We finally rolled in to New Orleans, our final stop on this crazy voyage, Friday afternoon. Before that however, we had two more rounds of challenges to complete.
Thursday's task, along the Murphy, NC to Birmingham, AL route was to find 21 mailboxes which matched the images given to us as we left the parking lot. We were told that the receptacles could be found on an 18-mile stretch of Highway 225 in Georgia. We weren't, however, told the best strategy for finding them. That's where the "fun" began.
Given that the weather for the region was predicted to be rainy, Wendy and I elected to skip the route given in the rally materials and drive directly to the start of the search in Chatsworth, GA. We arrived around noon, well ahead of most of the other teams. Our original idea was to stop at each mailbox, compare it to the photo sheet, then move on to the next box. After a few close calls with traffic along the surprisingly active two-lane, we abandoned that idea, and simply began taking photos of every mailbox along the route. As we moved south, the predicted foul weather met us. Wendy had to contend with poor driving visibility, while I stayed pretty much wet from hanging out the passenger side window snapping pictures. Reading Twitter posts from teams which arrived to 225 later in the afternoon, we learned that state police and sheriff's deputies had begun warning against any further activities in the area.
We arrived at the evening's hotel, The Medical Center Inn, around 6pm. The first team to arrive at the hotel had posted on Twitter that the condition of the hotel would prompt him to sleep with a condom on. Although, we did not find the facility to be unclean (at least as far as we could tell), it was certainly not the lodging highlight of the trip. We awoke the next morning to find an empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose not far from our doorstep. Nothing goes better with a rundown hotel than a bottle of cheap booze, I guess.
Friday morning everyone gathered at the Barking Kudu, a popular Birmingham bar, which had been the site of a party for B.A.B.E. participants the evening before. At 9:30, the horn was sounded and we started our engines....to look for cracked windshields.
Yes, according to the rally sheet for Day 5, the Birmingham area is well-known for having a large quantity of less-than-structurally-sound windshields on the roads. Our task was to find 5 such windshields, more points being awarded for those screens with the most cracks. Wendy and I returned to an area south of Birmingham where we had visited briefly the night before, due to a GPS error getting to the hotel. Not the best side of the city, to be sure, but an area in which an abundance of damaged vehicles were likely to be found.
We quickly found our way to a small shopping center and number of cracked windshields. While most passersby took only curious notice of our activities, one gentleman in particular was none too amused by our photography efforts. Unfortunately, his vehicle would provide the most points, since its windshield was little more than a spider's web of fractures. As I adjusted the camera's zoom to get the best perspective, I heard a booming voice from one of the stores. "HEY! What you doin' with my car!???"
Now, in most cases, we've been able to whip out one of our handy "business cards" for the rally and, along with a smile, defuse any and all confrontations. The gravity in this gentleman's voice, however, made it clear he would brook no discussion. Moving as fast as a skirt and Birkenstocks would allow, I coaxed my ample frame quickly into the relative safety of EZ, strongly suggesting to Wendy that she make all due haste in effecting a departure. In response, she whipped the car around in a 180 worthy of any Hollywood action film. Photos in hand and the risk of bodily harm abated, we made for the interstate for a rendezvous in the Big Easy with Violet and her bright yellow Smart Car.
The last challenge of the day involved finding the aforementioned Violet somewhere in the French Quarter, where she would give us a token worth a few more points. The catch was, she would only be there until 5:30p. So, we moved with all due haste south, sometimes solo, other times in caravan with other teams. Around 4pm, we rolled down Canal Street and our (so far) only encounter with The Law.
Canal Street is the main thoroughfare in downtowm NO which separates the French Quarter from the modern (or American) section. In order to preserve the orderly flow of traffic, left turns into the French Quarter are not permitted. Hoping that Bourbon Street was one of the exceptions, I turned left....right before the watchful eyes of New Orlean's Finest. Luckily, the officer was not interested in busting the chops of an otherwise law abiding citizen and let me off with a warning, which has been dutifully adhered to since that encounter.
After twenty minutes of searching, we found the effervescent Violet and her festively-colored transport. The quick find gave us extra time at the hotel to have our points in for the 7:30 deadline.
As the teams gathered in the hotel lobby to submit points or just to mingle before the winners were announced, the decibel value of the hubbub reached critical levels; the pinnacle of which was attained when everyone broke into a chorus of the rally's official theme song, "Move Along", by the All American Rejects. The entire rally was subsequently ejected from the hotel. We moved en masse to a nearby parking lot to hold the awards ceremony. All in all, it was a fitting conclusion to an event filled with breakdowns, brushes with the authorities and general mayhem - along with a healthy dose of camaraderie, creativity and about the most fun you could have in five days on the road.
And what of the star of this adventure, EZ, the little car that could? Despite the previous owner's assertion that her engine was not worth the expense of repair, EZ managed the 2,500 miles since we left North Carolina with little complaint - consuming 10 quarts of oil and a paltry $103.06 in fuel. The MPG averaged out to 33.09 for the entire trip. How's THAT for 21 year old tech?
Whether EZ will join us next year, assuming we throw our hats in the ring for B.A.B.E. 2010, remains to be seen. There is already someone here in New Orleans who has offered to buy her. In any event, that little car, which provided us with so much fun over the past week, certainly will not be bound for the scrapyard any time soon. She's a rally veteran now and as they say, "old soldiers never die".
