When you’re out on the road, it’s important to keep close tabs on the weather. And I do. The weather report said I should expect extended periods of light rain during my stay in the White Wash Sand Dunes.
Light rain? No problem.
Fletcher and I did some work while we waited for the rain to subside, when suddenly I looked out the window and saw this…
And it didn’t stop. For like, more than 20 hours…
What I didn’t know was that rain on desert clay becomes a super-slick ooze that holds no shape, provides no traction, and sucks everything around it into its muddy soul.
I mean, these were my footprints as I walked around the campsite to asses the situation. It was like walking on slushy ice. As soon as I would pick my foot up, the slushy hole filled with gooey water! How is that even possible?
“You’ve got this,” I told myself. “Plan your line. Try it without the trailer. Walk it. Commit and trust.”
I connected the trailer (with now partially submerged tires) to the truck. The back of the Canyon sank down into the muddy bog. I took a deep breath, grabbed a handful of trail mix (I hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast…) and gave the gas moderate pressure.
Let’s all pause for a moment, bow our heads, and thank the 27th Jeep Jamboree. For it was there that I was educated in all things off road.
I can’t tell you exactly what happened next (I think I left my body), but these are some of the ruts we left at the campsite…
I have no idea what those clay-caked street tires were grabbing onto, but somehow that mighty little 4-cylinder diesel slipped, slid, and pulled us onto the BLM 147 road. Little did we know, the worst was yet to come.
We still had more than 10 miles of washed out clay to cover. Hairpin turns. Steep grades. And deep pools of water. The photos simply don’t do it justice. That mud and water was at least 10 inches deep…
By the time it was all said and done, our 11 foot tall trailer had mud spray covering the skylight on the roof. Needless to say, the undercarriage of both vehicles had been covered by several inches of that oh-so-lovely desert clay as well.
Words can’t express the elation of seeing I-70 come into view through the mud-spattered windshield. I frantically grabbed this shot — you can’t quite make out the highway, but believe me. IT WAS THERE!
Nothing was gonna stop us now!
After this “ultimate” (and unintended) off-road adventure, Fletcher and I decided it was time to refuel. We still had several hours of driving to get to Provo.
A little late-night laundry to get the mud out…
…and Fletcher was ready to call it a day.
Sleep tight, little guy. I’m gonna write GMC the most glowing online review they’ve ever seen…
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