Mongol Rally 2013 part 2

Six months ago I was still feverishly plotting on the 2013 Mongol Rally, scribbling on notebooks, toying with routes in google maps, drafting solicitation letters, researching charities, learning Russian using Rosetta Stone and of course sending prying emails to the Adventurists.  Helpful as they were, they did feel compelled to temper my enthusiasm by advising that I cease some of my efforts until I had actually registered.  I sulked a bit and, faced with a diminished workload for the rally, eventually fell back to the distractions of my fruitless pursuit of a doctorate and an ongoing feud with my neighbor and the city of New Orleans. 

After that little pep talk from the Adventurists the momentum behind my planning for the rally slowed significantly.  That’s not to say the potential wasn’t still there because it most certainly was, it’s just that I had to get the ball rolling all over again later on.  I should have ignored the Adventurists entirely and just gone about my business.  Since I did not, I again had problems rather than cherished projects occupying my time, problems I had been quite content to ignore when I had such a pleasant distraction as planning a trans-Asia expedition.  Lesson learned.  If the last six months have taught me anything it’s that you need pleasant distractions.

A very long story short, months passed and by June I’d managed to sell my house in New Orleans at a comfortable profit and make the move to Colorado for a new job.  This job, as I admit that I am not an advocate for work in the professional sense, was a necessary evil in this entire yearlong scheming process.  Employment with an oilfield service company is something akin to seasonal work, like picking fruit or logging, only far more lucrative.  It’s a crude but effective way for a transient like myself to acquire an income, and a damn good one, without being chained to a career.  The last thing I want or need is a career, as I’d much rather be in a position to make changes and careers make that exceedingly difficult.  Having spent years in college and working a variety of jobs without much improvement to my personal life I figure it’s time to concentrate on something else, and job aside that’s exactly why I’m doing things like the Mototaxi Junket and the Mongol Rally.

Seemingly out of the blue I get an email informing me of a post on a long since forgotten blog entry on the rally, the one preceding this post in fact.  By now my teammate and myself were registered for this year’s Mototaxi Junket and thus preoccupied with our trip to Peru.  Our original third teammate for the Rally had dropped out months earlier and given it was still more than a year away our attention was focused elsewhere.  As luck would have it that post was from a very well traveled, adventurous and, as I’ve come to find out, thoroughly awesome young woman asking for a spot on our rally team.  Initially two things went through my mind, the first being “what planetary alignment caused this to happen, I didn’t know anyone actually read this stuff!?” – the second was a mixture of shame and panic as I realized I had neglected to keep up with the registration process (not to mention my blog which already has very limited readership- thank you, Lisa) and thus may have jeopardized the whole Rally scheme.  I’d been told registration could get very competitive, so I was fearful we couldn’t snag a spot.  After shrugging that off as a possibility I couldn’t effectively address at that point in time I at least responded to the inquiry.  We still had something like a month to register, cash in hand to pay the fee, three people now interested and what I could only assume was a much greater chance of success given how much my own situation had changed since January.  That response paid off, and as of now we have secured a spot on the 2013 Mongol Rally with a compliment of three willing and enthusiastic travelers. 

Following this blog I intend to provide some sort of haphazard breakdown of the planning process, more information on fund-raising initiatives and equipment as we come together as a team and begin serious plotting for the Rally.  I assume I’ve troubled you enough with personal details and will henceforth make an effort to provide more useful information, like what I had for breakfast and so on.

The Mongol Rally in 2013 - The initial decision

It started with the words “you’ve been drafted”.  Actually the message I woke to sometime on the afternoon of December 6^th began with “wake your ass up!” and was followed by some obscure internet link, posted rather enthusiastically by a very good friend of mine.  The fact that I had been drafted for whatever activity this link pertained to clearly indicated he was up to no good and in need of a co-conspirator.  In the past he had forwarded similar messages; website links pertaining to things like hellish 10-mile obstacle courses passing through fetid swamps, across pits filled with white-hot coals and ending somewhere after participants negotiated moats brimming with alligators, which he knows I despise.  This particular link seemed more benign as the title “Mongol Rally” betrayed no indication of the kind of physical exertion one would require to escape the jaws of mindless, bloodthirsty crocodilians.  I liked that.  The word “rally”, however, gave me pause as I’m not prone to activities that qualify as rally-like, save for a few involving sleep deprivation, drinking and playing games of skill while sleep deprived and drinking.  Regardless, I was willing to hear him out, especially to see what this thing had to do with Mongols.

Following an investigation that involved my reading perhaps a paragraphs worth of information on the Mongol Rally website, and knowing a good thing when I saw it, my response was something like “holy shit, this is the best idea I’ve ever heard!”  I cheerfully announced my willingness to participate without giving it a second thought.  About ten minutes later, fearing he may quiz me on the details to ascertain my exact level of sincerity and commitment, I scoured the website more thoroughly and felt my eyes growing wide, my jaw drop, all the while muttering approving obscenities to myself and to the computer screen.  Perhaps you know the feeling, when a plan so unconventional, so ingenious just casually presents itself to you one day, well it’s as if some mysterious stranger has just shared with you the blueprints of an international jewel heist.  Or perhaps its like your favorite celebrity casually calling to inform you that she'll arrive promptly at 7pm to disrobe for your amusement.  For me, that kind of excitement often stems from travel schemes.  And this wasn’t just any travel scheme, it was a combination of at least a half-dozen brazen activities that my friend, Sledge, or myself had perhaps conceived at one point or another but, and this is important, had failed to pursue for a variety of reasons… none of which being our fault, of course.  Fortunately we both seemed to be in a state of flux and in a strong position to get the ball rolling this time.  And so we did.

There is a bit of background regarding my decision, and I feel it’s important to mention if only from a literary standpoint.  A convenient fascination with the Mongols actually began just a few months prior to my knowing anything at all about the rally.  As a grad student I often lock myself in my office and attempt to complete a variety of tasks I have been working on endlessly for many months with varying degrees of failure.  In reality, I pass the time in this closet-sized room largely to avoid the department’s more socially inept grad student and his bizarre experimentations with laboratory fashion accessories, dry ice, physical boundaries delineating personal space, intrusiveness, and last but not least his shrill, pubescent voice.  What does this have to do with the Mongols, you may ask?  Wikipedia.  Whatever random encyclopedic subject entered my brain as I hid quietly under my desk, I would then search for and read about.  This is actually a great way to train your brain for bar trivia, but I digress.  Searching who-knows-what one day the links embedded in previous articles brought me to the subject of Hulegu, the Mongol general who sacked Baghdad.  As I read I strained to imagine what the world was like during the Mongol conquests and gradually acquired the sense that it was universally unpleasant for everyone but the Mongols.  Steadily I researched all of the great Khans, and even made a foray into the history of the Huns.  Nearly all information on the latter was unflattering, but of the Mongols much could be said both in terms of their benefit to the world as well as the destruction they wrought.  My fascination with these people continues to grow.  I find it peculiar, and perhaps a little alarming, that the Asian equivalent of North Dakota once harbored a people who managed to so thoroughly conquer and brutally subjugate most of the known world over a relatively short period of time.  I’ve been to North Dakota, spent the better part of nine months working there, and have since come to the conclusion that they are probably just as capable of the same feat of accomplishment.  Considering their Norse bloodline, the quality of their hockey teams and the state’s healthy economic situation I think we should all be very wary of developments in the Dakotas.