Those
of us that attended Parade in Milwaukee this past summer heard of the Drive for
Hope and the opportunity to vie for a chance to participate. Our President, Bob Miller, announced that PCA was a sponsor
for the event and would use a raffle to select five lucky members to
participate. Upon my return to Georgia I promptly went to the Hope Foundation
web site and made a contribution. This
was a “no brainer” for me given the fact that the Hope Foundation is a major
fundraiser for Cancer Research, the fresh memory of our loss of Doc Emard, and
I’m fortunate enough to be a 22-year survivor.
Once the donation was made I promptly forgot all about the event.
Much to my surprise, I received a call late in August, the Thursday
before Rennfest if memory serves me correctly, notifying me that I was to
participate in the event.
The
plan was to begin in Hawaii late in September completing the 50-state drive with
three Porsches in less than 9 days. Success
would be a new world record. For my
part, I was asked to drive from Spokane, Washington to Fargo, North Dakota.
The car to be driven was a 2000 911 Turbo and the prospect of open roads
was exciting. All was not to be so
easy though. World events would
have a significant impact.
The
tragic and unspeakable terrorist attacks on our country on September 11th
caused everyone to focus their attentions elsewhere. The drive was immediately postponed. Given the nature of the event being to raise money for a
charitable cause the decision was made to reschedule for late October.
It was also decided that 25% of the money raised would be donated to the
FDNY September 11th Relief Fund.
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Later
that month, I flew to Spokane to meet the team as they returned from
Alaska. Tom Zaffarano,
another of the PCA members from Pennsylvania, and I patiently waited for
our chariots to arrive. The
schedule indicated 13:00 Sunday afternoon as the target but we were told
that the cars could arrive as much as an hour early.
Tom and I sat in the lobby of our hotel as the |
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scheduled
time came and passed. An hour and
yet another passed with no word. We
couldn’t stand the tension any longer and decided to call one of the
organizers. It was then that we
learned the team had encountered snow on the leg from Seattle to Alaska and were
running late. Finally, at four in
the afternoon, three cars and six co-drivers made their way into the parking
lot. We all breathed a collective
sigh of relief. One third of the
team departed, some of the remainders took a well-deserved shower and we were on
our way thirty minutes later. There
were now four PCA members, one of the event organizers and a guest writer in the
mix. As we departed from the hotel
in a light rain, our mission was clear, we needed to deliver the cars to Fargo
by noon on Monday.
My
co-driver, Ryan Rees, a writer from Acworth, GA had been with the car since
Seattle and was happy to allow me “first honors”.
Once we finally found our way out of the city we headed east on
Interstate 90. This was my first
opportunity to savor the power of this wonderful vehicle and I was, indeed, not
disappointed. Even with the wide
tires on a rain-soaked interstate, the all wheel drive system supported spirited
driving. Night was quickly upon us
and, thankfully, the rain ceased. With
relatively light traffic, our pace quickened a bit.
It was, however, somewhat tempered by the fresh memory of an encounter
with the RCMP north of the border the night before.
Some of my colleagues had received unwanted souvenirs reminding them of
their adventures in Canada. Our
first fuel stop was about two hours out. Fuel,
a quick bathroom break and a handful of “junk food” and we were off.
Next stop, Montana.
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The
miles went by quickly as we averaged “just over” the posted speed
limit of 75. There’s not
too much to see in this part of the US as it is and, without a moon, even
less. The lead car’s driving lights blazed a path through the
darkness as Ryan and I assumed the position of rear guard and we whisked
through the night. |
Three
hours later and, its time for fuel once again.
It’s wise to err on the side of caution for fuel late at night in
western Montana. This was our first
driver change. Fuel the car,
un-fuel the body, a fist full of junk food and off we went. Next stop, Mammoth Hot Springs, Wyoming.
For the first time, we saw some signs of life, which was a bit disconcerting. The occasional deer was feeding on the short grass right on the shoulder of the road. Thankfully, the folks managing the event for PCA had anticipated this and had equipped the cars with “Deer Whistles” that worked. From what I understand one of our Peachstate members can vouch for the fact that, “deer vs. Porsche = deer wins”.
We continued our drive across Interstate 90, took the hundred mile or so
detour to Wyoming and back, and carried on.
Once back on 90, it was fuel time again.
It had become a routine by now and I am sure that shares in the snack
food industry were helped by the event. A
change of drivers and away we went.
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My
co-driver asked to be relived a bit early on this leg.
He had been in the car for over a day now and didn’t have to ask
twice. That was the only time
the three Porsches broke rank. We
pulled to the shoulder and quickly |
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traded
places. Not wanting to alarm the
others, I exercised the twin-turbos to quickly rejoin.
I can attest to the fact that the car “pulls” from zero to ???
without a hitch. Before we knew it,
the sun began to light the eastern sky. The
clouds overhead turned from an ashen gray, to shades of red, orange and purple.
One more fuel stop and we’re closing on our goal.
We rolled into the hotel on lovely downtown Fargo, North Dakota just
before 10:00 Monday morning.
Almost as soon as the adventure had begun, we were there. The team had completed the +1200 mile leg in less than sixteen hours. Laurie Mascari, a PCA member from Memphis, my partner Ryan and I turned the cars over to three fresh faces. Tom was to continue for several more days taking one of the cars all the way to Atlanta. Our group ducked into the hotel to freshen up, grab a decent meal and head for the airport for the journey home.
The
event was a success completing the drive in just over eight days and raising
over a hundred thousand dollars for the Hope Foundation.
For me, well I can only hope that Doc was watching and smiling as that
Arena Red Turbo danced across the Interstate at speed for a few brief moments
early that Monday morning.
