Held first in 1950, the La Carrera Panamericana Car Race is a grueling and rugged road race that barrels through Mexico. It was created to honor the completion of the Pan America Highway that extends from Chile to Alaska. But sadly, due to a high number of fatalities, the race, which gained notoriety quickly, was discontinued in 1954. In 1988, the race was restored as a historic targa. Then in 2006, the Unlimited Class made it possible for newer production cars (1990 to present) to enter. The race took place from November 9th to the 16th. More History:: La Carrera Panamericana

Unlimited Preparation
Gerie Bledsoe, the US contact for La Carrera Panamericana and our trusty guide to the start of the race was waiting with about twenty other trucks and trailers ready to cross into Mexico—in our case using a forged registration. Because one person can only import one vehicle at a time and I own both the truck and the Lotus, crewmember Cade Wilson soon found himself the proud but temporary owner of a well-worn Dodge Ram.

With two hours of sleep, import permits in order, tourist visas stamped, we hit the road. We drove almost 700 miles from Laredo Nuevo to San Miguel de Allende where we were welcomed with an escort to our hotel and a charity dinner. The next morning the cars were set up in the Jardin (town square) to benefit Feed the Hungry, which builds kitchens in schools in Mexico. After spending hours posing for photos and signing autographs, we made our way to Puebla, via Mexico City. What most people don’t know is that you’re not allowed to drive a truck and trailer through the city since the closed-circuit-monitored highways that dissect the city are only about three Beetles wide. Within minutes, we were swarmed with “killer bees”—the tiny black and yellow striped cars that the Mexican highway patrol uses. While we had special permission to use the highways, that information never seemed to make its way down to the “killer bees.” After some negotiations, we were back our way to Puebla. The next morning, we finished the last 200 miles into Veracruz.

It was still two days before the race and we’d already driven 3000 miles—fifty percent more than the race length itself—and that doesn’t count all the U-turns, bad directions and detours around raw-sewage floods. But who cares about minor details?! So far it felt like an exotic road trip, but the moment we were handed our stickers and car number, it started to sink in that I was about to race. Sure, I’ve put in plenty of hours at the track, I’ve been to Skip Barber Racing School and had my fair share of fast rides, but this was my first race. This was the first time I could officially say, “I am a race car driver.”

Qualifying: Peligroso! Chica Loca!
In Veracruz, the Lotus was hand painted to give it some old fashioned livery charm. I’d originally planned on painting “Caution: Female Driver” across the back, but everyone began referring to me as “Chica Loca” (“Crazy Girl”) so we went with that instead, as well as adding our names, blood type and the traditional Mexican and American flags. After a few more last minute decorations thanks to Coop, my crew and I headed to the pool to relax. The next morning was qualifying and we needed some rest.

Qualifying started out in a small town in the mountains where we lined up along a cobblestone road surrounded by small Mexican homes. Children and grandmothers lined the streets watching the cars launch from the starting line, beginning what we’d been told was going to be a very dangerous race. We didn’t want to wipe out before it even began but unfortunately a few cars disagreed—first Carlos Castillo and Carlos Ramierez’s Studebaker went out of the race, and then a vintage Mini rolled as well… We were definitely spooked when we saw those totaled cars on the side of the road—it felt like running the Gauntlet. But I was ecstatic to find the results placed us 16th overall.
(To be continued…manana)

Story: Rachel Larratt <<
Photos: Bret Haller and TheUnlimitedClass