When the first P2P race was run in 1907, cars were still a novelty. It was cause for celebration when someone got one and cause for repeat celebration every time you went out in one and returned home unscathed. Since the P2P, we’ve driven tens of thousands of miles more. Avis supplied us with a spunky white Isuzu in Patagonia. A borrowed Mahindra Jeep I called Sexy Beast took us from the southern tip of India to the foothills of the Himalayas. Our own Land Rover Defender, whom I named Brunhilde, because she’s fair and full of fortitude, squired us around a thousand hairpin turns climbing up to Peru’s altiplano and from there down to Bolivia’s deserts. She stood by us when we drove from Djibouti into and throughout Ethiopia and back, skirting the Somali border along the way. Brunhilde never flinched when tasked with conveying us 9,000 miles from Istanbul through Iran, more former Soviet ’stans than my passport had visa space for, onward through China, Tibet, Nepal, and finally India. Through it all, we’ve recaptured that euphoria that people used to feel a hundred years ago when they got in a car. They’d close the door, if there was one, sit back, and know that adventure awaited them. Now we do the same. I don’t even get carsick.
The isolation within a car interior is a perfect foil for travel. It’s familiar and by its familiarity, it is comforting. Yet it’s that very familiarity that keeps everything that’s outside, the unfamiliar, in sharp relief. I see more clearly when I’m in a car and I have time to reflect on what’s around me before engaging in whatever it is that’s going on. By driving ourselves, Bernard and I have the freedom to go where we wish when we wish. In a car, the very process of transit—the getting there—makes everything that much more vivid.
You’d think that after all this driving, I’d be besotted with cars. I’m not. I’m as much a babe in the woods mechanically as when we first got Roxanne. On the first day of a long road trip, I still quarrel with myself about whether I can manage to sit in the passenger seat for six to eight hours a day. I bid clean hair, regular meals, and chic shoes a reluctant farewell. I’m still my toughest critic. I still preface simple sentences with “Sorry,” so if it turns out I’ve made a mistake, I’ve already apologized for it. I’ve had to accept how insufferably impatient I am, and how exquisitely exasperated I become when I can’t control a situation. Still, I marvel how being in a car could have taught me so much.
Take, for instance, one of the times when Bernard was tightening something or other under the car. It was hot, he was dripping, and I’m sure he would have preferred to be somewhere else, especially if that somewhere involved breezy shade and an ice cold beer. I know I would have, and I wasn’t even down in the gravel, copiously perspiring. I was standing by the tool box cursing the humid heat, wondering whether I couldn’t somehow start the car so I could sit in it with the air conditioning on full blast, without simultaneously asphyxiating Bernard. Bernard stuck with it, of course. He finished the job, because there’s no time like the present to take care of a bothersome rattle or worrying clang. After we continued that day’s drive, blessedly rattle-free, I was, naturally, grateful that Bernard had dealt with the problem. I knew, also, that if he hadn’t been able to fix it, he’d have stored the matter away to take care of at the next opportunity. Here’s how I summed it up: If you can fix something, do. Immediately. If you can’t fix something, accept it for the moment and move on. There’s nothing inherently wise about this as it pertains to car maintenance, but apply it to the next problem in your relationship with anyone, whether boss, lover, sibling, or parent, and you’ll see what a great notion it is.
There are still occasions when I enjoy a good sulk as much as the next baby. I’ve gotten better, though. During those long P2P days I’d tell myself: Reject dramatizing a situation. Emotion won’t improve things. Action will. I tried so hard to take this to heart on the P2P, with only middling success. I still struggle with the rationale that if sulking equals exhaustion, and exhaustion can only result from action, then sulking must be action, too.
Locking two prisoners in a five by five cell would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. I still don’t know what possessed me to voluntarily commit myself to join my husband in that size space. I do know that when we hit a rough patch, which on road trips can sometimes be daily, I need only think of the Russia/Estonia border or the one between Mongolia and China. Because borders exist to be crossed, boundaries respected. It helps me remember the distinction between seizing an opportunity to push beyond my natural limits and pushing myself so hard I become dysfunctional. Or between harping at Bernard to do something I want versus backing off because I’ve invaded Bernard’s space and letting him arrive at what I want in his own time. On the road, Bernard has adjusted to my fervent desire to go out and walk around the streets, any streets, as soon as we’ve reached our day’s destination. Now, though, I can wait until he’s had a shower, changed, and drunk a beer before we do so.
Momentum: have it and you’ll get through the rough spots. Lose it and you’re going nowhere. This came to me during a time trial, when we plowed slowly through deep sand, which had already trapped another car. Bernard looked at them and said, “Typical error. People think they have to speed up to get through sand. It’s the opposite. Go as slowly as you can while still moving forward. That way you won’t spin your wheels and carve ruts.” It came up again when Bernard and I were struggling to excavate ourselves from the morass we were stuck in following the P2P. Each tentative opener of conversation meant movement. The way forward was slow, and neither of us knew quite where that way was leading, but even baby steps were better than no steps at all.
I’m at ease with my follower position now. And I’ve decided it doesn’t matter whether you’re the follower or the leader. One is not inherently better than the other, and each needs the other simply to exist. In fact, it’s the ultimate symbiotic relationship. Think of it. Where would Genghis Khan have gotten if he hadn’t had an excellent horde behind him? Here’s a truth I now know: It takes a great follower to make an accomplished leader. I’m happiest that, when we search our atlas for a likely candidate for our next trip, and I suggest to Bernard that he might go with someone else, because that particular place scares me, he says, “But I don’t want to go with someone else. I want to go with you.” This despite the fact that I still confuse west with east and have trouble believing that the direction ahead of me cannot always be north. These are the limitations of a dashboard devotee. I’ve come to terms with them, as has Bernard. That’s why he’s installed a permanent GPS on his side of the dashboard, the screen tilted toward him so I can’t even see it.
Oh, one last thought, which is perhaps the most important of all. It’s seen me through many a dark moment on the road, become my guiding light at home, and I want to share it with you: When in doubt, get a pedicure. Things are always clearer when you have polish on your toenails..
Acknowledgments
Behind every writer is an avid reader. Or many. For company and insight on the reading journey, I am in debt to the women of my Colorado book clubs: the Never Summer Readers of Walden and the Magnolia Blossoms of Nederland. Every month you gave me a chance to play with words and refine what it is in books that captivates me. I hope I’ve managed to capture some of that in my own.
The marvelous Iowa Summer Writing Festival provided the forum for a much-needed writing tune-up. I am ever grateful to Lon Otto, my superb instructor at ISWF, for looking me in the eye and telling me just to get on with it. Thanks to his referral, the wonderful Michele Hodgson took my collection of anecdotes and helped me craft them into a real story.
For believing in me, keeping me laughing when times were tough, and finding a publisher for my work, I thank Ken Wright. Landing on Planet Wright was one of the luckiest days of my life. Michele Rubin stepped in and with extraordinary flair and passion took over the reins. I cannot imagine how I became so fortunate as to have such a kindred soul as my agent.
Marjorie Braman inspired me and left an indelible imprint on this book. Thanks for tips on where to bu
y the best French mustard, for insight on how to dress for the horse races, and for great taste in restaurants.
The impressively talented Lindsey Breuer, my editor at Skyhorse, brought this book to fruition, applying a discerning eye and an ineffable sense of the rightness of phrasing and teaching me lessons about poise under pressure. Thank you for your enthusiasm, your hard work, and most of all for going the extra mile on my behalf, even when that extra mile was actually ten.
My spirit is supported by the love of very special friends. For countless hours playing Scrabble and Bananagrams, joining me on horseback adventures, bike rides, hikes, and walks, patiently listening to my dreams, reading drafts of this book, and sharing priceless feedback, I thank Peg Brocker, Betsy Kates, Vivian Long, and Annie Sjoberg. Thank you to Donna Meitus for opening your home to me and showing me the joys of Zumba, planking, and pho lunches. I am deeply, humbly grateful to Janine Brownstone and Pat Heiber for ignoring my uncoolness and becoming life-long friends with whom I can still resume a conversation started so many years ago. To all of you: You lift me up; you make me smile; my life is immeasurably richer for your presence.
The readers of my travel newsletter shared my amazement and laughed along with me at the odd things I encountered on my road trips. At the risk of leaving out many, I extend heartfelt thanks to Heinz and Heidi Löber, the many-numbered Gateau family, Michael O’Malley, Laura Border, the late Carl Trick, Sr., Marie Thomas, Bob Tointon, Tessa Wardlaw, Marian Cramer Wood, BJ Holmes, Phil Teeter, Inga Schalburg, Rosalie Culver, Dani and Yvonne Bernstein, Cherie Long, Bob and Audrey Williams, and Bruce Blythe. Your feedback while I was on the road was like high-octane fuel, and your insistence that I put it into a book is the reason why this one exists.
I can never repay the boundless welcome and no-strings-attached love of Nina, Izzy, Kate, Chloe, and Skip. Special thanks to Magic, Bridger, Scout, and Beau, who took me over fields, through willows, and into the hills, never questioning where I wanted to go, knowing simply that I needed to get gone.
I clearly won the lottery in my sister Vivienne, who contributed in countless ways to this book. She is confidante and advisor, playmate and admirer, editorial coach and my biggest cheerleader. She laughs at my jokes, will forever be tall and blonde to my not so tall and brown, grounds me when I get carried away, then lets me fly. Given the extent to which I tormented her as a child, I am thrilled she is still willing to accept me as her sibling. I have only one sister and that’s all I need.
Everyone thanks their family in their acknowledgements. For me, the issue runs deeper, as this story would never have happened if not for my husband, Bernard. That he helped me step into his dream and let me make it mine was an act of the purest generosity and faith. Without you, my life would be a poorer thing.
Appendix 1
ROXANNE’S REBUILD
1940 LASALLE 52 COUPE
RALLY PREPARATION September 2005- March 2007
CHASSIS 4330056
Mileage when purchased: 29,651
Body and Interior
Provision for tow-bar attachment
Replace front seats with Sparco high-end rally seats
Install 3-point harness
Insulation on fire wall
New paint, correct to model year
Install electric windshield wipers
Install safe under copilot seat
Install new carpet, headliner, and door panels
Install special compartment behind seats to hold all spares
Electrical Instrumentation
Change from 6 volts to 12 volts
Replace dynamo with 50 Amp alternator
Install map lamp for copilot
Install accessories plugs for GPS and Tripmeter
Install wheel probe and universal cable probe for Tripmeter
Add instrument cluster with oil/water temp and tachometer
Replace all electrical wiring with waterproof wiring
Install two 925 Amp dry-cell batteries with metal jacket
Suspension, Chassis, and Tires
Replace king pins
Add telescopic shock absorbers front and rear
Install new set of leaf springs
Raise rear suspension 3 inches
Replace helical springs with heavy-duty ones
Change wheel bearings
Check chassis welds and redo as needed
Sand blast and powder coat chassis
Install aluminum, multisegment under-body protection
Replace wheels
Install radial tires
Brake System
Replace brake lines with stainless steel lines
Replace master cylinder
Replace all wheel cylinders
New brake linings
Arcing all brake shoes
Engine and Power Train
Overhaul engine, new pistons, valves, lifters
Install oil filter
Replace engine mounts
New radiator core
Manufacture 3-point radiator mounting system
Install more efficient air filtration system
Change ignition system for a solid-state one
Replace and reroute exhaust system
Change all oils to synthetic
Engine Dyno before installation: 107HP and 197lb-ft @ 3400RPM
Rebuild carburetor
Fuel System
Install 40-gallon stainless steel fuel tank
Install two Facet POSI-FLO fuel pumps with pre-filters
Run two separate, steel braided fuel lines
Install RACOR fuel filter with water separator
Appendix 2
PEKING TO PARIS MOTOR CHALLENGE 2007 ROUTE
DAILY DESTINATION KILOMETERS
Day 1
May 27 Sunday
Beijing to Datong 363
Day 2
May 28 Monday
Datong to Siziwang Qi 368
Day 3
May 29 Tuesday
Siziwang Qi to Erenhot 248
Day 4
May 30 Wednesday
Erenhot to Saynshand (+Border) 223
Day 5
May 31 Thursday
Saynshand to Ulaanbaatar 436
Day 6
Jun 1 Friday
Rest Day Ulaanbaatar REST DAY
Day 7
Jun 2 Saturday
Ulaanbaatar to Kharkorin 365
Day 8
Jun 3 Sunday
Kharkorin to Bayankhongor 428
Day 9
Jun 4 Monday
Bayankhongor to Altay 388
Day 10
Jun 5 Tuesday
Altay to Khovd 433
Day 11
Jun 6 Wednesday
Khovd to Border Camp 295
Day 12
Jun 7 Thursday
Border to Biysk (+Border) 635
Day 13
Jun 8 Friday
Biysk to Novosibirsk 437
Day 14
Jun 9 Saturday
Rest Day Novosibirsk REST DAY
Day 15
Jun 10 Sunday
Novosibirsk to Omsk 668
Day 16
Jun 11 Monday
Omsk to Tyumen 632
Day 17
Jun 12 Tuesday
Tyumen to Yekaterinburg 315
Day 18
Jun 13 Wednesday
Rest Day Yekaterinburg REST DAY
Day 19
Jun 14 Thursday
Yekaterinburg to Perm 379
Day 20
Jun 15 Friday
Perm to Kazan 688
Day 21
Jun 16 Saturday
Kazan to Niz. Novgorod 392
Day 22
Jun 17 Sunday
Niz. Novgorod to Moscow 439
Day 23
Jun 18 Monday
Rest Day Moscow REST DAY
Day 24
&n
bsp; Moscow to St. Petersburg 730
Day 25
Jun 20 Wednesday
Rest Day St. Petersburg REST DAY
Day 26
Jun 21 Thursday
St. Petersburg to Tallinn (+Border) 450
Day 27
Jun 22 Friday
Tallinn to Riga (+Border) 406
Day 28
Jun 23 Saturday
Riga to Vilnius (+Border) 394
Day 29
Jun 24 Sunday
Vilnius to Mikolajki (+Border) 403 GMT+3 (UK+2)
Day 30
Jun 25 Monday
Mikolajki to Gdansk 351
Day 31
Jun 26 Tuesday
Rest Day Gdansk REST DAY
Day 32
Jun 27 Wednesday
Gdansk to Potsdam (+Border) 598
Day 33
Jun 28 Thursday
Potsdam to Koblenz 556
Day 34
Jun 29 Friday
Koblenz to Reims (+Border) 461
Day 35
Jun 30 Saturday
Reims to Paris 161
Total kilometers 12642
Total Miles 7901
Appendix 3
PEKING TO PARIS COMPETITOR VEHICLES
Appendix 4
WHAT ROXANNE CARRIED WITH HER
INSIDE BAY
U-joints
Alternator Shocks x 4
Water pump
Exhaust pipe section
Spring compressor
Terratrip rally computer
Fire extinguisher
Rear cylinders x 2