TROUNCING THE TEXANS -- THE TOMATO WARS by Pam North There is a wryly humorous saying that a Coloradoan's worst nightmare is a Texan in a U-Haul crossing our state line. Pair that attitude with a truckload of overripe tomatoes, and you have the Colorado-Texas Tomato Wars. A popular institution for several years in the 1980s, the concept was the brainchild of Taylor Adams, a resident of Colorado's Twin Lakes area. Perhaps the background of the petite, Harvard-educated former clinical psychologist influenced her to capitalize on the touch of resentment felt by many Coloradoans toward the large invading influx of tourists and emigrants from the neighboring state of Texas. Adams' event was created more in the spirit of fun than retribution, and ironically became a minor tourist attraction in itself when as many as several hundred participants engaged in the good-natured rivalry of the Tomato Wars. The yearly battles, beginning in 1982, were staged on a mid-September weekend, off-season for area resorts. Ammunition was a large supply of tomatoes (as much as five tons, divided into 265 cases), conditioned by allowing the tomatoes to freeze and thaw for several nights, which caused a marked softening effect. Armies, each consisting of a captain, nine soldiers and an M.P., were formed, and after putting up a hefty entrance fee were ready for battle. The rules were simple: soldiers hit above the waist were considered "dead," and had to retire to the sidelines (or the bar) as spectators. The main war between the Coloradoans and the Texans took place on Saturday. A bugle sounded at noon to begin the battle, and fighting took place in earnest for the next two or three hours. The hillsides became littered with the shreds of tomatoes, and the combat troops were covered in juice. On Sunday a final skirmish was held to determine the overall winner from all of the previous day's surviving contestants. The Colorado war cry was, "Keep Colorado beautiful - put a Texan on a bus!" The local meandering Lake Creek was temporarily renamed the Rio Grande, and it became the dividing line between the two opposing forces. Prizes were awarded to the winners of the war, with additional miscellaneous awards for distinctions such as the most imaginative flag (one showed an eagle dropping tomato bombs on an armadillo)," the most inventive battle strategy, the funniest Colorado-Texas joke, the best costume, or the girl with the best "tomatoes." The Texans were always badly outnumbered (by as much as ten to one), so any willing non-Texans were usually pressed into service by temporarily changing their allegiance. Even this tactic failed to even the balance, so the Texans often had to employ elaborate strategies to survive. They built forts of plastic garbage bags and straw bales (dubbing the refuges as the "Tomalamo"). A Texan once arrived by helicopter, and a Coloradoan dropped in by parachute. One year the Texans moved into battle with a cardboard tank complete with a cannon that squirted tomato juice. The devious Texans also employed a plan that had a pretty Texas girl begin to undress in view of the Colorado warriors. When the Colorado males advanced for a closer look, they were ambushed in a barrage of tomatoes, and a half-dozen "casualties" resulted before the Coloradoans could retreat. Sadly, these rip-roaring battles have become a thing of the past; none have been fought for many years. With the demise of the Tomato Wars went the chance for retribution to those dastardly Texan invaders, but at least Coloradoans can find comfort that the majority of them return to Colorado only on a seasonal basis. With the exception of skiers most Texans seem to fear snow more than tomatoes.