclusion)