Dispatch: Seven Miles High

This great land passed in a blur of competition as beautiful, finely tuned automobiles filled with amazing competitors turned heads, brought squeals of laughter from little children and drew crowds wherever we happened to pass or park. The caravan of Lamborghinis, Corvettes, Camaros, and other exotic cars domestic and foreign, futuristic and ancient became the sole focus of our lives as we gamed our way to the finish line in little Galena, IL.

The past eight days have been so intensely focused upon the moment that the real world seemingly ceased to exist. That president Obama’s Chief of Staff resigned meant nothing when compared to completing the next bonus round before the competition. My hometown Giants seem headed to the National League Championship playoffs, but that is insignificant when one is seeking “the future birthplace of Captain James P. Kirk”. I felt extreme exhilaration as my beautiful green Camaro regularly topped 100 mph and my partners and I became dependent upon each other to make our marks, out strategize the competition, and be as close as possible to the top of the leader board when we put our keys in our pockets and walked away from overworked automobiles at the end of each day.

In retrospect, it is amazing that there weren’t more mishaps. Some of the teams got tickets, but nobody was caught driving in excess of 95 mph. There was only one flat tire, one altercation that nearly came to blows, and no accidents. When the Back to the Future DeLoreon broke down with no spare parts available, the Green Hornet and Doc Harmony got a trailer and pulled them with their Excursion for two days until we got to Cedar Rapids where parts had been shipped. The competition remained at a high level as we put 2,800 miles on the odometer. Cheating and poor sportsmanship were at a minimum.

I was afraid that I would be sitting in a car for 8 to 10 hours every day digesting fatty food, without an opportunity to exercise. However, as my aching body will attest, I did more running and climbing these past days than I have engaged in many, many years. The food was cheap and unappetizing so I was able to control my diet without consciously trying. If I don’t see another hamburger, pulled pork sandwich, tub of potato salad, pot of beans or brick of scrambled eggs for 6 months I will be a happy man.

If one is going to be truly competitive in the Fireball Run one needs physical training, viable preliminary research, a friend with a cell phone at a computer or constant internet connectivity, a GPS tracking device, a good car, and some good fortune. Although Team Polly neither won nor placed near the top my good fortune came in the form of a beautiful Camaro that was loaned to me by General Motors and the two men who rode with me and were my partners at different times during the competition.

I have never before spent this much time away from Violet during the 26 years that we have been together. I can hardly wait to see her at the airport later this evening.

Dispatch: Galena, IL

Who am I, how did I get here and what am I doing? My sense of normalcy feels stripped away. It’s as if crossing American at between 80 – 120 mph has blurred more than my peripheral vision. I arrived at the Fireball Run without expectation, but leave with a honed sense of competition, companionship, and camaraderie. I’ve learned lessons in trust, teamwork and tolerance. In doing so I believe that I have reconnected with a primal instinct.

The only real competition today was the drag races. Well, if you call watching Ron and Diane’s red Diablo disappear down the track as if I were sitting still competition. Ah well, I still hit 91.4 mph which I think is awesome for a quarter mile. On my second run I got my revenge on Kenny Greene’s Smart Car.  

With family business completed John joined me for the last day of the Fireball Run in picturesque Galena, IL. It was good to see him again. Together we drove downtown where the city pulled out all of the stops. Hundreds, if not thousands, gathered for one last look at the fabulous lineup of exotic, erotic foreign and domestic automobiles. It didn’t hurt that we were competing in the same space for the local Oktoberfest celebration, or that the two eventually blended.

Our final party was yet another hors d'oeuvre buffet. That surprised me because I thought that JJ would pull out all of the stops and ensure that our final impression was satisfying and memorable. Finally, awards real and imagined were distributed. It was great fun and I believe that whether you came in first or last, in the final analysis we were all winners.

Dispatch: Cedar Rapids, IA

As soon as I opened my eyes this morning it hit me like an out of control 18-wheeler. Polly was kidnapped exactly 17 years ago. That I live with this knowledge daily does not make the arrival of this anniversary any easier. For the first decade after her death I began a regimen of Xanax, a drug used to treat anxiety disorders, panic disorders, and anxiety caused by depression, on October 1 and maintained my drug therapy through her birthday on January 3. I don’t do that anymore though, because I have hardened myself to grim reality. However, this is the first year that I have been without Violet.

This morning Natalie asked for a moment of silence for Polly and the other missing children that are represented in the 2010 Fireball Run. I was touched by her sensitivity and the immediate response from so many of my new friends. Many hugged me; others spoke softly of their regret. All in all, it was a touching moment that I will long remember and a good way to begin another day of the high speed lunacy that my life has recently become. I don’t know if life is a board game, but this week at least the USA is our game board.

The Fireball Run one is all about living in the moment. The real world, with all of its issues and problems, exists in a 120 mph blur that receives no consideration. The only purpose is to solve the next challenge, achieve the next bonus and arrive at the finish line with more points than the competition. It is a microcosm that promotes teamwork. The driver depends upon his/her teammate to solve puzzles and navigate to the next challenge, and the navigator depends upon his/her partner to get there ahead of the clock. Fortunately, both of my teammates were great guys who were up to the task.

The Cedar Rapid reception, which was held in the art museum, happened after we checked into the Crown Plaza. The good news is that it gave us a chance to clean up. The bad news is that the extra time forced me to reflect. When Natalie asked me to speak at the well attended party I could only speak from my heart. ““As many of you know, this is a very difficult day for me. It was 17 years ago that my daughter Polly was kidnapped and murdered she would be Natalie’s age now. I used to resort to prescription drugs as this anniversary approached. For a decade Xanax was my best friend until after Polly’s birthday on January 3.”

“But I don’t do that anymore. My life has improved immensely. I have been fortunate to be surrounded by a great support system and an even greater wife. Together we have learned to love life again, because that is what Polly would want. We have worked to make America safer for children in her name. However, this is the first time I have been by myself on this horrible day. I thought that I would feel lonely and pitiful. Instead, because I am surrounded by the love of new friends I feel empowered and protected. Your words have been heartfelt; your hugs have been comforting. Since I cannot be home tonight, I am glad that I am with all of you. Thank you for your time.”

Dispatch: Chesterfield, MO

Another hurry up and wait morning at Ed Bozarth Chevrolet. JJ is producing and directing a Fireball Run documentary for next year, so every morning, regardless of where we are, we parrot a familiar theme. The Legendary Ron Seggi, otherwise known as the Johnny Carson of radio, holding his surgically attached stick mike in his right hand, dapper in his red blazer and shiny shoes, thanks the local mayor and chamber of commerce for hosting the event. We take a group picture after which Ron repeats familiar formalities and concludes with, “FIREBALLER’S GO TO Y0UR CARS.”

Our Cliff Notes tour of America began with a 30 second visit to the Harry Truman Presidential Library, followed by a similar visit to take a picture of 200 year old hair at the hair museum. Nasty business that! In Marshall, MO we had a lunch in a charming little town square built to honor Jim the Wonder Dog. Jim was famous for predicting things, kind of like the World Cup squid and the tic-tac-toe playing chicken.

For some of us the competition has become secondary, and this afternoon a group of us decided forego time for culture. Our final challenge of the day was to locate and tour the studio of a world famous American sculptor. We were greeted by Don Wiegand, whose work is on display all over the world and who lives and works in a magical studio near St. Louis.  He lovingly restored and converted a 19^th century slaughterhouse into a home/studio that he makes available to the public. I am going to try to make time to return to Mr. Wiegand’s home with my KlaasKids team when we converge upon St. Louis in two weeks time.

My friend Don Levin met me at our finish line at St. Louis Motor Sports this afternoon. He only stayed around for about half an hour, but it was good to see a familiar face. During my brief speech I talked about domestic sex trafficking and could tell that my audience was flabbergasted by the statistics that I provided. I hope that they are getting something out of this and that I am not bringing them all down after a day of fierce competition.

Afterwards I went to a nice Italian restaurant with Valentino and some other Lamborghini enthusiasts. One man in our party explained why he buys and drives insanely expensive and fiercely competitive cars. “Having a fine car on the road is like having a beautiful woman in your bed. You don’t look at a beautiful woman and pat her down with towels. Instead, you put her through her paces, take her deep and satisfy your lust. Similarly, on the highway you should put a great car through its paces. Drive it fast, gear it often, and savor you good fortune.” Oh, and the food was good too.

Dispatch: Topeka, KS

Another day of thrills and spills as the Fireball Run races across the USA. We spent an hour at a manufacturing plant and thirty seconds at the Eisenhower Presidential Museum. Nice statue!  At Heartland Park speedway in Topeka I rode in a special edition Lamborghini on the track and at dinner I talked about the changes that have occurred since Polly’s tragedy.

I broke in my new partner today. In January 2005, Rob McConnell’s two year old daughter Bianca Vaminik was kidnapped by her non-custodial mother Eva Vamanik and taken to Indonesia. He hasn’t spoken to Bianca since. In those few times that Eva contacts Rob she goads him about not sending presents to his daughter, but she refuses to provide an address. The FBI told Rob that if he can convince the mom to return to the United States they will serve her with an International Parental Kidnapping warrant. The high end penalty for international abduction is less than that for illegally copying a DVD. To that end Rob has resorted to using social networking to locate Bianca and her non-custodial mom somewhere amongst a population of 245,452,739 people.

This morning we staged at the Dodge City Speedway and raced school busses around the oval track. The bus I drove wasn’t nearly as fast as Valentino Balboni’s screaming orange Lambo. Valentino is a Lamborghini legend who has been with his company for more than 40-years. He personally test drives every Lambo that leaves the factory in the small Italian township of Sant’Agata Bolognese.  Valentino was calm, cool and collected as he screeched around corners and unloaded on the straight-aways at Topeka’s Heartland Park at speeds exceeding 175 mph. I may have put his consul in a white knuckle grip, but I have to admit that it was the most thrilling ten minutes of my life.

One of our challenges today was to take a picture at the Atomic Cannon. At 83-tons with an 84-foot barrel and a range of 20-miles, the Atomic Cannon was developed in the 1950’s to fire an Atomic artillery shell. Who comes up with this stuff, and did somebody really think that was a good idea?

Our evening reception was at Ed Bozarth Chevrolet in Topeka, Kansas. I talked about the changes that have occurred since Polly’s tragedy. I figure that I need to provide new, good information every evening as part, albeit a small part, of the reason the Fireballer’s signed up to learn about this issue of my life. After we checked into our hotel we hung around the Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka RV sipping bourbon and winding down from an intense day of competition.

Dispatch: Dodge City, KS

Death Race 2010 is upon us. Moments after leaving Lubbock this morning, John received the dreaded news that his mother-in-law had died at 2:00am. He knew that it was imminent and had spent hours the day before consoling Meredith as she helplessly watched her beloved mother weaken and then finally succumb to the ovarian cancer that she had battled courageously for the past eight months.

I put our assignments back into the envelope and drove John to the Amarillo International Airport, where his secretary Caroline had booked a flight so that John could return to his family. Instead of rejoining the game, I drove to our hotel in Kansas City, thinking about my own father’s fragile health. When I called to tell him that I loved him my mom explained that he had checked into the Intensive Care Unit at Monterey Community Hospital earlier that morning. My dad has been spending too much time in the ICU lately.

A State Trooper pulled in behind me right after crossing the border into Oklahoma. I checked my speed, made sure that I was not exceeding the limit and maintained a steady pace as the trooper followed closely. By the time he turned off 30-minutes later I was ready to pull over to the side of the road, raise my hands and throw myself at his mercy.

Tired of eating too many burgers and beans I went to a Mexican Restaurant run by Mexican’s after I arrived in Dodge City. Mistake! That was some of the nastiest shit that I have eaten in some time. Speaking of shit, when I mentioned that Dodge City smelled like shit I was told, “No, it smells like livestock.” I think that livestock is a sanitized definition of shit.

We ate dinner at Dodge City’s Boot Hill where they served quesadillas and fried rocky mountain oysters. I declined several offers.

I told the Fireballer’s why John had left the competition and many if not most of them expressed their condolence and prayers. Things will not be the same without him, but if any trip is truly predictable, it’s not really an adventure after all is it? I hope that John will be able to rejoin the rally when we arrive in Galena, IL on Saturday.

Dispatch: Lubbock, TX

The State Troopers who escorted us out of Gallup, NM stayed with us for a couple of hours. When they finally waved our caravan on we were traveling somewhere beyond 100 mph. I have no expectation that I will receive such a friendly gesture the next time a State Trooper catches me traveling somewhere on the far side of 100 mph. I drove the Camaro today and John and I won this phase of the Fireball Run. We were greeted by city officials and other well wishers at the Overton Hotel, our check in point. One of our missions was to purchase non perishable food items for a local food bank. I believe that more than 3,500 items were ultimately tallied up.

If I were to do another road rally, I would definitely put in some serious training. The competition gets frenzied and exhausting the closer we get to the finish line each day, with competitors foot racing to various check points and upon completion of bonus adventures. This friendly but fierce competition is where the real fun is. Certain vehicles seem to always be on the leader board and it is becoming apparent who the eventual winners are going to be. Hopefully, John and I will make the cut.

This part of America tends to be flat and the roads seem to extend beyond the horizon. The Lamborghinis take advantage of this opportunity to open up their throttles. They are awe inspiring as they leave our lesser vehicles in their dust. Makes you wonder why the first five cars to the finish line today were three Camaro’s, one Vette and a rented Dodge Charger.

It was not a good night. JJ and I got into it yet again and seem to be as compatible as oil and water. I doubt that KlaasKids will participate in the next Fireball Run. Hopefully, things will tone down as we move deeper into the competition. I know that he is trying very hard, but believe that his organization is understaffed, leaving too many details unattended.

Seriously, why are the American cars running circles against million dollar Lamborghinis? Has the quality of the American automobile evolved so quickly? I know that our stock Camaro is a beautiful machine that has an unsurpassed head turning capability.