March 2, 2016
On a beautiful Wednesday in southern Utah Bill and I decided to explore nearby Peekaboo Canyon but instead one wrong turn found us stuck in a sand dune.
Only nine miles (14 km) north of Kanab, my current backyard, a small sign indicates the turn for Peekaboo Canyon and there’s a parking lot for those who trailered in OHVs (Off Highway Vehicles). There’s also a 2.86 mile (4.6 km) primitive road to the trail head. We left home about 10am not worried about an early start as it takes high noon for the sun to reach into most slot canyons.
Off we went down the sandy one-way track, Bill behind the wheel, me contentedly marveling at the view and taking photos through the buggy windshield as we bounced along. (Reason for fuzzy photos.)
A little more narrow in some places that added graphics to the truck’s already dull paint. Although Bill says it’s due for a paint job he’d probably be relieved after the first new scratch(es).
The sand got deeper, lacking a firm base below, we were dune hoping in the Tundra 4×4 and shortly after a fork in the trail Bill realized we’d taken the wrong turn from the start and were bouncing along on an OHV trail, with no place to turn around.
Over much time and use this ‘track’ sinks into the soft sand dunes creating higher banks on each side. (Take note of this view for later.) There is little vegetation with groves of Ponderosa Pine in some of the dips. One of which we finally found firm enough ground to turn around.
Remember I said in “dips”, those are low spots, below a hill of sand. Not easy to get momentum for the climb even with 4×4. (Note this sandy hill for later.)
We were climbing. Then there was smoke. Stinky gray smoke, coming from under the truck. And, no more clutch. There we sat, stuck in a sand dune with no go.
Bill keeps his cool, more than passing the “flat tire test”. Much to learn from this as I tend to get frustrated and stressed out, not healthy. But his calm kept me calm. I mean really, I had 3bars on the phone and Bill has AAA. So he calls the local tow service, tells them where we are, and then walks maybe 1/4 mile to that fork in the trail to wait. Now 11am.
In the meantime, Sasha and I found a place to hang out in the shady grove of pines. But not for long before Bill calls and asks me to move to the top of the hill, remember ‘that’ hill, so I can be seen and the tow rig can stop before the hill. No problem, as I trudge through the soft sand with help from leashed Sasha giving me a little tug.
I found a comfy place to shape a seat in the dune’s fine sand, me in the warming sun and shade for Sasha, she has black fur. At first I checked my email and sent a photo into the FB world, because I could.
Then I just sat and marveled at this glorious landscape, stark color contrasts, the breeze bringing a light desert scent that if I wore perfume that’s what it would be.
I like sand dunes and have seen quite a few lately at Death Valley and Mojave, seen being the key word here, as I don’t usually walk out into the sifting sand. It’s beautiful beyond words, soft and sensual, unless it’s in your eyes, clothes or shoes. I prefer my sand lithified, into sandstone. Much easier to walk on. But if you’re going to be stuck somewhere, this was a great place to be.
Noon, almost too soon I saw a Jeep coming down the road and knew it had to be the tow rig.
Everyone had a job to do. Bill and Ben, the Jeep driver, hauled the tow line from the winch, and I stayed out of the way and took photos. Once they had everything hooked up my assistant Sasha joined me on a dune and watched the show.
Wow! Am I ever amazed by the power of a winch. Never had one. S l o w l y, ever so slowly the Tundra crawled up ‘that’ hill, and just before it crested coming closer to the Jeep Ben kicked it in reverse and kept pulling it along.
Once over ‘that’ hill Ben turned the Jeep around and re-hooked with a tow strap. Sasha and I got in the Tundra with Bill and off we went. But not very far before the soft sand banks on a curve caused the front wheels to have a mind of their own and turn the opposite way Bill tried to steer. Again the Jeep got turned around, the winch was put back to working the Tundra slowly past the curve.
I was even more than impressed with this Jeep Rubicon, and it’s operator Ben. The winch even has remote control. Neither of us liked how this tore up the dunes.
OK, back to the tow strap with forward motion, but every curve caused problems. I hug out the passenger window to watch the front tire, letting Bill know when it wasn’t straight.
We ended up going most of the couple miles with Ben backing up and connected by winch line.
1:30pm, pavement. Where the “real” tow truck was on its way to bring Bill’s truck back into town, for repairs. Ben gave me a ride home and when Bill got to town at 3pm I gave him a ride home. Thank goodness he has a second truck. The clutch had to be replaced but our sand dune ride was only the proverbial straw. And all things considered four hours from stuck to returned wasn’t bad. Of course we still need to get to Peekaboo Canyon.
If in need of a tow or mechanical services in the Kanab, Utah area I highly recommend Ramsay Towing. Some of these photos will be on their “Wall of shame.”
Now that sounds like an interesting adventure, nice that Ben knew his stuff.
That guy was really good.
I should be up on a “wall of shame” somewhere! One time, hubby and I were looking at property in Sky Valley (near Desert Hot Springs). He told me to drive out onto an area that I didn’t think I should even attempt, but he kept yelling at me to do so, so I did and YUP! $200 later, and a tow, and I sure learned MY lesson!!! Next time, I’ll listen to MY inner voice~!
~Cheryl Ann~
We’ve probably all done something silly like this. But it always a good idea to follow you gut instinct. Thank goodness the tow was covered but the repairs were expensive.
Fortunately you had enough phone signal to make the rescue call. It’s good to have some patience in that situation, something I don’t have. Bill is to be commended for that. I know it was longer than planned … but great photos and narrative.
Thank goodness for that as so many places we go there is no signal. I too lack that kind of built in patience, but I’m learning. I actually thought the who ordeal went well, and pretty quick all things considered.
A great story and photos Gaelyn.
After mentioning a few posts back how you REALLY didn’t like walking in soft sand the whole situation was quite ironic!
Lucky you had signal otherwise it would have been a lot longer than 4 hours:)
Thanks Sue. I’ve had my shoes filled with soft enough lately. I thought it went pretty fast.
Yes, what a lovely place to get stuck! I imagine a towing company in an area like that must get lots of business. How old is Bill’s truck?
Ramsay certainly stays busy with towing but the driver said it’s usually a small car that is Really stuck. I think Bill’s truck is about 10 years old. First new clutch, and then the next week a new starter. He talks about getting rid of it but then can’t find anything he likes better. At least not without mortgaging his house. 😉
Well I’m not sure you should be on the hall of shame. You sure didn’t do that intentionally. Missing a turn is easy to do. But your pictures of the whole thing are terrific. Sorry about the hard hit to the wallet for the repairs though.
Thanks for the compliment and sympathy. I think the truck would have made it back out except for the clutch problem. Bill’s not so sure. He’s a really good driver.
That story makes me realise why my Dad had a winch and sand mats attached to the Land Rover when we drove through the Sahara in 1953!!!! No phone calls there if you got stuck and not mobiles for that matter either!!! Take care Diane
We were lucky to have a signal other wise it would have been a couple mile slog through the sand. Bill carries sand mats, rope, extra water and more, but no winch. Although he’s thinking of putting one on now. Of course he wouldn’t be carrying an extra clutch though. You had a smart Dad.
How did we manage before the wonders of technology and cell phones – lucky you had a signal or you would have had quite the hike. Pictures are wonderful and as you say, if you’re going to be stuck, be stuck with a view! Too bad our vehicles don’t come with a “the clutch is about to give out” signal! Glad it all worked out.
Yea, at least a two mile hike, through soft sand. Oh for a signal like that. Yet the view was superb.
Are sand mats, also called traction mats? Thanks.
Yes.
Oh, man. That’s one of my great fears. Keeps me on the main roads most of the time. Glad everything worked out so smoothly and you even took advantage of the opportunity. Good story.
Thanks Shane. I truly thought we’d make it out under Toyota power, but….
Nothing better than a calm man in a stressful situation – such a blessing. Beautiful spot to have some reflective time, glad you made the most of it. Looks like Sasha did well as your assistant 🙂
Yea, I need to learn how to be calm like that. Sasha is always a great assistant.
When I 1st read the title I thought you were in the truck and camper and figured..Oh No!
Glad things worked out……Lesson learned..I guess..I still make mistakes and I am..older…..
David
I know better than to take the truck camper to places like that.
Oh, man, I remember that road! I was cowering in the back seat of Mark and Bobbie’s Subaru like a little girl, afraid we were going to careen into a tree at each swerve. He didn’t want to slow down for fear we would be stuck. I loved little Peekaboo, but spent most of the time there wondering if I we would make it back out! Glad to know there is a “Ben” out there!
You were on the right road. So we’ll try again.
We heard your story, but seeing in photos makes that Rubicon even more impressive!
I was very impressed. If only it would tow the 5er.
A calm man is darn good to have around! (I like it.) Never been stuck in sand, but in mud and ooze way too many times. The last time it happened was in a town called Belle Fouche ND (the locals pronounced it something like ‘Foosh’ ) … we had a tow truck guy like yours who was a genius with a winch. It was great to watch. I still use the word “Foosh” when I get mad, as in “Oh Foosh, the computer just died on me!” … that kind of thing ;>)
He’s a fine man and no foosh about it.