poplar road

My spot in Mechano was taken by Cody, Gary and Lisa's 12-year-old son. Given Richard's experience on Moab trails and Mechano's stability, I don't think Gary or Lisa had a second's qualm about letting Cody ride with Richard. He was strapped into the 5-point harness and shown how to cross his arms over his chest in case of a rollover, and off they went. When they reached the obstacle known as Hell's Gate, they crawled down the V-shaped slickrock gully and watched Matt descend after them in his blue Toyota (shown here). Richard tightened Cody's harness and reminded him about crossing his arms, and then they headed upward for the return trip, Matt's Toy close behind them. It's a basic obstacle, after all. Damn, I wish I'd been there!

Here's what everyone else saw: Half way up to the Gate, Richard took Mechano up a line along the steep sides of the gully which caused one of the marshmallowy 44" tires to lift off the ground a little. And then a little more. And suddenly that front driver's side tire was doing a can-can in the air 25 feet above the slickrock and Cody crossed his arms over his chest under his floppy white hat. Richard leaned over to hold Cody in the seat as Mechano flipped backward over the opposite corner and then pirouetted on its lid to land flag side down just inches in front of Matt's Toyota. Close one.

But remarkably, the damage to Mechano was minor, at least until after Richard and Cody climbed out. It lay there, wheels in the air like a ladybug struggling on its back, and Matt attached a winch cable. Sadly, try as they might, they couldn't get Mechano to flip upright. Hell's Gate is almost 100 feet long and Mechano was dragged upside-down almost to the bottom before they finally got it on its wheels again. Greg's video, which I got to see at camp the next night, shows Richard doing the Charlie Brown "good grief!" with his hand to his head as the truck scrapes and scrunches down the hill. My poor man.

Meanwhile, young Cody was gleefully requesting a copy of the video for show and tell when he gets back to school. And when Mechano was upright again, Gary and Lisa let him get back in the truck. If it had been me… well, let's just say I was sorry to miss seeing it, but thank god I wasn't the one in the passenger seat! Otherwise I never would have driven Golden Spike on Thursday. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Here are two more shots from Hell's Revenge, day one.

Kermit D Mog, here.

Kira, Stubby Toy, Big Bird, and the Mog.

The next few hours on Hell's Revenge were spent playing in Mickey's Hot Tub. (The ladies were disappointed to find out that the Hot Tubs are deep, dusty pits in the slickrock that trucks usually have to winch out of. No water involved.) Gary was the first casualty with a blown burfield, which he later realized must have happened several days earlier when he and Rick drove the Hammers in Johnson Valley as a prelude to Moab. Then Matt's differential bound up and he feared another blown burf, but after taking things apart everything seemed fine. Rick also discovered some Hammers damage, sheared steering arm bolts. Everyone drove out but Big Bird needed work the next morning, which kept us in camp until noon. (Note: in Part II, I'll share some of the others' photos, which should include the Hot Tubs and hopefully Richard's rollover.)

Day two, Wednesday, began with lunch at Area BFE, a group of trails including Upper Helldorado, owned by a group of wheelers bent on preserving existing trails when those areas come up for sale. We made a donation to the fund and followed the signs to the boulder-lined sluice called Helldorado. Matt was first in line, at about 2pm. He candy-caned his rear drive shaft almost immediately, and left us to get back to town and find a good welder before closing time.

Matt dents his drive shaft.

Gary's Toyota makes it look easy.

Richard decides to try a different line.

Squeeeeeeeeezed through that one.

Danaeya sits still just for a second with Mom...

… to watch Daddy in Big Bird.

With Matt already out of the game, the guys consult (with some loud input from us girls) and decide not to risk the remaining two Toyotas on the rougher upper half of the trail when it's almost dinnertime. Richard gets ready to turn around and drive back down, but takes a flippant remark from Gary as an opportunity to get behind the video camera and let Gary do the driving, with Rick spotting. Rick, with a little help from Richard, gets Gary to pose Mechano on top of a boulder for photo ops, and then down the other side. He preferred the response of his Toy's steering, but the ride on the squishy tires brought a smile to his face.

At this point, Lisa and I have been taking photos a while and from behind the lens the lower half of Helldorado looks pretty flat in comparison. So Lisa agrees to Richard's suggestion she drive Mechano the rest of the way as Gary and Rick turn their Toyotas around in the bypass. To Richard's surprise I jumped in with Lisa, mostly because I get fed up navigating all those loose rocks on foot. Richard videotaped so again I have no photos, but I bet Gary has a few. When we got to that last large boulder, the one where Richard caught some air in the photo above, he made Lisa brake for a (long) minute, both of us hanging on and wondering how we'd forgotten the steep bit. Rick came around in Big Bird to attach a tow strap, just in case, but it remained slack as Lisa released the brake and we dropped to the ground. No problem. Little did I know, this was a light warm-up for me driving Golden Crack the next day. At least on Helldorado I could see the ground….

Day Three: Poison Spider Mesa and Golden Spike

These are some of the most popular trails in Moab for both rock-crawlers and mountain bikers. The views are spectacular, and at the top of the Golden Spike trail we could look back toward the river gorge and trace our path all the way across mesas and gulleys for the 9 hours we'd spent on the trail. I drove Mechano for most of the daylight hours, through obstacles like Wedgie, a rift through the rock that gave everyone a chance to twist their axles to the limit, and Launching Pad, whose steep slope terrified me until my sheer horror at descending the near-vertical Rim of the World drove all other fears from my head. Not long after that, Greg bent the tie-rod on his Unimog for the first time, and we halted for a while on the hillside where I took this image. The sun was disappearing behind the high rock faces surrounding us as we finally reached the first major obstacle on Golden Spike, called Golden Crack. (Then the sun set and it was another 4 hours before we made it back to camp, minus Greg and the Unimog.) Here are a few shots from Poison Spider, mostly on Wedgie.

The three obstacles I was looking forward to, remembering the last two trips, were Golden Crack, Double Whammy, and Golden Staircase. Had we taken the Rusty Nail trail to Golden Spike, barring any setbacks we would have come out right at Golden Crack, with time for Richard to play on Excalibur as well. But with the wide Unimog and fairly stock Jeep which Pam's friends Tammy and Rob were riding in for the day, Poison Spider Mesa was our best option to get to the head of Golden Spike. However, with a late start to our day at noon, delays when the group got split up for a while, and stops to repair both Big Bird and Kermit D Mog, it was sunset before we were all across the Crack, still a couple of hours from the end of the trail.

My drive across – no photos in the dark, alas – was exciting but over far too quickly. Rick, Gary and Matt were also across easily, and even the ill-equipped Jeep made it unscathed with some quick steering by Rob. Unfortunately, Greg's tie-rod bent again as the Mog crossed the Crack. Without an on-board welder there was no way to repair it enough to continue on in the pitch black of desert night. Not over Double Whammy and Golden Staircase, especially. It was a tough decision for Greg but he chose to stay the night in the Mog, tucked under the rock face at Golden Crack with our spare food and clothing to keep him and Kira safe until Richard and Matt could come back with a welder the next day.

The rest of us continued on the Spike, grateful that the Jamboree staff the previous weekend had re-painted the trail markings across the rock. But between the rock faces up which we all took the easiest lines, and took care to get every vehicle through without damage, there was sand. We lost the trail. Flashlights out and with Richard racking his brain to remember and recognize the route, we found new markings, for Gold Bar Rim trail. This, thankfully, led out, and was mostly dirt track rather than a lot of tough obstacles. It was a long, chilly, and dusty drive but we made it back to civilization, driving over the foot of the rock formation wheelers call the Gooney Bird in thanks for our good fortune. It was one in the morning when we reached the highway. Matt did a few exhuberant wheelies in the parking lot before we headed back to the campground, Richard and Matt to plan the rescue trip back to the Mog, and the others to prepare for the drive home.

The guys blaze through Rusty Nail in under an hour…

…in to get the part, out to weld it, and in again.

While the guys were rescuing the Mog, which required bringing the part out for welding and back again before the Mob could be moved, Greg's wife Barb and I spent the day sheltering from the wind. Rick and Gary loaded up in the morning and they were all on their way by noon, a little later than planned because the late night and the sand whipped up by the wind slowed them down. They missed visiting Arches National Park, which is one of Moab's other main attractions and has the most stunning rock formations in the area. Another Moab attraction is the shopping – one over-stuffed gift shop after another – but the wind, concern about the guys, and my cold were too much for me. Barb and I made a quick visit to town for lunch, then holed up in the campground for the rest of the day while the wind continued. The three vehicles took longer to drive out than Mechano and Stubby Toy alone, so the guys didn't get back until after dark. Understandably, packing up the next morning took longer than we'd have liked, though I didn't realize we were leaving right away, having missed Greg's decision at dinner not to wait for delivery of his replacement tie rod. True to the pattern of the previous few days, we weren't on the road until noon. Everyone was really, really tired.

Highway 6, open again after a nasty collision.

Rimrock Lake – another wheeling destination.

Our road trip home took us up Highway 6, past the site of the tanker explosion, and through Salt Lake traffic. After that we made good time, and were ready to stop for dinner as we neared Boise, when a storm hit. Strong winds, lashing rain, and stunning forked lightning. Tanking up soaked the guys to the skin, so we abandoned the BBQ at the rest area idea in favour of a nice dry restaurant. More delays. I think we spent the night in a rest area in eastern Oregon, but I don't really remember much other than it was 1am when we stopped and barely dawn when we got up. I don't know how Richard does it; I could barely keep my eyes open in daylight, and after dark I'm done.

Oregon flew by, and then north of Yakima Richard and I said goodbye to the others and turned off onto Highway 12, familiar from our wheeling trip to Wenatchee in 2004, and also home to Rimrock Lake, where another wheeling event is scheduled for this summer. Our side trip to visit Tim, Debbie and their family was short and sweet, and we were through Seattle and approaching the border in record time.

However, Moab seems an awful lot farther away now that we live four hours futher north. Crossing the border used to feel like home sweet home, but now it's just the start of another journey. We only made it as far as the rest area at the Coquihalla summit, but the beauty of a camper (old and ugly as ours is) is that tired travellers can stop, climb in and sleep in the comfort of a good duvet and feather pillows, just about anywhere. It was lightly snowing when we got up but we hardly noticed. We were home at 9:30 – and Richard was asleep at 9:35. We both still had the chest cold and he could have used another week off just to sleep, but he has Unimogs to sell, so he was back to work early the next morning.

I can't believe it's been over a week since we got back. I keep forgetting it's already halfway through May. Part II of the vacation highlights will have to wait another week or more, until we get copies of everyone else's photos and I can choose a few to post. Just a few – this has to be my longest post ever.