Let this be a lesson to you – don’t always trust the computer. We knew we were in trouble the moment our Google-derived directions started taking us southwards as everyone else sailed off to the West. Soon we were snarled up in Denver rush-hour traffic as the minutes ticked past. Time to get back to basics: sketching out a quick route with the paper maps provided, we backtracked through the route and headed for our first goal, Loveland pass.
   2013 Mazda Adventure Rally. Click image to enlarge |
Getting up here involved flogging our CX-5 up an extremely steep series of switchbacks and, lest you think I’m talking about hooning around at extra-legal speeds, I’m not. With altitudes of 2,400–2,700 m (8,000–9,000 ft) above sea level, the naturally aspirated Mazda engines were suffering the effects of oxygen deprivation, down on power by around 20 percent. At the peak of Loveland, our CX-5 was down about 60 hp and was struggling.
So were our brains. Running down the clock we only managed to string together four peaks (another team managed six), and made another boneheaded move on the second stage that would eventually earn us the tongue-in-cheek “Longest Shortcut Award”.
This involved another mountain-pass-based challenge, but one based around the GPS transmitters each car was fitted with. Teams were to be awarded points based on the gap between maximum and minimum elevations recorded. We struggled up the hill to Cottonwood Pass, jammed up behind a Westfalia whose motor, according to some quick elevation-deduction math, was actually absorbing horsepower from the surrounding environment rather than producing any.
Hitting the crest, I had the bright idea of running the detachable transmitter further up the hill on a hiking trail. I say “running” – oozing is probably a more apt description. At 3,600+ m (12,000+ ft), the air was thin enough to give my sea-level-acclimatized head spinning. But hey, we got an extra hundred feet out of it.
Despite making the mistake of back-tracking on tarmac rather than tackling the winding gravel road that led down the far side of Cottonwood pass (we got caught in road construction) we did manage to max our score here. As the next stage involved a choice of mild, medium or spicy-level roads, we decided not to chicken out again and went for the full Southwestern muy caliente.
I can’t believe Mazda let a bunch of auto writers do this in soft-roaders with zero modifications and street tires. Heading up Ophir (rhymes with “fear”) Pass, we bumped into another team and then watched, alarmed, as their CX-9 did a full tripod routine, sliding over the loose shale, each razor-edged, bowling-ball-sized rock a tire-puncturing menace.
  2013 Mazda Adventure Rally. Click image to enlarge |
Having survived (just barely), we pulled into the Telluride ski resort at a little past seven, having spent eleven hours behind the wheel and eating on the road. Our machines were coated with dirt, the air was still thin and headache-inducing and tomorrow were going to do it all over again. Preliminary scores were in and team Autos.ca (aka Ginger Ninjas) was in fourth place. Bring it.
This time, forward planning was the name of the game. Arising at 3 AM, I pored over the maps until I figured out each of the next sections.
A series of unexplained five-digit numbers as destinations? Those were postal codes, and could be photographed at the local post office of each of a chain of towns.
Random movie-still backgrounds to be captured with photos taken on supplied iPads? I staked each one out using IMDB.
A shortest-distance run that had to pass through a series of Utah’s counties in a specific order? Route highlighted and cross-referenced against the county boundary map. We were ready.
