(Note: For the first entry in the Boheme Run blog, click here. For Part 2, click here.)

For the final stage of the Louis Vuitton Classic Boheme Run, there's one last push before Prague. I've hitched a ride in the most distinctive car of the field, the 1961 Tatra 603. The few words I know in Czech (pivo means beer and mraz, my last name, means frost) seemed to have sufficiently impressed the two Czech competitors, Leopold Bares, the Tatra's owner and driver, and his copilot Radek Pakorny. Later in the afternoon when we cross the finish line at Prague Castle the racers will have covered over 600 miles across the hinterlands and capitals of Austria, Hungary, and the Czech Republic.

Tatra, named after the mountain range that divides Poland and Slovakia, was founded in 1850 as a wagon manufacturer. Following Mercedes-Benz and Peugot, it's arguably the third oldest automaker in the world, producing Central Europe's first automobile in 1897. Today the company is synonymous with its boldly modern designs from the mid 20^th century--many of the earlier models, especially the 77 introduced in 1934, resemble prehistoric beasts you'd expect to find on the ocean floor.

The 603 is best known for its Communist origins. In 1948 all Czech companies, including Tatra, were nationalized. To meet the upper ranks's desires, Tatra introduced its first luxury car in 1957: The 603 was a 6-seater limousine reserved for Communist dignitaries and Eastern European party heads. (A great history of the 603 can be found at this aficionado's site.) Fidel Castro had, and allegedly still owns, a white 603.

From the outside, the first thing I noticed about Leopold's 603 was the hulking aggressiveness of its lines. This car looks powerful. Your eyes are immediately drawn forward to the three front headlights and the black bullet bumpers. Riding inside the car I'm struck by all the space. Up front are Leopold and Radek, both around 6' 2" and formidably built, and in the back are David, an architect from Brno who is writing a book on Tatras, Nathalie, a lovely young French woman who doesn't speak any English, and me, sitting center, 6' 4" and with plenty of leg room. If only airplanes were like this.

Radek, who owns a few boutique hotels in Prague and a collection of vintage Porsches, tells me in his curse-laced English that all the old Communist heads were big guys and so they wanted big cars. "If they knew we were taking you, an American, to Praha in this, their mighty 603, they'd be rolling in their damn graves!" It's even funnier because the car's interior, with its red metal dash, two-toned spring-cushioned seats, and chrome-covered instruments, resembles the most common of American classic cars, the '57 Chevy.

Unlike the Iachia team in the silver Bentley R-Type Continental, Leopold and Radek couldn't be more laid-back. Leopold skillfully dissected the pockmarked farm roads, getting the most out of the 603's V8, 2.5 litre engine. Radek barely glances at the LV Road Book (left) and keeps time only with his Rolex, no calculators or stopwatches or compasses here.

Yet we make incredible time to Prague Castle, the old engine groaning with each manual shift. Team Tatra placed third in the rally and Team Iachia a disappointing nineteenth. Later, at the LV Award Ceremony, as Leopold and Radek take one last spin for the applauding crowd, I was telling the woman next to me how I, an American with a Czech name and distant ancestry, first arrived in Prague in a Tatra 603. She was a lawyer named Nina who happened to be the daughter of former president Vaclav Havel and his wife, the actress Dagmar Veskrnova. "The people must have wondered 'Is it back?'" she said with a wry smile, watching as Leopold gunned the Tatra around the stage. Incredibly, thanks to its design, the 603 transcends its Party past.

--MICHAEL MRAZ