Part II
The welcome the teams received from Russian Government officials made the half-hearted welcome most of the teams received in America look downright passionate. They met with the drivers in their full gold, lace-covered government regalia and offered some no nonsense advice. “Give up.” Put the cars on the Trans-Siberian railway and resume their little “race” when they got to Europe.
Their reasons you ask?
Well, to quote the Russian officials, “[You] will be met on the road by Chinese brigands, Manchurian tigers, fever, plague, pestilence, and famine—to say nothing of the mud after three months of rain, mosquitoes as big as locusts, and other similar delights.”
And that seems like as good a place as any to begin the second half of our story.
As if the “old testament-esque” warning provided by the Russians wasn’t off-putting enough, the drivers were immediately met with another issue, an almost complete lack of gas.
Before the teams even resumed the race, St. Chaffray, the driver of the French De Dion team, summoned the American and Italian teams to his hotel room. He proceeded to make a mind-boggling pitch. Since there was no gas, he was willing to give the entirety of his team’s supply to whichever team agreed to take him on as a passenger to Paris. He was withdrawing from the race, but still looking to participate. Either that or just looking for a ride home.
He further compounded his bizarre pitch by adding that it had to be either the American team or the Italian team that would take him because, and I quote, “it would not look well for a Frenchman to ride on a German machine.” (Because you know, the Franco Prussian war seemed like just yesterday) The Italians stormed out of the room in disgust and Schuster, while more outwardly polite, told his team he’d rather stay in Vladivostok for the rest of his life, rather than accept St. Chaffray’s bribe.
While the details aren’t exactly clear, the Italian team somehow ended up with the French team’s gas supply but left St. Chaffray behind. It turned out, the sponsor of the De Dion, the Marquis Jules-Albert de Dion, had decided he was over the race. And with that, three teams remained: the American Flyer, the Italian Zust, and the German Protos.
Now, following the fuss that the Americans kicked up regarding the Alaska debacle, the race committee agreed to credit the Flyer a fifteen days time allotment. Meaning the other teams could arrive in Paris a full two weeks before the Flyer and still technically lose the race. Well, the Italian team could. The German team… Well, they could arrive a full month ahead of Schuster and still lose. Because, there was apparently a little incident involving the Protos, a broken part, and a train…
If you’re having flashbacks to the Moto-Bloc incident, it’s remarkably similar. The Germans, in desperate need of repairs, resorted to shipping the car by train. Unlike the Moto-Bloc, the distance was much shorter, and apparently, there was some legitimate confusion about whether or not that particular maneuver was legal. The German driver’s justification was that he had already completed the most difficult part of the trek, so like…what’s the big deal?
So to be clear, despite all the cars leaving from the same city, they wouldn’t actually be racing against each other. They would be racing against where the Flyer would theoretically be had it not been detoured to Alaska.
Now, if you thought the trek across the continental United States was wild, the Trans-Siberian leg of the trip makes the US seem like a walk in the park. As you’ll recall, of the many issues facing the drivers in North America, inclement weather and a lack of navigable roads were arguably the most pressing. In Russia, not only did these issues remain, but they were further compounded with a general lack of supplies, no knowledge of the language or geography, and as the New York Times put it, a myriad of “obstacles that called forth almost superhuman courage, endurance, and perseverance.”
Regardless, the teams pushed on. Coming out of Vladivostok, the Flyer and the Protos agreed to leave at the same time, but when the Flyer needed some additional repairs, the German Protos left without them. To everyone’s great surprise, there was an actual road leaving the city. The Protos took off, determined to take advantage of their head start, and, they were making great time…plot twist, they weren’t making great time because they drove into a swampy river. The road led into a river.
Locals came to the Protos’ aide and brought planks to create a makeshift bridge. They were able to get the car out of the River and, remarkably, the Protos drove away from the incident no worse for the wear. Well, until it drove directly into a bog. Because in imperial Russia, after swamp, is bog.
After struggling for several hours in the bog, the Flyer team came across the suffering Germans. Despite the Protos leaving without them, the Americans stopped to help their fellow racers. They were able to free the Protos, and in a rare moment of camaraderie, the teams sat on the hoods of their cars and shared a bottle of champagne.
The cars departed taking different roads, and it seems like the Flyer took the road less traveled, because, after a short while, they too drove into a bog. It took 40 local soldiers to free the car. After spending a night at their military post, where they learned more about the roaming bands of robbers in the area… the Flyer headed out.
However, after attempting to follow a Post Road, impassable conditions forced the team to turn back to the military post. There, they learned the Germans had already arrived and left. Then, in their hot pursuit of the Protos, the Flyer took a wrong turn which cost them time. Five days to be exact.
Meanwhile, the Italian Zust, which had intended to leave Vladivostok with the others, remained in the city. They had received word that they had been withdrawn from the race. This also meant their patron was no longer funding them. Shocked, confused, and determined to finish—even without their sponsors’ support—the team began fundraising to continue the race.
Thankfully, the issue was resolved five days later. It turned out that the whole situation was a misunderstanding and that their Italian sponsors had even sent them a new driver to assist on the Trans-Siberian leg. Unfortunately, this delay cost them precious time, and put them significantly behind their German and American rivals.
Even though the Flyer technically had a 30-day lead, Schuster was more determined than ever to beat the Germans into Paris and did everything in his power to close the gap, but the rain in Eastern Siberia made it an even more difficult feat. The cars were getting stuck in the mud on a regular basis, and in some places, the ground was unnavigable.
The route the cars followed was based on the Trans-Siberian railroad, and the Flyer learned the Protos had taken to driving on the train tracks. Afraid they’d fall even further behind, Schuster followed suit.
At this point, it’s important to point out, neither car had received permission to use the tracks. In fact, the trains had no idea they were sharing the tracks with two cars. Though the tracks allowed the Flyer to make considerably better time, the risk of oncoming freight trains was pretty high… Something they would learn the hard way after nearly colliding with one.
Hellbent on beating the Germans, the Flyer continued on the tracks. Until the car’s transmission broke, on the railroad tracks…. Schuster proceeded to walk 15 miles to the nearest rail station, which mind you is in a tiny Siberian town, where he realized no one spoke English. Despite his best efforts to gesture and communicate non verbally, the situation was hopeless. He managed to eventually find a telegraph machine where he was able to wire the Thomas Factory in Buffalo.
The car was going to need a new transmission, but at best, it would take three weeks to arrive. Even with the extra 30 days the Flyer had over the Protos, this could cost them the race.
Rather than wait idly by for the part to arrive, Schuster asked the company to send the new transmission to a town ahead of their present location. In the meantime, he gathered supplies to fix the car just enough to last until the new part arrived. It was a precarious and dangerous position to be in… they were traversing barren stretches of Siberia with a transmission that was cobbled together out of spare parts and prayers.
Now after narrowly escaping death twice while driving on the Trans-Siberian railroad, the teams were banned from riding on its tracks. This meant that Schuster would have to work even harder to narrow the German lead. To make the race even more interesting, the Russians announced the first team to reach the siberian city of Chita outright (as in without the added time advantage) would receive $1,000…which in today’s money is just shy of $28,000.
Both the Protos and the Flyer made getting to Chita their main priority and pushed their already overworked cars to their limits. The Zust, which was still in the race, was still recovering from the lost time in Vladivostok and wasn’t really in contention for the prize or really even the race, but they never gave up.
Despite being five days behind, the Flyer managed to narrow the gap to 48 hours by Chita. Schuster managed to narrow the gap further by Lake Balkal, where the Flyer arrived just in time to see the Protos being loaded into a train car to cross the lake. For those of you keeping track, this was a sanctioned use of railroad resources in 0rder to cross the lake. Unfortunately for Schuster, they arrived four minutes before the train was scheduled to depart, and there just wasn’t enough time for the Flyer to be loaded on. Seeing as the Flyer had narrowly missed the train, the Protos agreed to wait for the Flyer on the other side of the lake, as that was only fair.
Plot twist. To no one’s surprise, the Germans didn’t wait. They took a brief rest and then resumed the race—creating a one day lead over the Americans, who, upon realizing the Germans had departed, just drove on despite their exhaustion.
The team of the Protos had established a regular rotation of driving shifts, allowing the team members to rest in between stints behind the wheel. Alternatively, the Flyer was under the iron fist of Schuster who, by this point, had fully adopted the persona of an ornery school bus driver. He refused to take turns with the other drivers and instead drove the car between 20-22 hours each day, himself.
After morale in the Flyer hit an all time low, the team finally convinced Schuster to let someone else drive. Begrudgingly, he handed over the wheel to one of his team mates. This arrangement lasted roughly thirty minutes before Schuster could no longer contain himself and again took over the driver’s seat. Impressively, during that 30 minute stretch as a passenger, Schuster managed to invent backseat driving.
This exhausting pace continued across Siberia. When the teams weren’t dealing with mud, navigating, or mechanical repairs, they had to worry about sourcing supplies. And, like all of the other supplies the teams needed to seek out, the food in Russia was less than ideal. After surviving days on end on only eggs, the Thomas crew was determined to locate some red meat. With none of the crew speaking Russian and their interpreter gone, the men attempted to convey their desire to some of the locals. After several failed attempts, the men started mooing and holding their hands to their heads like horns. Apparently, that message got across and the locals brought them some beef.
The Siberian slog of the race lasted two and a half months. At points, the Flyer would overtake the Protos only to run into a bog or mechanical difficulty and lose their lead. Other times, the Protos would push ahead only to suffer some unforeseen set back. Many papers reported that mere days of the trek proved more difficult than the months they endured in North America.
With much of Siberia finally in their nonexistent rearview mirrors, Schuster received a telegram from the Thomas Factory in Buffalo. It read: “Do you want us to send Montague Roberts to help you when you get on the good roads of Europe?” Now if you’ll remember, Monty Roberts was the famous racing driver who deserted the Flyer in Wyoming to drive the French Grand Prix.
Schuster. was. livid. He said he “could have eaten nails.” He was the only person on the Thomas team to have driven the entire length of the race from New York, and he had been good enough for Siberia but not the capitals of Europe? He immediately sent back a restrained reply, “July 9: Arrived today. Expect to reach Paris on July 24. Schuster.” Despite his fatigue, he was more determined than ever.
Even as the punishing pace took a physical toll on him, Schuster continued on. There were points where his limbs became numb from driving nonstop. He’d briefly allow someone else to take the wheel, before quickly reclaiming his seat. He had managed to open a one day lead and he was determined to hold it.
Except… he kept getting lost, and each wrong turn cost them huge amounts of time. By the time the Germans reached St. Petersburg, they had overtaken the Americans and built a three day lead. The Italians, still in the race, were 3,000 miles behind. But hey, it’s an honor just to be nominated.
The Germans arrived in Berlin on July 24th, where their fellow country men believed they were en route to winning outright. Crowds cheered the Protos, though their stay was short—lasting only five hours. They had intended to rest for the night 538 miles outside Paris in Brunswick, but they received word the Flyer had crossed the border into Germany, making the Americans uncomfortably close to overtaking them.
On July 26th, the Protos arrived in Paris. The crowds gathered to meet them gave them a tepid welcome. Le Matin didn’t even provide a formal reception. Though the Germans had technically beaten the Americans into Paris, if the Flyer arrived at any point in the next 30 days, they would be the victors.
Four days later, on July 30th, the Flyer reached the outskirts of Paris. Crowds gathered to greet the victorious car and celebrated as it drove the final miles to the finish line.
Over the din of the cheering crowd and the Flyer’s engine, Schuster heard an unexpected noise… police sirens. Assuming the officers were there to manage the crowd, Schuster thought nothing of it and continued on… Until, the police were clearly indicating that the car needed to pull over.
Confusion spread through the crew of the Flyer and amongst the crowd. People began yelling to the police that this was the winning car, and to let them pass. But the police informed the crew that they could not permit them to continue on. After 169 days of driving a car with no windshield or roof and through a North American winter and a Siberian spring, the Flyer was on the cusp of the finish line, and they were stopped dead in their tracks.
The police informed them they were under arrest, for the Flyer didn’t have headlights. Shocked, confused, and quite frankly angry, Schuster, the man whose ingenuity had carried the Flyer halfway around the world, had one last spark of genius left in him.
Glancing through the crowd, he noticed that an onlooker had brought a bicycle with them. And, that bicycle had a light on the front of it. Grabbing the bicycle, Schuster lifted it into the front seat of the Flyer. Annnd Voila! Instant headlights. Shockingly, this was enough to pacify the officer and the car was allowed to pass.
Surrounded by cheering crowds and with the American flag proudly waving from the back of the car, the Thomas Flyer and its crew drove down the boulevard poissonniere to the office of Le Matin. Four exhausted, khaki clad, disheveled men got out of the car to an enormous roar from the crowd.
They had done it. They had won the race.
When the dust settled, the American’s had won by a margin of 26 days- which continues to be the largest margin of any automotive competition, obviously. The Germans of course contested saying that as all the teams were given a level playing field in Vladivostok, only the second part of the journey should count. But holding fast to their previous decision, the race committee maintained the penalty against the Germans and the Alaskan time allowance.
Interestingly, the Italians did complete the race, and they alleged they won as they were the only ones to have run a “fair” race. Which given the sheer volume of shenanigans committed by all of the teams, is a hard hill to die on.
The Flyer received a hero’s welcome in America. Schuster invited Monty Roberts to drive the car into New York City and the welcome committee consisted of dignitaries, automotive giants, and huge crowds of people now fascinated by automobiles. Even President Roosevelt, the man who strong armed the Americans into entering the race in the first place, gave the team a hearty welcome and posed for a picture in the driver seat.
Schuster, vowed he would never do anything like this for money again, and even turned down his employers offer to tour the country with the now famous car. He settled back into his life working at the Thomas Factory– which he was now guaranteed a job for life.
The race had a lasting impact on the automotive industry. 1908 proved to be a significant year and the confluence of events led to the rise of the automobile. Prior to the race, cars were the hobby of the wealthy, who could afford the machines and their upkeep. They were a luxury item that were not considered as dependable as other forms of transportation. The New York to Paris race shattered that image.
Later in 1908, Henry Ford released the Model T, which made cars available and affordable to the masses, but the sinsation created by the race made cars appealing. The combination gave rise to the popularity of the car and the expansion of the infrastructure required to accommodate them. The network of navigable roads the papers thought were centuries away were accomplished only decades after the race. In 1908, it took the Flyer 42 days to drive from Times Square in New York City to San Francisco. Today, a car could make the same trip in 42 hours.
Sadly, the Thomas Factory, which initially benefited enormously from their success in the race, closed in 1913. Schuster was hired by the Pierce Arrow Company and his famous car was auctioned off.
Schuster lived out the rest of his life in Western New York. He opened his own car dealership in the 1920s and wrote a book on his experience in the race in 1966. He passed away at the age of 99 in 1972 and was posthumously inducted into the automotive hall of fame in 2010.
As for the car? After being auctioned in 1913, it entered into a private collection where it was forgotten about until 1964 when it was purchased by Bill Harrah, founder of Harrah’s Hotels & Casinos. When the sale was announced, Schuster was skeptical that it was the actual car he had driven across three continents, but, when he examined it, he was shocked to see evidence of several roadside repairs he had done on the fly.
The car was put on display in the National Automobile Museum in Reno Nevada, where it can still be seen today.
Lindsey Lauren Visser 