Probably not the best dinner-time programming, but we all still love watching National Geographic Channel when a pack of gazelles are peacefully grazing and then rahhhh… a lion rips after them catching the poor little guy in the back who couldn’t keep up. Today, Tony and I are gonna try to run with the front pack, and pray we don’t get picked off like a gimp gazelle by the Po. And just maybe, if we are smart about pit stops and navigating Vegas—this evening’s destination—we can be the first car. You see, that was the deal, Ben would hang back in the Trailblazer one day, while the Harmer and I ran all out. Vegas or bust, baby!
Halfway out of Colorado we are running with the top cars: a Ford GT, a Ferrari 575, an Audi A8, a Lotus Esprit, a Mercedes SL, a Porsche GT3 RS, two Lambo Gallardos and our Corvette ZO6. The needle is stuck above 120mph with bursts to 150mph. The mountainside tunnels rumble as this super-car precession blasts through single file. For the first time on this trip, everything becomes surreal. My original complaint with running an American rally is that, I’m American and have seen most of these roads before, but Colorado is beautiful. The roads for once are not straight and for a few hours the Bullrun is proving that with competent driving, our interstate system can be used like the autobahn.
“Keep it slow out there today,” said another driver when we left Vail this morning “Some Bullrunner in a black Vette left early today and managed to rear-end a state trooper.” But so far the cops have been no problem, thanks to the clairvoyant ability of the lead driver in our pack. Somehow he knows where all the cops are. We slow down to 50mph (70 is the limit) about one mile before the radar trap, and then cruise through with smug smiles and obnoxious waves. As the Brits would say on this trip, it’s smashing.
I am kicking myself right now for not filling up last night. We have traveled 200 miles in less than two hours, but ZO6 needs a drink. I spot some construction ahead hoping it will delay the front group and we pit. As strategic as our stop is, the woman behind the counter is obviously not in the same kind of hurry. Refueled, Tony takes the wheel and tears back on to the interstate. A bunch of cars have passed us, but according to the fuel computer we have 380 miles on this tank, which should get us just outside of Vegas. Time to play catch up!
“That’s the fastest I have actually ever driven a car,” laughs Tony. A quick glance at the speedo says we are doing just under 170mph. I wish I could say it feels silky smooth, but the grooved road pulls the car back and forth. We agree that 130mph is a better cruising speed.
About an hour after we stopped for gas, we pass the front group refueling. Does this mean we are the lead car? Really there is no way to tell, well at least so we thought. The Utah state trooper that catches Tony doing 104 in a 75 is nice enough to tell us that we are the first car he has seen all day. Twenty minutes after sitting on the side of the road, the GT3 RS passes…then another 20 cars. Damn, we only had 200 miles left to go!
Two hours and $350 in bond later, we get back on the road. Oh yeah, Tony got arrested, but the officer sure was a nice guy and actually apologizes for ruining our vacation. Little does he know, this is Tony and I’s nine-to-five. Out of the running we opt to keep it slow, grab some Del Taco and cruise into Vegas… Tony needs a drink.