Thought I'd share a few tales from the last couple of months. Anyone in the SoCal area familiar with Azusa Canyon will know the area I'm talking about - there's nothing really all that taxing there in terms of terrain (it's largely a flood plain), but they do get some pretty good mudpits in the rainy season. Since it's local to me, I've been using it as a testing ground for things like new tires, suspension bushings, etc. before heading out into the wilds. Thought I'd share a few; perhaps some folks can relate.
(Please note: I'm not relating these anecdotes to try to give the impression that I'm somehow the world's greatest wheelman; I've got stuck plenty of times and own up to it. I just found these somehow amusing or typical of the things one runs into around here.)
While considering a run through one of the mudpits, I decided to keep an eye on it until someone else went through in order to get a handle on how difficult it might be for me. Within a couple of minutes, four guys in a four-door Montero came along, windows down, and gunned it into the puddle. Hard. I'll give them credit for making it through (just barely), but for the next two hours that I was in there they sure seemed to be spending a lot of time de-mudding the interior. Note: the back window was brown on the inside.
Two guys and a girl in a completely stock Ford Explorer decide to drive down a dry riverbed. Never mind that the riverbed has boulders ranging from about the size of a watermelon on up to a couple or three feet high; they head down it and end up crossaxled. Myself, some guy in a Samurai, and another guy in a Toyota pickup are watching the whole thing and debating how to pull them out when one of the guys comes up to us, points at the Explorer, and asks, 'how do I turn the winch on?'
A TJ driven by two of Southern California's least-attentive, the front diff high-centered on a rock in the middle of light sand that would've been as plain as day had they been watching what was coming up ahead. "Can you help us get off this? We've been stuck here for half-an-hour." I get out and look; they're stuck, but no real damage. Getting back up from under it, I notice something in the TJ: "Sure. See that lever next to the shifter? Put it in 4LO, then use reverse to get off the rock." They do, and with a bit of wheelspin and introduction to throttle modulation, back off of it. "Hey, thanks, what does that lever do?" I explain. "THANKS, MAN! WE'RE TRAIL RATED, DUDE!" the passenger shouts at me. At this point, they promptly exited the OHV area. (And no, this is by no means a dig at TJ owners - I just call them as I see them.)
Perhaps most precious of all was the H2 that was halfway up to its doorhandles in mud and being dragged out by a Dodge Ram. The H2 owner had a look on his face that suggested he felt like he'd just flushed $60,000 down the toilet and was on the verge of having people laugh at him for it.
(Please note: I'm not relating these anecdotes to try to give the impression that I'm somehow the world's greatest wheelman; I've got stuck plenty of times and own up to it. I just found these somehow amusing or typical of the things one runs into around here.)
While considering a run through one of the mudpits, I decided to keep an eye on it until someone else went through in order to get a handle on how difficult it might be for me. Within a couple of minutes, four guys in a four-door Montero came along, windows down, and gunned it into the puddle. Hard. I'll give them credit for making it through (just barely), but for the next two hours that I was in there they sure seemed to be spending a lot of time de-mudding the interior. Note: the back window was brown on the inside.
Two guys and a girl in a completely stock Ford Explorer decide to drive down a dry riverbed. Never mind that the riverbed has boulders ranging from about the size of a watermelon on up to a couple or three feet high; they head down it and end up crossaxled. Myself, some guy in a Samurai, and another guy in a Toyota pickup are watching the whole thing and debating how to pull them out when one of the guys comes up to us, points at the Explorer, and asks, 'how do I turn the winch on?'
A TJ driven by two of Southern California's least-attentive, the front diff high-centered on a rock in the middle of light sand that would've been as plain as day had they been watching what was coming up ahead. "Can you help us get off this? We've been stuck here for half-an-hour." I get out and look; they're stuck, but no real damage. Getting back up from under it, I notice something in the TJ: "Sure. See that lever next to the shifter? Put it in 4LO, then use reverse to get off the rock." They do, and with a bit of wheelspin and introduction to throttle modulation, back off of it. "Hey, thanks, what does that lever do?" I explain. "THANKS, MAN! WE'RE TRAIL RATED, DUDE!" the passenger shouts at me. At this point, they promptly exited the OHV area. (And no, this is by no means a dig at TJ owners - I just call them as I see them.)
Perhaps most precious of all was the H2 that was halfway up to its doorhandles in mud and being dragged out by a Dodge Ram. The H2 owner had a look on his face that suggested he felt like he'd just flushed $60,000 down the toilet and was on the verge of having people laugh at him for it.
