Since we missed Saturday's T3 run, I decided to do a consolation run on Sunday and look for the remnants of tail lights, bumper covers and other similar debris associated with a day on the rocks. I went in my FJC with a friend in a Heep TJ and we were not certain of our destination till we got there. The initial thought was play on Woodpecker where we pre-ran last week and head on to the Coke Ovens.
Well, the first couple of hours went according to plan, we started up Woodpecker, played on the rocks, further lightened my front bumper cover by a few grams and tested the articulation of both vehicles. At an intersection with the Box Canyon road, we headed towards the canyon and Martinez. After cresting the first ridge we made the descent toward the step and encountered 5 quads parked on the trail in the wash near the mine till on the east side of the road.
The quadsters moved two of their rides to allows us through and, looking over as we passed, I noticed an unhappy expression on a face. It prompted me to stop and ask if everything/one was alright, and as I asked, the request for assistance came. It seems the unhappy looking quadster had rolled his conveyance, landing beneath the handle bars and breaking his collarbone:whoops: . No wonder he looked unhappy.
So, first thing we did was employ some of Tool’s (Kevin’s) gift rope to fashion a sling and secure the damaged wing. The group told us they were parked at “the other end” with no further clear definition. We then trundled him into the back of the FJC cum ambulance and demanded a guide to their point of embarkation. Our appointed guide then led us to the step and expressed doubt as to the FJC’s ability to negotiate same. Having done this last week, I had no doubt, but did make the damaged passenger get out so as not to bounce him into further agony. No problem, though Karen
thought I was nuts.
After the step, we had a leisurely ride to the turn off for Martinez. Here we were stopped by 3 more quadsters who warned us of how narrow it became ahead and expressed their doubt as to the ability of the FJC to negotiate the Box Canyon (such doubters!) due to it width. I knew the 80’s had been through, so I responded “well, I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we? This apparent cavalier attitude dismayed both my passengers a bit, but I assured them of my confidence
.
Needless to say we had a lovely drive through the Box, running water, little falls, fun rocks, and all negotiated with the intent of providing as smooth a ride as possible for our injured charge. Karen kept apologizing to this guy, whose name we never did catch, for enjoying herself on this lovely ride while he was in such a state of discomfort. He protested no offense taken and expressed his gratitude for the luxury of a Toyota to extricate him from his predicament.
As we exited the Box Canyon, the landscape flattened out and above us we detected some motion – a red, white and blue helicopter. It circled over us and then faded into the distance. Next thing we see, down the wash, is a plume of dust – the Helicopter was looking for us! It set down; we stopped, creating a traffic jam of Jeeps, quads and the stray Trailblazer on the wash/road. We discharged our charge, gave him a bottle of water, and turned him over to a pretty brunette in a fight suit.
We thought, OK, where now? But as it turns out, our adventure was not over. Our injured passenger was apparently not as injured as some other unfortunate soul reportedly unconscious on Four Peaks. So the Life Flight crew sent him BACK to us with a roll of tape to better secure his arm. (Well, he didn’t want to go with them anyway, since they wouldn’t let him smoke!)
We then took him to his place of origin, which I guess was Price from the map, and turned him over to a waiting friend. So, it’s now like 1:00 and we’re hungry, but not done wheeling. So back the way we came, with a picnic lunch beside a babbling brook in the shade of the Box Canyon, out the way we came with some more Woodpecker rocking and the end to an eventful day, home in time for the ball game.
Well, the first couple of hours went according to plan, we started up Woodpecker, played on the rocks, further lightened my front bumper cover by a few grams and tested the articulation of both vehicles. At an intersection with the Box Canyon road, we headed towards the canyon and Martinez. After cresting the first ridge we made the descent toward the step and encountered 5 quads parked on the trail in the wash near the mine till on the east side of the road.
The quadsters moved two of their rides to allows us through and, looking over as we passed, I noticed an unhappy expression on a face. It prompted me to stop and ask if everything/one was alright, and as I asked, the request for assistance came. It seems the unhappy looking quadster had rolled his conveyance, landing beneath the handle bars and breaking his collarbone:whoops: . No wonder he looked unhappy.
So, first thing we did was employ some of Tool’s (Kevin’s) gift rope to fashion a sling and secure the damaged wing. The group told us they were parked at “the other end” with no further clear definition. We then trundled him into the back of the FJC cum ambulance and demanded a guide to their point of embarkation. Our appointed guide then led us to the step and expressed doubt as to the FJC’s ability to negotiate same. Having done this last week, I had no doubt, but did make the damaged passenger get out so as not to bounce him into further agony. No problem, though Karen
thought I was nuts.After the step, we had a leisurely ride to the turn off for Martinez. Here we were stopped by 3 more quadsters who warned us of how narrow it became ahead and expressed their doubt as to the ability of the FJC to negotiate the Box Canyon (such doubters!) due to it width. I knew the 80’s had been through, so I responded “well, I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we? This apparent cavalier attitude dismayed both my passengers a bit, but I assured them of my confidence
.Needless to say we had a lovely drive through the Box, running water, little falls, fun rocks, and all negotiated with the intent of providing as smooth a ride as possible for our injured charge. Karen kept apologizing to this guy, whose name we never did catch, for enjoying herself on this lovely ride while he was in such a state of discomfort. He protested no offense taken and expressed his gratitude for the luxury of a Toyota to extricate him from his predicament.
As we exited the Box Canyon, the landscape flattened out and above us we detected some motion – a red, white and blue helicopter. It circled over us and then faded into the distance. Next thing we see, down the wash, is a plume of dust – the Helicopter was looking for us! It set down; we stopped, creating a traffic jam of Jeeps, quads and the stray Trailblazer on the wash/road. We discharged our charge, gave him a bottle of water, and turned him over to a pretty brunette in a fight suit.
We thought, OK, where now? But as it turns out, our adventure was not over. Our injured passenger was apparently not as injured as some other unfortunate soul reportedly unconscious on Four Peaks. So the Life Flight crew sent him BACK to us with a roll of tape to better secure his arm. (Well, he didn’t want to go with them anyway, since they wouldn’t let him smoke!)
We then took him to his place of origin, which I guess was Price from the map, and turned him over to a waiting friend. So, it’s now like 1:00 and we’re hungry, but not done wheeling. So back the way we came, with a picnic lunch beside a babbling brook in the shade of the Box Canyon, out the way we came with some more Woodpecker rocking and the end to an eventful day, home in time for the ball game.
