The Ghosts of Rallies Past

So week one is almost over and the teams are powering through Europe like a drunk on a unicycle. Meanwhile, in the care home for Rally Veterans, the residents have been roused from their armchairs by the tang of burning rubber on the wind. They have pulled their hands out of their trousers to share their wankstained pictures and tell anyone who'll listen how it was better in their day. Even though nobody gives a toss.

May your roads be narrow, your tires leaky and your maps inadequate.
— Joseph Vance
What out for that pothole in Kazakhstan.
— Johnny
Dear Mongol Rally Class of 2015. Throw your GPS out of the window and find your own way. Or don’t find it, just find your way to whatever the next godforsaken village is. Maybe they have some gas there, or beer and you repeat that procedure so many times that some day, you realise that you made it to the finish line and you don’t have a clue how you managed not to lose your car to a tree or a river. And then you’ll see how much your balls have grown.
— Mongol Rally Vet Jérôme

The Mongol Rally. Providing an antidote to testicle atrophy since 2004. 

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