Date: Tue, 1 Aug 2006 01:22:07 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: The kindness of (drunken) Strangers

We began the morning with a much needed cup ‘o joe, and a sigh of relief at not being harrassed during the night. Setting out for the route to Volgograd, we soon found it necessary to swallow our pride and ask for directions after driving past the same statue thrice. Dom and I
found a Russian officer, who found a bystander to translate and helped us on our way. This would be the first act of kindness on a memorable day.

With the bad colonies duet in the lead, the five car expedition blazed a trail toward V-town alongside endless fields of sunflowers (an odd site). Seth and I compared our crew to a sort of poorly funded UN convoy(United Numbskulls). Heat, hunger, and increasingly poor jokes led us to a truck stop/flea market for much needed sustenance. Soon enough, we were sittin round a table of fried meat, salad, bread, & coffee… a “fiesta” if you will?

With the Scamp’s troubles still a concern, we scanned the market for someone selling car parts. James and Neil went about with their snapped suspension rod, in hopes someone could match the part. A jolly, portly old Russian took an interest in their quest. We all helped, using our best mumbled russian and hand gestures, and actually got the man to understand what we needed amidst endless laughter on both ends. He took to machining a piece of all-thread, hollowing it out in a shower of sparks (no small feat)! He went on to make a whole new suspension rig for the Scamp, the whole time inviting us to join him in yet another feast of some sort of meat mush, bread, and vodka (in the end about 3 bottles worth). Amazingly enough, he refused payment, simply asking us to sit on a bit longer eating pastries and drinking more vodka, laughing at our inabiltity to communicate yet still enjoying our company. Each cars’ driver for today bowed out of the drinking and went off to fix the Sca!
mp, while the rest joined in to polish off a 4th bottle. Vaughn, James, & James#2 took the brunt of the vodka onslaught more in an effort to be polite than anything else, and are all now paying the price as we are back on the bumpy roads. In the end, it was one of those chance encounters that defines a trip like this and reinforces the idea that what matters most is not your destination, but your experiences along the way.

As we said our goodbyes and began to pull away, we ran into yet another rally team. So at least until we get to the next city, our convoy is up to 6. My third day on the rally will not be one I soon forget.

-Pat

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