How far can you go with a 3-cylinder, 989 cc Daihatsu hatchback? We decided to find out at the 2013 Mongol Rally, put on by the Adventurists.

Our initial map was significantly different from the route we took

Although it’s called a rally, it isn’t at all a race. Instead, teams are encouraged to find the most creative route possible in getting from London, England to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Any way you cut it, you’ll be driving approximately 1/3 of the way around the world. With that said there is a huge difference between the shortest route (approximately 5,500 miles) and the longest routes, which can be as high as 10,000 miles or more. In the end, our route to Ulaanbaatar would be around 8,000 miles. While most teams would leave their car in Ulaanbaatar, we decided instead to drive it back to London and sell it (making our total journey over 17,000 miles).

Getting ready for the Mongol Rally was a huge undertaking. I’m used to seeing the logistics that go into preparing for off-road desert races like the Baja 1000, but this was a different beast entirely. Some of the things that we were most challenged with were:

• Passports
• Auto Insurance
• Accruing Donations/Sponsorships
• Finding the exact car that we wanted

Mongol Rally Team and Vehicle Selection

Our team consisted of 3: Myself, my long time friend Gabriel and my girlfriend at the time Louise. We would pack into our tiny 1999 Daihatsu Cuore that produced a mere 56 horsepower and weighed in at some 1600 pounds. After doing much research on cars that fit into the limitations for the rally (less than 1.2 liters), I decided first on the Perodua Kelisa, as it was officially the cheapest car available on the UK market, and the idea of pounding one through the deserts of Mongolia sounded fantastic. When I finally flew to London in search of one, I was unable to find anything that quite fit our needs. So as time began winding down I made the decision to purchase a Daihatsu Cuore, which is in every way a Kelisa except for the badges and lights. As per the rules our car would usually need to be newer than 2003, however since we were not going to be leaving the car in Ulaanbaatar, an exception was made for us.

We purchased the car for 500 GBP (around $750) about 3 weeks before the rally began, and had very little time to do any work on it. Keep in mind that most teams begin working on undertaking the rally months and often years in advance. The rally started in July, and we decided to enter it in March.

Because much of the rally takes place in desert terrain, most teams add skid plates beneath their cars, some carry as many as 6 spares or more, ridiculous numbers of jerry cans, roof racks and in some instances even roll cages and raised struts. I didn’t want to taint the challenge with such luxuries so we forewent the skid plates, had only one spare in the stock location, used a cheap roof bag rather than a rack and carried two 10-liter jerry cans, one for water and one for fuel. Our prep consisted of changing the spark plugs, the brake pads, the oil and transmission fluid and new Yokohama street tires (4 new with a recycled spare).

I chose to carry only the most basic of spares. We had extra oil and brake fluid, JB weld, silicone and an old electric tire pump that I found hidden in a compartment of the motorhome I bought a few months earlier. I purchased new windshield wipers but of course forgot to install them. We were quite possibly one of the most under-prepared teams on the rally. I made this clear to my teammates, and reassured them with “if something breaks and we have the parts, I can fix it”.

Mongol Rally Passports

To all prospective teams, I advice you get your passports started early for all your team members. Two of us did, but unfortunately one of us did not. It turned out that Louise, being a UK citizen, could only get a double-entry visa for Russia while Gabe and I both were able to get a multi-entry, 3 year visas. This was an important logistical issue, because we needed to enter Russia a total of 3 times on our rally: the first when crossing from Ukraine to Russia and into Kazakhstan, then Kazakhstan to Russia and into Mongolia, and one more for Mongolia into Russia in order to get back to Europe. Because Louise was unable to get more than two entries, we needed to change our route completely. This was unfortunate for Gabe and I, because being the proactive teammates that we were, had already received our Kazakhstan visas at a cost of $175 each. Had Louise found out this fact earlier, Gabe and I could have saved ourselves nearly $200.

Additionally, the Russian passports can be quite painful. In the end, I went to the Russian passport office in London in order to get the passports for Gabe and I. This also turned into a nightmare. Basically, our passports were to be ready on a Friday, and that Monday Gabe had his flight from Los Angeles to London. That meant that I needed to overnight his passport to Gabe before his flight. But I wasn’t able to pick the passports up until around 3:30 pm that Friday, and when I went in to do so, it turned out that the office had left one of our passports at the consulate by mistake. Of course it wasn’t mine, but rather Gabe’s that was left, so I was forced to sprint to the nearest London underground station, figure out the correct trains to take while en-route and then sprint from the station to the Consulate, which was meant to be closed but thankfully stayed open for me. After getting the passports I then ran to the nearest Fed-Ex mailing office in order to get it overnighted, barely making it in time for the truck picking up the last packages of the week. I made it, but it was a huge hassle.

Mongol Rally Insurance

Finally came insurance. This was the biggest nightmare of them all. After receiving annual quotes for as much as $4000 I managed to find a company willing to insure us for around $1500 annually. This was a horrific rate relative to what is available in the US, but when that’s the best there is available, you’ve got to take it, right? Unfortunately one key part of insurance in the UK is known as the “No Claims Discount”. If you’re the named driver on a policy then the NCD is equivalent to the number of years you have been the named driver and had no claims against you (i.e. traffic tickets or accidents).

So Louise told me this was three years, but as it turns out, it doesn’t count unless you’re the policy holder. So after paying for the policy in full I was forced to call up the agency and tell them that we made a mistake and that we had no NCD for our policy holder. To make a long story short our underwriter didn’t accept those without NCD, and so our policy must be cancelled with a number of sizable penalties dealt. The fiasco of fighting to receive a refund for our insurance and get ourselves re-insured lasted nearly the entirety of the trip and cost hundreds of dollars. In the end, much of our rally and all of our return journey (except in Russia) was completed uninsured.