As the Linzes wait on the mat, Alex says, "Team Who Dey...ready to rock," in a way so dorky that it cracks up his dorky siblings. At 3:08 AM, they open the Montreal clue and leave. There is some general talk about going after the million dollars as hard as they can, and there is a lot of looking at maps with headlamps ablaze.

4:02 AM. Weavers. They head for the Billings airport. Mama says in a voice-over that they weren't seen as a threat early on, but they've managed to stay in somehow. She doesn't seem to consider the possibility that this says less about her family than about the fact that the race just wasn't as difficult as people thought it might be. If you start out running a marathon and you're not seen as much of a contender, and then it turns out that you can drive golf carts the whole way, and you wind up being a decent golf-cart driver, it doesn't exactly prove you can run fast. Rolly adds that "it feels good to be underestimated." I wonder if it also feels good not to have anyone like you or want to talk to you, and I wonder if it will feel good to turn 40 and realize that you gave up your best opportunity to look around at the country where you live because you were too busy sitting in your trailer thinking up clever nicknames for other teams. Mama adds in the car that "Rolly is the man of the team." She says, "He grew up quick this last year and a half." While I recognize that all kids probably "grow up quick" in such a situation, so she's not technically wrong, it creeps me out that she's putting all this "man of the team" stuff on her 14-year-old kid. Of all the acceptable solutions to the problem of losing your husband when you subscribe to the philosophy that the husband is the head of the family, making your barely-teenage son the head of the family would not seem to me to be one of them. She notes that Rolly has handled his responsibilities "like a real man." Of course, he's not a real man. He's a real kid. And one would hope his mother is still in touch with that fact on some level.