THE END OF MOAB

4/23/08…7:29 a.m.

Rare experiences rescue our lives from the ordinary. How forgettable life would be—how easily days and weeks of work would blur together into years of normalcy—without something unusual to break it all up. You don’t remember last week’s conference call, but last year’s trip to Paris? The road trip you took in Spain? That hike in the Rockies? Whatever they are, these uncommon events—of various scale and expense—balance out the daily grind of modern life. They make life worth living.

We’re on our way back to California, to the usual patterns of our urban lives. With us we’re taking a revised look at the world and an altered appreciation for our country’s geography. I’m grateful for that. And grateful for the Land Rover Adventure that made it all happen.

TAKING HELL’S REVENGE

4/23/08…9:43 a.m.

Day 2. Hell’s Revenge Trail. From the trailhead we can see massive, bulbous formations of sandstone running above us. This is where we’re headed. This is pure climbing. No loose rock. No “waterfalls.” A lesson in grip.

The rock starts up from the sand. We climb onto them, climbing up from the sand—and suddenly find ourselves on a tightrope. A tightrope of rock. A thin line of rounded slick-rock with 100-foot drop-offs on either side. We drive straight.

We cruise into the trail’s canyons, work our way up and over a handful of sandstone mounds, gasping and holding our breath as the vehicles take 35° inclines, and as the landscape around expands. Even with occasional gusts of wind, one can see all the way to the horizon. To the end of the state, practically.

“How many people never see this?” Burns asks. And it’s true. Not many of us get a chance to see this kind of landscape. We do. Our vehicles let us. We see soft rolling rock hills. We climb them with ease, watching the vista drop down on either side of us. It’s smooth and beautiful—and requires a different kind of technical expertise than the tough, loose rock-crawling we tackled the day before.

We stop on top of a petrified sand dune and look out as the clouds pass over the sun, changing shadows on the landscape. We go down an incline—a 40° grade, easily.

As we make progress, I notice the LR3 engaging its ABS as it descends rock formations. I ask about it. It’s an ingenious use of the system. More so than for emergencies, the ABS allows for superior control if any wheel slippage occurs. That’s the essence of these vehicles. They are in total control. At all times. And they make innovative use of technology to support virtually any off-road challenge.

The sights are truly immense. All of us—the Range Rover, the Range Rover Sport, the LR3s—take time to step outside and look at the landscape. We gawk so much, we get an hour behind schedule. Which is fine. This is what we’re here for. The terrain is varied. Sand parts thrown between mini rock shelves and outcroppings. But it’s all quite a bit smoother and more comfortable than the craggy rocks of the previous day.

We stop at the top of an expansive 360° view of the La Sal Range, the Colorado River and the town of Moab far below us—which looks so small beneath us, it could be a miniature garden.

Another surprise. We’re heading down an extremely steep slope (another grade in the upper-30° range), and I feel the LR3 lift—even beyond its normal raised suspension. I learn that the vehicle is self-adjusting, extending its suspension automatically as it senses that it needs a slight bit more clearance. As Burns puts it, “The vehicle senses that there’s not enough terrain to grip—and it finds it.” These Land Rovers are constantly thinking, and it’s a marvel to consider the amount of engineering that’s gone into their abilities, and the constant computations that go into each movement.

I drive in the Range Rover Sport on the way down. It’s seat envelopes me, holding me tighter than the LR3 did. Like a cockpit. It’s an interesting lesson in character. Each Land Rover has its own particular sense of self. By the time our cars finish the descent, and we’ve made our way back down to the trail entrance, fatigue has set in. And satisfaction. We’re all utterly amazed at the landscape we’ve seen, the nature we witnessed.

BRAVING THE HALF-PIPE

4/22/08… 12:08 p.m.
At high noon, the trail evens out at the top of the shelf. We reach an expanse of sand. We switch the LR3’s Terrain Response setting to Sand mode, which allows for sure-footed acceleration and superior control over the slippery, finely grained trail surface.

We reach another section of medium-sized boulders, lined up in front of us in step-like shelves. It’s intense. Gripping the wheel, I look to our guides for instruction. Burns directs me, finding a good path in the rock—a “line” as he calls it. I ease the vehicle up and over the shelf, setting it down gently, riding up the face of the rock.

This is the amazing part about these vehicles. You look outside; you look up and forward; you see these rocks in front of you—and you can’t believe it’s crossable. You simply cannot believe it. But the Land Rover moves up and over, assuredly, carefully, effortlessly, softly.

And then we’re at one of the most bracing parts of Poison Spider Mesa. A thin, V-shaped cleft in the rock, like the trough of an ocean wave. This is the “Half-Pipe.” There’s only enough room for our vehicle’s wheels to balance on their outer rims. I move forward. Cautiously. Burns stands in front of the LR3; points the way. And with only the outer rims making contact, the Land Rover makes its way through the cleft—makes it way through and up the rock.

The payoff is dazzling. We reach a little bluff of rounded rock that opens into a steep canyon—an archway, through which we can see the Colorado running far below us.

CLIMBING THE WATERFALL

4/22/08…11:21 a.m.

By late morning our caravan reaches “The Waterfall”: a steep, undulating series of slick-rock shelves linked together, one after the other, like some intimidating sandstone ladder. We start climbing. From the front seat of the LR3, you can see only the steep rock face lifting in front of you—and blue sky as the approach angles upward. Our Land Rovers find a good line in the rock, riding the sandstone like living, breathing creatures.

There’s an element of trust in place here. Without seeing exactly what’s moving under our vehicles, you put your trust in the engineering. You put some faith in the machine. It’s nerve-racking at moments. Thrilling at all times.

After making it up “The Waterfall,” I step out to view the shelves we’ve just mastered. It’s astounding that a vehicle can drive such a thing. I quickly find out that it’s not always so easy. A group of Jeeps arrives below us. They have trouble making the approach. I hear the drivers shouting and cursing. Which is unfortunate. In the absence of technique (or technology—whatever it was that the Jeeps were missing), the enjoyment of the landscape vanished.

POISON SPIDER MESA

4/22/08… 9:13 a.m.

We get to the head of the Poison Spider Mesa Trail just as the sun is creeping up over the eastern edge of the La Sal Range. Our Land Rovers are all placed into Rock Crawl mode, which raises the suspension for maximum clearance. The vehicles are put in low gear. And we’re off.

My LR3 floats forward, rolling over the first large boulders in our path, skimming over them. The sound of loose rocks can be heard scrunching under the treads. And then an occasional moment of silence as the tires grip the sandstone.

The rock formations are simply stunning. Exotic, petrified sand dunes lift up next to us like the backs of sleeping mammoths. We move over them, around them, up and down them. In the lead LR3, Burns shifts to a manual gear setting as he declines. He also makes use of a special brake/acceleration technique that places both feet on both pedals simultaneously. Control, I quickly learn, is the essence of good off-road driving. And control is what Land Rovers effortlessly provide.

THE ANAZASI WARRIORS

4/22/08 .. 8:15 a.m.

Our instructors are two former military topography specialists, and the director of this entire adventure program, Robert Burns. Sandy salt-and-pepper hair, Burns could be a distant relative of Chuck Norris. Or maybe a cross between MacGyver, Eric Clapton and Phil Lesh. A man who, as I’ll find out has a profound passion for the natural world, and an almost unfathomable knowledge of Land Rovers.

Each of us—whether familiar with off-road driving or not—is here for the same reason. We share a need for rare experiences, and have a rather large affinity for the landscapes that surround us. We love Land Rovers, too. All of us.

Burns goes over the basics. Hand signals—the gestures that each of the instructors will be giving us as they guide us through the difficult parts of the terrain—are covered. As is our destination. We’re off to the Poison Spider Mesa Trail today. It’s a twelve-mile winding path of petrified sandstone called “slick-rock,” a tightly grained sandstone that our vehicles grip with ease.

We all mount up. Burns takes the lead in an LR3, leading the pack of Land Rovers out the front gates of the resort. After twenty minutes of sweetly winding roads curving alongside the Colorado, we’re suddenly looking up at canyons of red rock. Straight, beautiful canyons on either side of the road. This is “Wall Street”—90 degrees of sheer rock sandstone, rising straight up from the ground.

But these aren’t normal sandstone walls. A closer look (we all pull over and walk up to the rocks) reveals ancient Anasazi petroglyphs—timeworn drawings from A.D. 600–1300, carved into the sides of the antediluvian sandstone. Warriors standing with shields. Families with arms interlocked, standing against the ticking of time.

MOAB RISING

4/21/08 … 2:14 p.m.

I know I’m no longer in Southern California when, flying in to Grand Junction, instead of the usual freeways, I see mesas and rock bluffs pushing out to the distance like massive wooden tabletops. A ridge of rock bluffs rises up to the plane as we land. The bluffs are tall, standing up against the dry desert atmosphere like sentries. The plane touches down. Beyond the tarmac, I can see the desert. It has a glassy sheen to it in the afternoon light.

I’m here for a Land Rover Adventure, a two-day excursion into the canyonlands of Utah, Off-roading in Land Rovers.  It’s a rare chance to experience a part of the country that I’ve never seen before, on the backs of the world’s most competent vehicles.  I’m hoping for a memorable trip.