The Calling
You know that feeling you get when you try something entirely new? Something you have never done before, but yet it is something you feel you were destined to accomplish? This trip has really left a mark on my soul, but it all started before the trip even began. Now, I think my life has changed forever.
When my new humans first drove me around, I felt that I was getting back into the swing of things. You know - carrying out my duty, filling my role as a cog in the larger machine. I had done this before, these were just a new set of squishy creatures that needed to be carried from one place to another for no good reason. I had accepted my lot in life, and carried out my duties.
But then they started talking about a big trip - one where they would need me, specifically, to perform well. They rubbed me gently, talked to me as if I were their child. One of them pretended I was a space ship and initiated a countdown every time he started my heart-engine. They ripped out my back seats so they could fill me with even more gear and stashed some extra fuel and jumper cables. I became concerned. Were these new humans going to drive me off a cliff? Did they even know what sort of vehicle I was?
I carried this strange menagerie of cargo south for many miles through burnt forests and empty plains. It took two days because the humans wanted to go slowly and stop, even though I had enough fuel, sometimes for hours at a time. Still, I could feel their excitement growing as we neared the destination. We were in a big crack in the earth - or rather at the start of it - and the humans seemed thrilled to be spending several days there climbing around on the rocks in the hot sun or staring at tiny animals in the grass.
Clay
My humans needed a place to lay down when the sky gets dark, so they took me up a dirt road to an old ranch near the canyon. Some parts of the road were bumpy with holes and there was a steep cliff on one side. My favorite part, of course, was a steep section halfway through - my human engaged 4x4 mode and navigated me up past potholes and sand traps while I pushed hard with all of my legs to reach the summit. I cannot adequately express the feeling of accomplishment that washed over me that day - it was my first trial, and I had carried my humans to their destination where other vehicles would have choked. The strange human patted me and cheered while the sane human smiled and laughed.
It got really cold during the dark sky time, so much so that little white flakes started falling on me from the sky. My humans, unaware of the threat in their pop-up fabric nest, lay there doing nothing the whole while. When they finally emerged and the bright headlight returned to the sky, we saw that the dirt road had turned into a clay road. The little white things blended with the sand to create sticky mud that would not get off my legs unless my human scraped it off.
Lesser vehicles gave up going up the path; the risk of losing control and running off the edge was too high. But I knew when to accelerate to maintain some semblance of control and we swerved back on course. I tried to ease up a seemingly small hill just before the road, but the ditch proved too welcoming and in I went. Fortunately my humans had prepared and brought traction pads to get me out. Clay flew in every direction, and after an hour long struggle my legs spun free of the horrible goo. I was still badly covered in it, but we were back on the pavement. My humans posed next to me at the end of the clay road - this was the toughest thing I had done in my life, and I was just as proud as they seemed to be.
Later I carried my humans through the big crack in the earth so they could climb around as they do. I didn't get to see the inside of the crack, but honestly I needed the rest. There were bigger challenges ahead.
Sand
The sun dried the clay onto my chassis. My human thought it would just fall off once it had dried, but even with all the force they could muster they could not easily remove it. It added a few pounds, but really that wasn't so bad compared to the gallons of water and crates of canned "food" they had put in my trunk. Besides, it made me look like a real off-roader, and I got some compliments from other campers for "being used the heck out of."
But we were only getting warmed up - and things would get a whole lot hotter. My humans drove me past several big scary signs warning of deep sand and potentially impassable conditions. We were going over a plateau they like to call Vermillion Cliffs, and at close to 6000 feet elevation, it would bring its own challenges to go with its beauty. The great headlight in the sky kept everything balmy while it was turned on but things got really cold when it ran out of juice. Reaching the best spots meant I needed to fly over several miles of deep sand on twisty paths, occasionally broken up by a large block of slickrock. Very few others on the road meant we could move quickly but I still felt my 2.4L heart-engine pumping hard to get through. My humans took the air out of my legs to keep me from sinking, thankfully, and I got them to several key destinations so they could crawl over more funny rocks.
I drove my humans all over the plateau over the next few days. The funny rocks changed color and shape as we went, but the sand remained deep and difficult. I could feel the weight in my belly getting lighter as the humans ate and drank the provisions they had stocked up, but my own fuel was getting thin as well. Sand choked up my air filter and covered my insides. Wind blew fine dust in every direction, forcing my humans to cover their faces or hide inside of me. While I enjoyed the challenge, I knew I would need to get back to civilization soon if I wanted to stay in good working condition.
My last trip through the sand was the toughest, but I had a friend this time. A fellow Jeep named "Rubi" had gotten stuck ahead of me, and once they were freed by a couple of helpful passersby, we collaborated to reach a big wavy rock at the summit of a giant mountain of sand. The humans loved this, and I felt a rush of transmission fluid-induced joy carrying them through the toughest parts of the plateau. When it was all over, my humans refilled my legs with air and chatted with their new friends while they did the same to their Jeep. I never thought I could bond so well with another vehicle, but going through rough terrain together seems to do it. I hope I get to careen over more sand with Rubi some day.
Stone
A particularly strange and unpopular place exists near Lake Powell. It's not unpopular because it is strange, or because it is not beautiful, but rather because people don't really know about it and it's tricky to reach. That, of course, meant that my humans wanted to go.
This was again a new experience for me. Rather than going fast to avoid getting stuck, the challenge became going slowly to avoid hitting my belly on pointy things. We crawled up to the top of the plateau called Alstom Point so that my humans could set up their cloth shelters overlooking the lake below, but they had not anticipated nature's power at the top. Constant gusts and a hard surface meant my humans could not tether the shelter down well enough, and even if they tried (which they did - silly creatures) it would bend the shelter and push it over. I stood strong, however, and the funny-looking human eventually gave up and suggested they sleep inside of me instead. The storm hit just after the great headlight turned off, and I held off the freezing wind and rain through the night while the humans balled up and groaned softly in my seats.
This particular trip seemed to inspire my humans for more rock-viewing, so they took me back towards what they called Grand Staircase-Escalante. Why do humans come up with such strange and long names for big rocks? In any case, they were hunting slot canyons, and I took them to some of the best.
I dropped them off near Bull Valley Gorge after a somewhat rough section of road so they could crawl around some more. This was the tightest crack in a rock I had ever seen them go into, and it wasn't particularly easy for their short little legs to climb up and down the crevasses. They found the remains of an old truck that had been driven off the side of the canyon above them and gotten stuck in the crack, never to get its oil changed again. I hope it didn't inspire my humans to create their own art - for now, I will trust them.
Water
The humans wanted to go to the popular Antelope Canyon, but I couldn't take them there myself - there's a rather large river in the way. Instead, I let them off and in the care of a thing called a "kayak," which apparently can move over water, but the humans have to wave their arms around for it to go. They must not have thought it through all the way because on their way back the wind picked up, blew against them, and completely prevented any forward progress. They were saved by some friendly fishermen who had a heart-engine on their kayak and was able to drag them back to me, but I think they learned their lesson - don't leave me behind in favor of a flimsy piece of plastic!
There is another rock crack the humans enjoyed, this one carved from millennia of running water. Though I could have used the bath, getting there meant the humans needed to crawl down a steep ravine, and that's more their thing than it is mine. I waited patiently for them to get back. Besides, I still had more dirtiness to accumulate.
Salt
By now the humans had gotten a lot of the clay off of my chassis by picking at it, bit by bit, with the help of whatever leftover water they had sitting around. The silly one had "forgotten" that I was silver, and acted surprised when my true colors showed. I wasn't fooled.
As I took our much lighter load back north, the humans decided to stop at one last playground for me. They took me out on a big, empty field - but it was all white. "Oh no," I thought, "I remember what happened the last time white stuff fell from the sky." But this stuff was different - rather than being cold, it was really hot! It stuck to my legs and chassis, though, leaving me with a white trim. It felt itchy, and I hoped I'd be able to get it off quickly. My humans realized it was uncomfortable and quickly took me to a car wash to round out the adventure.
The Horizon
Now that I'm back in my parking spot - safe from the elements, squeaky clean, and with my oil changed and legs rotated - I've had some time to think back on this adventure. I've realized there are different kinds of vehicles, those that go adventuring and those that do not. I've learned a lot about myself and my dreams, and I can say that I am one of those vehicles that wants adventure. Maybe I'll see you out there braving the elements too - I certainly hope so.
-Silverback the Renegade
Twitter: SilverbackTheRenegade