Another of the adventures of PASS PATROL

"Mommy, where did I come from?"  Obviously, that question has been on the minds of mankind since the first person stood up and said, "Here I stand, therefore, I am here."

According to a book titled Prehistoric Indians by Barnes and Pendleton, the Hopi Tribes believe Tawa created everything that is.

Another book titled Exploring Ancient Native America by David Hurst Thomas, quotes a popular Native American story which credits Tu-chai-pai for making the world.  That legend says, "Earth was the woman and sky was the man."  Sky came down upon Earth and everything else is history.

Archaeologists seem to believe mankind first existed in Africa.  According to their theory, those ancient humans began fanning out from Africa about 200,000 years ago. Some went northwest and some went northeast.  160,000 years passed before the ones going northwest settled in the part of Europe where Columbus was born.  190,000 years went by before the others reached Utah where this story is headed.  That theory is based on a trail of the Ancient Ones that entered North America during a time when glaciers had sucked up much of the world's oceans and exposed a land crossing between Siberia and Alaska.  From there, the Ancient Ones traveled South, continuing to live as hunters and gathers until they reached the four corners area of Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico.  They seemed to like the area so well they began building homes, planting fields of grain, and living in communities.

It's a good thing Columbus didn't know that.  He sure would have been disappointed to find out his ancient cousins had discovered America 10,000 years before he was born.

Everything we know about the Ancient Ones is based on theory.  Believing firmly in theory is like building a house on sand.  Sure as shootin', someday all that sand will blow away and everything comes tumbling down.  In the case of the Ancient Ones, that's exactly what happened in 1926 when someone uncovered some bison bones in New Mexico dating back many thousands of years.  Until that day, everyone who was anyone in the field of archaeology was firmly convinced that the Ancient Ones had not been in the area any longer than the cliff dwellings.  Everything they believed came tumbling down when an arrowhead was discovered between the ribs of a bison that had been killed and butchered many thousands of years before humans supposedly existed in New Mexico.

Those of you who followed my directions for Ancient Ones of Comb Ridge which appeared in the September '95 issue of 4Wheel Drive & Sport Utility Magazine, already know where Arch Canyon is located west of Blanding, Utah.  That's where Pass Patrol's 4x4 Travel Club met in November to begin another journey along the trails of the Ancient Ones.  

We had a good fire going that evening.  Temperatures dropped well below the freezing mark.  Gathering firewood along Comb Ridge is forbidden so each of our members had two bundles packed in with the rest of the gear.  We normally expect to burn three bundles of firewood and two 5 pound firelogs per night.

We spent our first day revisiting Arch Canyon.  The canyon walls on both sides of the winding path are dotted with cliff dwellings dating back nearly a thousand years.  They are small and blend in with the rocks making them difficult to see.  The best preserved ones are high up in the cliffs requiring binoculars to pick them out.  Ohters are only a short distance from the canyon floor.  All of them depict a lifestyle too harsh for modern folks to even imagine.

On the second day, we packed up our gear and headed north toward Hotel Rock. There are two major accesses to that road.  The one we used headed toward Arch Canyon, but crossed the creek instead of following the streambed.  On the opposite side of the creek, we took the left fork and were quickly greeted by infamous Utah slickrock.  The first intersection was easy to find, but two vehicles missed the second intersection and ended at the edge of a cliff looking down on Arch Canyon. They backtracked and joined us at the first major obsticle.  I was in the lead with my Blazer and was unable to get over it using normal techniques.  My left front tire and my right rear tire were both off the ground and vehicle was rocking back and forth on the other two.  I stretched the cable from my Warn 8000 winch to a tree and was soon on my way.

The Bronco behind me quickly became hung up in the same manner but did not have a winch.  I drove the Blazer along a narrow ledge to a point where I could turn around and aim my winch downhill.  My cable did not quite reach so Blue Moon pulled up behind the Bronco, ran his cable past the Bronco, and through a pulley clamped to the end of my winch cable.  He then ran his cable back to the Bronco and hooked it to the tow hook.

At first, the winch was pulling me downhill, rather than pulling the heavy Bronco uphill, leaving four distinct patches of B.F. Goodrich rubber on the slickrock.  Then my right front tire jammed against a rock and the Bronco was free.  The rest of the vehicles were winched through and we continued our journey.

The rest of the obsticles consisted of extremely steep off-camber climbs but all the vehicles made it up except one who popped a hub and had to be winched.  It took us four hours to go six miles.  

Hotel Rock is well named.  It is located at the top of a mesa and stands out like a highrise on a football field.  It's south side has a row of cliff dwellings about half way up from the bottom.  There are more dwellings and a cave on the Northwest side.  Please admire these structures from a distance.  They are very fragile.  Do not let children play near them.  The cliff is dangerously close and they could easily slide down the smooth slickrock surface and over the edge.

We enjoyed a picnic lunch in the front yard of the hotel, then continued North toward Beef Basin.  The first part of that road is more slickrock but it eventually connects to a graded Forest Service road for the journey over the Manti LaSal mountains.  Along the way we passed a road that claimed to be a narrow passageway through the Dark Canyon Wilderness.  We did not have time to explore it on this trip, but it will not go unturned.

The road through the mountains is easy going unless it's wet and offers some spectacular views of the valleys and deserts that surround them.  It completely crosses the mountain range and connects to the road for Dugout Ranch and Beef Basin.  If you are low on supplies, the nearest town is Monticello by way of the Dugout Ranch. Getting there and back to this point will take about a day.

Beef Basin was a favorite home for the Ancient Ones.  Nearly every road in the area leads to or passes by a group of cliff dwellings.  The largest of those dwellings is in Beef Basin Wash.  There are some really neat ones at the end of dead end roads going off the main road between the registration box and Ruin Park.  Ruin Park is named for the many ground based ruins in the area including Farm House Ruin.  An interpretive sign describes a lifestyle based on farming many hundreds of years ago.

We left Beef Basin by way of Ruin Park and Imperial Valley which is the next story about Impassable Hill.

Happy Trails

Well, so much for the notorious Bobby's Hill," I announced over the C.B. radio as I reached its top.  "They graded it."

"Oh really," Caveman radioed back.  "What about this other road back here?"

"It wouldn't be easy getting down it, not to consider coming up.  It looks like an Impassable Hill."

For this trip, we had come in by way of Elephant Hill and Canyonlands Needles District. We left Impassable Hill behind us and wandered into Beef Basin.  There were several roads we were anxious to explore.  In the past, I had made some attempts at plotting them on a topo map but was unsuccessful.  For this trip I had my Trimble ScoutMaster GPS and the Magellan Trailblazer GPS.  Plotting it would not be a problem.

We were searching for more dwellings left by the Ancient Ones 600 years ago.  We plotted our path from Beef Basin to Bull Valley and eventually into Imperial Valley.  The road became more and more faint until it entered a wash and disappeared.  We took a quick GPS reading and learned we were in Cross Canyon, only a few hundred yards from the bottom of the Impassable Hill.  We had gone full circle.  We sent Trail Scout down the wash on his motorcycle to be sure the road was there.  He soon returned with the report that he couldn't get his motorcycle to climb Impassable Hill so we probably weren't going to get up it either.

"We've got a two hour trip if we go back the way we came just to get to an intersection one half mile away," I commented.

"Yeah," Sundance answered.  "Maybe we should see if we can get up this Impassable HIll."

We entered the wash and quickly found where the road exited the wash on the other side and started up Impassable Hill.  In less than a minute, we were parked at the bottom of the hill.  We walked it first, then Caveman made the first attempt.  We figured if his locker got him to the top, we could use his Jeep as a winch anchor point.  No such luck.  The lockers spun out about 150 feet from the top.  He was close enough to get a strap to a tree and hook the winch cable to it.

Sundance was in the middle simply because he didn't have a winch.  His was back in Denver.  We hoped he would make it far enough that Caveman could hook onto him. That didn't work either.  His Bronco became wedged between two rocks and was leaving blue paint on one of them.  

I ran my Blazer's winch cable past him from behind to a tree in front of his truck.  I used a tree saver strap to tie a pulley to that tree, then ran my winch cable through the pulley and back to his truck.  Using that procedure, my Warn 8000 winch was able to pull the Bronco up the hill in front of me.  When the Bronco was within reach of Caveman's winch, he took over.  Getting all three vehicles up that hill took us just under two hours.

"Hey," Caveman smiled.  "We just saved ten minutes going up Impassable Hill instead of going back around.  Must be a shortcut!.

Impassable Hill is in our ebook titled 
Trails of the Ancient Ones.
with maps and directions.

After more than 50,000 miles across seven states over backcountry roads consisting of 14,000 foot peaks, headlight deep water, blinding snow storms, sizzling desert sun, raging sand storms, and across mine fields of rocks and boulders ... I had become very attached to that 95 Blazer known to all of Pass Patrol as "Blaze".  Blaze always seemed to have a personality of its own.  It eagerly tackled everything I pointed it at and impressed everyone who followed it or rode in it.  

The most common remark from passengers, as we zipped down an open highway going to, or coming back from, another of my famous shortcuts, was repeated over and over during the fifteen months Blaze and I roamed the wild, wild west.  "After all you put this vehicle through, and it still rides as smooth as glass!"

Just a few weeks ago, while on a book promotion trip in Kansas City, I took a side trip to Illinois and then took my mother for a ride to her favorite mall sixty miles from home. We only see each other about twice a year so most of our conversation is focused on the family, but right in the middle of discussing my youngest brother's baby daughter, she popped up with, "I can't believe how smoth this truck rides on these gravel roads.  It's quieter than my new Taurus."

Sunshine and Sundance rode with me back and forth while helping me with the Pass Patrol Booth at the Sport Show.  Sunshine later commented, "After riding in that Blazer all week, our truck is like riding in a log wagon."

I appreciated the easy ride Blaze provided, but comfort is just the beginning.  I never did figure out exactly what a "Driver Control System" is, but it works.  Coming back from Kansas City, I was running 65mph ... okay maybe a little over that ... into a 55mph wind with blowing snow and didn't even have to fight the wheel.  I just set the cruise control and waited for the miles to pass.  The wind was so strong between Oakley and Limon, Blaze shifted out of overdrive to maintain my preset speed.  

I've never met Dutchy's brother, but he sure is a fast learner.  Last winter, he was having trouble getting out of his rural driveway due to snow and ice on a steep incline.  Dutchy showed him a newsletter and the fella went out and bought a set of BFG tires.  He never had any more trouble getting out of his driveway.  A few months later, he decided to take my advice again and bought a new Blazer to put those tires on.

I got a call last week from a fella in Colorado Springs.  He started the conversation with, "Okay, I bought a Blazer ... now off the record, what do I have to do to it so it will go where yours goes."

I giggled as I have been known to do from time to time.  "Except for a Warn Winch and lights, BFG tires, and class III trailer hitch, the only difference between my Blazer and yours is 50,000 miles."  He quickly corrected me by pointing out that his was a '96.

I got a call from a fella in Lakewood a few months back.  He said, "I bought a red Blazer just like yours.  If I get a winch and lights, everybody will think I'm you."

"Don't forget the hat," I answered.  "Unless you have the right hat, everyone will think your're Elvis.

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Copyright (c) 2009 Lone Writer, LLC. All rights reserved.

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