Day Eight
We were now pros at the routine. Breakfast was something you ate while greasing U-joints or packing the truck for the day. Gas station food became the staple, and McDonald's was health food. We all met in front of the hotel with trail leader Sherman Mathieu after completing our daily morning rituals. The skies were for the most part clear, but dark clouds lingered in the direction of the trail.
The trail began with a smattering of large rocks that required slow, low-geared crawling. This is the kind of wheeling we were accustomed to, and most of us entertained the thought that this wouldn't be too bad. However, several tight sections made fullsize truck navigation almost impossible, and climbing the 5-foot-tall boulders that the Jeeps were able to steer around was the only option. Even with six spotters yelling at Cole, he couldn't avoid major body damage. The first 100 yards of the trail took several hours. It was enough time for some at the back of the lineup to rethink if they really wanted to do this trail badly enough to ugly their vehicles. Trenton, Brian, Drew, and Steve wisely turned tail and came around to the top of the trail. They walked down to where we were only to confirm that we had completed about one sixteenth of the trail. By this time Greg had broken a front axle U-joint without a spare and was headed out the way he came in. The trail leader had broken some steering components and had to catch a ride back into town for spares. We continued on as rain clouds approached.
By mid-afternoon Cole had smashed the driver-side fuel tank enough that the fuel pick-up no longer functioned (but still no leak). The lower portion of the fenders, doors, cab, and bed resembled a wrinkly prune. Cole had to enter and exit the truck like the Duke boys. Tom's Bronco wasn't in much better shape. Dan and Rob trudged on with little faltering or body damage while John and Sam goofed around with different lines in the back of the pack. It was obvious we weren't getting out of here until late in the night. Fortunately the clouds passed without a trace of rain.
The final 200 yards of the trail involved an uphill climb and a series of small switchbacks and ledges. Most of us just wanted to get out so we pulled the winch cable after giving one or two attempts at each section. Cole had given up trying to save the GMC's body; it could only get straighter now. Tom drove as though he had the same philosophy. We made it out without any further breakage.
In Carbondale, we stopped at a defunct gas station to let the drivers regroup. The Toyotas didn't fare too well compared to the V-8-powered 4x4s over the steep hills. We also stocked up on fresh air and gave Drew a chance to reconnect his sway bar, which would have been a big help on the road he just traveled. | 
Die Trying was nasty--that's all there is to it. Every time you surmounted an obstacle something worse appeared in front of you. The trail is only 2 ½ miles long, but it took our group of a dozen vehicles hours to complete the first 100 yards, which was mostly medium-sized boulders strewn across a wash. Rob demonstrated the finesse and driving ability that he had shown the whole week. | 
John put some miles on his Ramsey winch during the week, but this was the most dramatic situation he put the flatfender in. The ultra-short wheelbase helped make tight turns, but some of the steep inclines he had to climb on this trail were longer than his wheelbase. |