Robert Higdon's Paris-Dakar Report Day 3

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The first two days of the rally have had their problems. Mud on January 1 stopped competition in the day's only stage shortly after the bikes had turned the course into an impenetrable mire. You know it had to be a scene straight out Dante's Inferno when Paris-Dakar 4WDs start going belly up because they need a push from spectators to finish. On January 2 the stage and overall standings were completely screwed up, though we have to presume that someone in charge knew who was on top of the leader board, even if they weren't bothering to tell the rest of us. Day #3 had to be better, right?

It was worse. Today even the organizers didn't know who was winning.

Two stages were scheduled on the short (234 km) route in Spain from Grenada to Almeira. The first was just a 4 km early morning jog for the benefit of the local Andalusian crowd. I think --- this, by the way, is far from certain, because the purported "overall" standings through the first three days actually appear to be the results from the first stage of the third day, but I won't complain because the afternoon will bring even grimmer comedy --- rookie Giovani Sala took first, followed closely by everybody and his brother. Since it was such a tiny little stage, you would expect the scores to be wadded and they were. Thirty-seven riders were within a minute of Sala.

Eighteen of the top twenty bikes on that stage were KTMs. Only Stephane Peterhansel (7th on an 850 Yamaha twin) and Oscar Gallardo (19th on a 650 BMW single) broke up the Austrian bike brigade. Edi Ortioli on the other beautifully-prepped BMW F650 continued to hang back. He had a third consecutive mediocre run, coming in 1:24 behind Sala to nail down a ghoulish 50th place on the stage. Peterhansel might eventually walk away from the field as he has done in the past (he beat second-place Gallardo last year by 2.5 hours), but he was not expected to walk away from Ortioli, who is carrying the #2 plate in the rally. The Italian's riding style so far has been described as "extremely cautious." The star to date of Team Richard Schalber's travelling BMW circus has been Gallardo who, after a modest effort in the mud, has come out of the box with his hair on fire.

After a transit zone, the field charged out on a 36 km stage (shortened for some reason from its original 80 km). Again, the posted results don't make a great deal of sense, but one thing seemed clear: Oscar Gallardo's BMW had kicked some serious butt, apparently 3:12 minutes ahead of second place rider Flavio Agardi and more than five minutes ahead of Peterhansel. It was a show stopper, and must have been particularly gratifying for the Spaniard to have performed so magnificently in his home country.

"Show stopper" might really be the appropriate phrase, for shortly after the bikes had completed the second stage of the day, the organizers decided not to score it because of unspecified "time-keeping problems." Along with the "problem in the computer treatment of standings" from the day before, you might tend to agree with the press release that was issued at the end of third day of competition: "Things are still a little unclear in the bike class . . ." I guess so.

This the twentieth anniversary of the Paris-Dakar, the premiere event of its kind in the world. Granted, these organizers have problems that start at the level of international nightmare and quickly spiral out of control. But timing a leg or scoring a stage isn't post-graduate work. Maybe it will settle down once they've left the comforts of Europe for the wilds of North Africa. I sure hope so. Having to make up all this stuff as I go along is straining my imagination to the snapping point. This, by the way, comes from one who sincerely believes that the finest journalism consists of reporting what should have happened instead of what probably happened and never mind what actually happened. You should expect no less from someone who grew up reading the Washington "Post."

Well, I am optimistic. The BMWs, even with Edi Oriolo's mysterious riding, are doing better than I thought they would at this point. Being a shameless home team BMW supporter, I have been pleasantly surprised. Besides, I have a vested interest in what Schalber's boys and girl are doing, since they ride a bike like I have, sort of. In all candor my F650 is like theirs only in the sense that my rubber duck is like the Queen Mary, in that they both float.

The riders are floating to Africa tonight across a short stretch of the Mediterranean. Tomorrow the real fun begins in Nador, Morocco, a 613 km day with 40% of it in a stage on a rocky road. Maybe we can find out what happens. Anything is possible.

Bob Higdon

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Please respect our intellectual property rights. Do not distribute any of these documents, or portions therein, without the written permission of the Iron Butt Association.