Today was the first of three marathon legs, running eastward into the middle of the Sahara to El Mreiti through dunes and fast sand tracks. It was designed to separate the sheep from the goats. It did. By the end of the day El Mreiti looked more like a battleground than a motor sport rally.

Commenting on the conditions, the organizers noted somewhat ominously that "They are still fresh in the memory of the reconnaissance team . . ." The rally has travelled through this area in the past, so it was known to be traversable. That has not always been the case. There have been stages on previous rallies where conditions were so bad that the best riders in the world were reduced to walking their bikes through the sand. It can get hairy, but once they have made it through the worst of the dunes, the track would improve and speeds intensify. At least that was the theory.

Australian Andy Haydon, a rookie on the P-D but no stranger to off-road riding, led several other riders into the first of three checkpoints on the 680 km stage, arriving just before noon. At the second checkpoint Giovani Sala and Jaroslav Katrinak, always referred to in press releases as "the Slovakian surprise," edged in front of Haydon. Unknown to the Slovakian surprise, who stood 7th overall at the beginning of the day, he had just reached the high-point of his rally. Two-thirds of the way into the stage his motor crumped. Sala began fade. Haydon recovered his form and eventually won the stage by a minute over Joan Roma, the consistent Spaniard who is no surprise to anybody. It had taken Haydon more than eight hours to subdue a desert that 99% of the motorcyclists who have ever lived would have no hope of crossing in a week. He had averaged an incredible 81 km/hr. The stage win would deservedly move him from 9th to 6th overall.

Behind Roma came Raymond Sainct, Jordi Arcarons, overall leader Stephane Peterhansel, Edi Orioli (recovering from yesterday's electrical problems), Carlos Sotelo, and Fabriozi Meoni. For the Spaniard Arcarons, the rally continues to remain a teeth-gnashing case of always a bridesmaid and never a bride. In the five years between 1992 and 1996 he finished 3rd, 3rd, 2nd, 2nd, and 2nd overall, the most remarkable string of near victories in the 20-year history of the rally. This won't be his year either. He is in 17th place, more than three hours off the pace.

Peterhansel was obviously taking no chances, realizing that he is facing three straight days of no service and no parts. You're not going to win the rally in these marathon stages, but you sure as hell can lose it in a hurry. Nine minutes behind Haydon at day's end, he retains a tiny lead over Roma, with Meoni and Sainct within easy striking range, and the rest of the hoard nearly an hour or more distant.

Paul Krause on a KTM, the only American entry, took a tenth on the stage, his best placing so far, and moved into 31st overall. He has to be happy with today's run. Britain's John Deacon, who had held a death grip on 10th place overall for days, moved up a notch to 9th to the delight of his fans. He may be the only rider in the pack with his own web site.

Distinctly unhappy tonight is Oscar Gallardo, one of the aces of Richard Schalber's F650 BMW team. Mechanical problems ruined his day. He finished in the 48th spot, more than three hours behind Haydon and fell from 5th overall to 16th.

But at least he finished. One hundred thirty-three bikes had started the eighth day of the rally. They were allotted no more than seventeen hours to complete the leg. Two-thirds of the riders in this world-class field couldn't do it. By 0930 on the morning of Day #9, ninety minutes after the first bike was to have begun the second marathon day, only 46 of the riders had shown up from the previous day. On an event in which chaos routinely is king, the P-D's maximum wizard, Hubert Auriol, probably was longing for a return to simple insanity. Rather than bounce a vast majority of the remaining field from the event, Auriol ultimately decided to extend the maximum arrival time to twenty-six hours.

In the meantime it must have been the purest kind of hell for a rider struggling through the Sahara tonight. He is stuck, or out of gas, or lost, or broken down, or just blindly screwed, blued, and tattooed in a dozen other ways. It's getting dark. He can barely see tire tracks, but he can see sand dunes ahead that look like the Chrysler Building. His seventeen hours expired about two weeks ago and he's still ninety klicks from El Mreiti. He doesn't know that Auriol might save his bacon tomorrow. All he knows is that he has come a long, long way from home to be in a place that no one calls home. And even if he can get through this hateful piece of land that God threw away in disgust, he hasn't finished half the rally.

 1	PETERHANSEL	YAM	FR	0:00:00
 2	ROMA		KTM	ES	0:00:49
 3	MEONI		KTM	IT	0:13:00
 4	SAINCT		KTM	FR	0:15:00
 5	SOTELO		CAG	ES	0:49:43
 6	HAYDON		KTM	AU	0:56:21
 7	COX		KTM	AF	1:05:14
 8	ORIOLI		BMW	IT	1:14:18
 9	DEACON		KTM	GB	1:38:34
10	SALA		KTM	IT	1:46:48
11	VON ZITZEWIT	KTM	AL	2:12:42
12	MARQUES		KTM	PO	2:14:07
13	JIMMINK		KTM	HO	2:15:45
14	BERNARD		KTM	FR	2:43:31
15	CASTERA		YAM	FR	2:53:09

© 1998 Iron Butt Association, Chicago, Illinois

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