BMW 5 Series Rally Race

Box lunches were provided at a car change/gas stop, and it was my turn again in an all-wheel-drive, six-speed-manual 535ix—same glorious engine and slightly better grip than the rear-drive car even on dry roads. Bob sagely suggested that driving while eating might not be the best idea, but I managed it safely, albeit somewhat slower than usual. The route was CA 155 through Wofford Heights and Woody, 65 through Porterville to Exeter, 245 through Woodlake and Elderwood, 63 through Orange Grove, 180 and 168 to Fresno and finally 41 to the Tenaya Lodge in Fish Camp, just short of the Yosemite National Park entrance.


Our route book and scorecard demanded more challenging answers and photos. The previous team had swiped this car's Polaroid, so Bob snapped the required scenes with his own digital. During his drive time, I invested substantial energy in digging for answers to questions about the countryside and the cars and found most of them. Average speed? D'oh!

Ben Hur

We rolled in nearly on time. Or maybe not. Only the rally masters knew, and they weren't telling. The room was nice, with wireless Internet but weak cell phone service. Our luggage truck, delayed by an accident in the mountains, arrived at last with a few minutes left to clean up for dinner at a nearby narrow-gauge railway depot.


The next morning's 8:00 push-off found us in one of the coveted M5s. My leg was a 55-mile leisurely cruise through the spectacular Yosemite park ($20 admission!), ogling El Capitan and Bridalvail Fall and stopping for photos under the watchful eyes of the plentiful park police, and a short distance beyond. There was no opportunity to shove my boot more than a few millimeters into the go pedal or exercise the M's mind-boggling road dynamics.


Not far out of the park on CA 140, at a slow but scenically spectacular detour across a canyon river and back, around a rockslide area, came the designated driver change. I reluctantly relinquished the keys. Then Bob got to flog it 89 miles on some of California's most delightfully challenging two-lanes. One, between Mariposa and Raymond, was aptly named Ben Hur Road. A diabolical collection of bends and curves that our route book understated as "at times narrow and patched" and without guardrails in many places, it was a trifle treacherous over much of its 20 miles. But it was great fun and a fine workout for our M5, and for Bob.

Halfway through lunch in Kerman, the unsettling news arrived that one of our group had wrecked pretty badly on Ben Hur Road. A 335i had sailed too hot into a deceptively sharp left-hander, braked too late, slid off sideways and rolled several times. The passenger was okay, but the driver was whisked away, bloody and stunned, by a Medivac helicopter. That kinda curbed our enthusiasm.


Our afternoon car was a six-speed manual 550i. Since my morning M5 experience had been minimal at best, I asked the route-master which of the final two legs was best. He said, "the last one." I was up next but assumed Bob would happily trade. He got angry. I said, "Never mind," but he insisted on driving first, and staying mad. The rest of our trip was very quiet.


His leg, on CA 198 through Coalinga to San Lucas, turned out terrific. It was faster yet safer than Ben Hur, with wide, smooth, sweeping curves, sparse traffic and panoramic vistas. Bob enjoyed it thoroughly, when he wasn't fiddling with the radio's sound adjustments through the iDrive controller. I asked if he'd like to put on his iPod. "Not in the mood," he replied sourly.