More Hairpins than a 1950's Beauty Salon

A bumpy start to Monday morning. Your navigator had the map upside down. I used
the Southern Hemisphere defense and we passed under the golden gates of Cordoba
back in the pack.

Somehow we had pictured rallying as an event with a sporty group, leisurely
motoring through the countryside and arriving precisely on time for tea. Not so,
this is blasting about the twisty bits, hanging on and yelling "hard right,
sharp left, control, STOP!" Not quite fully locked up at the final control and
dignity almost intact , we moved into first place in our class. Sadly, Dave and
Sadie, formerly in the lead, suffered a flying goma and slipped behind.

Heart stopping (remember our trickling arteries) trip up and over the Andes into
Chile. The mother of all glaciers ripped open the mountains like butter, raging
rivers, giant boulders, steep, steep walls. Only the Brits would think to put a
railroad on this continually avalanching terrain.
But there it is, long abandoned.
Santiago is a fine modern city, home of the "Let's get blind drunk Pisco Sour."
Our friends from Yakima have moved into the Presidential Suite. Will we see them
again?

Gates of Cordoba, finally

Montanas derecho (Here come the Andes)

Tunnel vision times ten

Esquire Cuesta (ski slope)

Border Officials attempted to seize Monkey's bananas. 

He fought back!

Rally support truck heads down the Andes

"There was a bit of a change in the leaderboard...Chuck and Pam Lyford move into top spot of the Vintageants"    Fred Fangio

Santiago