I rolled over in my sleeping bag and looked at my watch.  “7am.  Why is it so hot in here?”

We had set up our tents shortly after 10pm the night before.  The location of that camp was in Little Canyon near the Gooney Bird just north of Moab in Utah.  Although we had left snow behind us in Denver, Utah was welcoming us with sunshine and clear blue skies.  Even at 7am.

I crawled out of my tent and stretched my arms high above my head.  “Man!  That sun feels good!”

Caveman was leaning on his Jeep with a wrench in one hand and a sandwich in the other.  “My alternator is broke.  I gotta go in to Moab for another one.”

“You ain’t even out of camp yet, and you broke that thing already,” I teased as I walked  by my Rocky and gave the front tire a courtesy kick.  To my surprise, it nearly fell off the axle.

Caveman started laughing and nearly choked on his breakfast.  “It ain’t supposed to wobble like that.”

I shoved my hat back and grinned.  “That’s what I said.  I ain’t even out of camp yet and I broke this thing already.”

Actually, I broke it before I left Denver.  I just didn’t know it.  It all started when Texin came by the shop and started playing with my wheel.  “You better pack this hub before you leave.”

“How do I do that,” I responded.  “The only thing I know about a 4x4 is when I put it in low range, it boldly takes me places I ain’t never been before.”

“It’s easy,” he grinned as he headed for his Jeep.  “Just pull the wheel off and put grease in the bearings.  See ya Friday.”

On his advice, I pulled the wheel off the Rocky and shoved in lots of grease.  In the process, I broke a key off the washer that goes between the nut that holds the wheel on, and the one that holds the nut that holds the wheel on.  Not knowing any better, I put it back together, tossed in the camping gear, and headed for Utah.  Along the way, the nuts worked loose and I’m not real sure what kept the wheel from falling off.  I spent the next 30 minutes tightening it down again so I could get through the weekend.

The rest of the day, our Dirty Dozen went out and got dirty.  Dusty, Postman, Melissa, and I visited Gemini Bridges, Bull Canyon, and Gold Bar Rim.  Road Kill went into Moab looking for truck parts.  MacGyver and Peddler were staying in the same camp with us, but were not registered for the scheduled trips.  While packing their vehicles, they talked Texin, Caveman and Kentuckian into joining them on the Golden Spike Trail.  It’s a mild mannered VDL trail for MODIFIED vehicles.  Blue Moon and South Paw had not yet arrived.

By the time the day was over, Texin was limping into camp with a busted axle and Kentuckian was wandering around with dazed eyes mumbling things like, “I ain’t never seen a trail like that before” and “I didn’t know my Jeep could do that.”

Sunday morning was another beautiful day.  Blue Moon, Dusty, and I took Postman, and a new member, Melissa, who doesn’t have a handle yet, up the training course on Poison Spider Mesa.  They were quick learners.  After one particularly tough spot, I got out to help them through only to find they were already through with big grins on their faces.

By the time we got back to camp, Texin had a new axle in his Jeep but was needing new brakes.  MacGyver was on his way to town to have his daughter’s foot looked at.  Seems she was trying to climb one of the canyon walls and dropped a big rock on it.  South Paw and the Mrs. were brewing some kind of Herbal Tea that smelled strong enough to power a Jeep up Lion’s Back, and Caveman had just finished watching the sun come up in the East and go down in the West.  Guess he had never done that before.  Oh Yeah, I kicked my tire and it almost fell off again.

Monday morning was the warmest yet.  So warm, Texin and I hopped into his open Jeep and roared down the highway to visit our friends at Slickrock Jeep Rental.  They were able to weld a new key on the washer that holds the nut that holds the nut that holds the wheel on my Rocky while Texin used their jacks to lift his Jeep and put new brake shoes on.  By the time he and I got our vehicles going, everybody else was packed up and ready to head for Hole in the Rock.  Texin went on with them while Firebird and I wandered off in search of a late breakfast.  Actually, it was more like a late lunch.  Well, I guess it could also be an early dinner.  In any case, we were the last to leave Moab, or at least we thought we were, until we looked in the rear view mirror and spotted Blue Moon’s Bronco.  We caught up with the rest of the group about 8pm at the Fort.

Tuesday morning started out kinda slow.  Except for the temperature, that is.  It jumped up to about ninety degrees and stayed there all day.  We were doing really great, no scratches, until Blue Moon tried to follow my Rocky between a hard place and a rock.  By the time he figured out it wouldn’t fit, the rocker panel done had an original Utah inscription on the passenger side.  Everybody else decided to take the optional wider route.

We set up our tents about an hour after dark.  Kentuckian found a bad u-joint in his Jeep and spent most of the evening putting a new one in.

By Wednesday morning, a few members were covering all the exposed parts of their bodies with sun screen, but mother nature was determined to get past all that artificial stuff and the temperatures soared well above 90 degrees.  We took the group down the chute and headed toward Lake Powell.  On the way, Dusty was playing around and jumped his rocky’s front end up in the air.  When all those spinning tires came back down, something snapped and presto.  No more front drive.  He had to finish the trail in two wheel drive.

When we reached the end of the trail, we began hiking to the lake.  The crowd very quickly split up in two groups.  Young’uns out front.  The rest of us behind.  Way behind.  Along the way, Blue Moon and Miss Blue dropped out of the hike and went skinny dipping in a pool under a waterfall.  A few hours later, the rest of us returned but no one had seen the young’uns.  We waited until dark, then packed up all the flashlights we could find and headed for the lake.  We found them a couple hours later trying to find their way back with cigarette lights and matches.  Seems they had gone swimming in the lake, got to flirting with some girls on a houseboat, and forgot to allow for the two hour hike back.

We got back to our vehicles about 11pm and headed for camp.  I turned on the 600 watts of Warn sunshine and lead the way.  Some spots were tricky, but we made it all the way to the Chute with no problems.  I topped it out at shortly past midnight.  The rest of the group followed close behind.  Dusty’s front drive even kicked in and he was able to get up the chute without assistance.

Hole in the Rock

On Thursday morning, we left camp and headed for the Fort.  On the way, we found the remains of an old wagon sitting along side the trail at a point where the 4x4 trail takes a different path than the original wagons took.  We were so excited about finding the old trail and the wagon, we forgot to watch the time.  We started down off Grey Mesa at 4pm with the hardest part of the trail ahead and only a few hours of daylight left.

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Just as we rounded the corner with the Fort in sight, the soft sandy shoulder crumbled away and the ditch swallowed Blue Moon’s Bronco like a snake swallowing a rat.  We used the Rocky’s Warn XD9000 winch to get him back on course.  We set up camp slightly past dark and built an eye level campfire.  Everyone was basking in the satisfaction of having conquered one of the toughest trails in the state and the stories around the campfire were growing as fast as the flames.

When Friday morning came, our good weather went.  We were greeted with black clouds and gusty winds.  We decided to head for Moab.  My crew mutinied me in Moab and snuck off to the local motels.  I stopped at the store for a fresh steak and headed back to Little Canyon.  The weather stayed nice all night, but after the sun came up, the rain moved in.  When Pass Patrol assembled in Moab, we decided to head for Denver Rain in Moab means snow in Vail.  We wanted to clear the pass before it was closed.  We made it through just a couple hours before the signs went up.

This year’s season kick-off to Utah has been voted as the best ever yet.  It was exactly what all of us with cabin fever needed.  We had built up all that tension through the winter and this single trip drained every ounce of it away.  We had lots of vehicle trouble but most of it was just worn out parts that we knew were going anyway.  The rest was the result of taking the fun routes instead of the cautious routes and paying the price.  For those of you who didn’t make it, we’ve got enough campfire tales to last all summer.  Come on out and watch them grow.

Happy Trails!

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