Update Desk

“The wildest thing that happened was on the leg from Darjeeling to Calcutta,” reported Ulen. “We thought we could make it in two days, but it was slower than we had calculated, and we ended up driving at night. At night it seems like there are many more trucks that come out determined to run you off the road. They flash their lights at you: It seems to be a sign for ‘we have no intention of getting out of your way.’ There are also a lot of bikes out at night for some reason. And in the middle of the road there are potholes deep enough to roll the rickshaw.” If you roll your rickshaw, added Ulen, “you turn it into a convertible.” He is proud that his was one of the few pimped-out vehicles to make it to the finish line relatively intact.

Ulen and Bodycombe navigated the frightening Indian night with the help of two backpacking young women from Seattle. “We had one of them on the left yelling for bikes. I was on the right, on truck detail. And we kept the lights in front looking for potholes. We managed to make it anyway.”

And how does one solicit the company of a pair of lovelies while traversing the home of Bollywood in a craft best suited to shuttling tourists from hotel to museum? “It wasn’t hard to persuade the girls. We just said, ‘How would you like to join our team in a rickshaw race?’ I think that the fact that they needed a lift helped.”

The race began in Pondacherry on Jan. 1 with 57 teams from all around the world. “We all met in Pondacherry and spent a few days. Then they {trip organizers from a British group called the Adventurists that combines zany travel adventures with fund-raising} just said that Shillong is the finish line—get there on the 15th. And off we went.” 

It wasn’t as easy as it might sound. The race has no fixed course. Forty-eight of the 57 teams did make it to the finish line in the northeastern region within the 15 days specified. Those who arrived late were not penalized except for missing out on a portion of the party that commenced as soon as each group showed up.

The mainstay of the party was a local beer named Kingfisher. “It’s somewhat horrible,” said Ulen. Most of the beers he sampled had the same problem: heat. “It doesn’t make a difference what beer you drink, because they haven’t mastered the art of brown bottles and putting covers on the trucks, so they put so much preservative in it that it tastes really funky. It’s gross, but it doesn’t stop you from drinking it.”

Now back in the real world of work and winter, Ulen is in the process of figuring out how much he raised. The goal was at least 1,000 British pounds. So far he has brought in $2,600 for FRANK Water and Mercy Works, his charities of choice, which as of press time equaled 1,800 pounds.

Ulen is particularly proud to declare himself the owner of the finish line itself. “I own that finish line barrier. I found it lying around the day after the race ended, so I decided that it was mine.” He is also tickled at the aesthetic accolades his rickshaw achieved. “We definitely had the best-looking rickshaw,” bragged Ulen, 24, whose job title is radar systems engineer. “When it was over, I wanted to buy the rickshaw. I was attached to the old girl.” 

But don’t expect to see him tooling around Tipp Hill in it any time soon. It turned out that to ship the rickshaw home would have cost $3,600, and there was no guarantee that the old girl could pass inspection and be called street legal.

And how does it feel to be back? “For the first five or six days it was kind of weird,” he said. “You have had every routine in your life thrown off. There’s an 11½-hour time difference. You get used to eating with your hands.”

Brendon said that his parents, whose initial reaction was skepticism and shock, are pleased with him now that he’s made it back safely. “They’ve got that whole hindsight thing going on. Since they know I survived it they think it was a great way to see the world.”

So what’s next? “A race in a really crappy car from London to Mongolia.” Stay tuned.

—Ed Griffin-Nolan