Slade, KY (Widowmaker) Trail Report Easter Weekend 2005

[78Buford]

This will be my first trail report on Pirate. It's fairly long, but it'll only take about 30 seconds to post here. I wrote it for my club yesterday.

Here goes:

Slade KY Trail Report March 24-26 2005

Chapter #1: Getting There.

I left the house at 9:15 am Thursday morning. I met Jamie (afastfour) in the green YJ and Pete (Lugie) in a clean red 2wd Ranger at the #100 exit on I-71 South around 10:30 am. Jamie had been there a while and had breakfast before Pete arrived. Lugie’s Ford was in need of motor oil and his hood release had broken earlier that morning. A Ford in need of oil would be a recurring theme over the next few days. Lugie fixed his hood release problem, and gave the Ford the needed transfusion.

Lugie and Jamie commented on my “Mad Max” doors as each side now has four strips of ¾”x 1/8” thick tubing, and three strips of 1” x 1x8” tubing welded onto the stock doors. Far from pretty, but I was hoping it would keep the doors from crushing in so easily. I had to retighten my passenger side rear D70 hub bolts due to them not having loctite on them. We tightened them down, and headed south.

Jamie was concerned that the 4 cylinder YJ would not be able to keep up with traffic on the hills we would soon encounter. I told Jamie that we had left way early, and not to be in a hurry……and that my Ford wasn’t exactly Speed Racer with the 4.10’s, 42’s and 2 bbl carb. Jamie led, I followed, and Pete brought up the rear. We all BS’d on the CB about vehicle mods, the terrain of KY, and I got a kick out of listening to Jamie and Pete begin their weekend of insults towards each other. I was laughing aloud on several occasions. We stopped across from a Pilot truck station, and after we fueled up, we proceeded to have the Ford weighed on the scales. After the kind staff at Pilot advised Pete “You can stop pushing the button,” I discovered that the big piled weighed 7140 lbs, with me in it. Figure an extra hundred pounds of camping gear over “regular club ride weight” but still it was pretty porky. It should be noted that Pete guessed the truck would weigh 7200, before I handed him the slip. On we went.

We stopped for gas a couple more times, and for bladder relief a couple other times. Pete commented that Jamie had to urinate about as often as a woman. Jamie retorted that it was due to medical reasons, and suggested that Pete go have sex with himself, using different terminology. Jamie and I also managed to calculate fuel economy on a couple of occasions. He was getting about 17.5 mpg. During one 95 mile stretch, the Ford consumed 8.5 gallons, making it 11.0 mpg. I was expecting about 8.

We arrived in what I believe was Winchester KY and picked up some more camping grub. Jamie grabbed a pack of fancy hot dogs for nearly $2.00. Pete and I were looking for the cheapest food products we could find, sharing stories of foul items we had consumed in the past. When I met up with Jamie in the line, he commented, “You bought more hot dogs?” I advised Jamie that being the savvy shopper that I was (cheapskate) that I was able to purchase three packs of “Meat Dogs” for 59 cents, which was still cheaper than his single pack of “fancy dogs.” Jamie returned his wieners, and bought some cheapies.

Chapter # 2: Scouting A Couple Trails

We arrived at the trails before we went to the campground. It was approximately 3:30 pm at this time. We did not plan on running any trails on Thursday, but I wanted to see the start of Widowmaker (Granny’s Hatbox) in person before we went to the campground. Pete had advised that it was much better to stop on the way down, rather than setting up camp, and backtracking 15 miles of pavement. We arrived at a relatively remote location that Pete had camped at on many occasions. Pete parked his Ranger and jumped in my Ford. He took us to a steep gravelly-rocky hill that he figured we could climb in 2wd. With 30 lbs of air in the 42’s, we didn’t make it very far. Jamie put his YJ in 4wd and crawled up the hill. Pete assisted in putting in the drive flanges, and we idled up the hill. Pete showed us “Moonshine” off to the right at the top of the hill. Moonshine is a knarly looking muddy, rocky climb that runs up a deep ravine. If one were to back down carelessly, one could go over a hill, seriously wounding one’s rig and or body or worse. Two days later, Jim, Brad, Howard, and I would be the only people to try Moonshine.

The terrain looked a lot different to Pete, as a new power line system had been installed in the past several months, making much of the previously dense forest look relatively barren in comparison. After mild backtracking, we came to the creek where Widowmaker starts. With the tires aired up, the ride was very rough, and I stopped the Ford in the creek, and the three of us walked upstream about 100 yards and noted that the rocks kept getting larger. When we arrived at Granny’s Hatbox, Pete observed the trail to have two distinct different features than the last time he had been there. For one, a large rock on the far left (that looked impressive, but was not something that people ever drove up) had fallen to the bottom, and was now an obstacle on the trail that did not use to be an issue. Also, there was about one foot of water at the bottom of Granny’s Hatbox. Pete stated that he had never observed there to be water in this area……that it was always dry. I remembered Mike Lambert always telling me that Widowmaker was a “dry creek-bed full of large rocks” so Pete’s story made sense. My stomach felt a little antsy with both anxiety and anticipation to see if I could drive my truck over the trail that many experienced wheelers had said would not be a good idea to attempt it. Would I have enough gearing, enough power, enough ground clearance, etc. I pestered Pete quite a bit asking him questions about my chances. Pete’s basic advice: I had a decent chance to make it up Granny’s Hatbox, but there was one section further up the creek-bed that he feared that the truck “simply may not be able to fit through………stock width Jeeps rub both sides of the tires fitting through…..I just don’t know if it will fit through there.” I gave it one more glance before turning my back on it, and we walked back to my truck and Jamie’s Jeep.


Chapter #3: The Campsite, the Hippy Chick, and the Fire

We headed back to Pete’s Ranger & went in search of Middlefork Campground. We made our way to the back of the campground and parked our rigs in the final camping spot. A creek runs very close to the spot, and there is a paved access road on the other side of the creek. We set up our tents. Jamie and Pete wanted Pizza, and we needed wood to start a fire. Jamie cell phone worked in the remote location, and was able to call Brad. Brad was still in the Cincinnati area, a good two and a half hours away. Jamie and Pete took off for Pizza and wood. I wondered if they would start beating the snot out of each other while traveling together. I cracked a Natty Ice, called my wife on Jamie’s phone and told her about the trip down, looking at Widowmaker, Jamie and Pete comically saying vulgar things about each other, etc. I asked her if anyone had replied on the message board about my “Ford vs. Widowmaker” post that I had made only hours before taking off. I told her to check it later, and I’d call back. I quietly played some Hank Jr. on the CD player, had another beer, and organized the interior of the truck. I called my wife back a short while later, and she advised that Jim thought I’d have a chance……running it downhill, and Stroud thought that it may come to a fight if Jim was right, and/or I grenaded my junk all over the trail. I laughed at Stroud’s comments, and told her I was hoping to find out the answer tomorrow……didn’t think I could wait until day #2.

Jamie and Pete arrived back, and appeared to have not scratched each other’s eye out on the way. They had the odd combination of wood and Pizza, and a bizarre tale of a “hippy chick’s breasts and lack of personal hygiene.” Some things are better left unsaid.

This is where the fire debacle began. The three of us placed a few logs on the fire, and used an empty carton of beer and some of the pizza box to get it started. The fire would start, but soon die. So we dumped some gasoline out of one of my cans into the fire. This worked for a while, but it would go out. Gas into an empty water bottle, toss it on the fire, same result. Eventually, the fire was going……kinda…… and we would pour some gas into an empty beer-can, wallow out the top, and toss it onto the fire. The other problem arose when someone missed getting the beer-can-bomb into the fire……it landed close, but not in the fire…..too close to go & try to pick it up, and far enough away to not know if\when it would ignite, and what the results of said ignition would be. Keep this in mind.

Brad arrived later, on the wrong side of the creek. We waved at him & hollered to turn around. When he met up with us, we asked if he knew it was us. He said something to the effect that he thought maybe there was another group of three goofballs playing with fire in the middle of nowhere.

Brad had some nifty pieces of charcoal and lighter fluid which he said was a better idea to start the fire than pouring gas onto it with empty beer cans.

A short while later, the fire was going, and we were all BS-ing about the day’s events, and about the upcoming trail ride. A kind gentleman in his mid 30’s with a four-five year old child on his shoulders arrived at our site, and asked where the restrooms were. Brad advised him that they were at the other end of the campground. Both Brad and I were engaged in conversation with the man for approximately one minute or so.

“WHOOOOSHHHH!!!!” Remember the beer can full of gasoline? I turned in the direction of the fire to find Jamie laughing hysterically, Pete dropping the F-bomb, I was looking at both of them scurry about stomping out the small patches of fire in the gravel (not like the woods were on fire) then Brad calmly advised Jamie “You better put the picnic table out.” This made me start laughing, and Jamie quickly stamped out the couple parts of the picnic table that were burning with gasoline. The kind gentleman (and his family whom had caught up with him) thanked Brad for the restroom advice, and quickly walked away from the four of us.

It was chilly outside, and the combination of the now decent fire, and a couple shots of Jamie’s fifth of Crown Royal kept us warm until we went to sleep a little after midnight.


Chapter # 4: The Group

Yours truly in the ’78 Ford F-250: 460, auto, 42’s, dual lockers, crappy gears, see sig.
Brad in the ’90 Blazer: 6.2 Diesel, auto, 38’s, dual lockers, decent gears.
Jamie in the ’95 YJ: 2.5, 5 speed, 34’s, dual lockers, decent gears.
Jim in the ’74 Bronco: 351, NP 435-4 speed, 36’s beadlocks, dual lockers, great gears.
Cliff in the CJ-7: 4.2 EFI, 3 speed, 33’s, beadlocks, dual lockers, crappy gears.
Howard in the Samurai: small carbed 4 cylinder, 5 speed, 31’s dual lockers, great gears.
Mike H. in the Superman TJ: 4.0, 5 speed, 36’s, dual lockers, long-arm suspension, great gears.

Chapter # 5: The Nature Trail, the Natural Bridge, the Narrows & Picture Rock

The ride started around 10:00 am Friday morning. At this time, Jim and Howard were not with us. I led in the Ford, with Pete riding shotgun, giving direction. We started out on the Nature trail which has a lot of tight switchback turns, some mud, and some decent sized rocks as the trail winds its way back & forth up a small mountain. Due to the well built group, no one had any major problems, but Pete noted that this trail is one of the staples of the Jeep Jamboree, and it can take a group of stockers half a day to run the Nature trail. After short distance, I spied a steep muddy climb that was optional off to the right. Pete said that very few people are able to make it up the hill. I tried crawling up it, and lost traction near the top. I backed up and “kicked in the 2bbl.” The truck did pretty much the same thing as before…..climbed near the top, and spun the tires (not very fast either). I backed down, and realized that the truck is definitely a different animal with the 42’s. No longer can it rely on wheel speed to conquer hills such as this……..with the pathetic crawl ratio less than 20 to 1, 7,140 + Pete’s 200+ pounds was quite a task to drag up the steep hill with any authority. Jamie tried the hill next, and with his foot the floor, he neared to top of the hill & lost traction. He backed up a slight distance, romped it again, and conquered the hill. Good job Jamie. I complimented him on taking his 4cylinder where my 460 would not go. Jamie eventually decided to name the obstacle “Deuce & A Half Hill” based upon his 2.5 liters of engine……not having Rockwell axles. The hill didn’t go anywhere, so Jamie carefully drove back down and he plodded onward.

We came to the Natural Bridge, which is a freakish sight of nature. We were on a shelf trail way up. There is a rock off to the right that literally sits on the edge of a drop that has to be approaching 1000 feet, straight down. Pete strongly warned everyone to stay off the rock, it wasn’t something to fawk with. Brad, of course drove the driver side slightly up onto the rock, and this perturbed Pete. Brad sneered at Pete , and drove on. Several members of the group walked down a narrow path to see the Natural Bridge. I am not overly fond of heights, and advised to adventuresome group “I’ve seen it in pictures……I’ll stay right here.” Superman had a slight slip when walking with his girlfriend down the trail. I wondered aloud, “I hope Pete and Jamie don’t get in a fight down there.” Pete and Jamie arrived back at the top throwing vulgar insults at each other. While it may have been childish, I could not help but laugh at them.

The Narrows consist of large permanently buried rocks, and the trails width is “approximately 3 vehicles wide” for lack of a better term. On either side, there is the fall to your death aspect that I mentioned earlier. It should be noted that unless someone acts completely stupid or irresponsible there is no reason to be afraid of this…….but is still is in the back of one’s mind. While the rock-faces looked impressive, traction was excellent, and our group proceeded to picture rock.

Picture Rock is a large table-top looking rock that is probably 3'-4’ high and about large enough to hold 2 fullsize trucks with a little room to spare. When driving down picture rock, one must pay attention to come off it at the wrong angle or the “roll & fall to your death factor” rears its ugly head again. Cliff, Superman, and Jamie drove down the rock, with Jamie being nervously high centered on his skidplate…..all four wheels off the ground. A few of us pushed him gently with our hands from the rear, and he escaped the situation without any further trouble. Cliff and Superman descended the rock as well, with a couple scary moments, but without major problems. I had no interest in driving down it, I wanted to drive up on it from the steep end.

I drove ahead, turned around and came back to drive up the steep part. Cliff and Superman had tried to climb it before me. Superman changed lines several times, but was able to get up the right side of it (when looking at it as I was). Cliff kept bottoming out, and was within a fraction of an inch from rear yoke and driveshaft damage before he stopped, backed off, and drove around. I approached from the far left/middle region, and had to reverse once, as my front bumper prevented me from climbing it. I got the nose up on the rock, and barley rubbed the driver side rocker panel on the rock……pretty steep to cause that to happen. I allowed the 460 to grunt the big pile up onto the rock. Driving off, I took my time, and even posed a few times for some suspension (well mostly frame) flexing. I got out, and had a couple people take pictures of Pete driving the Ford on the rock. I later asked Pete if he had ever driven a vehicle with a bench seat, and a column shifter. He thought about it for a while, and believed that he had…..at some point. “Dirty Peter” as I called him throughout the weekend, made an obscene gesture with his finger towards Jamie in one of the pictures, and I’ll be looking forward to see how they turned out.

We all turned and headed back the way we had came in. We had to drive through a deep muddy hole that had a pretty nasty climb coming out of it. Going in, we simply dropped the passenger side into it, and gave it some throttle. On the way out, Brad stopped once, reversed, and hit it a little harder, quickly climbing out. I idled though with minimal hassle, Jamie may have went around the hole, and I believe that Superman did as well. Cliff generally tries anything within reason with his CJ on smallish 33’s, and was almost through the muck when his clutch pedal went limp. I gently tugged Cliff out of the hole, and onto relatively dry ground. Cliff quickly diagnosed the problem as a clutch linkage part that had popped out of place. Jamie assisted him, and the two went to work fixing the relatively minor problem.

It was decided that Brad and I would run the entire trail back to the start to pick up Howard and Jim, who were to meet up with us at 1:00 pm. We traveled the mile or so back to the trail head. We met up with Jim, his wife, and two children in the yellow ’74 Bronco, and Howard and his buddy in the Sammy. We discussed what to do the rest of the day, and I quickly piped up that I wanted to run Widowmaker today. Jim gave me an odd look, but did not have a problem with doing it later in the day. Brad surmised that “Roy just wants time to be able to fix the Ford after he breaks it…..so he can get home.” “Yeah, we’ll see about that……fawker,” is what I thought, but I kept my trap shut…..for once.

We headed back through the Nature trail, and on one sharp turn/rocky climb, I banged the front diff (hard) off a rock. Pete was shaking his head laughing at me, saying something to the effect of, “Dumba$$, you put your tires on the big rocks and drive over them……you don’t run your axle straight into them.” Pete was talking smack indeed…….but I had to agree with what he had said. The front diff observed to be unharmed by my ignorance. We met back up with the group, and they had just finished up with Cliff’s Jeep. We headed on out of the Narrows, and started the fairly long scenic/not too challenging drive through the woods to get to Widowmaker.

The sunny skies had darkened up, and this observed to be an ominous sign of what was to about to take place.

Chapter # 6: Widowmaker

We were at the trailhead of Widowmaker. I suggested to Pete that it may be best if we followed someone, preferably Jim in the Bronco because he had ran Widowmaker before. Pete said, “Fawk that dude, you’re driving, I’m spotting, and we’re going to get this pig through Widowmaker…….and it’s going through first!” What the hell, might as well go first and see what happens, I thought. Pete jumped out and began spotting me through the tight section that leads to Granny’s Hatbox. We arrived there a few minutes later, with Brad and Jamie close behind. Cliff was spotting Brad for certain, and possibly Jamie as well. I could not see what was going on with the back end of the group. A few of us approached Granny’s Hatbox, and looked for a decent line. I figured that I’d be best by starting at the far right, and pointing left, going up the rocky mess at an angle. Pete advised me to hit it straight on. He was standing up on top of it, giving direction. I immediately put my front tires in good position to climb, but when I went to proceed, my front bumper hit, and I slid left off of a large rock, causing me to reverse. This happened twice, before I managed to pull the front end up onto the rock pile. After pausing for a moment, and getting the OK from Pete and a couple others who were watching, I gave the 460 about ½ throttle, and the rear 42’s hit the rocks at the same time. I felt it jerk to a halt, and I stayed on the gas. The truck grunted it’s way over the rocks with several items in the bed flopping up, hitting the ratchet straps that holds them in place, then settling back down. One plastic box that holds my large reserve of spare motor oil did a somersault, and landed upside down. Part one of the mission was accomplished.

I pulled ahead several yards, and let the engine run with the auxiliary fan on. The fan is in front of both trans coolers, and with my poor crawl ratio, I knew I’d be stressing the C6 on this technical trail. Brad went next, and tried a few times a little further to the right (when looking at the obstacle head on). He came to a halt each time when his passenger front tire falling into a hole. Brad reversed and tried a slightly different line. Soon after, Brad had the nose up on the rocks on the right side, turned left, and the rear of the Blazer followed. Brad had conquered Granny’s Hatbox as well.

Jamie went next and was having a lot of problems with his spring shackles hitting rocks. I felt that he risked tearing his leaf springs off the frame. Pete said he was more worried about Jamie breaking an axle due to having to “drive jerky” because the lack of super-low gears, and having a manual trans. I spoke up and told Jamie, “If it was me, I wouldn’t keep trying……it’s a long way home.” After thinking about it for a moment, he agreed, and moved out of the way for Jim.

Jim is the only person to have completed Widowmaker (to my knowledge) in this group. I have the tape of when Jim did so in the fall of 2003. At the time, he had his 36” IROKS, but he was without bead locks. Jim noted that the trail looked to be worse, because of the large rock that had fallen on the left side…..it was now part of the obstacle one had to contend with. From what I understand, it used to be easy to drive up to the Hatbox, and it was now more difficult to get the front of one’s rig to the large pile of rocks. Jim tried several different lines, and his rear bumper kept catching on a rock, stopping his forward progress. Jim was able to get his driver side front tire up against the rock, but it was a 3’ climb, and the beefy Bronco could not get up it. Jim suffered some rear quarter panel damage, and may have broken a shock mount on the passenger side front. Jim decided that it wasn’t his day, and backed out of the way.

Howard gave a few attempts in the Sammy, but quit after it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. Cliff gave several attempts at the far right (when looking at the obstacle from the driver seat) and his leaf springs would hit the rock preventing progress. Howard and I stacked some rocks because Cliff was trying hard and with 33’s a little help couldn’t hurt. Cliff (with the 3 speed manual) began to smell burning clutch, and backed away from the obstacle.

Mike in the Superman Jeep with 36’s, 4-1 T-case, long arm suspension, etc observed to be the most well equipped (on paper) rig for rock crawling in this group. I’d say Jim in the Bronco would be a relatively close second. My Ford would likely be way at the bottom of the list. Anyway, Mike drove up to the Hatbox.

Mike tried several lines, and repeatedly had trouble dropping the passenger front tire in a large hole. At one point, the TJ looked like it might roll onto the driver side. I observed Mike’s girlfriend to have a concerned look on her face throughout the ordeal. From what I remember, Mike spent the most time of anyone trying to get up the obstacle, but his perseverance paid off, and he managed to get the TJ up Granny’s Hatbox. The rest of the group decided to go run some other trails and meet up with us in an hour, because as Jim said, “You guys still have a good hour finishing the trail.”

Pete was back in front, helping spot my junk through the rocks. A couple times when I had front & rear tires against rocks at the same time, the 460 was giving everything it had just to move the overweight/undergeared Ford. When we approached the spot where Pete was unsure if it was possible for me to fit through, I climbed the driver side high up onto a rock to allow the passenger side as much room as possible. When the front descended the rock, I felt the lower driver side door bang down on some rocks. “Wonder if the strips of steel did any good?” I thought to myself. The larger problem quickly became apparent. When I tried to go forward, the truck wouldn’t move. All four tires were hitting rocks. I couldn’t back up either. Reverse/drive/apply throttle…..all it did was grunt. “Come on old buddy, we’re almost out of this fawker” I thought to myself. The Ford must have heard this profane prayer. The next time I tried to go forward, at full throttle, the truck jumped up over all four rocks at the same time, and I was out of the wedge. After this point, I let the trans cool for a few minutes and watched Brad and Superman further back the trail. Both appeared to be progressing nicely with Cliff spotting them through the mess. Pete jumped back in the truck, and the rest of the trail was definitely rough, but a spotter wasn’t necessary. When I drove out of the creek bed, having successfully completed the trail, Pete and I checked out the truck. One little “new” dent in the rear of the bedside, and both doors were unscathed. My tailgate had popped loose on one side……off the “ball” that holds one side in place. Pete again noted that this was:
a) The only longbed fullsize truck Pete had observed on Widowmaker, and
b) Definitely the heaviest vehicle he had ever observed on Widowmaker.

Pete assisted and we corrected the tailgate issue, I shook his hand for being a kick arse spotter, and breathed a sigh of relief. I had driver over 300 miles for one trail, and I had completed it. No winching. No pulls, no major damage. It was approximately 4:00 pm on Friday. Plenty left to do, but I felt really good about the conquest.

A few minutes later, Brad and Mike came out of the creek bed. Brad said the he had been careless at the end and managed to get the front D60 stuck on a rock, and he couldn’t get off of it. Mike tugged him backwards, and they were off the trail soon after. All three of us were happy that our rigs had completed the trail. We took off to head to Rattlesnake.

Chapter # 7: Rattlesnake

Rattlesnake is a long hill climb that is entirely in a rutted V-notch. At the top, one has the choice of the super difficult “basically no one makes it” huge muddy rut, and the “less and less people are able to make it” right side which is a churn & burn type affair in the mud. Pete and I were leading, and he was telling me what a biotch the left side was at the top. When we got to the top, I stayed on the throttle and headed left. The muddy rut is huge, and with the width of the Ford, I was riding it high. Pete started hollering, “Holy sheet dude, you’re making it, you’re gonna make it!!!” All of the sudden, the truck was pretty much on the driver side in the ravine. “We didn’t make it,” I advised Pete. Pete was laughing his arse off, and quickly got out, well up through the passenger side window. I started to winch, but the engine stalled. It could have been the carb, but it could have been all of the fuel going to one side of the tank, uncovering the sender. Either way, I was stuck. I was in the truck the entire time, and I heard some things going on, but I could not see them. Jamie was next, and couldn’t get up the right side. I believe that he winched, and began hearing a noise that was a bad driveshaft U-joint. Pete was hollering at Jamie to hook up his winch to pull me out. Jamie was hollering at Pete that he needed to look at his Jeep first. I hollered that if they were going to winch they needed to double it up. Brad hollered that they couldn’t double it up. A lot of hollering was going on. Eventually Jim or someone else suggested that Brad pull me from behind, and this observed to be a good idea. Brad tugged about three times, and it simply felt like the truck “stretched out a little” but it did not really move. I hollered out the window, “Come on Brad, hit it!!” Eventually he did, and the big Chevy pulled the Ford backwards out of the mess.

Back on level ground, I started it up and pointed towards the right side. It should be noted that the transition of the trail is a Y. It was difficult to get the truck back to the right side. The nose was high in the air, my foot was on the floor, and the 42’s were clawing for grip. The truck sat still, spinning all four at a moderate pace (moderate is all it could manage) and after 5-10 seconds, the truck began to inch forward, and pulled itself up the nasty right side. I parked and walked back when I heard Brad’s Diesel screaming. Brad tried many times to make the transition to the right side, and was finally able to do so with the Diesel at full speed. A couple onlookers noted that Brad was able to produce quite a bit more wheel speed than my Ford. Seems funny, it used to be the other way around. Brad’s Blazer clawed it’s way to the top. Cliff couldn’t make it, although he tried hard. Jim couldn’t make it, although he put on a good show with the 351 making powerful sounds through the dual exhaust, Superman didn’t even try. Jim, Mike (Superman), Cliff, and possibly Howard (not sure what Howard did) backed all the way down the hill and took a bypass that may have caused some damage to Superman’s Jeep. One or more of the group had to winch up the bypass, but I’m not sure exactly who it was.

Chapter # 8: Carburetor Hill

I parked at the bottom of Carb, and looked at it with mild interest. Carburetor Hill is a fairly long hill that has massive drop-offs on both sides. It is approximately 25’ wide, and there are trees along the sides. If one became really stupid with the throttle, it would be possible to fall off the sides, but if one is a prudent driver, there isn’t rally anything to worry about. I added two quarts of oil to the dribbling 460, got in started it up, and proceeded to start up carb hill. I made it about half way, and slid left, and reversed. I thought that I put the truck back in low (transmission, not the T-case). I started up carb again, hugging the tree on the bottom right, and pointing at the next set of trees on the left, about halfway up. The truck felt sluggish, and continued slowly up the hill. Halfway up, it felt really slow……felt like it was towing Brad’s Blazer…..but I made it to the top……wondering where my power had went. I grabbed and column shifter, and found that I had the transmission in 2nd gear. Ford C-6’s will start in 2nd gear if it is manually selected. I cringed for the poor old C-6 as I had just driven it up carb hill in second gear……..that poor thing. Anyway, my junk was sitting at the top of the hill, and the sun was going down.

Brad tried many times in the Blazer, seeing air under the front end on several occasions. At one point, Brad’s Blazer nose popped up, and slid quickly to the left. Brad came close to making it a couple times, but backed off the throttle. I believe it was safe to say that Carb Hill had the pucker factor going for Brad. To be honest, I was much more intimidated by the “Natural Bridge walking trail” and getting within a few feet of the edge on foot. Carb didn’t really scare me. To each his own, I guess. Brad gave up on the hill. Jim Locker went next, and was really working the Bronco to get it to the top. It took a few tries, but once he got on it, he had one helluva look of determination on his face as he quickly modulated throttle and the steering of the yellow Bronco. Jim stated that he had never observed there to be so much we sand on the hill, as there was on this date. Jim made it to the top and parked behind my Ford. Howard tried a few times and decided to quit. Cliff and Superman did not try the Hill. Jamie wanted to try, but by the time he had is driveshaft U-Joint replaced, it was dark. It was a pretty cool deal….the only two Ford’s on the trip sitting at the top of Carburetor Hill. Kinda ironic that they had carburetors under the hood…..both Motorcraft 2bbl’s……not fancy smancy EFI. Jim and I drove down the nasty hill with out headlights on, and the group was ready to head off the trail. I led with Lugie giving directions in the dark. As soon as we turned off to the right, I hit a rough spot in the trail, and had my steering at full lock up against a bank. Fearing breaking a steering component, I asked Jamie to winch me from behind, and he did. I remember Brad’s tale of breaking steering at Slade, being out half the night, etc. I definitely didn’t want to take any chances, and appreciated the winch pull from Jamie. After winding around the trails for quite a while, Lugie had us back to civilization.

Chapter # 9: Friday Night

On the way back to the campground, Jamie mentioned a couple times that he needed to stop at a gas station. Pete was then saying over and over, “Hey Roy, Jamie needs to stop at the gas station.” Then Pete repeatedly asked Jamie over the CB if he needed to stop by the gas station. All of us drove approximately 25-30 mph for the multiple mile trek back to the campground. The Ford felt pretty solid, but many had a lot of mud in their tire/wheel assemblies causing serious vibration/death wobble at speeds over 25 mph. We arrived at the gas station, and Pete and I noted that there were a couple goofballs staring at out junk……mine in particular. The one fellow was wearing some sort of Daniel Boone wannabe hat. With the window down, I loudly asked Pete, “I wished I could find a hat like that.” Pete replied even louder, “Yeah, I’ve always wanted one too.” Danny Boone eventually started staring elsewhere. Brad commended about the sexy hat as well.

We arrived back at the campground. Jim left his Bronco parked, and headed back to a hotel with his wife & children in his nice Chevy tow-rig. Cliff and Mike loaded up their rigs and headed back to their hotel as well. Howard and his buddy camped with us. The park ranger stopped by, and Jamie and I approached him. He was a real nice guy, and told us, “Off the record” that while drinking wasn’t allowed at the campground, as long as we were well behaved, and we didn’t leave a bunch of containers in plain sight, he didn’t care. He was a good dude, and he inquired about our club, we discussed the weather for the following day, etc. I eventually walked away when Pete arrived back at camp in his Ranger. (Pete had went on a beer run) and I was picturing Pete jumping out of his truck, screaming, “Dudes, I scored, I got three cases….WAHOOOO!!” Luckily, Pete did no such thing. Jamie continued to BS with the Ranger Guy, and eventually I went and grabbed Brad’s camera and said, “Jamie come over her and look at this picture,” in an attempt to get him away. Burgers and “Meat Dogs” went onto Brad’s cool cooking tripod, and many beers were consumed. We reminisced about the day’s events, and stayed up quite late. Jamie called my house around 10:00 pm, and left a message….something to the effect of, “Hello Mrs. Higgins, we’re all sitting around the campfire getting drunk, Roy is eating raw hamburger, and he made it up Widowmaker. Call us when you get the message.” For those who care, my wife was ill with the flu and sleeping. She received the message around 4:00 am when she awoke and couldn’t get back to sleep. For the record, the hamburger I was eating was over the fire…..just not for very long. We all turned in after well after midnight. I forgot to mention that Friday for breakfast, we enjoyed sausage patties with cheese cooked over the fire on bagels. The sausage I consumed wasn’t fully cooked. Pete’s was better than mine but still not quite done.

Chapter # 10: Saturday Morning, the Shower Incident, Pete’s Problems, and Jamie’s Shovel

Brad, Jamie and I awoke and started the fire. Pete was still asleep in his tent, and we wondered if he was still alive. The campground was equipped with heated restrooms and two heated shower stalls, at the far end of the campground. The previous morning, I had borrowed Jamie’s new “NFL” bar of soap. I had left it wrapped in a shirt back at the campsite. Friday morning, I had been ragging on Jamie about his “NFL cologne” that was included in his travel bag. “What exactly is ‘NFL cologne’ supposed to smell like……a jock strap?” Well Saturday morning, I walked into the bathroom/shower room, and there was a line. Brad was wanting a shower as well, and he and Jamie went into the crapper to kill some time. (They went into separate ones, not the same stall). I was rummaging through my pile of clean clothes, when I head glass breaking. I had dropped my $50 bottle of Polo cologne……and was now standing in the best smelling Sheet-house in Kentucky. I cleaned up my mess. It should be noted that the older dude in the shower was taking FOREVER, and making peculiar grunting sounds. I was getting mildly perturbed at the dude, and simply wanted a shower and to get the hell out of there. Eventually the other shower stall cleared out, and I walked in. “Oh fawk, you don’t have any soap,” I realized. “Hey buddy, you wouldn’t happen to have any extra soap in your stall do you,” I said to the methodical grunting man with no face in the next shower stall. “Ugh, well you can wash this one off and use mine.” I put my hand over the top of the stall, and was handed a used bar of soap in a box. I later found that Brad was mildly appalled by me asking a stranger for used soap, but I didn’t care……better than smelling like stale cigarettes and beer from the night before. Eventually, we cleared the shower house, and I once again noted that it smelled pretty good in there…..it better since it had my nearly new bottle of cologne all over the floor.

Back at camp, Pete was still in his tent. We hollered for him, and finally he came out. “Dude, I don’t know what happened….right after we went to sleep, I had the sheets.” Pete went on to tell that soon after he turned in, he awoke and frantically had to move his bowels. We all began to look around and wonder where Pete had did his business, as he wasn’t talking, and he said that it occurred on multiple occasions throughout the night. About ten minutes later, Jamie yells, “Hey Pete, what the hell is this,” pointing to a place near the campfire that observed to have been scooped out with a shovel. Pete had an ornery look about him as he denied any knowledge of what Jamie was talking about. Seconds later, Jamie was inspecting his shovel that he had at camp, hollering, WTF Pete, there is human feces on my shovel!” Pete Burst out laughing as did the rest of us. Jamie was soon wading into the creek, cleaning his shovel, asking Pete why in the hell he would do his business so close to the campfire and use his shovel for disposal purposes? Pete eventually stopped laughing long enough to inform Jamie, “Dude, that is as far as I could make it…..I barely made it out of my tent.” It should be noted that while all of this was going on, the entire group had arrived at camp, and Jim’s wife and several others were shaking their heads, and laughing, listening to Jamie and Pete argue over Pete’s late night bout with intestinal distress.

Chapter # 11: Slider, Last Chance, Mike & Cliff’s Departure

Saturday, we started around 10:30 am, and ran the Nature Trail again. Pete led us to a muddy, steep, long climb in a ravine known as Slider. Brad drove down a very steep, slippery bypass trail that was mildly rutted, but not rutted to the point to keep one in line in things went awry on the descent. I didn’t want to drive down the hill, and found there was another way to get around to the bottom. I watched Brad hit the hill many times in his Blazer, with the Diesel screaming, and the 38’s churning in the goop. Brad was able to get probably ¾ the way up the hill, and his diffs would drag, halting progress. Jamie took off in search of the other way to get to the bottom, and Howard jumped in with me to get to the bottom…without driving down the greasy hill that Brad did. Brad had observed to be intimidated by carb, and I wasn’t. Brad didn’t observe to be intimidated by the greasy hill, and I didn’t like the idea one bit. To each his own, I guess. Brad eventually stopped trying the hill after many attempts.

When we arrived at the bottom, Jamie gave it one try, and backed out of the way, and parked near Brad’s Blazer. Jamie was hollering to “get on it around the curve.” I idled along, and crawled up the hill, further than Brad had made it, but I couldn’t get much further. I made it maybe 10 feet past where Brad did. Brad had been stopped by dragging diffs. I backed up a couple times and held it to the floor, but it did not look much different to onlookers than my crawling attempt. I could turn the tires, but not fast enough to conquer the hill. I had been stopped by lack of wheel speed. No one else wanted to try Slider. Brad took off driving up the bypass (that I was afraid to drive down). It should be noted that last night, I called Lambert to fill him in on the weekend’s events, and he mentioned that Kevin M. and gotten about half sideways going up the Slider bypass hill, and wanted winched. This is the same hill. Brad made it to the top with minimal problems. Jamie followed with his foot to the floor, and made it to the top. The problem was that Brad was still piddling around trying to get the Blazer through a tight set of trees. Jamie had to stop with his front wheel over the top, and rear tires still on the ledge. If it were me, I would have pushed that Chebby on over the other side of the hill…….well if Jamie tried that in the YJ, he probably would have rolled over backwards down the hill. Brad eventually got out of the way, and Jamie had to back up a little, pop the clutch to get going again, but he managed to crest the greasy hill. Howard and I put on out seatbelts, and I advised Howard that if we tried the hill, and were stopped, he needed to hold on, because the trip down may be rough. The Ford grunted its way up the hill without drama. Brad had bent his driver side front wheel on rocks on the hill, and was busy “hammering the leak out of the tire.” He had it corrected with two different size hammers and many blows.

Cliff had been having pesky problems with his fuel system again, and he and Mike (Superman) needed to be off the trail soon. It was bout 1:00 pm on Saturday at this point.

The next obstacle we came to was called “Last Chance.” It consists of a deeply rutted (on the right side) and two huge rock ledges. Superman tried several times, and I don’t think that he could get over the first ledge…..if he did, it took a while. Superman backed down. Brad tried next, and made it up the first ledge, on the first attempt. It should be noted that there is another uphill greasy, mucky section before one can get to the second ledge. The first ledge was steeper on the left, driver side. The second ledge was steep all the way across, but the way the hill is “designed” the passenger side tire will hit the ledge first. There is also a tree on the far driver side, on top of the ravine that could halt progress………….if anyone actually got that far. Brad made many attempts at the second ledge, but was unable to get to the ledge, the greasy, mucky section stopped the Blazer, even after multiple attempts at backing the rear up to the first ledge, and giving it all she had. On Brad’s last attempt, he blew a bead on the driver side front……the wheel that he had damaged on Slider earlier in the day. After the Hi-Lift came out, it took three tries with starting fluid and air running to the tire from my odd-ball A6 OBA setup to seat the tire. After about 20 minutes with Pete sitting in the Ford, revving it to 1800 rpm or so, me operating the alligator clips to activate the OBA, and Cliff and Brad operating the explosions, all was well with the Blazer.

I tried the hill and took a couple attempts to get over the first ledge, unlike Brad who made it on the first try. I, unlike Brad was able to crawl to the second ledge, but after many tries, and getting my passenger side front to start to climb the rock, it never once “felt like I almost made it.” The hill/obstacle was simply nasty. I backed down after about five attempts.

Cliff and Mike found there way back to pavement with the assistance of Lugie.

I had to drive on ahead because we missed a turn and ran into a couple local guys in a built solid axle Toyota. After talking to them for a few minutes, they mentioned that they had ran Widowmaker about a year ago, and broken axles and steering parts, went home, rebuilt several components of their truck, and successfully ran it this weekend. Someone apparently told them that I had managed to get my pile through it, and they wanted to take a picture of it. They snapped a couple pics of the Ford, and I asked them, “Have you guys ever viewed a longbed truck on Widowmaker?” The driver said, “No, that is why we wanted a picture.” Howard was standing nearby, and I said, “Howard, am I lying about it?” “Nope, I told them that you made it through there,” replied Howard.

Chapter #12: Mooning, The Cave, My Column Shifter, Moonshine

We made our way to stump cave, with the two local guys in the Toyota joining the five of us. The Toyota began to over-heat, and I sprayed down the radiator with my 2 gallon deck sprayer. All was well. We approached a steep, relatively short rutted hill that was optional. Jamie made it up, I followed, the Toyota went next, and then Jamie, Pete, and I formed a quick plan. Pete stood to one side at the top of the hill, Jamie stood at the other side. When Brad was halfway up the hill (crawling it) both Pete and Jamie mooned Brad from opposite sides of the top of the hill. Brad arrived at the top shaking his head.

We arrived at Stump Cave. We were able to play on some large rocks, and park our vehicles in the cave. After watching the Toyota play on the Rock for a while, Jim bought his youngest son Kyle over to my truck and asked if he could ride with me, as he’d been asking for a while. “Sure, strap him in,” I said as Jim buckled him into the passenger side of the Ford. When we went to leave, I started the truck, and could not get it out of Park. I yanked on the column shifter to the point I feared I’d break it. Howard offered help, and Jamie offered tools. I used my Hi-Lift to jack up the cab….I thought maybe the linkage was binding…..actually Howard did. It wasn’t. When I unhooked the column linkage, the transmission linkage moved freely. After a couple minutes, Howard used a punch from Jamie, to start knocking the roll pin out of the column shifter, but it wouldn’t come all the way out. Brad came over and said that he had a roll-pin punch, and after he produced it, out came the column shifter. Apparently all of the flexing from two days worth of hard trails had lowered the cab on the truck….and when I crammed it into Park, the shifter passed a stop that wasn’t supposed to be passed, and it became locked in Park. After the shifter was removed, I had to turn the column by rotating part of it. It worked fine, and I had all gear positions. The roll pin and shifter were chucked into the tool box, and Jamie and Brad’s tools were returned. I’d like to thank Howard for jumping in to help work on the truck, and Jamie and Brad for assisting with tools.

We headed out of the cave in search of the weekend’s last obstacle…..Moonshine. Jim’s young son told me that his mother had commented over the weekend, something to the effect of: “Why would he drive that truck that far from home, drive it like he does, and not have a trailer?” I explained that I: a) did not have a trailer, b) did not have a truck to tow it with, and c) that was a good question.

Jim and his wife have really good kids……I advised both of them that is what I thought on Friday night at the gas station…..and I advised them that I cannot honestly say that about a lot of parents that I meet. I said this at about the time when I was insulting the guy with the funny looking hat…..I’m not sure how old their son Kyle is, but I’d guess about 7 or 8. Sometimes it takes a simple question from a little guy to put it in perspective: Just what in the hell was I doing beating on the truck 300+ miles from home………because it is a Ford, because I built it for the most part, because I can, or because so many told me that I couldn’t run with the big dogs on a certain trail. The answer is probably a little of all of the above………..or simply stupidity on my part. I’ll leave that one open to debate.

We arrived at Moonshine around 3:30-4:00 pm on Saturday. This was to be our last obstacle of the event filled weekend. Brad, Jamie, Pete and I wanted to get back to camp before dark and pack up out junk, and head to a nearby town and find a hotel….according to the park Ranger, it was supposed to be a “washout on Sunday morning” and I did not want to be packing up all of my camping junk in the pouring rain with a 300 mile journey home in the Ford.

The hill looked nasty, as already mentioned. Read Jim’s link about “32 dual locked rigs that were battered and broken” after trying it when it was wet…….and none of them made it. Jim tried and made it to the first rock. His driver side rear tire was rubbing beadlock bolts violently against the rock, and he could not get any further. After four or five tries, Jim backed down. Howard tried next, and couldn’t get as far as Jim did, before backing down. Brad went next, and after many attempts, left the Blazer bouncing on a rock, it was observed that his passenger side front axle wasn’t turning. Brad backed down, and later determined that a D60 stub axle was broken……he showed it to s at the end of the ride……about 45 minutes later. I decided to try Moonshine.

I told Brad before anyone attempted it that I would be surprised I couldn’t get up it, and that he and Jim had a good chance to get up it. I hit the first rock a couple times before getting over it. I hit the second rough section a few times, before getting over it. I hit the last section several times, and did not get over it. At one point, I asked Brad and Lugie to open my hood and add two quarts of oil, because I could hear the lifters ticking………that means it’s low on oil. They could not get the hood open because the truck was flexed in the ravine. After I backed up a ways, they managed to open the hood, and Brad dumped two quarts of cheap oil into the 460. I tried a couple more times, giving it all she had, and the truck was unable to climb the 4’ jutting rock on the driver side, and the 3’ jutting rock on the passenger side. The trail was muddy, wet, sloppy, etc. I had made it farther than everyone else, but that means nothing to me. The bottom line, No on in our group could get up it. Period. I later asked Pete what was stopping me, and he noted, “The size of your truck……you didn’t have a choice of lines….you just had to hit it and hold on……wasn’t much else you could do.”

Chapter # 13: Saturday Night

To be brief (for once………I’ll be brief….I’m getting tired of typing) her is how the rest of the night went:

Back to camp, loaded up our camping stuff, headed out after dark for Winchester, KY.
Jamie, Brad, and I found a Days Inn for $49.00. Pete was off solo in search of a liquor store. This was about 8:45 pm. Staff advised us that the bar was open until 9:00, the restaurant was open until 10:00, and that the waitress could provide beer until 10:00. We ran to our room, dropped our stuff, none of us changed, added deodorant, etc, and ran back to the restaurant. We were advised, “We’re closed.” All of us were kinda upset that we had been lied to. We went to an Applebeas restaurant and I found that it is against the rules to order more than one tall Budweiser at once. Anyway, we all had a few beers, some decent food, reminisced about the weekend, and Pete left at this point. I again complimented him on his spotting skills, Jamie apparently forgave him for using his (Jamie’s) shovel for scooping up his own excrement, and we all said goodbye to “Dirty Peter.”

Jamie, Brad, and I headed back to the hotel, had a few more beers, discussed future off-road modifications, and went to sleep around 1:00 am. Brad had a bed, Jamie slept in a sleeping bag on the floor, and I had the window bed for all of you who were wondering.

Chapter # 14: Sunday Morning, The Ride Home

Sunday morning, we awoke, had breakfast at a Waffle House, and headed home. Jamie stayed in Winchester for a while to develop pictures. Brad and I headed out. I was pimping down the road in the filthy Ford, listening to a “Greatest Hits of the 80’s CD.” Brad was cruising along in his nice new Chevy tow rig. Brad and I went out separate ways in Cincinnati.

Chapter # 15: Three Days & Good Friends

I arrived home around 3:15 pm, Easter Sunday. I fished around in the truck’s ashtray for the remote entry fob I had stuffed in there Thursday morning…..seemed like a long time ago…..a lot had transpired in the past few days. I hit the button, and wearily parked the Ford in the garage……oil still dribbling out of the rear main seal.

Chapter # 16: The Ford

Before I turned off the ignition, I tapped the steering wheel a couple times, glanced around the 27 year old interior, and said, “Thanks old buddy……you made me proud.”

Roy

[PTSchram]

I knew I should have gone down there over Easter!

Is the burned out Pontiac still at the base of the Narrows?

How was the weather? We thought it was WAY too cold to be camping, but man, are the rooms in Slade expensive or what?

Someday, I will find Townsend's cave.

[YJ4RoX]

townsend is a cool ass cave, not too hard to find. Turn right off the black top at the basketball rim. They right at the fork by the crack house. DOwn the hill and townsend is on your right. Easier to show someone than explain it.

i cant wait to get back to slade, its a nice relaxing weekend of wheeling.

FWIW, we took a TJ on 33's and two lockers through widowmaker last year. A zuki on 31's, but he did brake a birf. I wish that creek was about a mile longer. The ledge(granny's hatbox) had 3' of water at the bottom last time we were there. It was anything but dry.

[78Buford]

Yeah, the Pontiac (someone said it was a Sunfire) is still at the bottom of the cliff. Weather was good: high 50's, low 60's. It rained for about 20 minutes when we were on Widowmaker, but that was the only rain during either day of wheeling. I didn't check pricing of the Slade hotels.

The other comment regarding rigs with 33's making it through Widowmaker: I don't doubt that a bit. From what everyone told me, and what I observed, the physical size of my fullsize truck was supposed to be the big problem. I'd definitely say that Widowmaker is a trail that favors smaller rigs.

Buford

[jeepmanjeff]

you all need to come t the poker run the 23rd of april. here is a link...

http://www.cincycore.com

[jeepmanjeff]

you all need to come t the poker run the 23rd of april. here is a link...

http://www.cincycore.com