From St. Loup we pushed south to Chamb�ry. Patches of ice were succeeded by slick, hard-packed snow. Chamb�ry was unbelievably cold. Hot waffles were served from an open van. Mechanics worked mightily, changing tires and making repairs. Drivers were bone-weary. Britain's Peter Harper, who had taken a works Sunbeam Rapier on a 120-mile side trip in Germany because a rally road and alternate roads were closed, nevertheless came into Chamb�ry clean. He said: "I feel as though I've done two rallies already." He looked like a dead man.
Another Sunbeam driver, Peter Procter, had got to Chamb�ry with no time demerits only because he sealed off a leaking cylinder-head gasket by using an old trick—dropping the whites of two eggs into the radiator. Later his heater failed and he used another, more expensive trick—pouring brandy on the windshield to clear the quickly forming ice.
During the hard Chamb�ry- Monaco run many drivers gulped what the British call wakey-wakey pills. The Rev. Rupert Jones, curate of Rochdale, offered his sidekick, the Rev. Philip Morgan of London, a small pill. "Will you have a cup of tea?" asked Jones. "Thank you, I shall," replied Morgan. "It was," said Morgan, back in Monte Carlo, "a very nice outing."
Snow fell all through the third night. My car traveled the safer, main roads. They were hairy enough, and I could imagine as we slipped and slid up and down mountains the frozen hell of the rally itself—traveling the highest and worst roads. But then rally drivers are another breed. "After Chamb�ry it was wonderful," said Bo Ljungfeldt's partner, Gunnar Haggbom. "What a fabulous car! What a wonderful ride from Chamb�ry!" said Trant Jarman.
"A beautiful car! I would start another rally tomorrow," said The Great Bo Ljungfeldt, pouring Coca-Cola into his Scotch.