Bullrun Day Two Recap

After we left Yellowstone, I rode with Mr. Angry and his copilot, Pete, to Jackson, Wyoming for some lunch. Honestly? That leg is kind of a blur, though I do remember a cop following one of the rally cars right up to the checkpoint. We arrived about 20 minutes before everyone was slated to leave for the next leg, so we pretty much wolfed down our food and hopped back into the little Ford. I have to admit, I was kind of distraught when the Bullrun officials handed us our next route card. We were headed for Aspen—another 585 miles on top of the almost 200 we’d already done. Pete ditched us for the comfort of the Team Angry CLS55 AMG, and Mike’s buddy Gabe hopped into the front seat. As I watched all the exotics roar away, I was sure we were going to be the last ones to Colorado, and I wondered if there would be anything left to eat—and whether it would be too late to buy beer—when we arrived. But that isn’t the way it worked out. We basically took two rural highways down to Aspen, and the Fusion was running at top speed—111 MPH—for nearly the entire time. We stopped for gas once, at a little roadside store, which had a hilarious sign in the bathroom, and with very few exceptions, the scenery looked like this. We covered almost 600 miles in seven and a half hours, and  when we found out we got sixth place, Mike’s love for the Fusion boiled over. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he bought one. Hell, I might get one myself…    

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