My little hometown of Wellsville, Mo., has been gradually shrinking for many years, so it was a surprise for me Saturday to see the downtown two blocks of town with all the parking spaces filled.

Then I remembered that it was the 4th Annual Wellsville BBQ Cookoff, a sanctioned event of the Kansas City Barbeque Society. For a couple of days, Wellsville was the Barbeque Capitol of northwest Montgomery County.

That's one of their slogans, and if you know the area, home to maybe 1,500 people, it is pretty funny. The contest started with just a few local teams but has grown to 45 teams from all over the Midwest.

Most of the contestants were packed into a one-block square area downtown. Smokin' Wally's BBQ was there, but I missed them, just like I missed the Let's Kick Some Ash people.

But I did stop off at the 4 Smokin' Butts trailer from Millstadt where Dennis Keck and his wife, Cindy, were busy cooking for the competition.

They were more surprised to see me than I was to see them. After all, they go to barbecue competitions somewhere almost every weekend.

They had no idea Wellsville was my hometown (30 miles north of Hermann, Mo., I always tell everyone). But I was more impressed with the contest when I found them there. They have won many grand championships.

In turn, they were impressed with the contest.

"Everyone is really friendly here," Dennis said. "They have a lot of the top teams. They've really taken care of us. Whoever put this together, it's a nice setup."

I got to spend a couple of hours with the Kecks and see some of the little tricks of the trade in the competitive barbecue world. I'll admit I haven't always been a big fan of barbecue, but their chicken thighs were to die for. They finished fourth in chicken, their highest place in this competition.

Cindy said people wonder why they do this every weekend, and she said it's because it has become a fascinating hobby and a lot of fun.

"The camaraderie is great," she said, as people wandered by, dropping off samples of their own cooking and taking samples of the Kecks'.

Each category of meat has a deadline. You have from five minutes before and five minutes after the deadline to turn in your entry. The timing is strict, with those atomic clocks that keep exact time.

The meat is judged in blind taste tests, generally by some big ol' boys who sure looked like they enjoyed eating. There also were women, but no kids. Judges have to be at least 16.

Every sample of cooked meat is submitted in plastic foam boxes. Cindy lines theirs with parsley. Her intricate patterns can take up to an hour to prepare.

After all the cooking, judging and prize awarding, there was a car show and a dance and the weekend was over.

On Sunday, when we drove through, the town once again seemed deserted.