Off-road warriors rumble through the woodsBy LINDA LANGE, lange@Knews.com
September 28, 2003 OLIVER
SPRINGS -- The parking lot at Windrock is crawling with trucks, Jeeps,
Toyotas, ATVs, trail buggies and dirt bikes. RVs and campers sit on the
fringe of the gravel lot. "Mad chaos," Brian Pridemore says in a murmur
hardly audible as motors rev up. He leans against a Jeep waiting for a
few more members of Plum Crazzed 4WD Club to arrive. Itching to go, everyone slides into vehicles and heads into the
woods. The club likes to go together because in all likelihood Jeeps
will break down on the trail, says Dalton Eble as I join him for this
ride. The four wheelers maneuver up the mountain on a dirt road that
resembles corrugated cardboard. Rocks ranging in size from very big to
substantial litter the surface, making this a sport of skill and
stamina.
"The rougher the better," says Eble as the engine whines. Mud splatters
from the tires directly into the interior of the doorless red Jeep.
"Trails change day to day. I've run this in pouring rain," he says.
"It's slippery." Ice in winter adds thrills. Summer heat can be
uncomfortable so four wheelers go for late-night rides. "With fog
lights we can see what we're doin'," says Eble. Running at 5 to 10 mph, his Jeep scrambles across ochre
gullies and loose gravel. Eble shifts gears and engages front tires on
an as-need basis. He coaxes the groaning vehicle between boulders and
bruised trees, slamming into reverse and angling tires until he can
advance out of the tight spots. "Jeeps have a quick turn radius; they
don't drive like a car. You've got to pay attention." As someone just being introduced to four wheeling, I cringe as
the Jeep approaches ruts and sharp-edged rocks, but feel a thrill when
we pass over obstacles that would rip up the undercarriage of a sedan.
The 4x4 bounces over mountains and who knows where, and the cares of
every-day life get left behind in clouds of dust. "Still playing with Jeeps," a motto plastered across the
front, declares Eble's love for four wheeling. As with several other
members, Eble grew up on a farm and began driving tractors when he was
10, graduating to trucks by 12. As if to offer an explanation as to why
he spends his free time roaming deep into the forest, the East
Tennessean says, "One of my ancestors cut a road through the
wilderness." He modified his Jeep for this type of adventure. Simple off/on
switches punctuate the dashboard, which fronts a tangle of wires that
resembles a mass of vines in the thickets. His Jeep, like others, is
equipped with roll cage, winch, toolbox, spare parts, CB radio and
super-strength seat belts. For ground clearance, the Jeeps have tires measuring 38 to 44
inches tall. Most vehicles have beadlock wheels, or extra bolts that
hold tires to wheels so the tires won't release air when they strike
rocks. "Tires with low air pressure get better bite," explains Matthew
Howard of Wartburg. "If you've got a hard tire, it's just going to stop
at a rock. If you've got real low pressure, it's going to swallow the
rock." About every 30 minutes, one of the vehicles ahead of us
'breaks' or gets into trouble. Engines quit or trucks careen sideways.
On one stretch, the road's ripples deepen into ditches. A blue Chevy's
wheels splay in all directions. Members spring from seats and see
what's the problem. A winch keeps the Chevy from turning over, while
the driver tries to navigate from the slippery abyss. Rocks fly in all
directions as the truck squirms forward and climbs out. "Nobody stays in the woods. One way or another we bring them
out," says Dennis Brock of Kingston. Within minutes, drivers hoist
themselves back into their tall vehicles. The procession continues down
the sinuous clay path, a tunnel through the leafy woods. Branches swat
the windshield and exhaust fumes mix with the odor of honeysuckle. At a midday break, Brock reflects on the challenges of four
wheeling. "It takes some finesse. It takes some skill and years of
learning and 'breaking' and wishing you hadn't done that. It's a lot of
hand-eye coordination -- and feet. Knowing when to give it gas and when
not to. You can put it in the wrong spot and tip it over real, real
quick. It's amazing that you can take a vehicle that's intended to
drive on the road and drive through these hills and trails. It's pretty
neat." Brock, 36, wearing reflecting sunglasses and his trademark
leather hat, drives a white Jeep customized with zebra striping. "You have to be mechanically inclined, I guess, to keep on
running. But usually, if you can't fix it, someone else can. That's the
good thing about riding in a group. There's always people with
different trades and different skills, so usually you can figure it out
or patch it up good enough to get home anyway," says Roger Gallaher of
Kingston. "It's kind of perceived as a redneck sport, but we're not like
that. We're out here having a good time. I enjoy being outside in the
peace and quiet," say Gallaher, 31. "Except for the engines," he adds
as his voice is nearly drowned out by growling motors. Four wheelers
claim that they see deer, raccoons, turkeys and snakes, but on this
trip, the wildlife stays hidden. No birdsong or cricket chorus sounds
in the distance. Club members follow "Tread Lightly" rules set by the Southern
Four Wheel Drive Association, a six-state organization that promotes
four wheel drive recreation, responsible land usage, conservation and
education. "We don't rip-and-tear and run over trees. We stay right on
the trails. We try to keep people out of creeks. We save the land so we
can ride on it for many more years," says Brock, who gets on the gravel
nearly every weekend. About 1,000 member families belong to the
association. The 30-member Plum Crazzed 4WD Club has developed quickly
because the sport is growing nationwide. "I just like gettin' out in
the woods, gettin' away from everything. No stress from the daily
grind. Just being with friends and having a good time," says Ron
Pridemore. Picnics are part of the fun. While milling around the side of
the road among poison ivy, berry bushes, wildflowers and sassafras
trees, we munch on bologna sandwiches and chips. Matthew Howard spears
Armour Vienna Sausages with his pocketknife. Jack Arp of Kingston says
this is one way to get his son, William, 14, away from Play Station. "I
try to show him that you can do a lot of things for fun," says Arp.
Brian Pridemore, 32, is accompanied by his son, Cody, 10, and by Ron,
his father. The elder says, "I got started in 1966 with flat fender
Jeeps so I've been doing this just about all my life." Motioning to
Brian, he adds, "I strapped him into a car seat when he was 6 months
old." Members agree that four wheeling can be an expensive sport.
"I've spent too much time pulling out the rear wallet," says Brian
Pridemore. He invested about $10,000 in his brown Renegade Jeep so it
can maneuver across rough terrain. Costs range between $5,000 to
$25,000, depending on how much mechanical work drivers manage to do
themselves. As we wait to regroup, a trail buggy zips by. The passenger
reacts to the onlookers by quickly slipping a beer bottle out of sight.
This evokes disgust from Ron Pridemore. "I hate to see that. There's no
drinking allowed," he remarks. "There's always a bad apple," says Brock. "We police it as a
group and see that it's stopped." He concedes that trash gets left in
the woods and rock-crawling vehicles enter creeks where signs clearly
prohibit such activities. "But we try to keep it down. There are a lot
of homes that back up to the property, so we are in these people's
backyards. Maybe 200 Jeeps come every weekend. We play and leave the
mountain as we found it. That's the goal," he says. Members gather
regularly for trail maintenance projects such as putting up fencing,
digging water bars and installing silt traps. The kudzu-veiled
landscape bears scars of strip mining, but it also boasts several
picturesque overlooks into the valley. Cole Creek Mining and Manufacturing Company owns the
72,000-acre parcel and sells permits to ride. By just looking at
license plates, it's clear that this trail network attracts people from
across the South. "It's not uncommon to see people from New Mexico,
Washington, California, from everywhere," says Brock. Trails are rated
as easy, moderate, difficult and extreme. Some routes are restricted
for use by ATVs or dirt bikes. "All they asked is that we stay on
marked trails. They were cut out of the mountain to mine coal," says
Brock. Linda Lange may be reached at 865 342-6433. She is a feature writer of the News Sentinel.
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