Tale Of The Gnu, 2010

4/12/2010

Imagine life as a water molecule. 

Sometimes, you're vapor, soaring on the winds, free, never tied to your mates. Yesterday, you were valley fog in the Kootenay Mountains, moving slower than molasses, swaying as steady as a metronome. Tomorrow, you'll be the leading edge of a Mare's Tail cloud, ten km up, moving at a hundred per, overflying three states in the course of an afternoon. Everywhere you go, you're part of a horde of millions of molecules. Even so, after a while, the gaseous form gets lonesome. You never really connect with others, ya know?


If the isolation gets to be a drag, no worries; just condense. When you've become part of a droplet, you've joined a little gang. 'Course, everybody in the gang will think they're the leader -- whatever. You can lay cool, chillin', on the frond of a fern -- just hanging out -- or head to a big party, and pour into a river. A river! Exciting, especially if it's one that's hard chargin'. It's confrontation time! We and the rocks, we got to rumble; and those dopes are gonna get the worst of it. Who'se got more juice, rock, you or us? Hit 'im, Stan! I got your back. Now you're part of a team... almost. See, the fast-and-loose nature of liquid form means you're never sure who's in front, who's behind, and where are we, anyway? You belong, all right; but to what? 

Once you feel that doubt, and face that question, it's a short path to military service. 

Or, perhaps, to the water equivalent of the services: your crystal form. Talk about knowing where you are, and who's supporting you, and depending on you; life as ice is as rigid as you'll ever know. Social mobility is an oxymoron. You do what you do, you stay where and who you are, day after day, week after week, month after month... and if you've landed in a glacier, it could be century after century. 

Think about that; all you wanted was a sense of stability, a few moments where the world around you wasn't in turmoil, just one morning where you didn't start the day by meeting new neighbors -- but you went and joined a glacier. Hope you like the dudes you're in the glacier with, you're gonna be there a while.

But the sun cycles, and the glaciers proceed, and eventually you'll break away again. And now... what result, when you're finally released? Once you are again mobile, after 10,000 sun-cycles looking at the same rock wall, hearing the same insipid knock-knock jokes from your glacier-mates? You might want to cut loose a little, no? The increased elbow room would have you feeling like a new molecule; a little rash, a bit dangerous, quick to laugh, but with an edge. There're be a hint, not of danger, but of recklessness about you.

You'd be feeling
"like a new water molecule"
"like a Gnu water molecule".

That little intro explains a lot about the roads on The Trail Of The Gnu, 2010. Most of us ralliers were predicting those roads would be full-sheathed in ice and snow. Not at all; instead, the roads were crowded with the most unruly and rambunctious kind of water molecules: water from freshly melted ice. Hoo-boy, when the ice melts, the loosed water gets craaazzzzyyyy. It's like Spring Break in Florida.

There were big, big pools of standing water, but even more treacherous, sometimes the freshmelt would team up with its old buddy, its distant cousin and ancient elemental relative, clay. And when those two get together out in the woods, you know there's gonna be some shenanigans. Gravity and landforms concentrate the mixture, and when the intersections lay just right...

The road approaching the turn is slick with slippery mud, and the road out of the turn? You can't see it? Look further ahead, past this plowed field. Ah, there's the road, on the other side of... the Rocky Mountain version of a sippy hole. Forget about sneaking around the edges, the mud soup's overflowing on both sides past the fences. You could try creeping through it, but if you bog down, yeech, you're gonna have to step out into that. Best just to blast through it. And that's just what the waiting mud is hoping for.

Ka-blooey! Hard on the gas in second gear, coming in at a 30 degree angle, the air dam and skid plate touch the mucky goo first. A sheaf of slurry, thick as wet concrete, curls back on itself as the blade of the bumper turns it forward. Kinetic energy saps away through every surface touching the pool. Speed plummets, the motor bogs, and, dropping to first gear, you crawl forward toward the shore... aiiyyii, now it's bogging in first! Panic! Floor it! All driven wheels start throwing chunky roostertails of goop. It's a carnival ride for the water.

If you can keep crawling forward, eventually the nose rises, and you're through it. We heard some 2WD teams had to make a couple runs at it. Now, this being rallying, can you guess where the control was?

Trail Of the Gnu 2010 was a treat for Marvin and me. We felt warm hospitality from the organizers and local club members; we got to see folks that'd run the Winter Alcan with us in '08; our mechanical troubles were slight, and happened off the clock; and, sure, we finished well. But it was no cakewalk. Had traffic in the sippy hole not delayed Kevin & Marcel, our tie with them on Leg 1 suggests that the overall win could easily have gone to a CALC car. 

As rallyists, we enjoyed the tidy route, smooth organization, and quick scoring. Gorgeous scenery and good driving weather sort-of paid for the huge transits to and from Rocky Mountain House (1200 km on Friday, 1500 km on Sunday). I've been quietly smiling this past week, and when Renee asks why, I just point to the Gnu trophy. We had a great time... as did the water molecules.

--
Marinus Damm