Ty Williams Gets Lost

"Next."
"Bear left onto Canyon at Canyon to stay on Canyon"
"Confirm left on Canyon. Next."
"Right."
"OK, the road to the left doesn't exist, so this is a forced right.
Still working instruction Right. OK, coming up to a Tee. Both roads exist, so confirming Right. Next."
"Right onto Canyon at Canyon to stay on Canyon."
"Wait, does that mean we're on Canyon now? We just turned off of Canyon. Oh, yes, we're on Canyon again. Confirming right onto Canyon. Next."

Saturday, February 28th, 2009 saw the rebirth of the Columbus Alley Rally. Alley Rallies are, in theory, a form of road rally in which driver/navigator teams progress over an unknown course arriving at unknown checkpoints precisely on time while following a set of printed route instructions. Alley Rallies are, in practice, motorsports events who's sole purpose is to make sure that anyone participating in them will never willingly set foot in a car again. They're run at night.
They're run in the cold and ice. They're run on alleys so narrow that opening the car doors is impossible. They're run off of route instructions perfected over years of experimentation to be as deceitful and incomprehensible as possible while still being factually correct.

"Next."
"Right onto Overbrook."
"Confirming right onto Overbrook. Nex.... Jesus, is this even a road?"
"Well, I see mailboxes and driveways, it must be."
"OK, but where's the, you know, road?"
"Um, under all these rocks maybe? They look like they might be broken up concrete."
"What's our CAST?"
"9 MPH"
"I don't know if we can do that, we'll have to make up time somewhere. Next."

The evening began with scruitineering. After careful inspection of the cars and interview of the teams, the Rallymaster decreed that all the cars would compete in Ill Equipped and all the teams were Without Any Class. At the driver's meeting, The rules were reviewed. Drivers were
not allowed to yell at or criticize navigators at any time. Navigators were encouraged to constantly tell drivers exactly what they were doing wrong. Numbered Route Instructions and Unnumbered Route Instructions were to be followed in strict numeric order except when
doing so would conflict with the order they were printed on the page. The rally would start at the stop sign you couldn't see. "Next" "Jog right to avoid SRIP "Immaculate Conception"."
"Confirming avoidance of second coming. Next" This year's rally was a partial re-run of Alley Rallies of the past. Covering most of the North side of Columbus and the Olentangy
Watershed, it ran past houses designed by Frank Loyd Wright, countless overfilled dumpsters, and a particular lamp post 12 times. The rally was measured at 30 miles and the perfect time was 3 hours. Via shortcuts, most teams completed the rally in over 4 hours and 50 miles. We managed to complete the entire rally minus one 300 yard section that seemed to be a figment of the Rallymaster's imagination. Amazingly, it only took us 4 hours and 3 minutes. As our first Alley Rally, we considered simply finding the restaurant at the end of the rally a major victory. In that time, we had started 2nd in the running order, fallen to 12th, accidentally worked our way back up to 1st, spent over an hour total going in circles (usually with other rally participants) trying to achieve escape velocity, and used 8 gallons of gas.

"Next."
"Right after the Alfa Romeo. How can they be sure the Alfa will be here during the rally?"
"It's an Alfa, they don't move. Confirming right. Next."

It was with something totally unlike anticipation that we awaited the results of the rally while eating. Times were totaled, penalties assigned, and answer sheets graded. Amazingly, last place didn't go to the team from Cleveland who managed to be taken into police custody during the rally. As the results were read, from last to first, we listened to the results with greater and greater surprise as our names weren't called. Astonishingly, before calling our names, the
Rallymaster reached into a bucket to extract something. We'd fished on the podium. We'd won money!

"Next."
"Caution! Stay left to avoid the Miata that's stuck in a pothole!"
"What? No way that's in the Route. Show me!"
"No! Look out the windshield!"
"Crap! Man, I almost took off his door! Next."

Three dollars and ninety-five cents.

... and we're already looking forward to next year.