Days prior to the Rally: the Cobra is having some SERIOUS intake manifold issues. Will has a rental 2003 Mitsubishi Eclipse convertible on hold in case of emergency, and it looks like that might be our car!

DAY 0 April 16, 2003

OK, here it is…Gumball is here. We have arrived at the Fairmont in San Fran and it is BEAUTIFUL! We followed the map until we were close, then we just followed the random amazing cars with the funny license plates: DVLBLR (Texas Richard…means "Devil Baller,") and many of those long goofy white ones they use in Europe. When we pulled into the garage, all we had to do was say the word: "GUMBALL," and we were royalty. "Right this way, sir." The rental Mitsubishi was taken care of, and we were escorted through the maze of cars one only dreams about to the elevator. Through the roar of the Ferrari engines, we could hear talk of octane levels and vehicle specifications. We were in awe. Amidst all the camera flashes and the blinding light of the film crew, we waited in the registration line to pick up our materials, sign away ALL rights to EVERYTHING, and be filmed for the movie coming out in December… oh yeah…and got our badges that we will scan to the website. We checked out our most amazing suite, then took the Trolley and wandered around San Fran from bar to bar.
After scoping out all the cars in the garage with our next president, Senator John Kerry ("Hey man, how's it going") we rode the elevator to the $10,000/night penthouse for the opening party. If this was any indication of how the trip is going to be, it will definitely live up to our expectations. My cousins Pete, Cory, and Pete's wife Jill (they live in Santa Rosa) were on the guest list and met us at the party. "Oh my GOD! That's Tony Hawk!" Jill exclaimed while I was shaking hands with the mayor. I know…name dropping…but that's really the way it happened. Mayor Brown was schmoozing the press, and telling everyone about the parade of cars he was leading in a Ferrari through San Fran, down Lombard, and over the Golden Gate. I was dribbling champagne and caviar off my big ol' handlebar mustache and constantly feeling if any of the hair had grown back on my freshly shaven head. Late night, we partied at some ritzy place where the "Cuban Brothers" break danced (broke danced?) naked. Didn't really NEED to see that!

DAY 1 April 17, 2003

OK, so we were feeling a little uninformed yesterday, but today was even crazier. After our morning briefing, we tried to get ahead of the sleep we knew we were going to miss, but with so many anxieties, we walked UP and DOWN and UP those wicked SF hills to eat and take in the scenery. The people are so NICE here!
7:00 pm. Willie Brown led us on the parade, but many of the GBallers already got lost! MORANS! Will thinks we can win it. HA! What a MORAN! We saw Charles Morgan pull up in his Morgan, and met a cool guy that looks like Pete Sampras that bought a Prowler 6 hours before the Rally…just for the Rally! The cars are honestly the most amazing collection of vehicles I could imagine.
So the rally began. They are handing us "Route cards" at each check point to let us know where we are supposed to go next. This keeps anyone from having an unfair advantage. We started about 30-40 cars back, and were all excited when we'd see someone pass. "DUDE!" Will would exclaim, seconds before a Porsche would FLY past us. "They are going SO FAST!!!" We were so much in awe we couldn't even point the video camera in the right direction. We're off to our first checkpoint: Circus Circus in Reno.

DAY 2 April 18, 2003

Unbelievable. I'll write about it later. EXHAUSTED!

DAY 2 continued

OK…I'm rested.
We got to Reno at I don't know WHAT time. We were 22nd! Out of 150 of the most unbelievable cars we've ever seen! AND we refueled right before the checkpoint so we could have a good start going into Las Vegas! Pulling into Reno was a blast! There were lines of people roped off and a red carpet laid down the street for us to run up to get our check point stamp. The fans were so great and so supportive! Thank you all! Carnival games were free. I won a big stuffed horse for Toni. Will is aggravated that I want to drag it all across the country to give to my girlfriend (who LOVES horses, but HATES stuffed animals.) I'm hoping Toni will be able to get off work and surprise me in Miami. I met the supermodel Jodie Kidd, but didn't know it, and our friend Steve hung out with Pink and her boyfriend, Carey Hart. After hanging out for a while and refueling our bodies with gourmet food, we were off to Vegas.
There was NO traffic between Reno and Vegas in the middle of the night, so we FLEW! We arrived ~15th! NOT BAD! As they pulled in behind us, people that once scoffed at our rental car are now exclaiming in frustration, "There's that DAMN Mitsubishi!!! How did they BEAT us?!?!?!" Rumors are flying around that at least 5 people got arrested at the road block 100 miles outside of San Fran, and the Irish guy in the Porsche Ruf went to jail for doing 211 mph.
7:00 am and we can't check into our room at Mandalay Bay until 12:00. Will and I agree we need BIG margaritas and sit down to people watch at the wave machine. We both decided we want to work there. The staff gets to stand around and talk while Tiger Woods and Loni Anderson (both at MB the same time we are) hang out in the cabanas. I know! Crazy irony! Loni…Burt…Cannonball…Gumball! OK, so we gorged on the buffet, gambled a little, slept a little, went to a couple of GB parties, and are about to get some sleep so we can get up for the 7:30 am start toward Tucson. Will just reminded me that we were up for over 36 hours yesterday. The adrenalin is so high that it really isn't bothering either of us.

DAY 3 already? April 19, 2003

Will got up early and milled around the cars. I slept through the alarms, but the thunder of everyone warming up their engines is way too loud to sleep through. I was momentarily pissed off that Will wouldn't help load the trunk, but then remembered: I'm on the GUMBALLLLLL!!!! (Plus he let me get up last)
Our route card was handed out: Tucson via Phoenix, after a time-out checkpoint to watch Carey Hart do some amazing motorbike jumps over our cars. We were in Phoenix for a few hours racing around some track…NASCAR? Will and I know nothing about it, but it seems like we should be impressed.
The next leg to Tucson was a long one (but again, no traffic, so we were able to make REALLY good time.) Off and on, we spotted the official "Gumball Film Crew Helicopter." A Porsche that was right in front of us mooned them, so we're thinking we'll get in the movie on that shot.
We arrived at our scenic hotel 5th! No one can believe we are doing so well…especially US! I spoke with my dad (who also arrived in Tucson this evening) and he read an excerpt from the front page of the Tucson newspaper about the Gumball. News reports confirm the early arrests in California. Out of my window I can hear Texas Richard's radio blasting "I wanna be a COWboy, Baby," and screaming "GUMBALL ROCKS!" He is enjoying the limelight and signing autographs. Everyone is having the best time of their lives and is very relaxed.
Dinner was excellent: Duck tacos among other things. The hotel staff has been extremely accommodating.

DAY 4 April 20, 2003

Off to San Antonio. It's a gonna be a loooooong one today.

The checkpoint before San Antonio is the White Sands Missile Testing Range in New Mexico. Will is pissed that we have to go out of our way, and wants to head straight for San Antonio. I really don't mind. It's a journey. An adventure. All part of the experience.
After we leave the testing range, I tell Will to lay it down. "No cops are going to be around here. There's NOTHING here!" Minutes later Will had his FIRST encounter with the law: "Let me guess…you're in the back of the pack and are trying to catch up. Do you realize you were going 75 in a 55?" We don't really know how we should respond. Will is elated since the radar detector had gone off in time for Will to brake down from 110! I'm feeling like we really NEEEEED this on film for posterity, but don't want to make Will feel like the camera has an adverse affect on his sentence. "Uh…yes sir…I'm really sorry…how do we get to…?Where ARE we headed again?" We're both so tired and confused we can't even remember what State we're in. It's all starting to blur together. To make a long story even longer, as my friend Jamie would say, the cop told us to "be careful" and gave us directions out of the missile testing range. HE LET US GO! We are both SO relieved, but I'm KICKING myself for not filming it.
Texas proved not as friendly to Will as New Mexico. After driving the crappiest and most desolate leg of the trip, Will was once again pulled over. The Texas cops were STEREOTYPICAL Southern Gumball Law Enforcers complete with the hats, the drawl, and the sun behind them silhouetting their egos. Once I saw that Buford #2 had begun to write Will's ticket, and that he was not about to let him off, I couldn't resist pulling out the video camera. "You haven't had TOO much trouble from Gumballers, have you?" I asked Buford #1 while Buford #2 was still writing. "Awww…Heck no…" Buford #1 began to act almost childlike. "But Jesse James got thrown in the Houscow for runnin'" I have NO idea how to spell that, and it took a few seconds for my mind to put together what he meant. Then, "Film him, not me. HE'S the one writing the ticket."
"Here's your citation for going 102 in a 70. Two hundred and fitty fi dawllars," Buford 1 drew out for the camera.
"Oh... How long does it take to get to San Antonio?" Will asked, but it was too late to play that game on this guy.
"Goin' 102? Or goin' 70?" B1 smart-assed.

The next couple hundred miles were pretty quiet. I started to feel really badly, and hoped Will didn't think my filming had anything to do with B1 not reducing the fine. But also, part of me was SO glad to have captured that moment on film for Will and I to enjoy in years to come.

Texas is a big big state.

Texas is an enormous amount of largely nothing at all.

#5 in San Antonio! And that was after driving all over town looking for the Alamo! "That DAMN MITSUBISHI!" There was a long line of people welcoming us, including my good friend Farsh. I heard one fan scoff, "my MOM has one of those." The hotel staff whisked us out of our car and ushered us to our room to get settled. Texas has been really rough on the Gumballers, and we heard of MAYBE one car that didn't get a ticket. Had a BIG party in the hotel lobby, then to bed.

DAY 5 April 21, 2003

Off to New Orleans. It's a short trip, and we have a checkpoint at another raceway in Houston, and the biggest car dealership in the world (along with a NASCAR museum). Not too impressed since the parking lot had more exotic cars than the showroom! HEY! There's the Irish guy with the Ruf! He got out of jail! Yep…211mph on the GPS. CRAZINESS!
The rest of the way to New Orleans was uneventful. We got to New Orleans in time to take a quick nap, eat a Louisiana gourmet dinner including quail and alligator sausage. Maximillion held a meeting with us to tell us the Governor of Alabama had sent him a letter banning all Gumballers from entering the state on charges of "racing on public roadways." "We can either go around it, or try to negotiate a police escort."
Then we hit Bourbon Street for a while.

DAY 6 April 22, 2003

Max somehow worked out the Alabama problem and we raced across to our checkpoint at Hooters in Ocala, FL. Will tried to get me to leave New Orleans three hours ahead of schedule (4 a.m… right…I'm getting up at 4 a.m.), and skip any checkpoints so we could be first in Miami. I passively resisted. Coming in first was not as important to me as the experience. Will agreed.
Will was the one who finally figured out how to use the GPS, and we were able to time our gas stops to the last ounce of gas in the tank. Actually, at one stop, Will said he bought 1/10th of a gallon more than the tank was supposed to hold. We played it pretty close on that one. With so many miles to cover, we figure we might come in the top 20 if we don't get pulled over, and can ABSOLUTELY minimize our gas stops.
We got our card stamped in Ocala, got some food to go, and split for Miami. After some debate on the route to take to Miami, we agreed at the last minute to take the FL turnpike. I held a steady pace, and it was truly uncanny how Will was able to sense the presence of radar long before the detector. The further we went, the more faith I had in Will's psychic abilities, and the faster I drove. I think he said that Cleo is his aunt, so it must be hereditary. I lost count how many people we saw pulled over. Common dialog: "DUDE! Cops". "Who is it?" Then, "MAN…the Viper's pulled over…AGAIN!" as we fly on by.

MIAMI

A movie script could not have been better for the end of this rally:

Jessica was calling Will every 30 seconds asking where we were, and I was completely flipping out yelling at Will to hang up and give me directions into the hotel. Will was stoic and kept me from completely losing it. My anxiety has never been so high in my life. Hoping we'd be in the top 20, we frantically scanned for the orange cones and Gumball signs familiar to us at all the other checkpoints. NOTHING!

With the hotel on our right, we couldn't find the Gumball entrance, and there were no other Gumballers around to follow into the lot. The whole thing felt so surreal. "Where IS everybody?!?!"
The gas light had been on for about 20 miles, so we calculated we had 0-2 miles of gas left.
I pulled up to a guard station on the left and yelled out, "GUMBALL!"
The guard had no idea what I was talking about.
"Um…OK…how do we get into the Mandarin Oriental Hotel?"
"Loop back around the circle, then cut straight across the road you just came up," the guard said with no particular urgency.
As I began to pull up to the intersection Will spotted two Porsches. "DUDE STOP! Let them go by!" Will exclaimed.

In a moment of Gumball brilliance (if I do say so myself), I pointed in the direction of the guard shack. The Porsches took the bait and zoomed past. Very fair, since it was the same path WE had taken, and we had arrived there before them. The angels sang and there was a golden glow around us.

I ZIPPED across the intersection, and we pulled up to the door to find Jessica and my sister jumping up and down screaming, "YOU GUYS! YOU WON THE GUMBALL!"
"Congratulations, guys!" the Gumball representative calmly said.
"Huh?" We both looked at each other in typical confusion. We honestly thought they were messing with us.
Film crews were all over us as the two Porsches pulled in just seconds later. "THAT DAMN MITSUBISHI!"

And that is the story how Will and Kent, two great eternal friends, two morans from Leonardsville, won the Gumball Rally on April 22, 2003. REALLY!

"What did you guys win?" Eliott from DC 101 asked Will during his 15 minute interview.

Bragging rights. That's it. That's all we need. We won the Gumball. We made history, baby.