Our trip so far has been an absolute pleasure. After a whirlwind few days in Paris consisting of too much food and not enough sleep, we headed out to the French countryside. Slowly making our way down the Loire Valley in the direction of the Atlantic coast, we have been sampling the excellent cheeses, wines and chateau of the Loire, picnic-ing for lunch and treating ourselves to an excellent dinner in the evenings. We have met some very cool people along the way - the guys at Slide Performance in Orleans who helped us get some repairs done on the bug, the couple who run the Bed and Breakfast at Domaine Beaufort who shared some of their bubbly wine with us and who showed us their 1925 wooden-body Citroen car that, along with the farm and vineyard, had been in their family for 3 generations.
We are currently just outside of Angers where our friends have put us up in our very own chateau! OK, it's not really a chateau, but it certainly feels like one. It's actually an old farmhouse, parts of which date back 200 or 300 years (no one is quite sure - nor are they terribly interested in finding out because in the French scheme of things, 200-300 years is not very old) The farmhouse, which comes with it's very own name - La Fontaine du Mont - has been added to, remodeled and updated during it's history and now encompasses 1 rehearsal studio, 2 staircases, 2 living rooms, a dormitory for visiting bands, 2 offices for music producers and promoters and at least 20 other rooms. The main jewel of La Fontaine is the kitchen which is located in the oldest part of the house. It sports a stone floor, exposed beam ceiling (with enormous, smoke darkened timbers) modern appliances and a fireplace in the center of the room. It was here that, on our first night - seated on one side of the massive fireplace with our friend Chimene and her son, Goya - four-and-a-half year-old Aloise presented her spectale du danse from the other side of the rectangular fireplace, using the the frame as her "stage".
The strike, which continues with no end in sight, has made it difficult to find gasoline. It's a little disconcerting to drive past station after station and see that every one is closed...especially when you're down to 1/4 of a tank. No one here seems to be freaking out about it, so we're remaining calm as well. The gas station closure has led to a couple of funny goose-chases: We hear from someone that a station "just down the road" has gas, but invariably get lost trying to find it. If and/or when we find the station, they have run out of gas and we end up hanging out in the station parking lot, chatting with other drivers who had heard the same rumor and arrived to find that there was no gas. The strange thing is that no one is upset. Everyone seems to support, or at least understand the strike and everyone is sure that the government will figure things out very soon and that things will go back to normal. I'm sure things will go back to normal, but I am equally sure that it won't happen until after we leave the country.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
We made it!!
I'm a tad late in posting, but Robert and I made it to Paris! It was the most difficult undertaking of my life and I'm so glad I did it. I found new depths of fatigue and heights endurance. I'm quite sure this will change my outlook for a lifetime. My life will forever be divided into pre-rally years and post-rally years.
I was so happy to see Michelle, Dave, Jessica, and Natalie at the finish line. It was a whirlwind of pictures, congratulations, and introductions, but with no time to spare, we had to rush off to prepare for the big gala! I jumped out of my dirty rally clothes and into my tuxedo, Michelle slipped into her fancy dress, and we set off to the award ceremony. The rally peeps had put together a slide show and video to accompany the five-star meal.
Mostly in St. Germain dés Pres, we spent the next few days doing our best to empty the city of saucisson, fromage, and pain chocolat. Dave, who has visited and lived in Paris several times, played host in his adopted city. I met his friends, Val and Vincent, and I met Michelle's friends Kenji and Anaïs. We drank wine, sipped café, and explored the streets. As I relaxed and got used to living without a schedule, I started to feel the tug of the road again. I was oddly anxious to get back to driving and seeing more of the country.
Wednesday, Michelle and I packed up the car and set off for the Loire valley. The countryside is beautiful and I am having very little difficulty converting to vacation mode.
Today I wanted to do a bit of car work, mostly just to tighten up some oil leaks and make the car more comfortable. We found a great VW shop called Slide Performance in Orléans. These guys are a full-featured VW performance shop building engines, doing body work, suspension work; they do the whole works. The guys were extremely helpful and let me use a space behind the shop to work on the bug, also offering their tools and assistance. I changed 3 pushrod tubes, re-sealed the valve covers, replaced the air cleaner with a quieter street assembly, and patched 2 leaky tires. Thanks to David at www.slideperformance.com who provided invaluable assistance and had an uncanny, almost magical ability to come outside and see how we were doing just as I had a question or needed a special tool for a job.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Leaving for France in a Matter of Hours!
In just a few short hours, I'll be jumping on a plane and meeting Garrick in Paris. My co-wokers are all jealous. The Ladybird will have to hold it together for 3 more weeks after this cruel rally schedule so we can meander around France and England. My suitcase is packed (mostly with clothes for Garrick - a tux AND a suit! Sheesh!) and I'm so far behind on sleep I really shouldn't be allowed to drive to the airport... but you just try and stop me.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Day 31 - Through Instanbul
It was another day of happy miracles in Asia!
We left Abant Lake this morning for a 4 hour drive to Instanbul to meet the local VW Club. We were hopeful to find some help with our leaky and cranky engine. What we found was a whole VW car show! They had about 8 buses, 20 beetles, and 2 411's. We were greeted like rock stars! Everyone attending surrounded us, took pictures, asked about the rally, and gave me a t-shirt. Even if we didn't find help, I was glad we had stopped to see the local VW culture.
We met with some of the master VW mechanics. The first two weren't willing to work on Sunday, but the third said he would be happy to replace the rear main seal for 100 Euros. He didn't speak a lick of English, so lots of mime were involved with the negotiations. We followed him back to his garage. It was a simple working garage for engine assembly and body work. He didn't waste time and the engine was on the floor in about 30 minutes. With his ever-present cigarette, he gave us the bad news. The main bearings were shot and that if we continued, the crankshaft was sure to break. "Grank go boom! Kaput!" It would require a full engine rebuild. Lots of miming later, we learned that it could take up to 4 days and that another engine was not immediately available.
Not for lack of skill, but if he had a full machine shop on the premises, I might have considered letting him crack open the crankcase and hope he finishes in a day. But since he obviously didn't have a stack of new bearings on hand or the tooling required to grind them, I was pretty sure that we would just be left behind by the rally.
He protested in a very loud, but friendly way. Imagine a boisterious Turk babbling away incomprehensibly about, I believe, being stranded in the mountains of Greece with a broken "grank" because I didn't listen to the warnings of this loud Turk. Over one of our several rounds of Nescafe, I asked, pointing at the engine, "1000 keelo-meeter? 2000 keelo-meeter? When go boom? Parish?" He just laughed.
I actually really like this guy. He had a lot of personality. Jokes don't generally translate well, but we were laughing a lot. He is undoubtably the life of any party.
Anyways, back to the engine...
To his credit, he was able to tighten up the rear bearings which took out most of the end-play in the crankshaft. I'm very pleased to have a tighter engine. The new rear main seal was installed. I installed new spark plugs.
All parts, including the clutch, were throughly cleaned with fuel in an air sprayer (!!!). The air was full of atomized fuel. Even though he managed to not smoke for a few minutes, I still left the building during the cleaning procedure. I couldn't help but imagine the whole building blowing up.
With the engine back in the car, it started up right away and immediately sounded better. He adjusted the spark advance and the thing nearly purred. While we didn't get the engine "fixed", we did a significant improvement. I am very pleased with our encounter with the VW Club of Instanbul.
We left Abant Lake this morning for a 4 hour drive to Instanbul to meet the local VW Club. We were hopeful to find some help with our leaky and cranky engine. What we found was a whole VW car show! They had about 8 buses, 20 beetles, and 2 411's. We were greeted like rock stars! Everyone attending surrounded us, took pictures, asked about the rally, and gave me a t-shirt. Even if we didn't find help, I was glad we had stopped to see the local VW culture.
We met with some of the master VW mechanics. The first two weren't willing to work on Sunday, but the third said he would be happy to replace the rear main seal for 100 Euros. He didn't speak a lick of English, so lots of mime were involved with the negotiations. We followed him back to his garage. It was a simple working garage for engine assembly and body work. He didn't waste time and the engine was on the floor in about 30 minutes. With his ever-present cigarette, he gave us the bad news. The main bearings were shot and that if we continued, the crankshaft was sure to break. "Grank go boom! Kaput!" It would require a full engine rebuild. Lots of miming later, we learned that it could take up to 4 days and that another engine was not immediately available.
Not for lack of skill, but if he had a full machine shop on the premises, I might have considered letting him crack open the crankcase and hope he finishes in a day. But since he obviously didn't have a stack of new bearings on hand or the tooling required to grind them, I was pretty sure that we would just be left behind by the rally.
He protested in a very loud, but friendly way. Imagine a boisterious Turk babbling away incomprehensibly about, I believe, being stranded in the mountains of Greece with a broken "grank" because I didn't listen to the warnings of this loud Turk. Over one of our several rounds of Nescafe, I asked, pointing at the engine, "1000 keelo-meeter? 2000 keelo-meeter? When go boom? Parish?" He just laughed.
I actually really like this guy. He had a lot of personality. Jokes don't generally translate well, but we were laughing a lot. He is undoubtably the life of any party.
Anyways, back to the engine...
To his credit, he was able to tighten up the rear bearings which took out most of the end-play in the crankshaft. I'm very pleased to have a tighter engine. The new rear main seal was installed. I installed new spark plugs.
All parts, including the clutch, were throughly cleaned with fuel in an air sprayer (!!!). The air was full of atomized fuel. Even though he managed to not smoke for a few minutes, I still left the building during the cleaning procedure. I couldn't help but imagine the whole building blowing up.
With the engine back in the car, it started up right away and immediately sounded better. He adjusted the spark advance and the thing nearly purred. While we didn't get the engine "fixed", we did a significant improvement. I am very pleased with our encounter with the VW Club of Instanbul.
Day 30 - Detour to Yozgat
Yesterday we decided that our gimped car wasn't up to the day's
course of dirt roads and mountain climbs in the middle of this
awful storm. We set off on our own in a different direction on the
main highway to stay the night in a city called Yozgat. This detour
would cut out about 200km and a liter of oil.
Robert called his sister, Gillian, to find us a hotel. "nothing
fancy but secure parking would be nice" is what I said. She booked a
room at the Galati Cimli with an address of Cimli Milli Parki Yogu.
Miraculously we found signs and drove straight to it, in the dark,
in the rain.
We found ourselves in a wooded forest road that wound up a mountain
immediately south of Yozgat. When we pulled into the parking lot we
were stunned to find a dozen rally cars were already parked!
Apparently we weren't the only ones that wanted to avoid the awful
roads.
Inside the lobby, we found everyone relaxing, lubricated, and
discussing the day's events. It turns out that they came as a group,
arranged a group rate and a group dinner. We were basically crashing
their party. We thought that we were striking out on our own, but we
just crashed into the rally again!
The next morning, we rejoined the rally in Silvas, and again decided
to avoid the wet dirt roads by staying on the main highway. We had a
lovely scenic drive through the Turkish country side. As we drove
along, the weather turned colder and the car got happier.
Fortunately, this time we got to the rally destination hotel on Lake
Abant. The hotel received their first snow fall of the year today!
We are just above the snow line and it is sticking well. I expect a
layer of snow on the car in the morning.
Tomorrow we drive to Istanbul and we are meeting with the local VW
club. Maybe they can pull the engine and replace the oil seal. Maybe
they can't. I dunno. The language barrier is a real problem when
trying to make arrangements by phone. At least in person one can
mime and scribble numbers in the dirt.
course of dirt roads and mountain climbs in the middle of this
awful storm. We set off on our own in a different direction on the
main highway to stay the night in a city called Yozgat. This detour
would cut out about 200km and a liter of oil.
Robert called his sister, Gillian, to find us a hotel. "nothing
fancy but secure parking would be nice" is what I said. She booked a
room at the Galati Cimli with an address of Cimli Milli Parki Yogu.
Miraculously we found signs and drove straight to it, in the dark,
in the rain.
We found ourselves in a wooded forest road that wound up a mountain
immediately south of Yozgat. When we pulled into the parking lot we
were stunned to find a dozen rally cars were already parked!
Apparently we weren't the only ones that wanted to avoid the awful
roads.
Inside the lobby, we found everyone relaxing, lubricated, and
discussing the day's events. It turns out that they came as a group,
arranged a group rate and a group dinner. We were basically crashing
their party. We thought that we were striking out on our own, but we
just crashed into the rally again!
The next morning, we rejoined the rally in Silvas, and again decided
to avoid the wet dirt roads by staying on the main highway. We had a
lovely scenic drive through the Turkish country side. As we drove
along, the weather turned colder and the car got happier.
Fortunately, this time we got to the rally destination hotel on Lake
Abant. The hotel received their first snow fall of the year today!
We are just above the snow line and it is sticking well. I expect a
layer of snow on the car in the morning.
Tomorrow we drive to Istanbul and we are meeting with the local VW
club. Maybe they can pull the engine and replace the oil seal. Maybe
they can't. I dunno. The language barrier is a real problem when
trying to make arrangements by phone. At least in person one can
mime and scribble numbers in the dirt.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Day 28 - Entering Turkey
Day 28 of my imprisonment in P2P.
As Michelle said, there are a lot of highs and lows in this rally. Last night I went to bed in the mostly comfortable Hotel Pars in Tagriz, Iran while Ladybird was on the back of a truck moving somewhere north of Tehran. It was scheduled to arrive at the hotel around 3am and we would unload it in the morning. I awoke with the sun at 6am and could see the truck from my window. After a quick shower, I walked down to meet the driver to unload Ladybird.
As usual, an english-speaking young man from the local car club immediately materialised (in his 1972 Camaro) to assist with the deliberations. Iranians have a firm belief that westerners cannot function for a moment without local assistance (which is not far from the truth) and somehow appear to be omnipresent.
The car was unloaded without incident around 7am and I was feeling pretty good. Robert and I rejoined the rally with huge smiles on our faces. We started the 200 mile leg to Iran-Turkey border, kept it slow, and arrived 8 minutes ahead of pace. The fact that the engine had lower oil pressure didn't spoil our good mood.
Then the low arrived right on schedule: a huge puddle of oil formed under the engine as we waited in line to exit Iran. The dipstick showed that we had lost a half quart of oil! Checking: Was it just a loose fitting somewhere? Was it the rear main oil seal? Was the oil sump loose? Was the oil cooler gasket bad? The giant skid plate blocked the view. All we could see was that the valve covers and pushrod tubes were dry. The leak came from somewhere in the middle.
At least the border crossing was quite easy. Exiting Iran was just a quick stamp, and entering Turkey just required $20 for a visa. All told, it was our quickest crossing so far at 45 minutes. On the road, immediately north of the border, Mount Ararat (home of Noah's Arc) is on the right. This was the first biblical location that I have ever seen and I was impressed. It is a dramatic site. The road is at 6000ft and the mountain juts up, nearly by itself, another 10,000ft next to the road. It is no wonder that this mountain has such a rich mythological history.
We pushed on, struggled up the meandering hills. At the Passage Control in Agri, we found that we were down another half quart. No bother. Topped it up. The car was running well and we pushed on, discussing our options. The skid plate had to come off tonight to find the source of the leak. The skid plate is a pain in the ass and I was tired. I was making excuses to not bother.
We got to our hotel in Erzurum shortly after sunset and found that we lost a full quart! After dinner I went outside to start working on Ladybird and to my surprise I found that Peter, one of the fantastic rally mechanics, had already pulled off the skid plate. We had talked to him about the problem back in Agri and he mentioned taking off the skid plate; but I never expected that he would actually do it unsolicited! He was under the car looking around and non-chalantly asked me to start the engine. After a few minutes the worst case scenerio was confirmed. The rear main seal (actually in the front, but VW engines are backwards) was badly leaking. It was also obvious that the crankshaft is moving a bit. This would require, at least, the engine to be pulled. It might require the crankcase to be opened.
Oh bother. There is nothing we can do but press on through Turkey and keep adding oil. We will leave a trail of oil on the way to Instanbul. It will be a short day passing through Instanbul and maybe we can find time to replace it.
As Michelle said, there are a lot of highs and lows in this rally. Last night I went to bed in the mostly comfortable Hotel Pars in Tagriz, Iran while Ladybird was on the back of a truck moving somewhere north of Tehran. It was scheduled to arrive at the hotel around 3am and we would unload it in the morning. I awoke with the sun at 6am and could see the truck from my window. After a quick shower, I walked down to meet the driver to unload Ladybird.
As usual, an english-speaking young man from the local car club immediately materialised (in his 1972 Camaro) to assist with the deliberations. Iranians have a firm belief that westerners cannot function for a moment without local assistance (which is not far from the truth) and somehow appear to be omnipresent.
The car was unloaded without incident around 7am and I was feeling pretty good. Robert and I rejoined the rally with huge smiles on our faces. We started the 200 mile leg to Iran-Turkey border, kept it slow, and arrived 8 minutes ahead of pace. The fact that the engine had lower oil pressure didn't spoil our good mood.
Then the low arrived right on schedule: a huge puddle of oil formed under the engine as we waited in line to exit Iran. The dipstick showed that we had lost a half quart of oil! Checking: Was it just a loose fitting somewhere? Was it the rear main oil seal? Was the oil sump loose? Was the oil cooler gasket bad? The giant skid plate blocked the view. All we could see was that the valve covers and pushrod tubes were dry. The leak came from somewhere in the middle.
At least the border crossing was quite easy. Exiting Iran was just a quick stamp, and entering Turkey just required $20 for a visa. All told, it was our quickest crossing so far at 45 minutes. On the road, immediately north of the border, Mount Ararat (home of Noah's Arc) is on the right. This was the first biblical location that I have ever seen and I was impressed. It is a dramatic site. The road is at 6000ft and the mountain juts up, nearly by itself, another 10,000ft next to the road. It is no wonder that this mountain has such a rich mythological history.
We pushed on, struggled up the meandering hills. At the Passage Control in Agri, we found that we were down another half quart. No bother. Topped it up. The car was running well and we pushed on, discussing our options. The skid plate had to come off tonight to find the source of the leak. The skid plate is a pain in the ass and I was tired. I was making excuses to not bother.
We got to our hotel in Erzurum shortly after sunset and found that we lost a full quart! After dinner I went outside to start working on Ladybird and to my surprise I found that Peter, one of the fantastic rally mechanics, had already pulled off the skid plate. We had talked to him about the problem back in Agri and he mentioned taking off the skid plate; but I never expected that he would actually do it unsolicited! He was under the car looking around and non-chalantly asked me to start the engine. After a few minutes the worst case scenerio was confirmed. The rear main seal (actually in the front, but VW engines are backwards) was badly leaking. It was also obvious that the crankshaft is moving a bit. This would require, at least, the engine to be pulled. It might require the crankcase to be opened.
Oh bother. There is nothing we can do but press on through Turkey and keep adding oil. We will leave a trail of oil on the way to Instanbul. It will be a short day passing through Instanbul and maybe we can find time to replace it.
Will the Drama Never Stop?
This morning at 2am I got the following text:
"New engine has low pressure and dribbling oil. Sigh. Thrust bearing and front bearing may be bad. There are a lot of highs and lows on this trip."
Then this afternoon, the following message:
"Hi. We're now in Turkey. It's much nicer than Iran. The engine is leaking 1 1/2 liters of oil a day. It doesn't have much power. The oil pressure is low and we're just limping along."
"New engine has low pressure and dribbling oil. Sigh. Thrust bearing and front bearing may be bad. There are a lot of highs and lows on this trip."
Then this afternoon, the following message:
"Hi. We're now in Turkey. It's much nicer than Iran. The engine is leaking 1 1/2 liters of oil a day. It doesn't have much power. The oil pressure is low and we're just limping along."
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Chuck and lloyd
I virtual high five to a couple of my new friends Chuck and Lloyd. I've had a lot of fun hanging out with these guys. Their personalities are as large as their car!
And since they have a satellite data connection, Chuck is doing a great blog:
http://cschwager.wordpress.com/
And since they have a satellite data connection, Chuck is doing a great blog:
http://cschwager.wordpress.com/
Posts
My apologies for not being able to do any posts since China. Internet access has been nearly non-existent and my time sparse. I just read everything that Michelle had posted from the few conversations we've had over the satellite phone and she has been doing a fantastic job.
Her post regarding Iran conveys my feelings better than I could have written it.
Thanks Love!
Her post regarding Iran conveys my feelings better than I could have written it.
Thanks Love!
Back in Action!
I am now in Tabriz, Iran with my first net access since Beijing. I am exhausted so please my grammar and spelling below. I can honestly barely type.
This has been unbelievable. 4 days ago we broke the crankshaft or lost the
thrust bearing allowing the crankshaft to move. We were in Uzbekistan about 60
miles from the Turkmenistan border. A rally sweeper truck towed us through the
border and to the hotel. In the morning, the car was loaded on a truck and
taken to the next city in Turkmenistan. We couldn't do any repairs because
parts are unavailable and shipping into Turkmenistan would be impossible.
Keeping up with the rally is a huge concern because the days are very long and
catching up even 1 day is nearly impossible. Our only option was to keep moving
forward with the rally.
With 0 options in the police state of Turkmenistan, our mood darkening, we
eagerly awaited getting into Iran. Our plan was to consult with the Iranian Car
Club regarding repairs in Iran (is it possible?) or keep trucking to Istanbul
($$$!). After a 6 hour wait getting across the border (I've been fingerprinted
for the first time!), we finally made contact with the car club and they were
enthusiastic about helping and absolutely positive they could fix it. The
problem was that the rally was moving north-west to Gorgon and their facilities
were 3 hours south in Mashood. If they fixed it in 1 day, I would still be 2
days behind and in the wrong direction. Anyways, we decided to trust them.
After a harrowing 65km tow through the mountains and then another truck ride,
we arrived in Mashood at about 10pm.
As we were unloading the car from the truck, the local VW expert, Mr. Ali,
shows up in his show-condition 1956 Sealing Wax Red beetle! We were absolutely
stunned to find a near match for our car after despairing for days. We took the
car to their shop, stood back as Ali got an immediate start, and some of the
guys took us out to dinner. Our emotional state was
fairly fragile at this point but Saeed and Abbas took good care of us.
It is difficult to convey the chaos we felt around us. The numerous car club
members were a blur of activity and cellphones. I got the sense of a vast
network of behind-the-scenes support. Towards our own disorientation, we heard
constant reassurances of "Don't worry, no problem" and then we would be whisked
off to some other unknown destination. We were tired, depressed, unable to
communicate with our friends, doubting ourselves for trusting these people, and
feeling like strangers in a strange land.
Anyways, after a wonderful traditional Iranian dinner of kebab and rice with
Abbas and Saeed, another member, Mohammad, gave us his apartment for a night's
rest while he stayed at his sister's. In the morning, he served us breakfast
and drove us back to the car. Ali and Saeed had worked through the night and
they were nearly finished! While Ali finished, Saeed gave us rides in his dune
buggy! We traded a few gifts of t-shirts, hats, pictures, and some minor
speeches about cars transcending politics and all of us being an extended
family. A lawyer in the ranks of the club gave us an official government letter
that we were to present to police if we were stopped that explains why we were
driving a day behind the rally.
But our elation was quickly squelched when the engine failed to deliver
adequate oil pressure and began emitting sounds like a bad crank bearing. Robert
and I just went quiet as we handed over the keys again. I had gone from
literally tears of joy for these people's help in our time of helplessness to
being sick to my stomach with despair.
Ali didn't speak a lick of English so we were always unclear about what he was
doing. The other guys would generally wick us away for some food or other
distraction while Ali worked. I think Ali had requested that we be kept away so
that he wasn't distracted. I wish I had a nickle every time we heard "don't
worry, no problem." Anyways, after a very long and quiet afternoon, Ali
declared the car fixed after doing something with the oil pickup.
The only problem now was that we were fully 2 days behind the rally with little
hope of catching up by following the prescribed route. If we took a short-cut
from the prescribed route, Abbas warned us that we would be regularly stopped
by the police and delayed for hours each time. The Chaos was unleashed and a
truck materialized to take the car to Tagriz. We were given plain tickets and
would arrive in Tagriz in time for lunch a few hours before the rally arrived!
With the car trucked and away, we had a few hours to kill before our flight.
Mohammad wanted to take us to dinner and suggested pizza. We drove clear across
town to his favorite "delicious pizza for me." You can imagine our surprise
when we arrived at an Iranian clone of McDonald's called McMan! OMFG we drove
an hour across town to eat pizza at McDonald's! My attempts to suppress laughter
largely failed.
As I write this, I am sitting in comfort at a lovely hotel, the first rally
people are trickling in, and our car will be here tonight. The last few days
have been full of emotional ups and downs. We would have been completely lost
without the guys from the car club and we are forever in their debt.
Edit: The URL I was given for the car club is http://www.khorasan-mafiri.ir but it doesn't seem to be working. I think they are a local division of a larger MAFIRI group at http://mafiri.ir/
This has been unbelievable. 4 days ago we broke the crankshaft or lost the
thrust bearing allowing the crankshaft to move. We were in Uzbekistan about 60
miles from the Turkmenistan border. A rally sweeper truck towed us through the
border and to the hotel. In the morning, the car was loaded on a truck and
taken to the next city in Turkmenistan. We couldn't do any repairs because
parts are unavailable and shipping into Turkmenistan would be impossible.
Keeping up with the rally is a huge concern because the days are very long and
catching up even 1 day is nearly impossible. Our only option was to keep moving
forward with the rally.
With 0 options in the police state of Turkmenistan, our mood darkening, we
eagerly awaited getting into Iran. Our plan was to consult with the Iranian Car
Club regarding repairs in Iran (is it possible?) or keep trucking to Istanbul
($$$!). After a 6 hour wait getting across the border (I've been fingerprinted
for the first time!), we finally made contact with the car club and they were
enthusiastic about helping and absolutely positive they could fix it. The
problem was that the rally was moving north-west to Gorgon and their facilities
were 3 hours south in Mashood. If they fixed it in 1 day, I would still be 2
days behind and in the wrong direction. Anyways, we decided to trust them.
After a harrowing 65km tow through the mountains and then another truck ride,
we arrived in Mashood at about 10pm.
As we were unloading the car from the truck, the local VW expert, Mr. Ali,
shows up in his show-condition 1956 Sealing Wax Red beetle! We were absolutely
stunned to find a near match for our car after despairing for days. We took the
car to their shop, stood back as Ali got an immediate start, and some of the
guys took us out to dinner. Our emotional state was
fairly fragile at this point but Saeed and Abbas took good care of us.
It is difficult to convey the chaos we felt around us. The numerous car club
members were a blur of activity and cellphones. I got the sense of a vast
network of behind-the-scenes support. Towards our own disorientation, we heard
constant reassurances of "Don't worry, no problem" and then we would be whisked
off to some other unknown destination. We were tired, depressed, unable to
communicate with our friends, doubting ourselves for trusting these people, and
feeling like strangers in a strange land.
Anyways, after a wonderful traditional Iranian dinner of kebab and rice with
Abbas and Saeed, another member, Mohammad, gave us his apartment for a night's
rest while he stayed at his sister's. In the morning, he served us breakfast
and drove us back to the car. Ali and Saeed had worked through the night and
they were nearly finished! While Ali finished, Saeed gave us rides in his dune
buggy! We traded a few gifts of t-shirts, hats, pictures, and some minor
speeches about cars transcending politics and all of us being an extended
family. A lawyer in the ranks of the club gave us an official government letter
that we were to present to police if we were stopped that explains why we were
driving a day behind the rally.
But our elation was quickly squelched when the engine failed to deliver
adequate oil pressure and began emitting sounds like a bad crank bearing. Robert
and I just went quiet as we handed over the keys again. I had gone from
literally tears of joy for these people's help in our time of helplessness to
being sick to my stomach with despair.
Ali didn't speak a lick of English so we were always unclear about what he was
doing. The other guys would generally wick us away for some food or other
distraction while Ali worked. I think Ali had requested that we be kept away so
that he wasn't distracted. I wish I had a nickle every time we heard "don't
worry, no problem." Anyways, after a very long and quiet afternoon, Ali
declared the car fixed after doing something with the oil pickup.
The only problem now was that we were fully 2 days behind the rally with little
hope of catching up by following the prescribed route. If we took a short-cut
from the prescribed route, Abbas warned us that we would be regularly stopped
by the police and delayed for hours each time. The Chaos was unleashed and a
truck materialized to take the car to Tagriz. We were given plain tickets and
would arrive in Tagriz in time for lunch a few hours before the rally arrived!
With the car trucked and away, we had a few hours to kill before our flight.
Mohammad wanted to take us to dinner and suggested pizza. We drove clear across
town to his favorite "delicious pizza for me." You can imagine our surprise
when we arrived at an Iranian clone of McDonald's called McMan! OMFG we drove
an hour across town to eat pizza at McDonald's! My attempts to suppress laughter
largely failed.
As I write this, I am sitting in comfort at a lovely hotel, the first rally
people are trickling in, and our car will be here tonight. The last few days
have been full of emotional ups and downs. We would have been completely lost
without the guys from the car club and we are forever in their debt.
Edit: The URL I was given for the car club is http://www.khorasan-mafiri.ir but it doesn't seem to be working. I think they are a local division of a larger MAFIRI group at http://mafiri.ir/
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Stop the Presses!!!!! News from Iran!
Just when it seemed that the boys were out of the running, when all hope was lost and the towel was thrown in...
A new development!
OK, so Turkmenistan sucks, we figured that much out.
The fallen 'Ladybird' had to be towed across the country because the police state of Turkmenistan would not allow them to depart from the rally group.
That all changed when the rally entered Iran:
At the border, there was a group of young, Iranian men with their classic cars. They had gathered there to welcome the rally to Iran and to cheer them on. Garrick had heard of the club before and went up to introduce himself. He explained the situation of the 'Ladybird' and asked if the Iranian car club could help. The young men were exuberant and offered Garrick and Robert their help. The men explained that they had a shop and all the parts that were needed to repair the car and anything else that Garrick and Robert required to get back into the race...but there was a catch.
The shop was located about 250 km off of the rally route.
What to do?
Stay with the rally and get towed along, losing precious time, until a good mechanic shop could be found?
OR, leave the route and the safety and comfort of the rally association and go off to who-knows-where with a group of complete strangers (albeit, friendly and excited strangers) who claimed they could help repair the car and get 'Team Ladybird' back in the race? It was a difficult decision, but in the end, Garrick and Robert decided to take a chance with their new friends and leave the route.
It turned out to be a great decision.
The men from the car club tied the 'Ladybird' to the back of a Camero and towed it about 50 km, then hired a flatbed truck to haul the 'Ladybird' the remaining 200 km to the shop. At the shop, the guys immediately got to work for repairs. They worked through the night to get the boys back on the road as quickly as possible.
In the meantime, Garrick and Robert have been housed and fed and entertained and taken care of far beyond their expectations. Garrick made it clear that both he and Robert have offered, numerous times, to contribute economically to the undertakings, but have been roundly refused every time.
Conclusion:
The Iranian Classic Car Club in Mooshad is awesome.
Click here for a very short (and only, as far as I can find) article about the club
Iranian Classic Car Club
Hooray for the Iranian Car Club and middle eastern hospitality!
A new development!
OK, so Turkmenistan sucks, we figured that much out.
The fallen 'Ladybird' had to be towed across the country because the police state of Turkmenistan would not allow them to depart from the rally group.
That all changed when the rally entered Iran:
At the border, there was a group of young, Iranian men with their classic cars. They had gathered there to welcome the rally to Iran and to cheer them on. Garrick had heard of the club before and went up to introduce himself. He explained the situation of the 'Ladybird' and asked if the Iranian car club could help. The young men were exuberant and offered Garrick and Robert their help. The men explained that they had a shop and all the parts that were needed to repair the car and anything else that Garrick and Robert required to get back into the race...but there was a catch.
The shop was located about 250 km off of the rally route.
What to do?
Stay with the rally and get towed along, losing precious time, until a good mechanic shop could be found?
OR, leave the route and the safety and comfort of the rally association and go off to who-knows-where with a group of complete strangers (albeit, friendly and excited strangers) who claimed they could help repair the car and get 'Team Ladybird' back in the race? It was a difficult decision, but in the end, Garrick and Robert decided to take a chance with their new friends and leave the route.
It turned out to be a great decision.
The men from the car club tied the 'Ladybird' to the back of a Camero and towed it about 50 km, then hired a flatbed truck to haul the 'Ladybird' the remaining 200 km to the shop. At the shop, the guys immediately got to work for repairs. They worked through the night to get the boys back on the road as quickly as possible.
In the meantime, Garrick and Robert have been housed and fed and entertained and taken care of far beyond their expectations. Garrick made it clear that both he and Robert have offered, numerous times, to contribute economically to the undertakings, but have been roundly refused every time.
Conclusion:
The Iranian Classic Car Club in Mooshad is awesome.
Click here for a very short (and only, as far as I can find) article about the club
Iranian Classic Car Club
Hooray for the Iranian Car Club and middle eastern hospitality!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Oh, the Horror!!!
I received the sad news from Team Ladybird this weekend.
They're effectively out of the race.
In the end, it wasn't the rabid yaks, or the washed out roads of Mongolia that did them in. It wasn't a bad bowl of mutton stew, malaria or migraines.
It was a little bearing, deep within the engine which ground the car to a screeching halt.
They broke down in Uzbekistan, just outside of Turkmenistan, and ended up towing the car across the border. Turns out Turkmenistan is run like a Police State and the boys weren't allowed to veer from the course to get the car to a mechanic, nor were they allowed to go ahead of the rally or stay behind to fix the car. There was nothing they could do but tow the car along for the entire two days, being forced to stay with the group.
They have been told that there may be greater possibilities for repair in Iran and that in Turkey, there are a number of ace VW mechanics, but that's many days away and might be so expensive as to not be worth it.
As much as Garrick sounded disappointed, he also sounded a little relieved to be done with the rally. He said the schedule was grueling and the few days off they have had so far, were spent fixing the car, or making adjustments or doing preventative maintenance.
All that aside, he said it has also been an incredible experience: That everyone they have met has been excited to see them, friendly and welcoming; That when passing through small towns, the populations gather along the sides of the road to wave at them; That they have been made to feel like rock stars.
Garrick didn't know what the next steps would be, but he promised to keep us posted. Stay tuned for further developments.
They're effectively out of the race.
In the end, it wasn't the rabid yaks, or the washed out roads of Mongolia that did them in. It wasn't a bad bowl of mutton stew, malaria or migraines.
It was a little bearing, deep within the engine which ground the car to a screeching halt.
They broke down in Uzbekistan, just outside of Turkmenistan, and ended up towing the car across the border. Turns out Turkmenistan is run like a Police State and the boys weren't allowed to veer from the course to get the car to a mechanic, nor were they allowed to go ahead of the rally or stay behind to fix the car. There was nothing they could do but tow the car along for the entire two days, being forced to stay with the group.
They have been told that there may be greater possibilities for repair in Iran and that in Turkey, there are a number of ace VW mechanics, but that's many days away and might be so expensive as to not be worth it.
As much as Garrick sounded disappointed, he also sounded a little relieved to be done with the rally. He said the schedule was grueling and the few days off they have had so far, were spent fixing the car, or making adjustments or doing preventative maintenance.
All that aside, he said it has also been an incredible experience: That everyone they have met has been excited to see them, friendly and welcoming; That when passing through small towns, the populations gather along the sides of the road to wave at them; That they have been made to feel like rock stars.
Garrick didn't know what the next steps would be, but he promised to keep us posted. Stay tuned for further developments.
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