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A Swiss Army Knife at the
Mid Atlantic RallyBy Tami Sutherland
[Tami Sutherland, an internet software developer, just moved
from Clearwater, FL to Grottoes, VA, no doubt inspired by her
affection for her LR3 and the famous Mid-Atlantic Rally. Here’s
her account of the October 2007 event –ed.]
Now let’s see, what do I have here? My rain jacket, umbrella, a new
pair of Wellies, a month-and-a-half worth of clothes; hmmm, maybe
I should bring an extra umbrella, just in case.
This was my first trip to the Mid-Atlantic Rally, also known by its
acronym, the MAR. I’ve heard plenty about this event in years past,
everything from major carnage adventures on the Pearls Pond trails,
to odd tales of blow up animals and urinal cakes in the Philly Rovers
circus tent (probably best not to ask more about that). The recollections
vary from person to person, but one detail remains constant in
everyone’s MAR memories: it’s wet, cold, soaking, drenching, rainy,
muddy mayhem, and it’s a blast. Prepared for the traditional MAR
forecast, I could hardly wait to head up to Virginia and see how they
work it on the east side, rain or shine.
Hitting Interstate 75 to begin the 1,100-mile hike northward, I’m
full of excitement and anticipation. I wonder how my LR3 will do.
Actually, I’m wondering more about how I will do. I’ve got a lot more
confidence in my Land Rover’s abilities than in my own to be honest.
I have found the LR3 to be incredible in its off-road abilities – me, not
so much. I’m what you call a ‘newbie.’
Four hours into the journey, I come to the small town of Alligator
Creek. Shoot, I’m still in Florida? At a stop light, a couple of somewhat
toothless creatures in a pick-up shout over to me, “is that there a
snorkel?” I give a little nod and smile, discreetly check my door
locks, and continue on my way.
Feeling a bit anxious about what lessons I will be learning at MAR
(hopefully none involve blow-up animals). I learn something new
every time I go off-road. I learn more about my Rover’s strengths and
limitations. I learn how to maneuver tougher obstacles and different
terrains, and am gradually becoming a better, more confident
off-roader. I’ve been lucky though, to have had experienced mentors
and spotters to put my full trust in, and I think that is key. I have
found the seasoned Land Rover crowd to be so knowledgeable,
encouraging, and genuinely helpful to newbies – listen and learn, and
try to absorb their wisdom.
After a short-ish jaunt through the southeast corner of Georgia,
I pass the ‘Welcome to South Carolina’ sign. A little fatigued, but
making progress – three states to go! I’m feeling a bit antsy, so crank
up the some Old Crow Medicine Show tunes. Another LR3 whizzes by
me. I catch up to them, thinking we could entertain each other for
a spell, but they won’t even look in my direction. Figures, they’re
46
probably in a hurry to the Macy’s White Sale, I think cynically.
There aren’t too many LR3s on the trails yet. We are pioneers of
sorts I suppose. This lends to some skepticism and curiosity to new
Land Rovers. I’ve sort of gotten used to the stares, snickers, and ‘It’s
too clean!’ jabs when I roll up. It used to freak me out, but many have
changed their tune some after going on the trails with me. Sure, the
LR3 may not be for everybody, and like all vehicles, it has its short
comings, but for me it is absolutely perfect – it’s the Swiss Army Knife
of Land Rovers.
As I near Charlotte, North Carolina, my MAR anticipation is
wearing thin, diverted by a sore rump, and major boredom. I can do
it, just 4 ½ hours to go. Good Lord.
Welcome to Virginia! I could kiss that sign. Suddenly I get a burst
of energy, jam to the Old Crow Medicine Show for the umpteenth time
with new vigor. I call my darling friend Dan Chapman and let him
know I’m almost there. I will be hanging with him and friends from
Philadelphia Rovers. They are such a wonderful fun-loving bunch and
I can’t wait to see them all again. Also looking forward to meeting
some of the other legendary characters I’ve heard about. Let the good
times begin!
On the drive to Pearls Pond, I follow Dan Chapman in his 1997
trail-blazing Discovery Series I, and Walter Dent with his dear
tent-mate Bobbi in his souped up 2000 Discovery Series II. We are
arriving to the campsite on Wednesday, so there is just a handful of
Rover heads around for the first night. We stake out a prime spot,
setting up camp near the legendary Philly Rover’s tent. Tonight we just
kick back and relax, have some drinks from the full bar, and help
stuff event envelopes. Steve Andrews, who drives a Series Land Rover
with a Corvette engine, entertains us under the stars with his
strumming and singing talents into the wee hours. Walter cooks us
some late-night Dutch oven pork chops. We have much fun.
In the morning my head is feeling thick, and I could use a strong
cuppa and a shower. Okay, scratch that, there are no showers.
The sun is shining and it’s starting to heat up. Lots of people are
starting to roll in now – in all, 305 Land Rovers attending and
600-700 people this year. Around the Philly Rovers area Suzanna and
Ivan Via arrive in their Discovery I (hers) and Range Rover Classic
(his), Jeff Bangs with his lovely wife Jennifer and baby daughter Abbi,
Will ‘The Rover Whisperer’ Tillery, Jason Johnson (thank you for the
use of your camp shower!), Allysa Brown in her 2005 Range Rover,
and quite a few others are setting up camp. I am introduced to Garrett
Porterfield and JB McClure. Oh, are they total comedians! Be
prepared to have some sore ribs and cheeks when you are around
these two.