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ADVENTURE ARIZONA

WORDS BY SEAN MC GARVIE
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVE DAHM

After three hours of great laughs of the day and a few bottles of the devil, we thought we’d better get the tents up and the bedding down. It was now 22 degrees, and blowing a constant 10 knots from the north, according to my trusty handheld wind and temp meter from Big Five. The skies were still clear, but we were all too aware of the oncoming storm that was due to arrive either late that night or early the next morning. At 5500 ft., that meant snow, and at least six to eight inches’ worth.

As the sun rose in the east, we all seemed to come to life at the same moment, and with the same thoughts… “Oh, my head!”... “Damn, it’s cold!” We quickly dressed and refueled the still smoldering ashes to get some warmth back into our blood. The impending storm had not arrived, but the wall of clouds on the horizon was a sure sign that she was still coming.

After breakfast, we pulled out the GPS to try to determine first how close we were to the canyon, and second where we were at all! According to the little black computer we were still six miles from the river as a crow flies, and forty eight miles from Route 66. Knowing of the long day ahead, the approaching storm, and the relatively short distance to the river, we decided to pack up camp and continue to our destination. We weren’t giving up yet!

Once the camp was packed, we buckled in to head out, only to find that one of the Rhinos refused to start. Apparently, running the massive overhead lights the night before with the engine off while trying to set up the tents in the bitterly cold wind wasn’t the greatest idea; although, I do wish we had a video of that segment! After the brief “friendly” discussion over who was supposed to bring the jumper cables, we had to get creative. Removing one battery and holding it upside down onto the top of the other sounded like a good idea at the time. However, in practice, it didn’t work out so well. Fortunately, the Rhino in question happened to have a winch on the front with huge leads that were easy to get to.

Not before we moved one foot in the direction of the great canyon did the adrenaline spike in all of us, as we pinned the throttle and the race continued from the evening before as if it had never stopped. Thankfully, my reaction time and location allowed me to gain the lead and stay out of the blinding dust that would quickly stop or progress in its tracks.

“All I saw was his taillights about twelve feet up and rolling to the left!”

Yeah, I’m glad I got the lead. It seemed my buddy / photographer decided he could take the lead if he could only get around the outside in the next corner… He failed to see the rock the size of the desk that I’m sitting at to type this, and went for the ride of his life! Not only did he destroy his rim and tire, crack his A-arm, and badly bruise his ego, but he managed to actually oblong his steering wheel!

Battered, but not broken, we put on the spare, laughing about the huge rock that he somehow split in two, and then realized that his Rhino wasn’t running… Remember the lights from the night before? Same Rhino. Again, pulling the battery from another Rhino, we were able to get it running, only to notice that the impending storm was right on top of us. It was getting late in the morning, the storm was on us, and we had no idea where we were or how far we were from the Rim. With no remaining spare, fuel running low, a storm clamping down, and the real world calling us to come back to reality, it was time to admit defeat and turn for home.

Making our way out of the bush and back to the main dirt road was thankfully easier than anticipated. Only two hours had passed before making it back to Buck and Doe Road to continue our journey roughly thirty miles up the main dirt road heading back to Peach Springs.

Once in Peach Springs, we headed north for a few miles to the Grand Canyon Caverns. Arriving at the caverns around lunch time, we were delighted to find that they boasted about their world famous cheese burgers. They weren’t lying! Never before had I not been able to finish the biggest of burgers. Twice this weekend we were all defeated, as none of us could muster the strength to finish them, even though we desperately wanted to. While enjoying our burgers and beer, we kept hearing the loudspeaker in the background announcing tour starting times for the caverns. This piqued our interests, so twelve dollars and twenty one stories down; we were smack dab in the center of a cavern that could hold four regulation football fields. Making our way along the path, looking at all of nature’s subterranean beauties, we passed a giant, prehistoric sloth. It looked like a giant grizzly bear with a tail. Apparently, it, along with a few others, found down there, wandered in and could find their way out. Above the sloth’s head on the wall you could plainly see her claw marks where she tried to climb out.

Once back on the surface, it was time to say goodbye to the cook, waitress, and others who made us feel like family in only an hour, and prepare for our long journey home. But once again, before we could leave, the spare tire on the one Rhino was flat. It was a quarter after one in the afternoon with 6 hours of drive time, 170 miles to cover, and a flat spare. After a few minutes of looking the tire over to see the cause, we determined that it was merely a loose valve stem, an easy fix. Except we couldn’t find a valve core remover to save our lives, so we pumped up the tire as hard as possible, chewed a piece of Bubblicious, stole a metal valve stem cover from another Rhino, stuck the gum in there and screwed it on.

The ride home was uneventful, staying within eye-shot of ol’ Route 66 in case we needed to break out the gum and find some air. Along the way, we passed two-story Victorian houses built in a time gone by, with barns and cattle fences that have stood the test of time and looked set to do so for some time to come.

We finally rolled in to Lake Havasu around eight o’clock that evening, cold, hungry, and exhausted. Thank God I only still had a four-hour drive back to So Cal!

Departing my friend’s house for the long, warm quiet drive home, I simply looked at him and said, “Thanks… When are we going to finish this one?”