ASSATEAGUE, Md. - What would you do for a crab cake? Sometimes I think that we're just too food oriented. Read on and you'll understand why.

Jim and I have just completed a two week vacation stay at Assateague State Campground, part of the National Seashore. Our annual pilgrimage takes us off the coast of Maryland. It's a barrier reef where wild Chincoteague-like ponies inhabit the island, actually they let us stay there.

They are wild and beautiful horses and part of the joy for us as we relax daily on the beach while basking in the sun, surf fishing and of course taking way too many pictures of the horses on the beach.

We have a 32-foot Winnebago RV with an 80 gallon gas tank. Needless to say, this year our Tax Incentive Rebate check went to fuel the trip. Roughing it, microwave, air conditioning, refrigerator, toilet and shower in tow, this year for the first time we bought a used tow dolly so that we could carry our Toyota Yaris a.k.a. the "Clown Car."

The theory was that since gas was then at a stabbing $4.25 per gallon we would actually save money in the long run by using the smaller vehicle to run around town. We tracked the mileage on the trip south achieving a whopping 5.7 miles to the gallon - this is not a typo - and partly due to the brake caliper that stuck and ground down the router.

It smelled like burning brakes, and Jim was having to pump them gently before each stop whilst reassuring me that it was fine. He would fix it when we arrived, a mechanical task that he can easily do. "Are you sure?" I inquired, about 12 times.

We landed safely despite that and he fixed the brake after a couple of days. Fortunately we had the clown car to use. All in all it had been a wise decision to tow the car. The days lingered, blueberry pancakes for breakfast, leisurely strolls on the beach collecting shells and sitting to read books, a lost love of mine.

As all things must come to an end, the days dwindled and the reservation was completed. Sadly we began to pack up our belongings, a chore that was made slightly easier by the forecast of an impending dangerous thunderstorm watch over the area. State officials drove from campground loop to loop announcing it on a loud speaker and motivating us to hustle along that Sunday morning.

There's something about hitting the road. You must get mentally psyched-up for a trip of 10 or 11 hours and adjust to life on the road. Little did I know then how difficult it would get. Jim offered his "last stop" announcement. "Anything you want before we leave?" I thought for a minute then suggested, "How about stopping to get crab cakes to take home?"

In Ocean City, Md. on Route 50 there is a small business called "Maryland Crabs To Go" located next-door to a gas station. We've been there every year for the last seven years. They offer ready things like crab cake sandwiches and fried oysters, but we usually buy crab cakes, uncooked with chunks of lump crab meat, to take home and have just one more taste of Maryland cuisine at a later time.

For some reason I couldn't decide if I wanted them badly enough to stop so on a last minute whim we decided to pull over and get them. There was an issue finding a safe place to park. Jim wanted to stop on the roadside, all 48 feet of us. Not feeling safe to do it that way I suggested that he pull down the backside of the crab cake store which was a two-lane road. I fully expected him to pull up on the grass near this less traveled road and suddenly he made a right turn into the rear driveway of the gas station.

Next we heard a screeching noise and our forward movement stopped abruptly, though Jim was still accelerating. We were wedged with our back end hanging into the street and blocking one lane of travel. Literally our tow ball on the hitch and rear bumper were on the road.

He tried going forward and then backward, rocking it and hoping, but to no avail. The look of shear panic on his face was memorable, while I had not yet digested the magnitude of the problem!

Once outside of the motor home it became crystal clear that we were in trouble. There was the danger of being hit by another vehicle, the danger of having just punctured the gas tank, a propane tank at the gas station rested only about 30 feet away and another nasty southern black sky off in the distance was screaming "run for your life."

My husband looked stressed and all I could say was, "Sorry I wanted crab cakes."

"It's not your fault," he assured me.

Feeling like only a Hanson could get into this sort of mess from something so innocent, we pulled an "Emeril," that is we kicked it up a notch. The adrenaline began to flow and Jim was unstoppable.

Off came his baby yellow dress shirt, on went the old black T-shirt. Out came the 50-ton jack and on went the determination of a bull. He raised up the back end with the jack and tried to move the motor home. It was a no go, as one wheel spun and spun barely touching the road yet somehow managing to spit rubber and create a black plume of smoke.

If I were the easily embarrassed type this would have been one of those moments. More importantly I had a job to do and that was to support my husband who could tell from the look on my face I was about to say the wrong thing. "Just call a tow truck," I uttered. "Do you realize how much they will charge us," he implored? I didn't care at that point I was more concerned for his safety, getting hit by a car and lying underneath an oversized vehicle.

"Just give me one more chance," he insisted, and he seemed to have a plan. Over to the side where the tire was spinning he went with his amazing orange jack. He lifted it just enough to raise the tow ball from the three inch groove we had now left in the tar of the two lane road which we were blocking.

Next was like an old time movie. Jim unhooked the two bikes and I parked them against a guard rail. He unstrapped the clown car from the tow dolly, backed it off and parked that on the roadside. Next he unhooked the tow dolly from the motor home having to bang the pin out with a hammer. He pulled the dolly like a mule pulls a plow.

My job was to use his baby yellow shirt to draw attention to the oncoming traffic. People slowed to look and I'm sure they snickered as they headed off with their Sunday plans.

The next few minutes were stressful. It was about 90 degrees out, Jim was bleeding on both elbows, road rash from using the jack in such a frantic way. Finally he was ready to try our escape. He lowered the motor home onto that resting place of rocks. "I have only one shot at this," he said to me. I stepped back, fearful that the rocks beneath the tire might give way.

Jim climbed up into the driver's seat, started the engine and gave her one hard reverse acceleration, while I directed traffic. It worked. She jerked back just enough to get the bumper off the pavement and we were able to reverse this fiasco.

Next was the instant replay of the old time movie, bikes on the rack, dolly on the motor home, car back up the ramps and strapping everything securely. All the while that nasty storm was coming closer spidering lightening across the sky. It was at this point that a biker coming from the gas station came over and asked if he could help us. "There is one kind person in the world," I thought to myself and he's a biker, cool!

As Jim finished his work he requested a drink of water. I obliged and threw in a face cloth, clean water and soap for him to wash his bloody elbows and greasy arms. He stood outside the vehicle and the relief found its way to us in the form of a giggle. We could not believe what we had just gone through. All we could say was "We were so lucky!"

We had our crab cakes, our home away from home was salvaged without much damage. Just then the skies opened up with windswept giant raindrops and large hail pelting us as we made off for the long ride home.

Squash Strudel

Ingredients:

5 cups coarsely shredded zucchini (1 1/2 lbs.)

5 cups coarsely shredded yellow summer squash (1 1/2 lbs.)

1/2 tsp. salt

8 beaten eggs

2 Tbsp. snipped fresh parsley

2 cloves minced garlic

1 Tbsp. finely chopped onion

1 Tbsp. fresh dill (or 1/4 tsp. dried dill weed)

1/4 tsp. pepper

8 oz. feta cheese, crumbled

5 sheets frozen phyllo dough, thawed

1/4 cup margarine or butter, melted

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350¬°.

2. In a large mixing bowl combine shredded zucchini, summer squash and salt. Let stand 15 minutes. Place mixture in a colander to drain.

3. In same bowl combine the beaten eggs, parsley, garlic, onion, dill and pepper. Next stir in squash mixture and feta cheese.

4. Spoon mixture evenly into an ungreased 13x9x2" baking pan.

5. Cut phyllo dough sheets in half crosswise. Lightly brush a sheet of phyllo with some of the melted butter. Place phyllo sheet on squash mixture. Top with another sheet of the phyllo dough, brush with more butter. Add remaining phyllo dough, brushing each sheet with butter.

6. With a sharp knife score through the phyllo making 16 squares. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. To prevent over browning, cover strudel with aluminum foil for the last 10 minutes of baking. Let dish stand for 10 minutes before serving. Makes 16 servings, side-dish or appetizer.

Note: This is a quiche-like recipe and great to use up the extra summer squash and zucchini from the garden. I've had it for years and decided to try it this week. It was very easy to make and delicious as a side dish or cut into smaller bites for an appetizer. Enjoy!