Panic grips adventurer on last leg of record-setting drive

Thirty years ago -- to the day, as I write this -- I was not driving, but walking the streets of London in a state of terror, convinced a nervous meltdown was in progress.

If I didn't pull myself together, three years with my partner Ken Langley would be in vain.

Legions of people in 21 countries who had helped us in our bid to set the global driving record would be let down. With the hard part now over, would I fall apart? Would Ken and I have to return home, losers with massive bills to pay? There would be plenty of crow to eat over our pie-in-the-sky dream of establishing a new record for driving around the planet.

Our goal was to complete the 25,000-mile drive in 77 days or fewer. Take a month off the then-existing 103-day record and beat Phileas Fogg's 80-day fictitious junket to boot.

Ken and I were on an all-night drive in 1977 when the idea surfaced. Talk turned to road trips and by the time the sun rose, we determined the ultimate road trip would be to drive around the world.

I resigned as a captain in the military and Ken quit his political job. In the meantime, Norris McWhirter, co-founder of the Guinness Book of Records, set the rules.

"Start and finish must be at the same place, drive an equator length, cross the equator." So far, so good.

"The clock never stops." Not so good. That meant air-freighting. Big money, no miles, wasted time.

"Drive team of two people of which only one can drive." Bad!

I got the job and we built the schedule around a 24-hour day. Drive 15 hours then sleep in a decent hotel. But 60 days into the record, the one-driver rule resulted in the desperate state in which I found myself, frantically wandering the streets of jolly old London.

Ken and I had set up a company to administer the endeavor and sold shares to friends and relatives who got caught up in the excitement. With a snappy audio-video presentation and a "no-fear" attitude, we set out to raise the $250,000 needed to propel us into the record books. Weeks turned into months and finally, after three years of determination, we drove a Volvo 245 station wagon to the start point, the base of Toronto's 2,000-foot-tall CN Tower.

There was much fanfare and tears from relatives, friends and a sea of well-wishers on hand when we crashed through the "Shell Helps" banner and were on our way.

"Now we have to do it, Ken!" I nervously laughed, as we motored west.

And motor we did. Across North America to Los Angeles, where the blue and white Volvo nicknamed "Red Cloud" was air-freighted to Sydney.

The Outback was a vast, scorching, dusty place where we broadsided a kangaroo, dodged the road trains and escaped a brothel in Kalgorie unscathed. Down Under was pretty much a slam-bam joy ride.

The 1980 Iran-Iraq war broke out the day we air-freighted Red Cloud into then-Bombay, India, and while we made our way through the subcontinent, arrangements for an airlift over the war were made. Lost time but no problem, we drive to the Norwegian Arctic to make up the distance.

Dysentery hounded Ken in India and we were into Western Europe by the time it cleared up. I was fine until a throbbing throttle leg kept me awake in Southern France. Sleep evaded me for the next 100 hours.

I survived the United Kingdom meltdown, though, and even beat the 77-day goal. When we sailed Red Cloud through another "Shell Helps" barrier at the base of the CN Tower on
Nov. 19, 1980, the clock in our heads finally stopped. Our time of 74 days, one hour and 11 minutes clipped the old record by a month.

Ken Langley and I did what we had set out to do. A couple of guys with no background in public relations, marketing or events had pulled it together. With a flawless performance by Red Cloud (the Volvo), the help of countless people and the grace of Lady Luck, we had managed to pull it off.

I still own the blue and white Volvo named Red Cloud with 283,000 miles on its odometer. The car hasn't been driven for 10 years (except once in 2005) but I've revived it to help celebrate the 30th anniversary of setting the global record with Ken and a crew of cronies.

So, Ken met me in Toronto on Nov. 18, and, at 2:11 p.m., and we began the journey around the world yet again -- sort of -- without leaving the city.

Our task is to drive Red Cloud around Toronto to unearth items that represent each of the 21 countries we traveled through 30 years ago. The road trip took just 24 hours, but it's a run Ken and I have wanted to do for years.

Red Cloud and the Dynamic Duo ride again. In the next installment, we dust off Red Cloud and hit the road.

Garry Sowerby, author of "Sowerby's Road: Adventures of a Driven Mind," is a four-time Guinness World Record holder for long-distance driving. His exploits, good, bad and just plain harrowing, are the subject of World Odyssey, produced in conjunction with Wheelbase Media. You can send Garry a note online at www.wheelbase.ws/media using the contact link. Wheelbase Media is a worldwide provider of automotive news and features stories.