by Ed Bolian
Dave was a huge proponent of Waze. Waze is a social media navigational application that uses the travel data from other users to modify directional instructions and speed up commute times. It also allows users to report traffic issues, police activity, and other hindrances to progress. He believed this could be all you need to break this record. With enough users ahead it could feed us all of the information that we could need. Of course, the goal of the departure strategy was to minimize interaction with other road users so we were circularly handicapping the usability of this tool. More Waze users equals more traffic. Unfortunately the inevitable trucker traffic has been slow to adopt Waze, clinging to the social interaction and trash talking opportunity of the citizens band radio.
There would clearly be times when the Waze, Google, and Garmin navigational models would differ and we needed to create a protocol for dealing with those instances. Google and Garmin used licensed cell phone data from AT&T to define traffic patterns. Waze was much more advanced (this was prior to the Google acquisition). If it told you there was traffic ahead it was more likely to be correct. That being said, none of the nav systems were configured to understand the way that we were driving. Zig zagging through an industrial park may work well in downtown Atlanta to get around a gas main break but in this style of drive, the anxiety of having no idea where you are headed might end up hurting more than helping.
During the drive North to the start, we had a chance to test this. Waze said there was traffic up ahead while we were in Virginia. Users were going 7-12 mph. It advised us to take an exit, go through a small surface street, make a bunch of turns, run along an access road parallel to the highway for a bit, and then re-enter the highway.
We did. It was crazy. We couldn’t see to turn, the other nav systems were screaming “Recalculating” constantly, and the roads were terrible to speed on. Dave agreed it was best not to accept those types of instructions. Minimizing stress and anxiety was worth a couple of minutes sitting in traffic rather than struggling to find a new way around it. The “keep it simple, stupid” mantra was coming into play.
In addition to spending the days prior to departure lining up people to be in the car with me, I had spent a great deal of time working on something else I thought truly could give us a competitive advantage. I had arranged for a number of people throughout the route to drive ahead of us by 75 to 150 miles. They would be able to give us real time information on weather, traffic, accidents, speed traps, and other issues. The communication would also be a refreshing tie to the world outside of the car. To my knowledge, this was something neither Alex Roy nor Richard Rawlings had done for any considerable portion of their runs. Alex had scouts out of NYC and Richard claimed to have hired a team of limo drivers to block intersections. Both had teammates lead them into Los Angeles. I wanted to take that to the next level.
During the drive up to New York we called the friends we knew along the route to confirm their willingness to serve as spotters for their legs of the trip. Ash Majid was going to see us off from Manhattan. We were going to stage in the temporary parking area in front of his place, use the restroom, brush our teeth, and change clothes there before leaving.
Danny Landoni would leave from the Eastern Pennsylvania border when we left the Red Ball and lead us across the state. I did not know Danny and had only spoken with him on the phone once. He was a friend of Cody Heron who I knew through Lamborghini ownership. At the time Cody had an M5, Ferrari 458, Lamborghini Aventador, and had ordered a Huracan from me. He thought the idea was fantastic but was called away on business so he delegated the task to Danny who proved both extremely capable and excited to take part.
Chris Staschiak was going to leave from the Pennsylvania/West Virginia border and lead us through Ohio. He was still upset to not be riding shotgun but excited to be a part of the action anyway. David Wiggins was going to lead from Columbus on but he got the flu. He had purchased a Ferrari 458, Lamborghini Gallardo LP550-2 Bicolore, and a Lamborghini Murcielago LP670 SuperVeloce from me in the prior years and I was excited to fly by him for once but unfortunately he was unable to join us. Chris ended up continuing through the areas where Wiggins would have been useful.
Tom Greulich, one of the competitors from the 2004 AKA Rally, was going to lead us through Missouri beginning northeast of St Louis. Jules Doty was a friend of Dave’s and would lead us through New Mexico. Nick Reid was scouting out the route into LA but was due in court later Monday morning and was unavailable during the actual arrival.
REMARKS
From Nick Reid, Los Angeles Scout
Ed and I met on a cross-country road rally from New York City, NY to Los Angeles, CA about ten years ago. Both Ed and I used AWD turbo sedans for the journey. Over that week, Ed and I became friends. For years we continued to talk to each other about our similar interests in cars and long trips even though we lived a thousand miles apart.
Eventually Ed would go on to work for Lamborghini and I began producing aftermarket parts for Lamborghinis. We both now own nearly identical Lamborghini's. I have the only Grigio Telesto 6 speed manual Murcielago LP640 they brought to the US. Ed has the only Grigio Telesto 6 speed manual Murcielago LP640 original sent to Canada. The neat part is we both drive our cars often, and drive them long distances, which is uncommon in the exotic car community. Ed and I have a love for road trips.
I called Ed in mid-2013. At that time Ed hinted that he would be attempting the New York to California run and asked if I would be willing to help. I gladly agreed. A few weeks later Ed called and said that within a few hours he would be setting off from New York. Unfortunately I was not able to lead Ed into Los Angeles as planned, but I was able to help confirm Ed's planned route as the most efficient way to the coast and to avoid possible traffic delays.
During the time Ed was coming into Los Angeles I was hoping for the best for him. I had not heard any updates of how their progress was. However, they old saying "no news is good news" was going through my mind. Then it happened, late at night, a text came through from Ed, "we did it." I knew zero details for the run except for the fact that Ed did it on the first try. I was very excited for everyone involved because this was a great feat.
In the coming weeks details of the run were released. Ed was very appreciative of everyone that helped him achieve this great feat. While reading the list of "thank you's" sent by Ed, I noticed that there were many mutual friends from that cross-country rally we attended a decade ago on the list. Ed's dream to set the record from New York to Los Angeles was not only a great feat, but it brought friends together. Friends that have the same common love for road trips. Ed's dream brought us all together again, and unknowingly we all were part of a great record that we will never forget.
Chapter 15
Pulled Over in NYC
We did not intend to set any records driving up to New Jersey that Friday but if we had, we would have been disappointed. Traffic was difficult, we were not communicating very well, we were scared of getting arrested, and the roads were not conducive to the types of speeds we were planning. Even without the concerted effort to average more than ninety it was pretty demoralizing to see the average plummeting well below eighty. I was doing my best not to read too much into it but I was finding myself too easily frustrated with Dave and truly concerned that the outcome of the next day would be quite the joke.
We stopped for dinner in Tyson’s Corner, Virginia at a Maggiano’s Italian restaurant. It was a strange mood at the table. The slow clap of progress to New York was gaining frequency and we were all trying to figure out what 24 hours from then would look like. As we had driven North, Dave and Dan had been able to deepen their understanding of what to expect but their tutelage was coming from me, someone who had no first hand idea of what to expect. The other guys were clearly trying to develop a timed bathroom routine to carry them into the next day.
As I was driving, Dave found a four star hotel on a travel discount site and booked it. It turned out to be the Hyatt in Jersey C
ity, a great hotel beautifully overlooking the Hudson River and Freedom Tower. We got in there around 1:00 AM on Saturday. Dave was not comfortable sharing a room so he booked an extra one. Dan and I stayed in the other one. There was a street level valet. I tipped the attendant $20 and asked him to keep the car out front. That would make it easier for the next afternoon when we would be staging for departure. The valet looked at the car suspiciously and obliged.
I was truly concerned that I would get a call or text message at any moment from Alex Roy. The onset of paranoia was a strange sensation. Being a resident of Manhattan, we were on his home turf. If a car like this, clearly prepared to challenge his record, was cruising around the neighborhood surely there would be acquaintances around town who would alert him to the threat. All of the conversations that I had with Alex were entirely cordial and helpful but I had deliberately avoided telling him which dates we were planning on driving. I did not want to burden him with the moral quandary of sabotage. He, himself had told me that his lawyers forbade him from witnessing any other runs and advised me not to tell him (or anyone) exactly when we would be making the run.
I had gotten us a late checkout so we had enough time to get some rest. I told everyone to try to stay in bed until at least noon. Dan was the only one capable of this. I woke up at around 10:30 and stayed in bed until about 11. I texted Dave. He had been up since 7.
Dave and I went around the corner to a cafe to grab some breakfast. We let Dan keep sleeping. He seemed to have a low caloric intake need anyway. I had the drive plan with me. This was the first time that Dave had seen it. It generally outlined the windows for driver changes, estimated average speeds, and some checkpoint times through major cities and navigational instructions. The goal time remained 30 hours. Dave wrote down 31:04 on a napkin as he tried to visualize the goal. We nibbled at our breakfast and continued to talk about what the drive might feel like. That was the least knowable facet of the endeavor and I felt very much like a commander leading the crew into battle with only a slightly better vantage point than they enjoyed.
I picked up a couple of bottled fruit juice smoothies to drink along the way. Of course they were $5 each in this cafe/convenience store rather than $2 at home but I was happy knowing that I had at least 1,500 perishable calories to enjoy throughout the drive as I supplemented the nutrition bars I had planned. I remembered the manifest of Brock Yates’s Moon Trash Van with sandwiches, apples, and regular food. Other Cannonballers had set off laden with traditional Italian home cooking. The dichotomy between those trips and what we were about to embark on began to stand in stark contrast. It was not one-upmanship that had gotten me to this point of preparation and theory but instead it was the constantly pioneering spirit of gearheads and modern day explorers making intrepid steps to improve the time.
Given the margins of improvement through history we all agreed that there were significant gains still to be had. The uncontrollable variables clearly came into play.
197140:51 Smith/Williams/Yates/Yates JrDodge Sportsman Van
197135:54Yates/GurneyFerrari 365 Daytona
197535:53May/ClineFerrari Dino 246 GTS
197932:51 Heinz/YarboroughJaguar XJS
198332:07Diem/TurnerFerrari 308 GTS
200731:59Rawlings/CollinsFerrari 550 Maranello
200631:04Roy/Maher/WellesBMW M5
The margins of improvement had been huge. Alex blamed a short storm and traffic in New Mexico for at least a thirty-minute delay. The cross country drive contained so many individual problems to address and a contestant truly had to conquer them all to be in contention. We had the car, we had the drivers, we had the gear, but would we have the luck? The time to pull the arm of the mythical slot machine was nearing.
Dave and I walked back to the hotel and woke Dan up. We checked out of the rooms and got the supplies generally arranged in the car. I called Ash to tell him that we were headed his way. The plan was to scope out the Red Ball and evaluate the best route out of the city. Roy and Rawlings had used the Holland Tunnel. I also wanted to look at the New York Classic Car Club location that Alex Roy had left from to see how much of an advantage that seemed to be. At this point, Dave did not have an appreciation of the emotional significance of the Red Ball to the record so he was interested in the fastest way out that would give us the best chance of breaking any record.
I had driven in Manhattan four times and generally found it to flow well, stay busy but progressive, and remain fairly manageable as long as you were confident and kept moving forward in the same spirit as the taxi drivers around you. That was not the case that Saturday. It was absolutely nuts. We made it to the Red Ball to find the entire stretch of E 31st Street torn to pieces in a repaving project. Based on the signs and work patterns it looked like the road might actually be closed at the first intersection that we would have to go through. We met with Ash and talked for a few minutes about strategy. He had left his Laguna Seca Blue E46 M3 in Atlanta and used the Subway to get to work so his experience driving in area was fairly limited.
I asked the attendant at the Red Ball garage if he ever had anyone show up there mentioning Cannonball in cars looking like ours with extra screens inside and antennas mounted to the trunks. He said, “No,” and looked at me like I was a proper moron.
We saddled up and made an exit. We simulated resetting all of the trip data on the car and GPS systems. We started the timers and made our way out of the parking garage which was quite the flurry of button pressing. Following the GPS advice and the drive plan that I had previously formulated I piloted us away to a wider, theoretically faster moving, cross street. It wasn’t. We sat and sat. The navigational instructions were tough to understand and Dave knee-jerked to Waze to attempt a re-route.
We finally got to the Lincoln tunnel and could see the entrance to it. Dave saw that Waze said a quick Left-Right-Right-Left would bypass the standstill ahead. Reluctantly I agreed to try it. I made the left only to hit another jam. I got to the front and made a right through the red light. That was against the rules in Manhattan and the cop who happened to be right behind me decided to bring it to my attention.
He popped on his lights and pulled me over. The road I turned onto as I obliged the arrest immediately split. The right looked like a parking lot so I chose the left. It was a one way street and I had led this cop down it going the wrong way. It would have been perilous if there were any cars coming. Fortunately, there were not and I was able to turn around and return to the proper direction of traffic flow with the surely dumbfounded cop close behind me.
Dave felt bad. I felt mad. Dan feared for his own safety. The cop was fairly baffled by the whole thing. He walked up to the car and asked for my license and insurance. You do not have to carry a valid insurance card in Georgia since all records are stored in a government accessible system based on your driver’s license. That means that the one occupying my wallet happened to be a few renewal cycles expired. I offered it and he was not impressed. Somehow he managed not to ask about the wheel in the back with Dan, antennas on the decklid, and additional screens in the cockpit. I think he had already categorized us into some not-from-around-here idiots who would have been wearing aluminum foil helmets if they didn’t impede our vision for driving. I did everything I could to apologetically reinforce that deduction. He agreed to let me off with a warning and gave me a lot of space to go about my way.
I expressed my displeasure with Dave and offered a stern warning that if he consulted Waze again between now and our arrival in Redondo Beach I would jettison his phone from the car. Dan was the only person with permission to use Waze for navigational purposes. Both accepted this new operational reality.
The labor pains finally ceased as we birthed ourselves from Manhattan via the Lincoln Tunnel and navigated our way through the interchanges that got us onto the Jersey Turnpike/78. Well, almost. Dave was defending his actions and I was being crass and insulting so we both managed to miss the navigational inst
ruction for the turn. It took us thirty minutes to get back on track.
We had clearly missed the boat on this exit strategy. We went back into the city and decided we should try to find the New York Classic Car Club. There are two of them. We went to the wrong one. It was clearly not an advantage so we left and ruled that out. The one that we did not go to was the one that Alex used, further research showed. It would have been easier and likely tempting as our navigational confidence waned so it was a good thing we did not figure that out.
We thought about Times Square. It was iconic and eliminated about half of the driving distance on the island of Manhattan. If one were starting an event today that was the logical place to begin. The AKA Rally, GoldRush, and Gumball had done that in their visits to NYC.
Ultimately we resolved the original decision of the Red Ball still made the most sense. If we happened to fall short by less than twenty minutes perhaps we could beat ourselves up for it but we hoped it would not be the case. I decided if we could make it out of the city in less than twenty minutes it would be worth continuing. Anything longer and we could circle back and restart. I had never discussed the restarting strategy with anyone else but I thought it made sense. I also decided based on the fact that 31st eventually ran into the Lincoln Tunnel it would be best for us to simply endure the slower movement on that road and stay relaxed than to weave around searching for a few seconds here or there.
Upon coming to that decision I needed to get out of the city. We needed to gas up and after driving around Manhattan for two and half hours I needed to rest, decompress mentally, and be still for a little while. We drove off of the island and into New Jersey, followed the route to 78 and found an exit. It was getting into middle-of-nowhere zone so the only reasonable eating establishment we could find was a TGI Fridays.