"Then we'll go again"

There weren't 258 cars that started, but a total of 252. 6 participants withdrew at the last minute. Of the 252 participants, 79 were excluded or disqualified. And the 80th participant is poor Carlos Menditegui. Because of a time difference! After Carlos Menditegui's withdrawal (also from the Mercedes team), the two Volvo drivers Gunnar Andersson and Atiiio Viale del Carril are my most dangerous competitors.

I'm 16 minutes 7 seconds ahead of Gunnar and 17 minutes 50 seconds ahead of del Carril. That's quite a lot if I don't get a puncture, but it's not enough if we have to stop to fix the tires.

When we arrive at the "parc ferme" at 6.45 to pick up our 220 SE, we are in good shape again, even though we haven't slept enough. The start is in the northern part of the city of San Juan. At exactly 7.00 the starting flag falls for us. On this third stage we have another mountain stretch ahead of us. We have to cross the top of the "Cuesta de Miranda" at 1,980 m. altitude.

I notice that at first, against my will, I am holding the steering wheel convulsively tight. Ursula also notices that my technique is not the usual one. She tries to behave exactly as she usually does.

I keep looking in the rearview mirror but I can't spot any of the cars behind us. At Los Palacios we cross the Bermejo and Vinchina rivers, which are wide "bathtubs" that fortunately don't carry large masses of water. In any case, I can't help but listen anxiously to the sound of the engine after each river crossing. I can't stop thinking about Eugen Böhringer's bad luck during the first stage. But our 220 SE is behaving nicely and doesn't bother swallowing any water.

The landscape has become wildly romantic

- Average speed 125 km/h, says Ursula. That's good because it's going uphill all the time.
- I hope that's enough. I'm not so sure. It could be better.
But we've been driving well. At that moment I'm 4 minutes 10 seconds ahead of Gunnar and 8 minutes 24 seconds ahead of del Carril, who has taken it slower. We pass the time control at 9.24.30. The sun is now high in the sky and the heat is starting to become merciless. The gravel and sand pavement had been damp with dew at the beginning, but now it's completely dry. We leave behind us a triumphant dust plume. The landscape has become wildly romantic. I'm sorry I can't enjoy what I did during the training ride.
- Would it taste good with a piece of chewing gum? Ursula asks happily. She's noticed that I'm sitting quietly and thinking.
- That's a good idea, I answer.
- The vegetation is sparse. It's just cacti that have grown into magnificent specimens, sometimes meters high. Onlookers stand to the right and left of the road, waving friendly or overly enthusiastically. Many put their cameras to their eyes when they see us appear. They are probably often professional photographers because the newspapers need illustrations for their reports that fill entire pages. Ursula turns around and looks for a man with a camera that we had just passed.
- Poor thing! she says. He must now have to polish his lens. He disappeared in a cloud of dust.
- We can count ourselves lucky that we are first, I say.

Now you can take it easy

Finally we have reached the highest point. It would be wonderful to stop here for a moment and enjoy the wonderful view. But that is impossible in a competition. Onward - onward! We had forgotten that the descent from the "Cuesta de Miranda" was so steep. Here, only one thing helps if you want to reduce the risks: driving extremely carefully. The small wagons are superior when it comes to steep sections like this. I have to brake much earlier in a sharp curve than, for example, a wagon in class F or E, not to mention those belonging to classes D, C, B and A. After just under 17 km we have arrived at Nonogasta, which is located at an altitude of 934 metres. I am delighted when we and the car have this dangerous stretch behind us unharmed.
- It's great that we have made it this far. Ursula exhales.
Ahead of us is a section that is in extremely poor condition: gravel consisting of many stones of different sizes. The wagon skids and jumps. If only the tyres would hold up!
- In about two minutes we will be at the tanker, Ursula says suddenly.
We do indeed see the sign with the Mercedes star and below it the numbers "200 m". This time I get the wagon to stop in time. We are greeted with great cheers.

A "comfort stretch" with a comparatively smooth road surface is passed. In the background is a tanker belonging to an Argentinian racing team.

- You've driven fantastically! Now you can relax.
Our mechanics have heard the reports on a transistor radio and understood most of it, even though they don't really speak any Spanish. With the speed of the wind, they open the fuel cap, stick in the funnel, fill up with petrol, check the oil, clean the window, check the coolant, and take a look at the engine.
- Has everything been fine?
- As far as I can tell, nothing has clicked, I answer. The engine runs fine, but please look carefully at the tyres. The road was terrible.
After a few minutes we hear:
- Off we go! And watch your neck and legs!
Without wasting any time, I step on the gas. Of course, we've lost a few minutes refueling. The only consolation is that everyone else will have to refuel sooner or later. Despite the break and the fact that the road is straight, we can't see anyone in the rearview mirror. After 475 km, when we leave Los Colorados, the road finally gets better: asphalt.
- Great! I say.
Here I can increase the speed again and sometimes drive 180 km/h. On the hills I often have to go down to 60 km/h and there we naturally lose a lot of time.

Here comes Gunnar!

In the distance we see a pompous, whitewashed gate. The round arch we pass through is at least 10 meters high and the ceiling is ornate.
- La Rioja? I ask Ursula.
She looks up from her papers, looks ahead and says:
- Yes.
At the gate is the time control and finish line for a free zone that starts here and allows us to pass through the city in 15 minutes. Thousands of people line the streets as before in cities and towns. They welcome us enthusiastically. The police have made sure that the road is clear. When our logbook is ready, we can drive on immediately.
It goes by quickly because the roadblock is very good. We have completed the entire passage including the control in four minutes. So we have time to get out and stretch our legs for a moment. Then a radio reporter rushes forward with a microphone and asks us to say a few words. He wants to know if we think we will win this stage too.

In Argentina, it is common to have beautiful gates at city and provincial borders. Here, the gate to La Rioja.

At the gate is the time control and finish line for a free zone that starts here and allows us to pass through the city in 15 minutes. Thousands of people line the streets as they used to in towns and villages. They welcome us enthusiastically. The police have made sure that the road is clear. When our logbook is ready, we can drive on immediately.
It goes by quickly because the roadblock is very good. We have completed the entire passage including the control in four minutes. So we have time to get out and stretch our legs for a moment. Then a radio reporter rushes forward with a microphone and asks us to say a few words. He wants to know if we think we will win this stage too.

- Why not? I say. Unless something comes between us, a puncture or something else that causes us to involuntarily stop.

The reporter says a few quick words in Spanish into the microphone and translates what I have said. Now it is my turn to ask.

- You know exactly what the situation is right now. Can you tell us how far ahead we are?
The reporter takes the opportunity to compliment us. At least I understand that Gunnar Andersson is still second. According to the reporter, he is now almost 13 minutes behind us.
- There you go! says Ursula. I knew we were in a good position.
- All the better, I say, relieved.
We fasten the chin straps on our crash helmets and fasten our seat belts. The interview has delayed us a bit. Just as I accelerate, I see a Volvo appear in the rearview mirror at high speed.
- Here comes Gunnar, I say to Ursula. She looks around and waves like she did before. Then we go.

It roars like a cannon shot

On the sandy parts of the track, the 711 rushes forward with a kilometer-long veil of dust behind it. Ewy Rosqvist is well ahead of the rest of the competition field.

On the road out of town, our tires get a typical taste of what Argentine roads have to offer: coarse gravel.
- It's only gravel for 2.7 km, Ursula consoles. Then it becomes a narrow asphalt road. But the roadsides are gravelly and difficult. Here you are warned about them. I realize that the warning is justified when I have to swerve to avoid a heavy boulder in the middle of the road. I have to use all my strength to keep the car up. This section of road is also interrupted by numerous pools of water. Pebbles are not the right word. In places where we have to drive through the water, there are stones that are irregularly shaped. They are as big as heavy skittles. You want to avoid them if possible. But it's not that easy. I try to avoid a fist-sized rock that comes under the front wheel. It roars like a cannon shot as it is thrown up against the undercarriage of our 220 SE.
- Goal, Ursula remarks dryly.
- We're lucky. I have to laugh. The rocks have the upper hand.
I drive diagonally up the beach on the opposite side to avoid getting stuck on the upper edge that has apparently only been designed for high-legged trucks. But it's not as dangerous as it looked from below. The 711 is soon back on the road unharmed. But that was just the beginning! Kilometer after kilometer it continues; down a beach slope, through gravel, cobblestones, water, mud, up a beach slope again.

Our fitness is first-class

Surrounded by thousands of people, we cross the finish line at the Catamarca city limit at 13:01.27. I stop at the depot's material wagon. Karl Kling is waiting. He has already rolled up his sleeves.
- Congratulations, Ewy! he shouts. You can't believe it's true, girl. The third stage victory!
- This time we're not surprised, I say. No one has overtaken us. How far behind is Gunnar?
It's oppressively hot. You can hardly breathe. There's no wind at all.
- Andersson must have had a flat tire, says Kling.

Ewy gets out tired, while Karl Kling rushes to check the engine. Ursula has gone to get the papers stamped.

A radio reporter is waiting in his car and he asks us to come up to the microphone.
- Allow me to finally congratulate you on your new record! the reporter says politely.
- Record?
- You have a better time than last year's winner with Mercedes, Walter Schock.

Ursula and I look at each other. We can thank our race trip, which you can't do without. Already at the finish of the first stage, people had said: "Pure luck! The girls won't last anyway!" They had congratulated us somewhat condescendingly and amusedly. But today, after the third stage, it's different. Our male colleagues sound really impressed when they congratulate us. Someone gives us an aperitif so that we can toast. We politely sip the sherry, but we would have preferred refreshing orange juice. Finally, we manage to squeeze into the dining room for a late dinner. Just as we sit down, Karl Kling and Fangio come through the door.
- We're hungry too, says Kling. How are you?
- We're hungry as wolves, says Ursula, but you can tell she's tired.
- That doesn't sound very convincing, says Fangio. He takes the menu and suggests a few dishes.
- But no big steaks! I say.
Karl Kling frowns.
- Now you have three stages behind you. If you are going to make it through the rest, you have to keep up your fitness.
- Our fitness is first-class, Ursula insists so enthusiastically that both gentlemen have to laugh.
- Don't be so sure about it! says Kling. The worst is coming the day after tomorrow.
- The mountain stage? I ask. It can't be worse than in Yugoslavia.
- Wait a minute! says Fangio. Do you know what the fourth stage is called?
- No idea.
- "The cemetery of hopes."

Sometimes I'm really anxious

At the hairdresser's we get our treatment straight away. That was good because the TV interview is scheduled for 7.30pm and we need to rest before then. When we get back to the hotel, there's a crowd at the entrance. Some of the kitchen staff have spotted us. A lush cook sees us from the window. A few seconds later she's standing next to us. She wipes her hands on her apron and showers us with a flurry of words. Finally she kisses us on both cheeks as is the custom in that country.

- Sometimes I'm really anxious, I say. We've only got half of it behind us. What happens if we're unlucky and have to drop out?
- Just don't talk about it! says Ursula. I don't think we'll win either.
- Win! I say. Who said that? I'm really happy that we've done so well so far.

The main thing is that we manage to finish and get a decent place. Our responsibility to Daimler-Benz is so great that I'm getting sick with the worry that something will go wrong.
- It doesn't have to be, says Ursula. Tomorrow morning I'll sit down and study the notes so that I don't forget anything. If only you're in any shape, we'll probably be fine over the mountain too.
- But there must be a reason why that stage has been given its abominable name "The Cemetery of Hopes".

Number 711 during the descent from Pampa d Achela on a medium-quality road. Already in the first part of the second stage, Ewy Rosqvist has placed himself in the lead of all participants.