Bullrun 2005 & Gumball 2004
Bullrun 2005 is starting in Los Angeles on April 29th. They will be looping through San Francisco and Aspen. It should be great fun, but something tells me getting out of Los Angeles on a Friday night will be hell. Maybe we can have police helicopters trying to chase us down much like the Las Vegas to Los Angeles run from a few years back. The entire run will be filmed and rumor has it that parts will be shown on MTV.
On a serious note, I’d like to do one more rally before starting rotations in September. Maybe there will be something between July 4th and September 2nd which I haven’t heard about yet. Otherwise, it’s off to Europe for me.
Thought I’d post this letter for your enjoyment… where is my registration form?
To: All Gumballers
From: Gumball Headquarters
Dear Gumball Fans,
These past few weeks since the rally have been as fast paced and crazy as the event itself. With the Gumball spreading its Empire building wings, over the coming months look out for the ‘Gumball’ clothing range in only the coolest boutique stores around the world, along with more books hitting the shelves, and the ‘Movie’ getting the Hollywood treatment prior to its global release this is going to one BIG year. We are currently being bombarded with requests from both media, fans and Gumballers across the world requesting info on next years rally. So here is it, no we’re not going to Dubai as I mentioned in Cannes, that was just to see your reaction!
Having last started the rally in London in 2001, with the notorious ‘Jackass’ rally to Russia, the time has come for England to have a proper taste of the Gumball once more, and so the chequered flag will drop in London before embarking on the most scenic and romantic 3000 miles we’ve ever done. We’ll pass through 9 countries, through Europe’s most romantic and beautiful cities of Prague, Vienna and Budapest, before travelling the length of Croatia (Europe’s undiscovered amazingly beautiful country), before lapping the Island of Sicily driving the same route as the famous historic ‘Targa Florio’ race where Porsche gained their fame in the late 1960s, as well as following a section of Italy’s Millie Miglia to Rome, before finishing at the ultimate destination of Monaco on the Saturday night of the Grand Prix weekend. This will be the ultimate finish party, and after partying the night away everyone will watch the F1 race on the Sunday afternoon from our very own Gumball Grandstand. This is one amazing 3000 miles, just imagine finishing at the Grand Prix, Gumball will take over Monaco - F1 will never be the same again!
So if that doesn’t wet your appetite enough to sell the family jewels and start putting down monthly payments on that ‘Gumball’ customised Lamborghini, Bugatti or Saleen S7 then I don’t know what will? Or perhaps you are more inclined to follow the 2004 ‘Spirit of the Gumball’ winners in their Citroen 2CV! The choice is yours…
All you’ve got to do is to go the the website www.gumball3000.com and complete the application form on the 2005 Rally section at the bottom of the boring legals (the standard Terms & Conditions). If you application is successfull we will contact you with a secret password to access the entry form. If you have previously applied, we still have your details but there is no harm in applying again to ensure that the all the details for you and your car are up to date.
Apart from that, look out for the massively anticipated ‘Movie Premiere’ of this years rally directed by Ruben Fleischer. We’ll keep you updated of the ‘Premiere’ date soon enough, and in the meantime for those of you based in Europe the 6-part Gumball TV series begins on Sunday July 11th at 8:30PM on Extreme Sports Channel and runs for 6 weeks with repeats each Saturday (this will also be on networks across the globe later in the year).
Best regards,
Maximillion Cooper
Founder & Creator
Gumball3000
http://www.gumball3000.com
Here are some pictures from this past year’s Supercar Rally:
Probably the best news so far for Gumball 2005 is that SportEvo has enrolled his SLR. He also happens to have one of the best collections of cars I have seen in recent times.
The latest rumor says the mayor of Brussels has forbidden Gumball to pass through his town. He isn’t stopping there, he is asking the mayors of other towns to follow suit. I can’t blame him because who would want some of the world’s fastest and beautiful sports cars flying through a town at close to 200 miles per hour? LOL
Here is a story from last year’s Gumball. It was a great tale and I have some videos from the crash in Morocco that I’ll post once I find them.
DAY 0
It’s 12noon and we’re 50km from Paris. Months of work and truck loads of cash have been thrown at our cars in order to get them ready. Martin’s new engine is kicking out over 600bhp on full boost he’s wearing a knowing grin that says “I don’t care how much your Lambo cost, you’re still gonna get your ass kicked by an Escortâ€?. The Skybus is running slightly less power, but we don’t care cos it’s pretty warm in Africa and we’ve got air con!
We navigate our way around the Arc de Chaos and onto the Champs Elysses. Our sat nav indicates we’re 500m from our destination and tells us to take the next right into Avenue George V.
In France, Skylines and Escort Cossies are rarer than rocking horse 5hit, so when two highly modified and multi-coloured examples turn up outside the swankiest hotel in Paris (George V) there’s a fair bit of fuss from the assembled press and locals. After porters wheeled our bags away I gave the Skyline six grand, drop the clutch and did a crowd-pleasing launch before jumping back on the brakes at the end of the road. Martin does the same; rockets forwards, then BANG. “The gearbox is destroyedâ€? comes over our walkie-talkie. “Wounderâ€?.
Martin’s call to the UK goes something like this: “Hi guys. We’ve blown the Escort ‘box. We need you to drop everything, get over to my workshop, take the gearbox out of Lee/Renton’s Sierra and then drive it to Paris. Pleaseâ€?. The guys: “No worries mate, we’ll see you in about 12 hoursâ€?.
We beg and borrow enough equipment to take the knackered box out, then go back to the hotel to get ready for the party… I miss all the free Champagne at the Gumball reception because someone took so long to get ready, but Lee and Martin kindly take care of what we would have had - cheers guys! From there we go on to La Suite for the party. Despite the drinks costing about 15 quid each, we all got suitably mullered.
DAY 1
We could have done with a lie-in, but gearboxes don’t fit themselves, so we’re all up at nine to get the Escort back on the road. Every vehicle in the underground car park had its stickers applied over night, apart from the Escort. Clearly the Gumball staff weren’t as confident about getting the car done as we were. Just a fewhours later the Escort’s finished, the stickers are on and we’re heading back to the hotel to get washed, packed and attend Maxamillion’s briefing.
Have you heard of the film Rendezvous? It’s an eight minute blast around the streets of Paris by an unnamed racing driver at the wheel of a Ferrari 275 GTB. The plan was for everyone to leave the Gumball car park and parade along the Rendezvous route before heading over to the Tracerdero near the Eiftel Tower for the start of the rally.
In today’s traffic infested streets, it’s estimated to take about 45 minutes. It takes us half an hour to queue our way out of the underground car park, by which time the Skyline and Escort’s twin plate clutches are very hot and bothered, so we skip the tour of Paris and head straight for the starting point (sorry Max). We are the first to arrive and spend an hour soaking up the atmosphere and admiring the rather impressive views.
We’ve just watched half the field leave, it’s 5.30pm and time we hit the road ourselves. We get to the front of the queue, are handed a postcard with checkpoint details and are waved off into the streets of Paris.
“Shall we go left, right or straight on?â€? We don’t have time to input the destination into the sat nav so hang a right and hope for the best. That was to be the first many navigational errors and probably cost us an hour.
As we start making good progress along the motorway we fly through a speed trap at over double the limit. A police car further up the road waves at us to pull in behind the other cars he’s just nabbed, but we go for ‘double or nothing’ and keep our feet down. The gamble pays off and we avoid a minimum 750 Euro fine.
On we go then, heading south towards Mas Du Clos (250 miles away) where we should have some dinner waiting and get chance to blat our cars round Pierre Barinon’s private race circuit. We arrive just after midnight, five minutes after the track has been closed and three hours after the first people have already left for the next checkpoint: DOH! There are still plenty of people behind us though, so it’s not all bad news. We grab a bread roll, a bottle of Coke and our next route card and head off into the night towards Bordeaux and then onto Madrid.
DAY 2
It’s 12.30am, it’s pissing with rain and our card says the next check point is 648 miles away. Brilliant.
Hang about, something’s not right here. We’ve been going for nine hours now and we’ve just overtaken the Gumball 2CV that averages about 55mph… Something tells me we might have gone the long way round. Again. Oh well, no point in crying over spilt super unleaded.
The sign says 200km from Bordeaux. Cool man, in an hour’s time we’ll be half way there! At this rate we should arrive at the Bernabeu Stadium in Madrid at about 2pm. Oh bollocks, the card says the check point is open between 6am and 12noon. We’re still going past other Gumballers though – knowing other people are doing worse than us always raises our spirits!
The sun has come up on day three, France is in the rear view mirror and our asses are properly numb. We did a bit of car swapping over night to help stay awake. Sona became one of the very few people who can say “I’ve driven Martin Hadland’s Escortâ€?.
It’s now half nine in the morning, we’ve done nearly 700 miles in the 16 hours since Paris and things are looking good. There’s a clear blue sky, the road is pin straight and “fucking hell, that Enzo’s coming up behind us at paceâ€?. Martin’s spotted him too and boots off into the distance as if I’d just put the Skyline into reverse. Few things wake you up better than the sight of the world’s fastest Escort and a bright yellow Enzo fighting toe-to-toe right before your eyes.
We drive into Madrid at about 12.30pm and ask a street sweeper, “Ou est le Bernabeu?�
He gives us a puzzled look. Maybe that’s something to do with us being British, speaking French, in Spain – and the fact that we’re parked directly opposite the stadium! Sleep deprivation can do strange things to you.
We stock up on finger food, go and have a look at the pitch, say hello to Tony Hawk who just walked in behind us and head back to the cars. Our next postcard says there are still another 364 miles left on this mammoth first leg. We hit the road once again towards Marbella. The views as we head south are nothing short of spectacular, but they’re a little difficult to appreciate when we’ve been driving for 24 hours solid.
The route card suggests we get some sleep as soon as we get to the hotel and set our alarms for 7pm before getting ready for tonight’s party. This may be a problem considering we’re still 150 miles away and it’s already 6pm. We arrive at the hotel and finally get chance to relax. The porter guides me to the underground car park. At the top of the ramp I tell him the Skyline is very low and won’t make it. He assures me it will be okay so I head down. Twat. I reverse back up the slope and find a space without anyone’s ‘help’.
We soon hear about the red Enzo which has been damaged on the way here. Some say it’s been written off, but no one seems to know for sure. The Champagne is kicking in now and suddenly it seems a good idea to skip food and go for a liquid dinner…
DAY3
Our alarm wakes us at 7.30am. We grab some breakfast and head for the cars once again. We’ve now had a total of nine hours sleep in three nights. The term “properly Gumballing babyâ€? seems to keep us all going though. Parked out the front of the hotel is a brand spanking new red Enzo, I guess he did smash the other one up then. Rumour has it the owner paid £25,000 in transport alone to get it shipped from Italy to Marbella - now that’s bling!
We head along the coast past Gibraltar and soon arrive at the Port D’Algericas. It takes a while to load between 10 and 15 million pounds worth of cars onto the Gumball ferry – we pass the time by strolling around the cars and thinking about how ‘funny’ it would be if the ship happened to sink.
The two hour crossing goes well and we head down to the car deck where unloading has begun. Yet another rumour tells us that no Enzos are going to Africa because they can’t get insurance – obviously bullshit because we’ve just driven off the boat and parked up behind the yellow one.
The Moroccan customs line everyone up to check our documents and get ready for the police to escort us out of Tangier. Then someone starts yelling over a loud speaker, all the locals stop what they’re doing and stroll off to the mosque for an hour. This is the first sign indicating that things in Africa are a little different from the norm.
Once the praying’s stopped we start the 200-odd mile drive to Rick’s Café in Casablanca. We’re told the café was made famous by Humphrey Bogart in the film Casablanca, but we wouldn’t know cos we haven’t seen it. What I do know is that I got properly pissed off when we got lost trying to find the fucking place!
We neck some food and drink at Rick’s and grab our next route card which says we have a 96 mile drive to the Kempinski Hotel in Marrakech.
The last part of the drive to Marrakech is amazing. In the space of one hour we overtake at least 400 cars (24 in one go, which is a personal best!); 100 donkey drawn carts; we see camels being watered at a river; we watch an awesome African sunset and just have a feeling that says, “We’ll remember this drive for the rest of our livesâ€?.
After eating some food at the hotel, there’s only one thing we wanna do: sleep. Well, sleep and look at the cars. Sona’s gone to bed so I head out to the car park to admire the machinery. The Gemballa GT700 (modified Cayanne) is up on blocks and the support crew are busy with spanners. It turns out the gearbox is knackered. Not wanting to turn a drama into a crisis, Sultan, the GT700 owner, sent his private jet to Gemballa in Leonburg, Germany to pick a new one up! Now that’s beyond bling!
DAY 4
Up at 7am to clean the car for the first time on the rally. At 9am everyone fires up their engines and starts the 300 mile drive towards the ancient city of Fez. Sona and I get split fro m Martin and Lee in the Escort, then end up getting lost, yet again. After half an hour we get back on track and I call Martin to see how they are getting on.
Suddenly our worlds are turned inside-out as Martin says, “We’ve had a crash and Lee is hurt. Get here as soon as you can, we’re on the road to Fez and need some helpâ€? click.
Words can’t describe the sickening feelings we feel. Ten minutes later we arrive at the scene. Lee has already been taken to hospital, Martin’s in a state of confusion and the car and its contents look like they’ve been dropped from the sky. We load the Skyline with whatever we can carry, put what we can’t back in the Escort (which was recovered to a police compound) and head to the hospital to see Lee.
Tears well up in my eyes as I see my best friend lying on a hospital trolley 2500 miles from home in a country where so few people speak English. His nose is broken, his face is swollen like a beetroot and covered in stitches and an X-ray has identified a fractured spine. But Lee doesn’t care about his injuries, he just wants me and Sona to get back on the road and finish the Gumball. It’s an awful decision to make, but we agree to leave him there and continue on the rally.
Rupert, a Gumball crew member who accompanied Lee to the hospital, swaps places with Martin and squeezes in the back of the Skyline. We head toward Fez but soon realise we’re four hours behind and have no hope of catching up with everyone or getting to the port at Nador in time for the official Gumball Ferry.
I make some calls and discover the next ferry leaves tomorrow morning – not ideal considering it’s a six hour crossing. But before we can do anything we have the small matter of cash, or the lack of it to
be precise. In the confusion of the crash we didn’t get chance to stop and get any money. We’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, we’ve got about 50 miles of fuel in the tank and enough cash to buy another 130.
We stop at the side of the road where a Gumball Mini has pulled over. Half the reason for stopping is to see if we can help, the other half is to see if we can borrow any cash! Sadly there isn’t anyone around. What happens next is like something out of a dream. A recovery truck comes the other way with Sultan’s GT700 on the back, he’s blown the new gearbox. Hmmm, I wonder if an Arab prince with a £300,000 Porsche and a private jet can lend us a few quid?!
I politely ask if he might be able to lend us 500 Dirhams (about £30) so we can buy another tank of fuel. He gives us 3000.
Later that evening I get a call from Sultan offering Lee a flight out of Morocco on his private jet, but ecstasy turned to agony as we realised it’s not quite big enough to have a stretcher carried onboard. It’s a very generous offer though. We drive on into the night, knowing we need to get to Tangier by 10pm for the last ferry. We get there and the cost is 1400 Dirhams, exactly what we have left out of the 3000 we borrowed!
DAY 5
It’s 12am and we’re on the ferry heading from Tangier back to Spain. The official Gumball ferry is docking a few hundred miles closer to Barcelona, so we still have a lot of catching up to do.
We manage to drive until about 3am but the tiredness gets hold of us and we have to pull over for an hour’s sleep. We get back on the road, but even cruising at 150mph doesn’t produce enough adrenalin to keep us awake, so we have to stop again. The sun comes up and realisation hits us that we’re never going to get to Barcelona in time for the Grand Prix. Oh well, 5hit happens.
After we get to the hotel in Barcelona, Roo can finally hop out of the Skyline and join his original Gumball crew - some 28 hours after we first picked him up. We learn it was almost a bonus that we were so far behind as it turns out the police had set up various road blocks and were nicking any Gumballers (whether speeding or not) for illegal road racing – the bastards!
As word of the police stops spread many people decided to remove all their stickers to avoid getting nicked. A few canny people in black cars covered their stickers using black gaffer tape! Half the field got 350 Euro fines at various police stations meaning they all missed the GP. Four people are in prison for speeding and were unlikely to see the end of the rally.
Today’s the first time we’ve arrived at a hotel before 7pm which means we’ve a bit of time to relax and unwind. I’ve parked next to the car washing bay in the underground car park and take the opportunity to remove some of the thousands of dead bugs from the front of the car.
Later that night the organisers lay on a fantastic spread of food, so we stuff our faces, big style. After a few bottles of beer and glasses of bubbly have taken effect we head for bed. If ever the term, “Asleep before my head hit the pillow,� were true, it was now.
DAY 6
This is it, the last day of the rally. Up until last night everything’s been done in a rush – apart from all our petrol stops. While other cars flew in and out in a matter of seconds, ours always seemed to take about half an hour each while everyone decideded whether to have a cheese and ham roll or a chicken salad sandwich.
Chance to sleep and think about events in Morocco have put us in a more reflective mood and for the first time in weeks, we’re in no rush to do anything. We sit down at our breakfast table and ask the guy sitting opposite the most common Gumball question: what car are you in?
“I used to be in a 996 turbo,â€? he tells us, “but the driver was banged up and the car was impounded, so now I’m just catching lifts.â€? We offer him a ride in the back of the Skybird, but he’s already accepted the passenger seat of a Lamborghini – wise choice.
Route card number 14 tells us we’ve got a 339 mile drive to the ex Grand Prix circuit of Paul Ricard. It’s now an awesome F1 test facility and I was about to get the chance to drive round it in a modified Skyline, cool man!
We are on our best behaviour on the roads on the way to the circuit as the police have clearly heard that Gumball is coming. There are radar traps at the side of the roads and we’re being timed between the toll booths, so if we get to the next one too early, we’ll get nicked. It’s the same story as we enter France, where we’re stopped and quizzed about our GPS aerial being a potential radar detector – they’re totally illegal in France.
After a couple more hours steady progress we are soon on the winding roads leading up to the Paul Ricard HTTT (High Tech Test Track). We are directed straight to the pit entrance where a group have just gone out on track. I’m at the front of my group and wonder how long it will take some of the supercars who pull in behind me to come past. But the Skyline goes better than I imagined round the track, and leaves all but one 360 for dead and even that struggles to keep up.
After the track session I head up to the hospitality room, scoff some food and prepare for the final drive, to the final party of this whole crazy adventure. So, this is it. A 100 mile drive to Cannes and the end. We get a strange feeling inside; half gutted that it’s all about to end and half pleased because we can’t take much more!
The Cannes film festival starts tomorrow so the seafront is packed. Hundreds of people watch me bunny-hop my way through the traffic (bloody race clutch!) before arriving at the Carlton. We park in one of the 15 spaces reserved for the 15 best cars on the Gumball.
There’s only two things left to do before the curtain closes on the honeymoon from heaven and hell (but mostly heaven, sweetheart) all rolled into one: collect our Burt trophies and get totally and utterly 5hit-faced!
Gumball is the definition of mentalist motoring. If there’s one thing everyone should do before they die: Gumball is it.
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