Page 40 of The Big Race
Make Merit
W hen we reached the Stop’n’Go at eight in the evening, we were team number three, behind Fletcher and Adrienne and Zara and Maxwell. Soon after we arrived, Alex and Ross showed up, having finished the rice challenge. It was already well after dark by the time Gemini and Blaine showed up.
In the end, our advice to the sorority sisters wasn’t enough to keep them in the race. “We gave it everything we had,” Gemini told Julie, her arms visibly trembling from the exertion.
“But some things just take years of practice,” Blaine added with a rueful smile.
The next morning, we woke in Bangkok ready to start the next challenge, and met Julie at the departure mat at 8 AM. Our destination card read, “Travel to Luang Prabang in Laos and find your next card at Wat Xieng Thong, the Golden City Temple.”
“Laos,” Ray said. “How do we get there?”
We rushed across the street to an office with a big Travel Agency sign. We explained where we wanted to go, and the agent turned to her computer.
While she worked I looked at a map of Southeast Asia on the wall. “How far is Luang Prabang from Vientiane?” I asked.
“By plane is very quick, only one hour. By bus could be six or seven hours.”
I felt that familiar knot of anxiety. Being third to leave meant Adrienne and Fletcher had a nearly two-hour head start, and Alex and Ross were forty-five minutes ahead of us.
The agent consulted her computer, growing apologetic. "There is a morning flight at 9:30, with a connection to Luang Prabang. I am sorry, but you could not make it to the airport in time for that flight.”
My heart sank. Since the first two teams had left long before us, they’d probably caught that flight. “The next flight with direct connections is tomorrow at 9:30 AM."
"There's nothing today? Nothing at all?"
"You can fly to Vientiane this morning at 11:15. You will be able to stay overnight there, and then connect to Luang Prabang," she offered helpfully.
Ray and I exchanged glances. Vientiane was the capital, but it wasn't our destination. Still, it would get us into Laos.
"Is there any way from Vientiane to Luang Prabang tonight?" I asked.
"Bus," she said simply. "Six hours, very scenic through the mountains. Buses leave every two hours until 8:00 PM."
Behind us, I heard familiar voices. Zara and Maddox had arrived at the counter, their cameraman trailing behind them.
Ray and I shared a look. "Book us on the Vientiane flight," Ray said, and I nodded. "Two tickets."
As the agent processed our tickets, I heard Zara asking the same questions, getting the same answers.
The first two teams had clearly caught the morning flight to Luang Prabang - they'd be there hours ahead of us.
Now it was a race between us and the influencers to see who could navigate from Vientiane to Luang Prabang fastest.
Behind us, Zara was animated, gesturing as she spoke to Maddox. "This is perfect content," I heard her say. "Adventure travel realness. Our followers are going to love this."
Ray caught my eye and smiled grimly. "Time to see if we're as good at this as we think we are."
"I hate the idea of waiting around in Vientiane overnight," I murmured to Ray as we headed back outside. "At least if we take the bus, we'll get there tonight."
"Assuming we can find the bus station and get tickets," Ray replied. "And assuming our stomachs can handle six hours of mountain roads."
Thirty minutes later, we were in the airport terminal, following signs to the domestic departures area. On the way I stopped to buy a guidebook to Laos that had a big section on Luang Prabang. Once we were settled, Maddox and Zara joined us. She had bought the same guidebook I had.
“You have any idea what they could have waiting for us?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “The book says it’s a UNESCO World Heritage site. Lots of temples, traditional architecture. The clue mentioned The Golden City Temple. Gorgeous place. Very Instagram-worthy, not that I'll have time to properly photograph it."
We both looked at our books. Luang Prabang was on the Mekong River. Lots of French colonial architecture mixed with traditional Lao buildings.
“Oh, there’s a night market,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get in with enough time to get there, if that’s where the challenge is.”
“There are also tons of waterfalls in the area,” I said. "Waterfalls could mean water challenges. Swimming, maybe, or some kind of river crossing."
"Please no," Zara groaned. "Maddox is terrified of deep water. He can barely handle hotel pools."
I glanced at her partner, who had his head down and appeared to be dozing. "Really? He always seems so confident."
"That's just his on-camera persona. Off camera, he's pretty anxious about physical stuff. I'm the daredevil between us." She smiled. "People always assume it's the other way around because of how we look. That he’s the strong one and I’m petite and dainty.”
It was a reminder that we all had hidden depths, fears and strengths that didn't necessarily match our public personas.
"What about you two?" she asked. "Any weaknesses the other teams should know about?"
I laughed softly. "Ray's afraid of looking weak, so he pushes through challenges even when he should ask for help. And I overthink everything to the point of paralysis sometimes."
"Sounds like you balance each other out."
"When we're working together, yeah. When we're not..." I trailed off, not wanting to go into our marital troubles with a competitor.
"The temples could involve puzzle challenges," Zara continued, sensing my reluctance to elaborate. "Matching Buddhist symbols, arranging objects in the correct order for ceremonies. That kind of thing."
"Or physical challenges disguised as cultural ones," I added. "Like having to carry heavy offering bowls up steep temple steps, or perform some kind of traditional dance or martial art."
Ray stirred beside me, mumbling something about monkeys in his sleep. Zara giggled.
"What do you think happened to Adrienne and Fletcher and Alex and Ross?" she asked. "Think they're already doing the challenge?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve watched the show for years, and it’s rare for the producers to let a couple of teams get so far ahead.”
She cocked her head. “So there might be a chance for us to catch up?”
I shrugged. “We’ll see when we get there.”
“They could be sitting around with nothing to do because whatever challenge awaits us can't start until morning,” Zara said with a mischievous grin. “Sometimes being behind actually works in your favor."
It was an optimistic take, and I hoped she was right.
The flight to Vientiane was mercifully short - just over an hour - but every minute felt crucial. As we descended toward Wattay International Airport, I saw the Mekong River winding through the city, the golden spires of temples catching the late afternoon light.
"Okay," I said as we deplaned, Cody right behind us with his camera. "Bus station, tickets to Luang Prabang, and pray we can stay ahead of the social media stars."
Zara and Maddox were right behind us, though, moving with surprising efficiency for people who usually posed for photos at every opportunity. This was no time for content creation - this was survival.
We were able to get tickets for all four of us and our camera operators on the two PM bus. It pulled away from Vientiane's chaotic terminal in bright sunshine, casting the Mekong River in shades of gold and crimson.
"Six hours," Ray said, checking his watch. "Think you can handle the mountain roads?"
"With neither of us driving or worrying about stick shifts? I’d like to try and relax. We’ll get to Luang Prabang when we do, and see what the challenge is."
“Very Zen of you,” Ray said with a smile. “Southeast Asia is working on you.”
The bus was comfortable enough—not luxury, but clean with decent seats and working air conditioning. Zara and Maddox sat a few rows behind us, already documenting their "authentic Southeast Asian travel experience" despite the mundane reality of vinyl seats and the faint smell of diesel fumes.
As we left the city behind, the landscape began to change.
The flat rice paddies gave way to rolling hills, then proper mountains covered in dense forest. The road carved through valleys where small villages appeared like hidden secrets—clusters of wooden houses on stilts, golden temple roofs catching the last light, children waving from doorways as our bus rumbled past.
"Look at that," Ray pointed to a waterfall visible through the trees, cascading down rocky cliffs in multiple tiers. "You could spend days exploring just this one valley."
I nodded, watching the scenery unfold like a slow-motion film reel.
For weeks, we'd been racing past some of the world's most beautiful places, too focused on competition to appreciate where we were.
Now, forced to sit still and watch Laos roll past our window, I felt something I hadn't experienced since the race began: genuine peace.
"This is nice," I said quietly.
Ray reached for my hand. "Yeah, it is."
The bus wound higher into the mountains, our driver navigating hairpin turns with casual expertise.
In the late afternoon light, cooking fires began to twinkle from houses tucked into hillsides.
The air that drifted through slightly open windows carried the scent of woodsmoke and jasmine, unfamiliar spices and the green smell of jungle growth.
Other passengers dozed or chatted quietly in Lao, their conversations creating a gentle murmur that mixed with the steady rumble of the engine. An elderly woman across the aisle unpacked a meal of sticky rice and grilled fish, offering some to her seatmate with easy generosity.
"We never do this anymore," I said, watching the woman share her food. "Just travel to see places, without an agenda or schedule."
"When we get home," Ray said, "let's plan a real trip. Somewhere we can take our time."
"No itinerary?"