Day 1, from Andrew
Since I lost the coin toss the day before, it was my duty to drive Eric down the course for his late-day driver change at the Chapala road-crossing. Our fuel truck with Bob and Wayne in it were headed the same way early Race Day 1 to dump 5 gallons at the same spot. They had some errands to do, so they headed out earlier. Eric and I were on the road in the chase '80 Toyota 4x4 by 630 as we wanted to be off the course by the time the first racers caught up to us. Easy enough…right?
I was actually a little relieved to have some duty to do to keep my mind off of the start and the fact that we were actually going to put our little Bronco, our friends, and ourselves in potential harm's way. I know that's part of the deal, and I'm fine with it, but it's waaaay better if I've got something to do other than stand around – so this was fine with me to be hauling off down the highway.
Rolling into San Felipe, we found gas station number 2 on the right, which was recommended to us for unknown reasons. Eric was sure this was wrong as the snack selection restrooms and general condition and size of the gas stop wasn't up to par with all the rest. I too, was wondering what gave….but.., while fueling, up rolls a familiar face in a new black Raptor. We were both trying to figure out who each other was , but finally I figured out he was Billy Robertson and he was getting the fuel for our Bronco to be dumped at the Checkers Pit where we were also supposed to pop by. We followed him in, making one detour and unloaded the fuel. Got the Checkers tour of the pit, Checkers general advice, Checkers group photos, and Checkers send-off. Things felt good here, and I was happy that the Bronco would be cruising through this well-helped area, should Todd and Nick need any(and you know they did!!)
I was still a bit hurried and nervous though, as two years ago travelling the road south out of San Felipe, we were slow going through here and couldn't stay ahead of the Racers. I really wanted us to be in the right place at the right time as that is the goal in Baja. Any other combo is usually no good there. The Toyota made quick work of the terrain and we rolled into Rancho Grande just in time to meet Bob and Wayne and the fuel finishing some lunch. We chatted for a few and almost caravanned out through CoCo's. Right about then, we got passed by the first bike…..and then by Walker (who came inches from our door as he passed, then Robby's Pink/Orange thing, and another bike. Finally we were out onto the straight and I was sick of being passed by racers so I buried the pedal in the Toy and we only got passed one or two more times.
Out on the shoulder after the checkpoint several teams had set up. Bob and Wayne got the cones out and the banner and we were ready for the bronco to roll through. And then there was the waiting. Many cars came through and slowly the crowd waiting to pit their cars/bikes disappeared. It started to get dark, and finally the little Bronco appeared at the crossing and pulled in.
Eager as we were to hear stories of the race, Nick and Todd looked beat and the Bronco was ready for fuel. Todd showed me the damage from the side roll, which I totally missed standing right in front of it and told of the fuel pump woes. Bob and Wayne fueled and Eric got in. Then…the Bronco wouldn't start. After trying to jump start it, we pulled out the spare battery and were up and running. Of course changing the battery means pulling the passenger seat out. That's another thing on the list to fix!
Nick hopped in the Toyota with me and proceeded to eat and drink everything we had in the cab. I was lucky to still have a dashpad by the time we got to Bahia de Los Angeles, where, surprise, Nick wanted to be dropped off at the nearest taco stand. After fueling the Bronco and Toyota, we all came back to the taco stand and I left on a wild goose chase to try and find our motel, which was a major fiasco which involved me arguing with a desk clerk at the wrong hotel and demanding a room there, driving angry into town, getting mad at Norra officials, getting the right hotel name and location, and finding out we had one room with 3 beds for 8 people. Cozy.
That marked the first time I “Became Robby” during this trip. I've watched Dust to Glory enough times (as well as '67 1000 and '68 1000) and have been known to quote it from time to time when appropriate(I can also sing the song from the 67 1000 movie, but I have to have a few drinks…hey..did I sing this at the awards dinner?). A few times on this trip I started to sound like Robby Gordon during the movie when they are dumping pump gas into his Trophy Truck and he just can't stand it and starts yelling and speeds off. Not overly proud of that, but I guess when you are tired and frustrated in Baja it can happen. From then on, Eric and I joked that I was “starting to become Robby” and needed to cool down.
Last thing about this day was we were all tired from the day, been through hell from the hotel confusion and pretty much all had hit the wall and went in to bed. The truck had some superficial body damage, but also the hood was falling off, the trackbar loose at the axle (causing vague steering which was likely a contributor to the side flop), and had other questionable items like charging at 17V and fuel pump circuit problems. I was anxious enough about getting in and driving the next day as it was, let alone in a truck with the above problems. So at midnight or later, who knows.. I was out there trying to at least get the steering right before going to bed. Terry came out and helped me fix the axle/track bar issue and I packed up and crawled back in to the room to go to sleep, only to get 4 hours of rest before my first full day behind the wheel of the Bronco.
