In Argentina, Domingo Marimón is a man of means. He runs an undertaking business, smokes big cigars, campaigns against Perón, and races automobiles. In Buenos Aires one midnight last month, Domingo stepped on the starter of his 1939 Chevrolet and waited for the Gran Premio de la America del Sur to begin. So did 137 other drivers * in their Fords, Chevies and a sprinkling of Plymouths, Nashes and Buicks. At the signal, they roared off into the night.
At first, the roads were good. Domingo purred along at a comfortable 70 m.p.h. Before reaching Caracas about 6,000 miles away ...
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