When I was on the Gumball 3000, I really wanted to talk to the owners of this rally-wrapped C7. But as ridiculous as it sounds, I wasn’t able to make it happen over the course of the eight days of the Rally. I’m going to man up take the blame here—but it was nuts.
“And you get paid for that?” Since I’ve been writing about cars, I’ve heard that phrase plenty of times. And damn, did I hear it a lot over the past few days. But that’s going to happen when you’re at your friend’s birthday party and you get to answer the innocuous “so how was your […]
Despite trying to stick to the speed limit, we got pulled over and fined after every toll plaza on the highway. Given that all the fines were due immediately, with cash, you can bet that most of the money was never actually turned over to the local governments.
The assembled cars took turns tearing down the strip the way kids take turns with a swing set at recess, and it’s safe to say everyone felt ten years old.
Despite the debauchery of the flight, Gumball Air arrived safely in Scotland, and even amidst the persistent partying, I was able to catch some shuteye—probably because I’m acclimated to a fair degree of degeneracy, but I’ve spent most of this week tired enough that I could fall asleep if I were being set on fire.