The nonexistent prize for sympathy has been assigned to the team "Desperate co-drivers", those six ladies who half an hour before departure always found the same excuse ( "I have to get the start time stamp!") to disappear at the sight of their husbands. But they didn't matter time control that much. They only wanted to stay few minutes together to laugh, tell reprehensible things done at the expense of the spouses-pilots and laugh again. Six wives united by a league that saw their cars close enough at the start. Usually, the last one had to be left alone, but more than once someone stopped to keep her company and to Marshall that invited them to hurry up and get back in the car, she replied: "Don't worry, a minute more will not change our challenge". Of course, the husband-pilot for that minute was willing to do anything, especially if, at the end of the day, he needed just that minute.
The research of the typical hat of the young Mongol girls has committed much of our rest-day in Ulaan Baatar. Then the hat with pearls and ribbons was engulfed in the dungeons of the baggage car. It reappeared suddenly on arrival and Rita put it on her head when we crossed the finish line under the triumphal arch. And she gave it to the other "desperate co-drivers" for a photo in memory of belonging to that club, nonexistent but unforgettable.
