I had the blessing of growing up along the North Oregon Coast and South Washington Coast. My stepdad had a welder and together we built a dune buggy/ big go cart. It had a Crosley, front axle and rear end! 4speed Jeep trans in front, and a 3 speed trans as the main. I dove it all over the place but mostly on the beach. I was Nine at the time and learned fast about how to drive in the sand! Even the cops would just wave and smile as I was caught driving it in town instead of staying on the beach as my parents had asked me too! My first car that I worked and saved up for, was a Spirit of 76’ Pinto. Then, back off -roading in a 2wd Ford courier ! I dove that all over the Blue Mountains. Vance.
I too grew up Overlanding a Ford Curier 2wd through the Blue Mountain Of eastern Oregon. My first solo experience (or note worthy) is still talk of the town to this day some 26 years later. I was 17 years old, and A fresh license holder. In high school, we had an open campus so those of us with our own cars would go out and explore during lunch hour. We would have an hour or so to go for a run up to the gravel roads and bomb around. On this mid Febuary day, the sun was out and about 70ish degrees. A couple of my buddies talked me into seeing if we could make it to ”Wades Mill”, (about 20 minutes from the school up on the FS boarder). So I was all to eager to show off. When I got to the turn off to the old mill, the mud started getting deep and that little voice in my head said turn around, but I kept on a going. Another half mile down the road and I couldn’t get my truck out of the ruts, so I kept going knowing there was a meadow coming up that I could safely and undestructively turn around.
I got to the meadow and started to turn around but lost traction with my bald tires. I had my buddies jump out to spin the truck as I gave the engine some gas, only to slide off the road. We were stuck in less than a 1/4” of mud. The ground was frozen solid under the little bit of slop, so friction was non existent. We tried jacking up the rear tires and putting wood under them, but I just couldn’t get enough momentum to maintain traction to climb up onto the road. We ended up walking back to the main road (about 3 miles at most) where we caught a quick ride back to school.
The three of us headed into gym class 30 minutes late covered in mud from head to toe. The gym teacher laughed when he saw us and asked what happened. So we told our story. He then escorts Us to the dean.
The dean looked at us with disappointment as I told the story with quick interjections from my so called buddies. Once the story was all told he sat in silence for several minutes with a deep scoul on his face. Then he broke out Laughing. So we laughed too.
once all the laughing was over he called in a few guys with lifted trucks, huge mud terrain tires, you know, the Bad @$$ 4x4s of the 90’s to go on a rescue mission.
We all jump into 3 or 4 lifted trucks and one guy with a Bug wanted to tag along. I told the Bug dude to go back home and change his low rider beetle for his Baja Bug because I was afraid his beetle was going to be inadequate to make it in. He refused And fallowed with the beetle.
I was in the lead rig, and when all got to the turn off the bug guy called over the cab that we had one truck stuck already. A few hundred yards and the second truck got stuck. Then when we just saw the roof of my Courier, the lead truck got stuck. I ended up walking down to my truck to see if I could try my luck getting it unstuck. Nope it was still stuck.
As I was messing around with my truck, here comes that beetle bouncing down the road. He pulls up to me and tells me to jump in. We turn around and head back up the road stopping at the first truck and pick up the driver. We mess around for a few seconds and head up to the second truck to pick up the driver and passenger, mess around once more. Then made our way to the third truck where we got their driver and passenger. Then we drove back to the school in defeat.
The rest of the school day is shot. I walked home that night and hid in my room from my dad’s wrath. My dad came home early from work and came straight to my room. I tried to lie to him about where exactly my truck was. But somehow he knew exactly where my truck was.
I beg and pleaded with him not to drive up there. I told him that there was no way his 1969 Scout 800 was going to make it to me, let alone pull me out. But up we went. We didn’t even make it to the first stuck truck before he thought the Expedition was stupid and parked. We walked in to my truck passing all the rest of the stuck trucks. I remember him shaking his head muttering this is stupid, or this is ridiculous as we passed each truck. We got to mine and he scolded me for being careless and turned around and walked back to his Scout. He told me not to come home until my Truck could come with me.
Just as I got back to my truck for the third time, I heard an engine coming down the road real slow. What seamed like hours a huge 4wd osculating tractor comes into view. It was the owner of the Lead recovery truck. He pulled up next to me and said he got the first two rigs pulled up to safety and wanted me to drive his truck up out of there before he pulled me out. So about 10 minutes later all 4 of the trucks were on the main gravel road heading to town.
I learnt some valuable things that day. First, Josh is a moron and don’t take his advice for nothin, something I made the mistake of doing several times over in the next few years. Second, my lowered 2wd Courier was more capable than those lifted 4x4s. And lastly, Never Ever under any circumstance underestimate the power of the BUG.
