Day 26 - March 8, 1908 Cheyenne, WY - Cowboys & Gumbo!
It was time to go, leaving behind the comforts of Chicago on February 28. The snow had diminished, but we faced something worse, MUD and lots of it! Early mornings found the “road” a mass of frozen ruts, but as the sun rose the ruts turned to axle deep thick, black quagmire we jokingly referred to as “gumbo”. We rolled westward along what would later become Highway 30, and crossed the Mississippi River at Clinton, Iowa. We reached a place called Clarence, Iowa to stop for the night of February 29 (leap year). We had accumulated hundreds of pounds of mud during the day, and needed to remove it before it froze in place that night. The solution might have been considered what you would call a “car wash” today. The local fire department offered their pumper fire engine, and we used their 3 inch stream to wash away the “gumbo”. This was so effective that we visited several fire stations at later stops.
T. Walter Williams, our New York Times reporter riding with us was having his own problems. He had difficulty writing his daily dispatches bouncing along in the car, and Monty often liked to drive late into the evening if the going was good. Now that we were in the Central time zone, that made the day’s story an additional hour later getting back to New York for the next morning’s Times front page. He was older than most of us, and at times thought we must be insane to carry on. He said good-bye at Cedar Rapids on March 1. I was ordered to take on his duties becoming our “reporter” filing a daily telegram of our progress. With all my other obligations, my dispatches were decidedly brief: “March 2nd. It rained all day, the mud is nearly hub deep. We slid from one side of the road to the other. We covered more miles sideways than ahead. We got as far as Ogden (Iowa). Good night.”
In spite of the rain and mud, many people lined the roads to watch as we passed by. Years later, P.D. Sargent wrote me saying that as a boy of 18 he lived on a farm in Ames, Iowa. His father had a two cylinder Reo, but refused to allow it to be driven in mud and snow. “So I drove a team of horses to Ames” he wrote. “We heard through the newspapers and telephone about what time you would arrive in Ames. So as not to miss seeing you, we went several hours early. I think we waited about six hours. I had been interested in motor cars for several years and had decided that the Thomas Flyer was my ideal car. When your party came into Ames, I thought you were the luckiest people in the world to be chosen for the run from New York to Paris. I was with you in spirit all the way, and would have given anything to have gone with you at that time.”
We rolled into Omaha, Nebraska on March 4, receiving a tremendous welcome of church bells and whistles. A local company presented us with sheep skin lined, knee length fur coats. With them on we looked like Eskimos, but accepted them graciously as they would help protect us from the weather we would face in Alaska.
It was in Omaha we found Captain Hansen waiting for us. He had successfully convinced Mr. Thomas that he would be an asset to our Team after his leaving the French De Dion Team in Chicago. As we had an empty seat with William’s departure, there was no problem in bringing him along. Hansen would be a good chap to have with us as he had knowledge of the Artic, could speak Russian, and was strong. We learned from him that the Zust had gone ahead of the De Dion at Cedar Rapids, but was still more than 100 miles behind us. The Motobloc had left Chicago, but the Protos was still there being repaired. We learned about Koeppen’s crew problems with Maas and Knape abandoning the Protos just before Chicago. Koeppen had some good fortune in finding a German American chauffer living in Chicago who was laid off from his job, and was both willing and able to join his effort. Snyder had been chauffer to Madame Gadski, the opera singer.
Koeppen later wrote: “Everything I saw or heard of Snyder gave me confidence of his mechanicability and personal sportsmanship. My only doubt was whether he had the strength to withstand the rigor and hardship of the tour, now that two men would carry on where three men had found it difficult?”
Scarfoglio of the Italian Zust Team continued to have his share of trouble. He writes “Haaga is so tired that he falls asleep changing a tire. We rouse him lest he freeze to death.” The Italians find an old newspaper with a story of the coming Race, it says “The Automobiles Will Traverse America in 15 Days”; Scarfoglio later notes “and to think that we also believed this folly before the start!” The Zust leaves Chicago on March 1. The French Motobloc departed Chicago on March 7, with Goddard having had thieves steal cameras, tools and clothing from his car earlier in Wawaka, Indiana. The Protos finally managed to leave Chicago on the 7th as well.
By March 7th we were already in North Platte, Iowa and arrived for lunch at the home of a famous American, Colonel “Buffalo Bill” Cody. We posed for pictures with his family, and then it was time again to go.
We would often parallel the Union Pacific rails, and when a locomotive would pass there would be tremendous whistling, and the windows of the coaches would be framed with enthusiastic travelers who were waving handkerchiefs. The railroad telegraphers flashed ahead word of our coming and many towns dismissed schools to allow children to see their first automobile drive by. One newspaper described us as “fierce-looking wild eyed men who drive without sleep and without food.” We were an unkempt lot! Only Captain Hansen had a shaving kit, and bothered to use it.
By noon on March 8th we reached Cheyenne where cowboys and cowgirls were doing their stuff, riding ahead on their horses, firing guns into the air. A band escorted us through the unpaved streets, and at the Capitol we were tendered a reception. I may have neglected making any mention of the numerous banquets to which we were bidden, and which Monty and Williams had generally attended. My first duty was the care of the Flyer, and I could not share in these festivities. By the time I finished work, the affairs were usually long over.
I noticed the countershaft housing which we had replaced in Chicago was again cracking. One side had a hole large enough to put your finger into! Since the crowds would always gather to inspect our car when we stopped, my main desire was to get the Flyer away from them as we did not want to expose this weakness. Lynn Mathewson, our Denver Thomas dealer (whose knowledge of the next section made him the logical choice to drive on to Ogden), told me about Elmer Lovejoy’s garage in Laramie. We could reach Elmer’s on the following day, where this work could be done with less notice.
Monty Roberts left us at Cheyenne, and I sincerely regretted his leaving. Together we had brought the car this far, and I never had a complaint - he was a good comrade. Mr. Morse, our factory representative, came in from Buffalo. He told me that I would now take charge of the Flyer and would become full time driver at San Francisco, with Miller as my mechanic. He then handed me a package containing $500. Morse noticed that I was carrying a .32 caliber pistol, and ordered me go to the hardware shop and buy “a real gun and carry it in a holster”. He advised protection in the shape of as large a Colt as I thought myself able to handle. I soon became the new owner of a .38 Colt with a six inch barrel. With the Colt by my side, I felt more at ease with the uncertain and perilous trek ahead.
*About the author: The above is written in the first person as Jeff Mahl heard the recollections from his Great Grandfather, George N. Schuster, winner of the 1908 New York to Paris Race. Jeff is seated to the left of “Great Gramp” holding the 45 star US flag which flew from the Flyer, with his brother Matt and sister Jenny. For additional information visit: TheGreatAutoRace.com
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