The Republic of Raid
By James Bowyer

"The cities are impossible. People need to go back to nature," says a typically flamboyant Gerard Fusil during a brief interview at the finish line of the eighth Raid Gauloises.

Escape, albeit for two adventure-filled weeks a year, is a theme Fusil returns to often. The Raid, he says, has become more than a sports event--it is a voyage of self-discovery. And the ultimate destination of the race he founded balances precariously between a profound sense of self-awareness and physical annihilation.

Just over half the 46 teams who began this year's race made it across the finish line. Some teams were spat out with broken bones, chronic dehydration, or severe blistering. Others failed to beat the Raid clock and were forced out of the running by unfeeling cut-off times. And some simply crumpled under the strain of continually moving across the 435-mile course. But despite the suffering, many of the athletes vowed to return.

It is this potent combination of agony and ecstasy that has made the Raid the Holy Grail of endurance racing.

"It is tough because it is endurance," offers Fusil, shrugging off any remorse he may feel for the athletes who choose to follow his course through hell--although his worst hour, he adds with some compassion, was when a helicopter battled through bad weather to reach a seriously injured Raider.

In its eighth year, the race has come into its own. The Raid organization has swollen to more than 100 members, including Fusil's own television production company, which exists solely to cover the event. They are pursued by a flock of over 100 journalists feeding more than 400 media services around the world. Then there are the hundreds of team assistants and--last but not least--the athletes themselves.

Considering the logistics of organizing up to 500 people spread across hundreds of Third World miles, the Raid continues to be an astounding success.

Fusil is the kind of person the sticky stuff of legend easily clings to. As a radio journalist in France, he has 20 years of experience covering world sports events, enough time to transcend into a personality journalist. His part in crossing the Atlantic in a 70-foot catamaran and capturing the record for the fastest crossing at the time added to his fame.

Then there are the rumors. It was said he reported on the Gulf War by pretending to be a U.S. soldier in order to slip through military lines. Not quite so, says a smiling Fusil, who was covering an event in North Africa at the time.

But it is as the father of the Raid that Fusil is most well known. His race has spawned a rash of similar events around the world, including the Eco-Challenge. Sports companies eager to be on the cutting edge have taken note and now are making products specifically to satisfy the needs of the Raid and other endurance events.

This year's race was noted for the new technology that seasoned teams brought to the race. Raiders used mountain-bike tires that threw off mud using new designs, space-age cookers that fitted into pockets, and multi-purpose shoes designed with the Raid in mind. Rumors about Raid endurance schools are handed around, and there is talk about a Raid book that will come out, along with other spin-offs.

Next year Fusil's time-tested recipe will be taken to the wilds of the Philippines, where the legacy of self-punishment is sure to grow.

James Bowyer is a freelance journalist living in Cape Town, South Africa.