Fools Roll 2022

The Not-So-Amazing Race: Texas to Vegas in a $2,000 Clunker

Teams scramble to drive from Austin to the Wynn casino, wacky costumes and creative cheating welcome; Mötley Crüe vs. the Golden Girls

Rob Copeland April 7, 2022 11:18 am ET

Excerpts From Full Article

(SEE BOTTOM OF BLOG FOR PODCAST EPISODES)

LAS VEGAS—The midday Muzak at the stately porte cochere of the Wynn casino was disrupted first by the wheezing of a dying car engine, then the whirl of a siren, then two doors clanking open as a pair of men in retro police costumes stepped out of a 2007 Dodge Charger.

Willis Skinner and his driving companion had neither eaten nor bathed nor practically spoken to another soul for 14 hours, 14 minutes and 11 seconds, since setting off at sunset from Austin, Texas, in a race to Sin City. Their mode of transport was a former prop car they were told was used on the set of “The Walking Dead.” Top speed, when they could get away with it: 140 miles per hour.

The two racers, childhood friends who are now a trucking executive and a hardwood salesman, had arrived at the finish line after stopping the car to chase a man dressed as red-and-white-striped children’s character Waldo around Vegas’ seedy “Glitter Gulch,” i.e., Fremont Street, desperate to nab the photo with him that was a prerequisite to completing the race.

“Waldo ran from us,” said Mr. Skinner, 43, adding an expletive and thumbing a cigarette. “He’s lucky he didn’t run past the end of the block, or he was

The rally, called Fool’s Roll because it is held each year near April 1, is a simple concept with a maniacal flourish. Teams, which this year included friends, families, several doctors and one former Nascar driver-turned- ringer, must drive the roughly 1,200 mile trek, on any route they like, in a vehicle that costs no more than $2,000. Breakdowns, and meltdowns, are all but guaranteed.

The winning crew takes home $10,000, the top bounty of a handful of prizes. Each person pays a $2,500 entry fee, which includes a blowout weekend in Las Vegas after all the teams arrive at the finish line at the Wynn.

Fool’s Roll, now in its 10th year, attracts a motley crew of well-to-do Texans willing to lose a bit of money and a lot of dignity. Among this year’s 23 teams was one inspired by the band Mötley Crüe, complete with shoulder-length black wigs. They started red hot, but went away mad.

The race this year began the evening of March 30 as the last gasps of sunlight dipped over the starting line at a mansion on Austin’s Colorado River rented by Cord Shiflet, a real-estate broker to the local elite. He reminded racers, many clad in costumes, of the rules: Speeding is permitted, but receiving a speeding ticket is an automatic disqualifier. Car modifications are kosher, provided they don’t bring the total cost of the vehicle over the limit, but external gas tanks are forbidden. Fuel receipts are checked after the race to ensure that vehicles are driven, not towed.

There are also banned words. “The lawyers don’t like when we call it a

 

First-time participant Russell Becker, a bridge contractor by trade and pro- am motorcycle racer, had been practicing for weeks for this year’s race. He bought the most reliable car he could find, a diesel-fueled, cherry-red 2001 Volkswagen Beetle, and practiced racing it on deserted Texas highways. The night before the race, his wife filled the car with Atkins shakes, granola bars, two turkey sandwiches, yogurt, bananas, and a roll of toilet paper. “We’re going to win,” he told her, they both confirmed.

This year’s effort was particularly frantic, because used cars are in extraordinarily high demand after the pandemic crimped new car production. Even in more ordinary markets, there’s little breathing room on the budget, as Mr. Shiflet found out one year when he bought at auction a used sedan for his father to use in the race that couldn’t drive in reverse.

One vehicle didn’t make it to the start this year: A motorcycle expired mere feet from the starting line. Mr. Becker’s Beetle also needed emergency care. The alternator blew on the way to the starting line, sending him searching for a last-minute repair.

The firetruck and its five-man crew—two of whom had to ride on the cab’s

Mr. Becker, the experienced motorcycle racer, was the last to arrive, at around 4 a.m. on April 1, more than 12 hours later than the first finishers. He was in no laughing mood. “Frankly,” he said, “I think everyone else cheated.”

After a review of each team’s start and finish times, the Corvette was declared the winner by a 15-minute margin. The team, whose name contains two unprintable Spanish profanities, said it swapped for the car on Facebook Marketplace with winnings from a Super Bowl contest.

Per tradition, each team sold its clunker car in Las Vegas and then wagered the proceeds on a single roulette spin in the high-limit area. In interviews with The Wall Street Journal, an unlikely proportion of racers said they wound up winners from their spins.

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