One of the side benefits of attending the event is seeing the fine Petit-Jean mountain scenery. This is looking west from the north east corner of the mountain. A rain had come and gone leaving traces of mist on the Arkansas River.

A WWII ambulance, delivered to the Arny in April of 1944, a bit less than two months before the D-Day of the Normandy invasion. The chassis is the 3/4 military version of the venerable Dodge Power-Wagon.

Another view of the ambulance sandwiched between two restored WWII jeeps.

How it looked when you were tooling down the road in a WWII vitnage jeep.

The interior of a WWII jeep. In that day and time, the Army required to put an encyclopedia of information on the brass plates on the right hand side of the jeep dashboard. The standard joke was it had everything except the inventor's birthday.

A meticulosly restored 1944 military version Harley Davidson motorcycle.

The Army Harley from the left side

An enthusiast who came from Texas explains the finer points of a .30 cal, Browning air-cooled light machine gun. The gun is fully functional for automatic operation firing blank ammunition. The owner let meeting attendants fire the guin. He said that when he was a boy, he had a toy jeep with a machine gun and now he has the real thing.

Jeep yard skiing. The towed boy is sitting on a smooth bottomed mess hall platter. Just like water skiing, when the skier gets weary, he or she drops the rope. The kids loved it.

The first rain in more weeks than we care to remember happened the morning I attended. After the rain subsided, drivers cranked up their vehicles for a short convoy trip around Petit Jean Mountain. This is about the half-way point.

Had this been a real sniper round, yours truly would be in the great beyond. The crack was really made by errant gravel.

Convoy partipants take a short break at the edge of the mountain. On a clear day, you can see for miles, but on this day it was socked in.

More of the break.

Most GI's did not like to see this in their mirrors.

Making the final turn for home, the convoy trip is nearly complete.

My chaffeur, Hunter Douglas of Little Rock, a long-time friend and former brother-in-law. A fair-skinned man, who easily burns, he always wears the helmet when he is outside.

A WWII veteran briskly renders the hand-salute as his jeep rounds the clubhouse turn. His right foot is propped on the right front fender, the de rigueur position for passengers in this model of jeep, much to the disdain of military police and commanding officers.

When you are number four, the view rarely changes

Looking east from the east side of Petit Jean Mountain.