Images will be posted in chronological order, so they will display newest first, left-to-right on a computer and top-to-bottom on a cell phone. Click on an image and it will generate an image title and brief description. Some may actually contain a tale of adventure, humor, or woe, so clicking pictures will be like digging around in a bunch of Cracker Jack boxes in the hopes of getting one with a "good" prize, but being satisfied with the lick-and-stick temporary tattoos in the mean time.
As part of the registration process for the rally, each team is encouraged to come up with a name because studies have shown that you are more successful when you have a name for your team. Okay, I made up that last part, but what's a team without a name?Mike and I wanted a name that captured the spirit of who we were. "Team Siesta" and Team "trust me, we're going in the right direction" were among many that met the criteria but were rejected. We then decided on "Old School" because we are, and old's cool so... "Team Old School" it is.
~ Old School Goes to India ~
Monday 9 September:
Eat, Pray, Drive.
It thundered and monsooned all night and rained right up until our 8am pre-race rickshaw prep. Upon entering the grounds where our rides were parked we could see it would be an interesting beginning to the race.
We said thank you and goodbye to our rickshaw mentor and local driver Mr. Harris. He was the first to pull over and help two Americans whose rickshaw was broken down on the side of the road in Kochi. He gave us advice and guidance for our upcoming adventure, drove us around while our Bus was being repaired, and went out of his way to show up in the morning just to wish us luck and see us off. An absolute gem of a human being.
At about 9:15 am the race kicked off with a muddy scramble to the start line, through a throng of cheering and encouraging locals, and out onto the streets of Kochi and beyond.
Mike and I took our time to go check out of our hotel, stop at a gas station and put 8 liters into our gas can, and get in line to the ferry out of Fort Kochi. Finally, we were on the road to Jaisalmer.
Sunday 8 September:
It turned out that our stalling issue wasn't the fuel filter. We thought the gas cap wasn't properly venting to allow equalizing pressure, also known as "vapor lock", or that there were contaminants in the gas tank that were blocking fuel from flowing out when settled at the bottom. We lost valuable practice time scratching other people's heads, debating with mechanics, and finally having our rickshaw serviced to include purging the tank and replacing the gas cap. Tomorrow is race start and I'm woefully underprepared to drive a rickshaw across India. But at least the Cool Bus will run now. We think.
Command and Control: The high-tech cockpit of our rickshaw. Left handle is clutch and gears 1, neutral, 2,3, and (sometimes) 4. Box on left handle are turn indicator and headlight switches (that works after you fiddle with an auxiliary switch on the right control box). Right handle is throttle. Right control box is wiper on/off, afore-mentioned auxiliary light switch for after-market marker lights, and, most importantly, the horn. Center gauge is RPMs and Km/hour that displays data ambiguously. Visible on the right floor is the brake pedal and brake fluid reservoir. There are no doors but we paid a local vendor for custom rain covers with clear vinyl "windows" that can be removed in hot weather. A local rickshaw driver saw the Bus and estimated it was 24 years old, apparently the oldest in the Rickshaw Run inventory. Score!
Tonight was a mandatory safety briefing. Topics covered included what to do in a major incident, what constitutes a major incident, the fact that we are guaranteed to break down at some point, that we will be disqualified if we help each other by sharing information to assist with navigation, lodging, road conditions, or any information not related to injury-prevention. Also covered was road etiquette and Indian driving hierarchy. Accidents and breakdowns are our responsibility to handle, though a serious injury or damage resulting in inoperability need to be reported to the administrators. Teams can drive together in caravan-style and mutually support each other or travel solo, but otherwise we are on our own until we cross the finish line. We will not be allowed to cross the finish line until the designated day and hour. After the briefing we were cut loose to prepare for tomorrow's start at 9 am.
Saturday 7 September:
In the morning Mike handled our team sign-in and rickshaw assignment while I geared myself to recovery. By mid-day he and I were scooting along in our rickshaw getting used to its handling and driving in India driving conditions. One problem we had was constant stalling. The sparkplug checked out okay but it seemed our fuel line was blocked. Mike suspected debris in the tank or a faulty gas cap, but the mechanics begged to differ and replaced the fuel filter. We will have to wait to see how things suss out tomorrow.
Team Old School takes the Cool Bus everywhere. In consideration of its occupants, it is a very short bus.
After stalling a few times we pushed the Cool Bus to the roadside and opened the engine compartment. Within one minute we had a crew of passers-by with rickshaw experience who saw us and stopped to help out.
Friday 6 September:
We arrived in Kochi from Mumbai much later than anticipated. A delay to our flight led to a late arrival, and then we discovered after several attempts to find an Über that their drivers were on strike in Kochi. That led to a wait in a long line for a pre-pay taxi but we finally were able to make it to our hotel in the Fort Kochi area. We literally dropped our bags in our room and headed out to meet up with other rally-goers at a restaurant not too far away
We settled in and mingled. A true international group of masochists, most of whom had never done an event such as this and many having never visited India before.
Mike stuck with beer for the night but I was hungry from the travel and decided to dive into a plate of delicious garlic fish with red chili paste and lemon rice. It tasted great!
Later that evening on the walk back to the hotel I felt the fore-warnings of things to come. My plans for the evening changed from uninterrupted sleep to addressing the necessities of Delhi Belly.
