I was going to compete in the 2011 Rallye Aicha Des Gazelles but a change of course has resulted in me attending the rally as a correspondent rather than competitor.

I will be doing my live show, Open Line Show, from Morocco as well as doing updates on Autoline Daily and Autotropolis, this  site and others (in the works). If I do well, enough, there may even be a print article.

If you would like the full story about my Gazelles journey, please click here. En français, cliquez ici. Otherwise, that is my announcement.

XOO,M

Le contexte

Il y a presque 1 an, j’ai quitté le monde automobile. En fait, j’ai essayé de le quitter. Ça n’a pas duré plus de quelques jours, j’en ai pleuré et je suis arrivée à la conclusion que ce n’était pas le bon moment. Pas encore.

Plusieurs facteurs m’avaient amenée à cette décision, à ce moment-là :

1.     Réaliser qu’un collègue proche pouvait attenter à mon estime personnelle et à ma personnalité, si ce n’est à ma vie. Et non, ce n’est pas une interprétation dramatique disproportionnée.

2.      Comprendre qu’en fait, j’atteignais un âge qui en lui-même deviendrait le sujet de mauvaises blagues, sachant que j’en connais quelques-uns dans le milieu de l’industrie automobile qui peuvent être particulièrement cruels. Je suis sur leur liste. C’est juste une question de temps avant qu’une occasion se présente (signe évident qu’ils n’ont rien d’autre de mieux à faire).

3.     Vérifier que ma « carrière » ne me comblait pas ou ne comblait même pas mes besoins de base. Un coup d’œil à mon compte en banque suffisait.

4.     Je pris peur.

Cependant, alors qu’on pourrait probablement relier le point 4 aux 3 premiers, en toute objectivité ce qui m’a vraiment traumatisée, ce sont les réactions à un article que j’ai écrit l’année dernière à propos du Rallye Aïcha des Gazelles. Des filles ont triché. Rétrospectivement, il se peut qu’elles aient triché depuis des années. Elles avaient gagné le rallye mais elles ont été disqualifiées à la fin. C’était la réalité. J’ai écrit là-dessus. J’ai été menacée. Harcelée. J’ai eu peur. Être menacée pour des choses sans importance fait partie des fardeaux de la vie, il n’empêche qu’il faut quand même décider si on prend le parti de fuir ou celui de se défendre. Dans ce cas précis, je me suis cachée.

J’avais une nouvelle amie qui croyait en moi. Elle m’appelait et parlait avec moi. En général, elle était dans le vrai. Elle me poussait, mais doucement. Elle m’incita à lui parler et en effet je commençais à me confier et non plus seulement à bavarder comme je le fais d’habitude. Elle était réelle et pas seulement un nom surgi de l’ordinateur. Elle aimait me consacrer du temps dans la vraie vie.

Quand le moment arriva de préparer le Rallye Aïcha des Gazelles 2011, je pensais d’abord que je me contenterais à nouveau d’en assurer la couverture mais mon amie attendait plus de moi. Moi-même j’en attendais plus, pour tant de raisons, et je décidai de tenter ma chance. Mon expérience de l’année passée m’avait un peu effrayée mais je voulais affronter cette peur. Quelque part, je savais que ce voyage au Maroc changerait ma vie. En particulier, je savais que ma relation « à épisodes » de 6 ans ne durerait pas jusqu’au départ du rallye. Mais c’était un voyage que je devais faire.

Je fis la connaissance par téléphone de ma « parfaite » copilote. Elle était excentrique, amicale, enthousiaste et mis sur la table un CV qui nous assurait de trouver ensemble des sponsors. Elle avait beaucoup d’amis sur Facebook donc elle devait valoir le coup non ? Nous commençâmes à monter le projet.

La première étape importante consistait à nous entrainer dans les Dunes Impériales près de Glamis, à la mi-janvier 2011. Nous devions rencontrer l’autre équipage américain, le team Lerner-Reina, et passer quelques jours à conduire, apprenant à aborder les dunes et nous plongeant dans les techniques de navigation qui sont capitales pour ce raid d’orientation. Bien que le stage ait été planifié plusieurs mois à l’avance, la semaine précédente ma copilote insista sur le fait que le moment était mal choisi car c’était un WE de nettoyage des déchets dans cette zone. Elle me dit que si cela ne pouvait pas se faire ce WE-là, ça ne la dérangeait pas parce qu’elle sentait que ce n’était pas « le bon moment » pour elle de toute façon. Cela m’irrita. Je savais que cela ne pouvait avoir lieu qu’à ce moment-là. Une équipe de 4 personnes se déplaçait pour nous former. Ils avaient demandé des permis, loué un camping-car, acheté la nourriture et aménagé un endroit pour camper. Il y avait seulement 4 élèves. 2 équipages. Les XXX $ que coutait le stage à chacune d’entre nous couvriraient à peine les honoraires du prof de navigation (vous n‘avez  pas besoin de savoir combien a touché l’instructeur, sachez seulement que nous n’avons pas payé le prix). Les 2 autres profs enseignaient complètement bénévolement, par amour du Rallye. Toutes les 2 semblent avoir été contaminées par le virus de l’esprit Gazelles.

Signaux d’alarme

Le stage a bien eu lieu et en dépit de ses réticences à participer, ma coéquipière est parvenue à faire financer son billet d’avion jusqu’à San Diego par quelqu’un (le « Sponsor »). J’ai payé pour sa chambre d’hôtel à San Diego puisqu‘elle est arrivée en avance sur notre départ pour le désert. J’ai payé la location de la Jeep pour le stage. J’ai payé l’essence pour la Jeep de location. On m’a dit que je serais remboursée par le Sponsor.

Pendant le stage, j’ai eu le sentiment qu’elle était distraite et non préparée, dans le meilleur des cas. C’était la répétition générale du Rallye et elle avait oublié des éléments essentiels pourtant spécifiquement listés. Frontale, masque, lunettes, médicaments, duvet, matelas, boussole, crayons et stylos étaient tous perdus, oubliés ou manquants dans ses affaires. Je commençais à penser qu’elle ne prenait pas tout ceci au sérieux.

Durant le stage de navigation, j’ai eu l’impression qu’elle était à côté de la plaque. Elle avait oublié ses lunettes si bien qu’elle ne pouvait pas lire les cartes en français des années 50 qui nous devons utiliser.

Je me posais des questions sur notre capacité à agir en sécurité et professionnellement. Rétrospectivement, je me dis que c’était des signes indiquant qu’elle ne prenait pas cet événement aussi au sérieux que nous autres.

Mon amie me conjura d’être patiente. Elle était convaincue que ma copilote était seulement nerveuse et serait moins distraite une fois dans le désert. Mais au fond de moi, mon instinct me disait que quelque chose n’allait pas. Je ne me sentais pas en sécurité.

Entretemps, ma coéquipière me dit que nous avions un sponsoring. Assez conséquent. Suffisamment pour couvrir toutes nos dépenses. Je cherchais un véhicule. J’argumentais auprès de mes contacts dans l’industrie automobile. Encore et encore. La date limite pour le paiement de l’inscription approchait. Ma copilote était en charge de cette opération. Elle était seule à connaître les coordonnées de nos sponsors. Elle m’avait juste donné une vague liste de marques et l’assurance que les 17 000 $ d’inscription et de location des balises satellite seraient transférés à l’organisation du rallye en France.

Le jour où elle était supposée faire le virement, je l’appelais, sans succès. Finalement elle appela vers 14h30 pour moi, 15h30 pour elle à cause du décalage horaire. Elle commença à m’expliquer qu’elle avait la gueule de bois parce qu’elle avait bu et discuté sur Skype avec une amie jusqu’à 6 heures du matin. Elle avait besoin d’une douche. Je l’interrogeais à propos du transfert d’argent, elle me répondit qu’elle attendait après moi. Qu’elle avait besoin d’informations à mon sujet. Je savais que l’organisation américaine pour le Rallye lui avait déjà dit qu’elle n’avait besoin d’aucune information me concernant pour faire le virement mais elle insista pour avoir mon N° de passeport, mon adresse et bizarrement, mon N° de sécurité sociale, que personne n’a besoin de fournir pour s’inscrire. Au fond de moi, quelque chose me dit de ne pas lui donner. Elle fit machine arrière sur le fait d’avoir besoin de ces informations. Elle me dit qu’elle partait pour la banque et je lui dis d’être prudente et de m’appeler quand elle serait rentrée.

Le lendemain matin en allumant mon ordinateur, je trouvais un message envoyé depuis son compte Skype. Ça disait « Michele, c’est XXXXX. Maman a été prise dans un accident vraiment grave… cet après-midi. Un semi-remorque a éclaté un pneu, a traversé l’autoroute et l’a percutée de plein fouet. Elle a 2 vertèbres fracturées et des disques abimés entre L3 et L4, ainsi qu’au niveau de D1 et D9. Elle pouvait sentir et bouger les doigts des mains et des pieds. Ils l’ont opérée pour réparer tout ça et elle est sortie du bloc vers minuit. Le chirurgien dit que le nerf sciatique a été endommagé mais ils ont pu le suturer, il n’y a plus qu’à attendre maintenant. Ils vont la placer en coma artificiel demain pour qu’elle reste tranquille au moins une journée, qu’elle ne bouge pas et ne s’en aille pas. Manifestement ça ne servirait à rien de l’appeler et de toute façon elle est catégorique sur le fait de préserver son anonymat, elle n’a pas autorisé qu’on mette son nom au tableau. Je vous tiendrai informée. Elle est aussi pas mal confuse. Elle n’arrêtait pas de demander si sa coiffure et son maquillage étaient en désordre. Encore et encore et encore… ça va aller je le sais. Ça me fait très peur. Je savais que vous voudriez être prévenue. Y a-t-il d’autres personnes que je devrais contacter ? »

Et après un moment, elle ajouta : « Maman pense que vous êtes une des plus jolies personnes qu’elle ait rencontrées. Elle projetait de venir vous voir vendredi mais maintenant ça ne va plus être possible. Je suis tellement désolée pour elle. Elle était tellement excitée. Merci de me dire si je dois m’occuper de quelque chose pour elle jusqu’à ce qu’elle en soit de nouveau capable. »

J’en étais malade. Elle était en route pour la banque pour nous. J’ai emmené ma fille à l’école et quand je suis revenue, la fille (de ma coéquipière) m’avait envoyé un nouveau message. J’ai eu une longue conversation avec elle, via le compte Skype de sa mère. Elle m’a dit dans quel hôpital elle était, sous quel nom elle était enregistrée et le nom de son chien. Beaucoup d’informations personnelles que seule une fille peut connaître. Quand elle m’a quittée pour aller à l’hôpital puis à son travail, je me suis dit que je devais prévenir le Sponsor (qui avait payé pour son stage et son voyage à San Diego). Je lui ai envoyé un DM sur Twitter et elle m’a rappeée quelques minutes plus tard. Elle semblait préoccupée mais distante. Elle m’ajouta comme amie sur Facebook et en contact sur Skype, insistant pour que je fasse de même. Elle me demanda de lui envoyer par email la retranscription de mes échanges sur Skype avec la fille de ma coéquipière. Je lui envoyais tout ce que j’avais.

A ce stade, je me sentais impuissante. Même le Sponsor avait dit qu’elle était désolée pour moi à propos du Rallye. Le fait que je n’avais aucun moyen de contacter les principaux sponsors m’apparut peu à peu.  Je n’imaginais pas que ma copilote, même en coma artificiel, ne voudrait pas que je poursuive notre rêve commun de participer au Rallye. Mon amie appela le Sponsor et elles parlèrent longuement. J’écoutais sur Skype, assommée mais attentive à mon amie essayant de m’aider alors qu’elles discutaient de l’accident et de ses conséquences. Je pensais à toutes les questions à poser à la fille de ma coéquipière à propos de son rétablissement, du rallye et de nos sponsors, et je lui envoyais un message via Skype. Je n’avais aucune idée de quel nom (parmi les nombreux noms que ma coéquipière utilise professionnellement) avait été utilisé accolé au mien pour solliciter des sponsors.

Et brusquement et bizarrement, le Sponsor me bloqua sur Skype. Et sur Facebook. Et sur Twitter. Simultanément, je consultais la page Facebook de ma coéquipière : bloquée. Twitter : bloquée. Skype : bloquée. Je rafraichissait mon navigateur et regardait les pages disparaître. Pour autant que je sache, ma copilote était en coma artificiel.

Ce fut une longue journée et les suivantes ne furent pas moins intenses. L’après-midi suivant l’accident, ma copilote posta sur Twitter et Facebook qu’elle allait bien. Elle accusa les réseaux sociaux d’être responsables (du blocage des comptes). Le lendemain, elle posta une note sur Facebook dans laquelle elle annonçait publiquement avoir décidé de ne pas participer au Rallye.

Ce n’est que 4 jours complets après que j’aie prononcé les mots « Soit prudente. Appelle-moi quand tu seras revenue de la banque » que j’eus de ses nouvelles. Elle m’appela et dit : « J’essaie de comprendre ce qui est en train de se passer, p***** ! » (comme si j’avais la moindre explication concernant son récent non-accident de voiture et le silence qui avait suivi). Elle dit que ses comptes avaient été piratés et que sa fille ne m’avait jamais contactée. Je ne peux pas expliquer ce que j’ai ressenti, sauf que c’était vraiment bizarre. D’un côté, j’étais soulagée qu’elle ne soit finalement pas blessée mais en même temps je réalisais le mal qu’elle m’avait fait en n’assumant pas sa décision de ne pas participer au Rallye.

Quand je lui demandais si elle avait viré les fonds pour l’inscription au rallye, elle me dit que non. Elle avait changé d’avis sur le chemin de la banque. Dommage qu’elle ne se soit pas préoccupée de me le dire. La date limite pour s’inscrire était passée. L’idée que je ne serais pas une Gazelle cette année commença à faire son chemin dans mon esprit.

D’après son article sur Facebook, elle gardait l’argent des sponsors pour démarrer un vague projet à but non lucratif. Elle revendiquait également avoir levé 30 000 $ de plus que ce dont nous avions besoin. Ce qui veut dire qu’elle avait levé presque 50 000 $ en nos 2 noms ? Les termes du règlement de pré-inscription stipulent que cet argent doit être rendu aux sponsors ou versés à une organisation non lucrative. Comme je l’ai dit, elle a monté sa propre structure non lucrative.

J’avais encore mes billets d’avion et un peu d’argent de ma famille, je lui ai donc dit que j’allais quand même au Maroc. Si je ne pouvais pas trouver une nouvelle copilote, alors je couvrirais la course depuis les coulisses. En tant que bloggeuse. En tant que journaliste. En tant que n’importe quoi me permettant d’approcher le Rallye au plus près (ces titres sont un moyen pas une fin ; ils ne me définissent pas). Elle me dit qu’elle me considérait comme une amie. Je lui dis qu’elle aurait pu me prévenir bien plus tôt qu’elle ne voulait pas partir. Cela mit fin à notre conversation téléphonique, ainsi qu’à notre amitié.

Durant ce dernier coup de fil, je lui avais demandé de me donner les coordonnées des sponsors afin de leur envoyer au moins un mot de remerciement. Elle fut d’accord pour me les envoyer, en même temps que d’autres choses. A ce jour, je n’ai rien reçu de ce qu’elle avait promis, et n’ai plus entendu parler d’elle. Je ne suis même pas sûre qu’il y ait eu aucun sponsor en réalité.

La nouvelle approche

Maintenant je prépare mes bagages d’après la liste fournie aux journalistes au lieu de celle destinée aux participantes. Des messages de compassion, de sympathie et de soutien me sont parvenus des organisatrices, de participantes, de collègues, de futures Gazelles, d’anciennes Gazelles et d’amis. Il en ressort qu’ils sont tous content de me voir là-bas. Ma crainte des répercussions de l’article de l’année dernière à propos des tricheuses était infondée.  Je dois appréhender le Rallye du point de vue le plus proche de celui que j’aurais eu depuis l’habitacle d’un 4×4. Je dois rencontrer toutes les Gazelles. Je vais dormir dans les dunes pendant les étapes marathon de la course avec un de mes héros et un des piliers du Fan Club des Gazelles. Je ressens déjà leur état d’esprit.

Et donc, en plus de faire mes bagages, je dois commencer à écrire les mots de remerciements à tous les sponsors que je devrai approcher de nouveau pour 2012, les fabricants qui ont tiré des ficelles et envoyé des messages partout dans le monde pour nous trouver un véhicule ainsi que les collègues que j’ai suppliés pour une recommandation ou un sponsoring.

Bien des personnes de mon entourage ont été blessées par tout ça. Ce n’est jamais facile quand quelqu’un trahit la confiance ou sabote un projet, particulièrement quand c’est un travail d’équipe. Ça a été émotionnellement perturbant pour tous ceux concernés par cette succession d’évènements.

Je me sens encore perturbée. Par moment la semaine dernière, mon cerveau me disait que tout ça était la faute des tricheuses du Rallye qui m’ont menacée, des collègues qui ne m’apprécient pas ou de ma désormais ex-moitié (comme prévu, notre relation n’a pas tenu jusqu’au rallye). Mais ça n’a rien à voir avec ces personnes. C’est ma faute, pour ne pas avoir écouté mon instinct à propos de tous ces gens, y compris mon ex-copilote qui a toujours su au fond d’elle-même qu’elle ne serait jamais une Gazelle. Ils sont derrière moi à présent. J’y vois plus clair maintenant. Désormais j’écouterai mon instinct et le défendrai même face à mes amis les plus proches.

Au moment où davantage d’américaines prennent part au Rallye, j’espère que ceci n’entachera pas leur participation.

Je suis une vraie personne. Je travaille sur le web mais je travaille vraiment. Ma vie est réelle. J’ai des supporters. Je ne me cache pas derrière des pseudonymes ou des chats.

Je ne laisse pas tomber. Je termine ce que j’ai commencé. Je suis une Gazelle. Ceci est mon voyage.

The Background

Almost a year ago, I quit the automotive world. Well, I tried to quit. It didn’t last more than a few days, made myself cry and left me feeling like it just wasn’t the time. Yet.

What led to that moment in time was a combination of a few things:

1. Realization that a close colleague could prove fatal to my character and self-respect, if not my life. And no, that is not an overly dramatic interpretation.

2. Understanding that I was, in fact, reaching that age when just my age alone would become a running joke and that I am aware of a few in the automotive industry outskirts who can be particularly cruel. I am on their list. Just a matter of time before the circle back around to me about something. (Sure sign that they have nothing better to do.)

3. Verification that my so-called career was not covering my nut, my nest or my basics needs. One look in my bank account was all that it took.

4. I became afraid.

Now, while we could probably attribute the first 3 things to number 4, in all fairness, what had me really spooked was reaction to an article I wrote last year about the Rallye Aicha des Gazelles. Some girls cheated. They might have cheated for years, in retrospect. They had won the rally but been disqualified in the end. It was true. I wrote about it. I got threatened. Harassed. I felt fear. Being threatened about things that are frivolous are part and parcel of life but you still have to decide if you are going to run or defend yourself. In this case, I hid.

I had a new-ish friend who believed in me. She would call me and talk to me about me. She was usually right. She pushed me, but gently. She made me talk to her and I actually started talking and not just prattling on like I normally do. She was real and not a name speaking from behind a computer. She liked spending time with me in real life.

When it came time to begin planning for the 2011 Rallye Aicha des Gazelles, I assumed at first that my participation would be to cover it again but my friend expected more of me. I expected more of me too for so many reasons and I decided to try and go. Last year’s experience had me a little scared but I wanted to meet that fear head-on. I knew in the back of my brain that my journey to Morocco would change my life. I especially knew that my 6-year, on-again-off-again relationship wouldn’t last until the beginning of the rally. This was a journey that I had to make.

I was introduced over the phone to my “perfect” co-driver. She was quirky, friendly, enthusiastic and brought a resume to the table that would ensure that we could gain sponsorship together. She had a lot of Facebook friends so she must be okay, right? We began to plan.

The first event was to be our training in Imperial Dunes, near Glamis, in mid-January, 2011. We were to meet the other US team, Team Lerner Reina, and spend a few days driving, getting instruction on the dunes and the rally and delve into the navigation techniques that are so essential to this point-to-point style raid. Although the training had been planned a couple of months in advance, the week before it was to take place, my co-driver insisted it was a bad weekend because of a trash clean-up event taking place in the area. She told me that if it didn’t happen that weekend, she was fine with it because she didn’t feel it was a “good time” for her anyways. I was irritated. I knew that it had to be then. There was a staff of 4 people who were showing up to instruct us. They had pulled permits, rented a toy-hauler/camper, purchased food and arranged for a camping spot. There were only 4 pupils. Two teams total. The $XXX-odd dollars that the training cost each of us would barely cover the navigation trainer’s fees. (You don’t need to know how much the trainer makes. You just need to know that we didn’t pay enough.) The other two trainers were completely unpaid, teaching for their love of the rally. Both of them appeared to be stricken with that little bug called the Gazelles’ Spirit.

Red Flags

The training did happen and despite my co-driver’s reticence to attend, she solicited monies from an individual (the “Sponsor”) to pay for her flight down to San Diego. I paid for her hotel room in San Diego since she arrived before we needed to depart for the desert. I paid for the Jeep rental for training. I paid for the fuel for the Jeep rental for training. I was told that I would be reimbursed by the Sponsor.

At training, I felt that she was distracted and unprepared, at best. This was a dress rehearsal for the real rally and essential items were forgotten that were specifically on our checklist. Headlamp, goggles, glasses, medications, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, compass, pens and pencils were all lost, forgotten or omitted from her belongings. I began to have concerns that she wasn’t taking it seriously at all.

At navigation training, I felt like she zoned out. She had forgotten her glasses so she couldn’t see the 1950s maps in French that we are required to use.

My concerns were about our ability to perform professionally and safely. In retrospect, I believe that these were all signs that she wasn’t taking the event as seriously as the others, including myself.

My friend urged me to be patient. She believed that my co-driver was just nervous and would be less distracted once we were in the desert. My gut told me that there was something wrong with all of this. I wasn’t feeling safe.

Meanwhile, I was told by my co-driver that we had sponsorship. Quite a bit. Enough to cover our expenses. I was seeking a truck. I reached out and harangued automotive industry contacts. Endlessly. The deadline approached for the final rally fees to be wired. My co-driver was in charge of this transaction. Only she knew the actual contacts of our sponsors. I just had a vague list of brands from her and the assurance that the $17,000 for our entry fees and satellite tracking equipment would be covered in wire to the rally organizers in France.

The day that she was to send the wire, I called her and got no answer. Finally, about 2:30 in the afternoon PST, she called. She is on MST. She started telling me how hungover she was because she stayed up until 6am on Skype with a friend, drinking. She wanted a shower. I asked her about the wire transfer and she said she was waiting on me. She said she needed my information. I knew that the US organizer for the rally had already told her she didn’t need any of my information for the wire transfer but my co-driver insisted that she needed my passport number, address and, strangely, my social security number; the latter being a number no one needs to submit. My gut wouldn’t let me give it to her. She relented on needing my information. She said she was leaving for the bank and I told her to be careful and to call me when she got back home.

The following morning, I turned on my computer to find an IM from her Skype account. It read, “Michele, it’s XXXXX. Mom was ina really bad accident going … this afternoon. A semi blew a tire, and came across the freeway and broadsided her.  Two of her vertabres are broken, and bone went into the discs above and below L# and L4 and T1 and T9 have some damage to the discs. She could feel and move her finger and toes.They did surgery on her to fix it, ad she got out at around midnight. The surgeon said her sciatic nerve was severed, but they were able to reconnect it, all we can do is wait now. They will put her into an induce coma tomorrow to keep her still,for a day or so, so she doesn’t move and go from there.  It won’t do any good to call her obviously, and she is adament about her privacy anyway and never has allowed her namee to be on the roster or what ever you call it. I will keep you posted. She also has a pretty good conciusion. She kept asking if her hair and makeup were messed up. Over and Over and Over. … She will be ok I know. It scares me a lot. I knew you would want to know. Do you know of other people I need to contact?”

And then after a bit, she added, “Mom thinks you are one of the neatest people she ever meant. She was planning on leaving Friday to go see you, but that won’t happen now. I feel so bad for her. She was so excited. Please let me know if I need to take care of anything for her until she can.”

I was sick. She was on her way to the bank for us. I took my daughter to school and when I came back, the daughter had IMed again. I had a long conversation with her via IM, through her mother’s Skype account. She told me which hospital she was in, which name she was registered under and the name of her dog. A lot of personal information that only a daughter could know.  After she left to go by the hospital and on to her job, it occurred to me that I needed to tell the Sponsor (who had paid for her training and trip to San Diego). I sent a direct message to her on Twitter and she called me back minutes later. She sounded concerned but distant. She also friended me on Facebook and added me to Skype, urging me to add her. She asked me to email her the transcript of the Skype chat with my co-driver’s daughter. I sent her everything I had.

At this point, I felt helpless. Even the Sponsor had said that she felt bad for me about the rally. The fact that I had no contact info for any of the big sponsors sank in. Even with my co-driver in an induced coma, I never thought that she wouldn’t want me to follow our mutual dream of driving in the rally. My friend called the “sponsor” and they spoke at length. I was listening on Skype; stunned but listening to my friend try and help while they discussed the accident and the implications on their cell phones, I thought of the list of questions to ask the daughter about my co-driver’s recovery, the rally and our sponsors, so I sent them through Skype via IM. I had no idea which of the many names my co-drivers works under had been used along with my name to solicit sponsorship.

And suddenly and oddly, the Sponsor blocked me on Skype. And on Facebook. And on Twitter. Simultaneously, I looked at my co-driver’s Facebook: blocked. Twitter: blocked. Skype: blocked. I refreshed my browser and watched as pages disappeared. My co-driver was in an induced coma as far as I was aware.

It was a long day and the following days proved no less intense. My co-driver posted on both Twitter and Facebook the afternoon after the accident that she was just fine. She blamed social media for something. The following day, she posted a Facebook note in which she publicly announced that she had made a decision to not participate in the rally.

It wasn’t until a full 4 days after I had said the words, “Be careful. Call me when you get back from the bank,” that I heard from her. She called me and said, “I am trying to figure out what the F*** is going on!” (As if I had some explanation for her recent non-car accident and subsequent silence.) She said that her accounts had been hijacked and that her daughter never contacted me. I can’t explain my feelings except to say that it was weird. On one hand, I was so grateful that she wasn’t actually hurt but at the same time, it began dawning on me how much she had hurt me by not being upfront about her decision to not participate in the rally.

When I asked if she had wired the funds to the rally for registration, she told me that she hadn’t; she had changed her mind on the way to the bank. Sadly, she hadn’t bothered to tell me. The deadline had passed to get our entry fees in. This feeling started sinking in: I wasn’t a Gazelle this year.

According to her Facebook note, she was taking the money from the sponsors and starting a vague non-profit. She also claimed that she had raised an additional $30,000.00 above what we needed. That means that she raised almost $50,000.00 in both of our names? Terms of the pre-registration agreement states that this money must be returned to the sponsors or donated to a non-profit. As I mentioned, she is starting her own non-profit.

I still had my flights and some money from family members so I told her I was still going to Morocco. If I couldn’t find another new co-driver, I would instead be covering the race from the sidelines. As a blogger. As a journalist. As whatever would get me closest to the rally. (Those titles are a means to an end. They don’t define me.) She told me that she valued me as a friend. I told her that she should have told me days before that she didn’t want to go. Our phone call and friendship ended.

I had asked her on that final phone call for the contact information for the sponsors so that I could at least write a thank you note. She agreed to send that, along with other  items. To date, I have yet to receive anything she promised or any further communication from her. I don’t even have confirmation if there were any real sponsors at all.

The New Approach

Now, I am packing according the list provided to journalists, instead that of competitors. Messages of confusion, sympathy and support have come in from organizers, competitors, colleagues, future competitors, past competitors and friends. Turns out that they are all just happy to have me there. My fear of repercussions from last year’s article about the cheaters was unfounded fear. I get to scope out the rally from the next best place to the cockpit of a truck. I get to meet all of the Gazelles. I will sleep in the dunes for the marathon legs of the race with one of my heroes and someone who is a solid member of the Gazelle’s Fan Club. I can already feel their spirit.

And so, in addition to packing, I must start my thank you notes to all of the equipment sponsors who I will have to approach again for 2012, the manufacturers who pulled strings and sent messages around the world finding us a truck and the colleagues who I begged for introductions and sponsorship.

A lot of people besides me were hurt by all of this. It is never easy when anyone betrays a trust or sabotages a goal, especially when the goal is a team effort. It has been emotionally confusing for every one that this series of events has touched.

I still feel unsettled. At times, last week, my brain told me that all of this was the result of the rally cheaters who threatened me, colleagues who dislike me, or my now former significant other (as predicted, our relationship didn’t last until the rally). It was not a result of any of those people. This was my fault for not listening to my gut instinct about all of those people, including my former co-driver who always knew inside that she would never be a Gazelle. They are now behind me. I know better now. I will listen to my gut instinct and defend it, even to my closest friends.

As more Americans join the rally, I hope that this does not leave a stain on their presence at the rally.

I am a real person. I work online, but I do work. I have a real life. I have supporters. I don’t hide behind pseudonyms or chatrooms.

I don’t quit. I finish what I start. I am a Gazelle. This is my journey.

The Open Line Show had its official introduction in today’s edition of Autoline Daily!

Today on Episode 385 of Autoline Daily, BMW posts a first-quarter profit of $424 million. There’s a new proposal in Congress that would force the major U.S. banks to pay for any losses from the automotive bailout. Toyota says it needs to improve how it communicates with buyers and better educate them how to use their vehicles. All that and more, plus a look at a new show called Open Line, that gives you the chance to say what you think about cars and the automotive industry.

Subscribe to Podcast | | | | Listen on Phone

It never happened.

I was too busy to stop and consider why I just ignored that Spring or the Summer of swimsuit weather that followed or the following 4 years of Springs and Summers (with an occasional compromise in swimsuits I would have called fat suits in my younger years). The wax melted off my surfboard because I left it outside. Neglected it, is more like it. I stopped dancing in public. Heck, it became increasingly rare for me to go in public. I stopped singing in the car. My daughter went from 11 to 16 almost without me. I convinced myself that when I was headed towards an airplane ramp that I was never happier, whether it was taking me away from home or pointed back towards the house I increasingly despised.

The thing that kept me busy and constantly in a state of stress (or absolute delight, depending on the day) was my big fake career. I had a career in the automotive industry, dammit! I denied being a blogger but refused to call myself a journalist. I pleaded that, “I am just me, MissMotorMouth and that is enough!” People needed me to tell them the truth and I found myself the perfect person to be the Queen of Honest. Okay, that was self-appointed but I worked hard at putting myself in the center of whatever I thought needed to be stripped bare whether is was dealers doing good deeds, manufacturers showing their human side or auto journalists telling me about their cats and, of course all of the proceeding misbehaving.

Flash forward to a race in Morocco; all women driving off road in a challenge that is more about self achievement as they push themselves through elements that would make most men cry than it is about winning a big trophy and exploding bottles of champagne. The efforts around the rally bring awareness to women as athletes. Heck, it brings awareness that all racecar drivers are athletes. The people of Morocco benefit from parallel humanitarian assistance that spreads the circumference of 3 weeks in a landscape that can only be referred to as harsh. This is one race that can only be described as more of an event of achieving a self-challenge with a footnote to a competition.

After 20 years, this race has done more good than not. It is the first automotive event to be given granted ISO 14001 certification for its environmental mandate. Thousands of the Moroccan poor are given medical treatments by the accompanying rally support crew of doctors and nurses. Micro-start ups ethically employing women and encouraging fair-trade self-sufficiency get earmarked for prize money that comes from race participants who win certain challenges. 110 teams of women prepared for what must have seemed like a lifetime of anticipation to just get to Morocco and head out of Essouria for 9 days of mental and physical challenges that would end in celebrations, tears, broken trucks, bruised egos and personal victories. My personal assignment was to get more US women interested in the race because I am fascinated by the event and so I wrote about it, Tweeted it, Facebooked it and, in the end, nearly flogged it to death.

The pickle started when the race organizers got in a bit of a situation this year. It seems that one of the teams, a team who had won before and that was set to win again, had lost sight of what the rally was about and was caught manipulating the mechanical devices that race officials use to monitor the success of each leg of the cross country rally. The team a installed a device in their electric odometer that allowed them to turn it off and on at will so that they could stay on top. Race officials became suspicious when they could not match the Iritrack data to that of the odometer. That is the technical term for what the rest of us would call cheating.

Now, these bright young women did not ever publicly deny that they did this, as far as I am aware. As in many crisis, almost everyone else involved somehow stumbled. Despite announcing the news of the discovery of misbehavior and consequences to all present at a meeting at the end of the rally, the race organizers proceeded to go about the business of celebrating 20 years of successful events. They had decided to disqualify the team and ban them from future races. They didn’t want this bruise or deface their accomplishments or those of everyone who supports the race and they refused to make a statement about it publicly. Teams who had competed in this year’s race began circulating the ugly truth about the disqualification. Somehow, in all of this mess, the truth got to me first. So, I did what every self-respecting wannabe journalist does these days: I tweeted it. The reaction was a stunned silence with only the sound of re-tweets pinging around the world.

In that silence I decided that, as Queen, the truth had to be told about the women who had brought frustration and anger to the event and it was my responsibility to be the one to tell the story.

I published a story on my website. I called it an article. I named the women and I called them names on top of that. I was very proud of myself. Women who had raced in previous years began crawling out to tell me their stories of cheating in previous years. Race teams from other events began calling with their similar stories at the races they compete in half way around the world. Manufacturers began pointing fingers at other sponsors, privately and off record questioning other manufacturer/sponsors. The team at the brunt of this had their own race truck referred to as not being a sign of sponsorship by the manufacturer who had let these women race under their banner for so long. A friend of the women sent me emails in desperation, denying any wrong doing by the team. They threatened me. They demanded that I bring down the article. I watched as the visits to my site had tripled my average daily readers and it had an international flavor now. The race organizers sat in silence as my article started getting referred to as a source and was written about on other sites, including the New York Times. I did a whole segment on a weekly podcast and got people who didn’t previously care about the race all riled up. Isn’t that a success? I got the rally attention!

People started getting in trouble and it wasn’t me. I could not get in trouble because I don’t have to reveal my sources and if I used that carefully placed word “allegedly”, then I am above accusations of slander and the law. I was not only Queen, I was a goddess. And I just ruined a lot of people’s year.

This all started to get to me and I made my blog private so that no one could see it for the time but, I made a promise to myself and anyone who would listen that I would be vindicated and return with my guns blazing. I deleted my tweets where I called the women names. I stopped talking about it out loud online as much but I was angry and spoke about it to friends. Ad nauseum. I learned that some friends think that in sportsmanship, you are cheating until you get caught. I learned how much people dislike people of certain countries. I learned what great internet stalkers my friends were as they searched for pieces of the humans on the web under the names of the team and their friend who threatened me. I learned that I had set in place discouragement in athletes who were deciding if they would even participate in future events. What seemed like a success before was now not-so-much because you can’t have a rally if no one shows up.

And then it happened. With a simple statement after all of the storm that I had caused, the race organizers did the right thing and they fessed up to what had happened. It was revealed that the team admitted fault to the organizers. The organizers put the word out that I was free to discuss the events. I made my hidden article public again and I was referred to as “célèbre blogueuse et twitteuse passionnée”, meaning a famous blogger & passionate Twitterer in a French article about the whole debacle. Wow. I was sort of big in another language for a brief bit but the attention and page views were eerily empty feeling.

But here is the reality after a few days of introspection and inspiration:

The women went into denial the moment that they decided that, in a race against distance and themselves, that they could appear to be physically and mentally the best athletes that they could possibly be by interfering with mechanical equipment. The race organizers wanted their event to stay in perfection forever with no criticism because they want the race to grow and bring the benefits to Morocco that it does. The motorsports sponsor of the team turned its back on the team. The friend of the team disqualified team thought that by bullying a mom writing from her sofa, the truth could be rewritten.

None of these people were in the right but I forgive them and offer my apologies for my part in the way that it all unfolded. And here is why:

I woke up after all this.  I have gained the weight and ignored my health but I am still young-ish and not obese (read: I can exercise). I let years with my daughter slide by while I ran, traveling with my ego, so that I didn’t have to decide whether our house was truly our home after years of a painful, needless lawsuit. I let things slip all around me. I allowed people to love me even while I pushed them away because I couldn’t admit that they were worried about me. I realized that I am just a blogger and that anyone can start a blog. I remembered that I am an artist and I love to draw, not pretend to be writing all of the time. I understood that I kept my daughter isolated from friends and family in lieu of my big fake career that my mother, so generously, pays for me to play pretend. She has been good like that and always has been.

In other words, I am no better or worse than a team of athletes who were afraid that they were not good enough and so they pretended and manipulated a way to be good enough and in the end, lost the ability to ever get a chance at redemption in that race. I feel for them that no one offered them the advice that there is a better way than being in self-denial but I am not sure what those feelings are yet. I do understand how they surrounded themselves with advisors and crew members who would support their self denial but not what set that in motion. Hey, Team 138? I am unemployable too and on my way here, I upset a lot of people.

The Rallye Aicha de Gazelles was a success this year and the participants believe that the unfortunate incident of cheating does not overshadow what a great rally it is. Life goes on and everyone is already in preparation for the 21^st rally. Many US women have contacted me that they are ready to go be a part of the event. Maybe I did do some good things in the middle of all of this.

I don’t know if this will be my last article but I do know that I love what I have been doing despite the times when I have stumbled. I want to continue the podcast and my webcast and move back home to Texas, help my mom run her antique business, actually make a living, let my daughter be around family and lifelong friends and visit my automotive friends in Dallas. Most people don’t know this but I used to be an antique and fine art appraiser so it is like going home in more than one way. Living there I can still share my knowledge and passion of the auto industry in my spare time and maybe, just maybe, I can drive in that race in Morocco one day but still be a productive person in the meantime. Above all, living there, I know that if I ever tried to stick an electronic device to the odometer of my life in order to deceive myself, my mother would have my hide.

Who knows. Maybe I will start a little blog about my new life when I get there. In the meantime, I have a 9’2″ surfboard for sale if anyone is interested.

What is usually a festive atmosphere around the highly competitive (and usually ripe with camaraderie) finish of the annual Rallye de Aicha Gazelles is a little bit lower this year after the winning team (and this is where it gets ironic), Team Toyota, was disqualified the final day for cheating the entire 9-day race.

It seems that a Toyota team claiming that there is a mechanical malfunction at fault is just about as ironic as it gets in light of the recent technical malfunctions Toyota has been battling through, but after 40 hours of analysis, race officials have allegedly determined that driver Corentine Quinou and navigator Florence Migraine Bourgnon were manually manipulating the iritrack (satellite tracking device) and odometer of their Toyota Land Cruiser. Reports from Morocco said that the women have a highly unique way of “racing” and hung back most legs but would enter the daily end of leg locations (biovacs) with atypically high scores for catching every check point flag in the shortest distances and in the quickest times.

The Gazelles rally was a lot more difficult this year: road books that are normally full of the 1950′s maps of the landscape (in French, mind you) were basically reduced to pieces of paper that required the navigators to use their compasses, rulers, calculators and pencils in ways more similar to Pythagoras than to athletes out to prove themselves in the desert. In the end, navigators who are usually on top of their game were missing checkpoints, drivers were pushed to their limits and mechanics on site said that they saw damage to trucks that broken in places where trucks never break.

The new road books are controversial, not because of their attempt to raise the bar of the competition, but because the organizers had apparently decided to change the game because they suspected cheating in previous years. Team #138, the disqualified team, had won the rally 3 times and placed 2nd once since 2005. Changing the books was fine but this year’s race saw a whole new level of how it will change again. All of the top placed team were not, in fact in stock trucks but in full on, Dakar-style racing trucks. That is like taking a stock category truck in Baja and telling the team to beat Robby Gordon in a trophy truck. The women raced hard and as much as they say this rally isn’t about speed, this year they went fast.

Team Miller Fisher, the only US team competing in the rally, was in a stock H3. When I say stock, I mean STOCK. Their truck came off of a Parisian Hummer dealer’s lot and had the basic stock for Baja 1000 adjustments made, which is to say, very little. They came in 12th at the end, raising their rank daily from the bottom of the pack. Driver Emily Miller and navigator Wendy Fisher drove a race that they are very proud of after the 1st leg of mishaps. Emily called from Morocco to say that this was the hardest race that she has ever done and min you, this is the 1st woman to win an Iron Man in the Vegas to Reno off road race. In her typical way, however, she quickly summarized the race, spoke briefly about the controversy around Team Toyota and jumped into her plans for next year’s race and wondered out loud how we could get more United States women to want to achieve a rally that will be like one never held before.

It is sad that all of these people came together after so many months of preparation (world class athletes, humanitarians, doctors, organizers, mechanics and passionistas), only to find at the end of their hard work, 2 women were selfish enough to make it all so disappointing. This rally has the Princess of Morocco behind the wheel, the daughter of the head of Senegal as a world class driver and yet, in the desert where everything should have been on level sand, the reality of what some people will do to win, dawned on them all.

When Emily returns to the US, we will be doing an outreach to women and trying to get some more people to try next year’s rally and hope that everyone can start with a clean slate.

I have started so many blogs about GM that my drafts folder in WordPress is a virtual diary of issues that screamed to me that I needed to say something to you but then I would worry about your health. It is personal to me. It’s like telling a close elder relative that they offend everyone at Thanksgiving dinner with their un-Big Fish-Like stories and are clueless to this and something should be done but then Thanksgiving passes and so I kind of hope/think that your spouse must be telling you why people pick on you.

But here are some observations.

Whether or not you actually pay eBay for the recent trial endeavor of listing your new inventory on eBay Motors that is now coming to an end, I know this:

• - eBay Motors doesn’t care if you pay them. The free marketing you did for the most cheap and marketing incompetent major company in the world realizes that it was your money who brought them all of those wonderful hits. They base stock price on hits. No sales for you but hits for them.
• - While we are on your money? It was nice of you to pull eBay Motors along with you while you paid back part of your loan … that wasn’t your money at the time nor was the contract with eBay even signed when the program was announced. I like team spirit among people. Sharing is nice.
• - You did a nice thing for your franchisees by putting their inventory on eBay Motors on their behalf so they didn’t have to pay a marketplace they had all abandoned long ago because it was useless to them and didn’t increase sales. I bet after they had so many peers lose their franchises it made them feel warm and part of the GM family to know you could offer them a snowcone treat on a freezing day.
• - Fritz Henderson had a genius idea with this eBay Motors thing and announced it as if it was All New! although it had already been 2 years in the works and, in the panic of securing government funds, grasped it as an example of how GM was changing and showing appreciation of being allowed to continue breathing.
• - Playing with eBay Motors and pretending like cars were really going to sell was optimistic. Audi only sold 2 cars in their entire history of listing their Certified Pre-Owned cars on eBay on behalf of their dealers but you decided that GM would be different. Despite public opinion and franchisees well known for their lack of follow through on internet leads, you were going to sell cars, dang it!
• - Everyone knew that this eBay program was about generating leads and you say that you got 15,000 leads on 16,000 cars in 225 California dealerships which is great but you claim you don’t have visibility on how many of those ended in successful sales. You could (dealerships and eBay are run by this thing called software) but then the cars that were listed as current inventory on eBay were very often no longer available. So maybe you got some buyers in other cars. Who knows? You could tell us but you don’t, you silly little tease!
• - Speaking of releasing actual numbers: it is cool that most of the cars you listed on eBay were higher than the prices of the actual cars on the actual lots (which is higher than people actually negotiate) because that helps the perception that we all crave in this economy (e.g., cars are worth more than they are if you see it on the internet).

We don’t have to talk about the money back guarantees and how that worked out for other companies before or how playing conkers with the media is proven to be a bad idea. I do want you to start talking though. This Penske deal is a huge heartbreak for a lot of people. I am keeping my fingers crossed for Hummer. This isn’t pretend anymore. People have used you and you show a kind face of being optimistic and take the knocks of being the one at fault. Managing bad news is not a fun job and a lot of very tired but loving employees working on your behalf. Bad news is not a PR opportunity. It is a sign that everyone is tired. It is time to start making some good news.

This week I was given a copy of the DVD of Season 10 of Top Gear by the US company assisting the BBC America division with promoting the show.

I love Top Gear. I love Jeremy Clarkson although he would probably shred me to bits and spit me out like a bit of pip left in his martini olive. I love cars. I love talking to people about cars. I tend to be enthusiastic when not grumpy. Hence, free DVD.

But with all of the recent debate about sponsored posts in social media:

• If you do not know what Top Gear is and you do not like cars, it is not for you so don’t go getting all upset that there is a giveaway you do not care about.
• The Top Gear show is produced by the BBC and their opinions are expressly their own so if you do not agree with it then tough. I can only attest to the fact that you might laugh a bit at some parts of the DVD.
• In the past year I have received some freebies from companies and I will, for the sake of being transparent, reveal them now:

1. 1 backpack from Sirius Radio received at an OEM event which I gave to my neighbor who couldn’t afford a new backpack for the school year.
2. 1 messenger bag, again Sirius Radio, but with Ford SYNC which I donated because it had a feature that rejected contents forcing it to dump out unless empty.
3. 1 eBay Motors baseball cap at the Concorso Italiano (a consumer event- everyone got them- I am not special).
4. A Ford Flex magnetic name badge with Miss Motor Mouth printed on it. (I do have a real name but it is cute).
5. A hacky sack, Frisbee and a blue oval patch at a Ford Fiesta consumer meet up at a tuner shop.
6. 1 Top Gear Season 10 DVD which I received because I love Top Gear and talk about it a lot and just generally get enthusiastic about the show that I could watch 24/7.

This was not a paid advertisement but I will watch Season 10 for free so sue me. If every one is nice I will host a nice contest soo so you can see it too.

Carsala, an online application revolutionizing the car buying
experience, announced today the appointment of Michelle Naranjo, also
known as Miss Motor Mouth, to lead Carsala digital communications.
Naranjo will assist with ongoing public relations, market strategy and
contribute to growing the venture funded company’s business
development.

Carsala CEO, Tyler Elliston said of the appointment, “Michelle is a
wonderful addition to our team.  Her industry savvy, expertise with
online media, and distinct voice will be invaluable as we pursue new
ways of communicating how we are revolutionizing the used car buying
process.”

Naranjo brings to Carsala editorial, business development and public
relations experience from the online automotive industry and running
her site, missmotormouth.com, combining experience with enthusiasm for
the automotive world. She is a Yahoo Knowledge Partner in the Cars
category specializing in used and online car transactions.

“Carsala is a timely product that fills a need in the car buying
process,” said Naranjo, “Buyers are often intimidated by the
negotiations and dealers, and more than ever, need to connect with serious
buyers. I love the technology behind this idea which results in the
successful connection of people doing business.”

Based in Berkeley, California, Carsala offers used car buyers peace of mind,
price validation, outsourced research, and professional negotiation in 48
hours or less. Carsala’s primary product is a used car buying service thatsaves auto buyers money, time, and hassle. Whether the buyer is stillchoosing a make and model, knows the model and is looking for the car, or has found a specific car to buy, Carsala offers the best source of unbiased, valuable help.