TRANSIT - Maphead - page 127

cleverly “fail-safe” each step of the way, so that even when you miss a turn or a trick, you
generally get looped back onto the correct route without ever realizing your misstep.
Thedevioustrapsbuiltintoeachsteptypicallyrely,inequalparts,oncarefulobservation
and hair-splitting interpretation of the contest's rules. You might think a “road” is the same
as a “named highway,” for example, but not in the Massacre: here, they're very different.
(A road is the line on the map, and it may carry one named highway, like “Interstate 25”
or “Iowa 42,” along its path, or several at the same time, or none at all.) “Course follow-
ing”—howtonavigatetheroadbetweentheendofoneinstructionandthebeginningofthe
next—seems like a simple concept, but in practice it requires a set of four tiebreaking rules
ofdecreasingpriority,eachsocomplexthateventheword“on”comeswithitsownClinto-
nian three-paragraph definition. Even punctuation matters: a place-name without quotation
marks refers to the place itself, but with quotation marks, it refers to the map text labeling
the place. And so on.
This level of precision can sometimes make the Massacre seem airless and technical to
clueless newbies like me, but Jim insists that's not the goal. “We try to make the rules cor-
respond to reality,” he tells me. “We try to keep as much verisimilitude as we can, to have
people actually feel like they're on the road, going from this point to that point. They're
seeing landmarks along the way. They're watching for turns.” For longtime participants,
much of the fun lies in the in-jokes and regular “characters” that pop up en route, adding
some color to the otherwise legalistic proceedings. The most beloved such regular is the
Old Maltese, a grizzled coot often spotted near his cabin in Malta, Montana. The Maltese
is Jim's alter ego in the yearly contest, and the Sinclairs still get phone calls at home every
February asking if “the Old Maltese is there.” (Participants are encouraged to call or write
if they don't understand the rules.) “I always say, 'He's not in, but can I help you?'” says
Jim.
These recurring traditions have kept the same players coming back to his contests for
decades.Theyareadevotedbunch.NancyWilson,aretiredERnursefromPetaluma,Cali-
fornia, has been playing in the Massacre for more than thirty years. She once scheduled
a trip to Liechtenstein just so that she could postmark her Massacre answer sheet from
the tiny Alpine country. (Jim makes sure to recognize the top score submitted from each
state and country.) Bart Bramley is a professional bridge player from Dallas (the Americ-
an Contract Bridge League player of the year in 1997, in fact) and a four-time winner of
the Massacre. His nearsightedness has been getting worse of late, but he's put off getting
the LASIK surgery that would cure his myopia in minutes. Why? Because now, without
contacts, his vision is clearest when he's looking at objects practically touching the tip of
his nose—the perfect distance for map rally purposes. “I can examine the map from about
one inch away and see everything,” he says. “If I got LASIK, I wouldn't be able to do that
anymore.”