If you've been smelling smoke lately, it might just be little ol' me firing up the barbecue pits and warming up for the upcoming State Barbecue Champeenship in Clovis, this September.

Working two jobs (by choice, not necessity), rehearsing for my singing performances on the Kern County Fair's main mall stage, and fulfilling my new life as a track star running 5K and cross country races, has taken me out of the loop these days, so I regret letting this blog go neglected of late.  But that's about to change.

I'm going to muscle in some time from my hellaciously busy life to share this year's barbecue adventures.  We're hitting the barbecue circuit, competing in KCBS sanctioned championships alongside the great masters seen on TV.

If you frequently watch Food Network, you may have seen these contests -- fields dotted with canopies, RVs and smokers, each contributing to the layer of appetite-teasing haze forming over the grounds.  One of the granddaddies of barbecue championships is the Jack Daniels Invitational, affectionately known by barbecue competitors as The Jack.  To be invited to the Jack, you must win a state championship or other major contest.  The upcoming Clovis competition is a state championship.

I kid you not; entering a sanctioned barbecue championship is no small undertaking.  It's not a matter of bringing a Wal-Mart flat grill and a bag of Kingsford for an afternoon cookout.

It's a task of bringing several smokers and grills, well over a hundred dollars' worth of meat, another hundred pounds or more of charcoal and wood, and a hundred pounds more of other equipment and supplies.  It's camping out and cat-napping through the night, tending to meats that can take upwards of 15 hours to cook -- and finishing right on time, turning your perfectly presented product in to the judges not more than five minutes early or late.

And paying a none-too-small entry fee, sometimes $300 or even more, per contest.

In other words, you gotta love it.

And love it, people do.  As the above picture of ClovisFest's 2006 competition shows, these can be major events.

Contests do come in different sizes and leagues, so to speak.  There are "backyard divisions" that typically consist of chicken and ribs, while leaving out the most time-consuming meats such as brisket, pork shoulder, or whole hog.  Backyard competitions are judged less stringently and are where many new cooks begin to compete.

But we are entering the major league.  There is no whole hog contest (almost always optional) at Clovis this year, but the other KCBS meat categories -- chicken, ribs, pork shoulder and brisket -- are standard.  Appearance and presentation are judged along with taste and tenderness, and the results from six judges are combined to yield your overall score.

The scrumptiousness of your food isn't the only thing that you have to master to a "T" to win at big league barbecue.  The other "T" is Timing -- your food has to be finished cooking and prepared in a presentation box within five minutes of a scheduled turn-in time.  That means that you need to know, and be able to skillfully adjust, the cooking times of each meat as well.  Finish too early, and you are not allowed to turn it in yet.  Turn it in a second too late, and your entry is disqualified.

So, what draws people to such large undertakings under such demanding condtions at such considerable expense?

Some are in it for the prize money, which can be substantial.  Some own barbecue-related food businesses and use awards as advertising points.  Most all just love to cook, and perfect the arts and secrets of out-of-this-world barbecue.

The biggest perk, though, may be the community of it all.  Barbecue competitors tend to be fantastic people, folks who love each other and love any opportunity to bring smiles to faces and happiness to hearts.

The rivalries between top teams can run deep.  But the friendships and togetherness always run deeper.