When I was a kid I was really peculiar about movies. Every film I saw, whether it was “Star Wars” or “Spaceballs”, was the greatest movie I had ever seen with the exception of possibly “Willow”. Case in point: 1976’s “Gumball Rally”, starring Michael Sarrazin and Gary Busey, was about an illegal transcontinental race where the participants raced for nothing more than glory and a gumball machine.
This film in particular stands out in my childhood memories because the opening credits consist of a man pushing a toy car along the curves of a woman’s naked body. To my seven-year-old sensibilities, this was the most peculiar thing I had ever seen! What a weird way to play with a Matchbox I thought to myself, and yet something deep inside of me responded, the smallest gestation of my not-yet-ripened libido.
The rest of the movie basically plays out like every other cross-country race movie ever made, from “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” to “Cannonball Run”, but this opening scene made the entire film a classic for me because it taught me how cars could be sexy (even a Matchbox car) in spite of the fact I wasn’t exactly sure what sexy was.
It came as no surprise to me to learn that there was in reality a Gumball 3000 race, and that these type of races have been around on and off for decades. The concept began in 1933 when motorcycle rider “Cannonball” Baker made it from coast to coast in 54 hours.
This legendary roadtrip was revived and celebrated by Car and Driver magazine founder and editor Brock Yates, who began the Cannonball Baker Sea to Shining Sea Memorial Trophy Dash during the 1970s. During the second year of the race, Yates won the race in 36 hours, with the assistance of co-driver and Formula1/Le Mans racer Dan Gurney. The gentlemen made the winning dash behind the wheel of a Ferrari Daytona.
By 1979, the race had received enough scrutiny from both political and law enforcement interests (who voiced concerns over driver safety), as well as an increase in media attention, that the race was discontinued (wow, what a different time from today…an event is canceled due to heightened media interest?).
Fast forward to 1999, when British artist and designer Maximillion Cooper founded a media empire around the spirit of the rally, updating the style and distance of the race, and taking it around the world each year with one constant: drive all day and party all night.
Since 1999, the race has attracted the likes of rich, famous, and thrill-seeking individuals. The list of celebrities who have participated in the race ranges from actors such as Billy Zane, Matthew McConaughey and Daryl Hannah, to pop stars like British rapper Goldie, the Happy Mondays, and Lemmy Kilmister from Motorhead as well as acting/pop star hybrids like David Hasselhoff.
The race has also attracted well known personalities from fashion, such as moguls Donna Karan, and almost anyone ever featured on the MTV hit show “Jackass”. My personal favorite participant is Joel McHale from E channel’s “The Soup” who participated just last year. With entry fees in the tens of thousands of dollars, the race also regularly attracts groups of adventure and auto enthusiasts able to band together and cough up the cash for the opportunity to travel as teams.
As colorful as the characters driving, there are also the rides. Sexy, powerful, and sleek cars, ranging from Jaguars to Porsches and Rolls Royces to Aston Martins. There are also the more out-of-left-field vehicles, ranging from “The Dukes of Hazzard’s” General Lee to hybrids and even rental cars. Many drivers opt for the vehicle that is an extension of their personality or sense of style rather than the car that will get them to the finish line the fastest. Not that this isn’t about speed to some degree; the fastest speed to ever receive a traffic violation occurred during the 2000 race with a vehicle clocked at 226 mph. This fast and furious pace resulted in one fatal accident during the 2007 race.
This year’s race followed a close facsimile of the traditional “coast to coast” race of the old Cannonball days running from Los Angeles to Miami May 1 to 8. Beginning on the Santa Monica Pier, the racers arrived at the Hard Rock Hotel here in Las Vegas by the close of day one. There I was, camped out in the registration room as the drivers arrived in a continuous stream, having more than my fair share of complimentary champagne, looking to chat with the drivers. There were a surprising number of accounts of the California Highway Patrol driving along with race participants, keeping their speeds in check. Everyone looked a little road-ridden but in great sprits.
Skateboarding legend and repeat Gumball participant Tony Hawk meandered in around 7 p.m. and was most congenial as he waited patiently for his room pass. It turned out that Tony and many other drivers were Twittering about the race as they went. I waited and waited to see more high profile drivers, and was equally impressed with everyone I had a chance to briefly chat with.
One notable sighting was Gretchen Rossi from Bravo’s “The Real Housewives of the OC.” Although I didn’t get a chance to talk to her, I happened to be waiting for my wife to come out of the ladies room when I saw Gretchen go in. Ten minutes later, they both came out of the bathroom smiling and laughing and exchanging, “Nice to meet yous!” (Guys never do anything like that in a restroom, they would run the risk of getting punched out.) My wife’s a huge fan of the Housewives, and it turns out Gretchen is a big fan of herself as well!
In true Gumball 3000 fashion, the night was all about the party. First up was exclusive VIP access to the performance by what I consider to be the superior British response to Guns N’ Roses, The Cult! Drivers rocked out to Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy et al during one of the best rock shows I have seen in a long time and a fitting performance for the all-new, on-steroids version of The Joint.
Afterward, the party continued on into the morning hours at Body English, where the drivers took over the club and turned the scene into something that I can only best describe as a very upscale biker bar. The hedonism and flaming Bacardi shots flowed, and the things I witnessed cannot be retold here, for fear of legal retribution from David Hasselhoff (just kidding, the ‘Hoffster’ was long gone to beddy-bye by the time things got out of control down in the club). I wish I could tell you how things ended, but I had to pour my wife and myself into a cab at 3 a.m…
…And then they were gone. One could almost hear the roar of engines gunning off into the distance on Sunday morning, when this rag-tag group of merry roadsters headed for the next stop in Sedona, Arizona. As I made my latte, nursed my headache, and squinted hard to see just who was on “Meet the Press”, it occurred to me that Gumball 3000 isn’t about winning a race. It’s all about the journey, one that challenges those who hear the call to travel the world in search of a lifestyle, a moment, the intoxication of the freedom of the road. You can’t hear that call in a casino, and you can’t hear it at Fashion Show mall. It blows across the desert highway like a cannonball and then settles at the end of a bar just after sunset. It rolls over hills and valleys like a Matchbox car navigates a woman’s thigh. Do you hear it?
