Rubicon Ready

It all went very quiet for a moment, and then Martin said: “I think this might be a good time for you to take over, Bob.”

I don’t blame Martin for being a bit nervous, because at that moment the Wrangler was rocking gently to and fro with only its right front and left rear wheels touching the ground, with its nose hanging down at an alarming angle; I give Martin full marks for not panicking. It was, after all, the very first time he’d driven off-road, and I had guided him up an obstacle on John Morgan’s Slindon Safari site that even makes me nervous. It’s a short but steep and very rutted climb with a sharp left turn at the top and a run down a sheer-sided slope that isn’t quite as steep as the climb, but which over the years has been carved away severely on the left so that any car traversing it will heel over in a quite unnerving manner.

We’d watched others attempting the climb, without success, if only because the ruts are serious axle-twisters and it’s unlikely that anyone would make it without a locking rear diff. It was, however, an ideal obstacle for a tutorial session, because I had a point to make about keeping the off-roading slow and steady so as not to damage the car, or the environment. The guys who’ve nicknamed me “Sideshow Bob” might snigger at that, but hey, listen guys, there are times when momentum is the only answer…

With the Wrangler’s rear locker in and the sway bar disconnected I told Martin he could make the climb in first gear, low range, on tickover. The Wrangler clambered relentlessly upwards, at which point Martin’s lack of off-roading experience began to tell. He hadn’t made a mental note of where the track went once he reached the top, and with the bonnet aimed skywards there was no way he could see what lay ahead.

“There’s a left turn here,” I said, helpfully, and as so often happens Martin immediately threw on lots of lock, threatening to send the car rolling over the edge. No wonder Martin felt like handing over at that point. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it that easily. “Just leave it in first gear and switch off the engine. It won’t go anywhere. Then we’ll get out and have a look.” I pointed out where he should be aiming the Jeep, then got him back in behind the wheel. I don’t think Martin took another breath for the whole wobbling, rocking, rolling minute it took us to reach ground zero, made all the more exhilarating because we were half way down before Martin eventually persuaded his foot to let in the clutch.

Nick had meanwhile been relaxing in the back seat, giving a perfectly good impression of being completely unconcerned. He obviously needed something to get the adrenalin flowing, so I let him take the wheel from a relieved Martin and aimed him towards a very steep, very rutted climb of a significantly different type – one of a more clay-like, and therefore much slipperier, consistency, made all the more difficult by the approach which was through a trench holding at least a foot of water.

“Try it on tickover,” I said, just to show him it wasn’t going to be an easy climb. A foot or so up the slope and the Wrangler sat with all four wheels slithering across the slippery clay. “Okay,” I said, “ try second gear and a bit of momentum. Nick perked up at that. I sensed that he liked the idea of a bit of momentum. The Jeep made it a bit further up the slope, but the way was made difficult by a massive cross-axling rut on the right hand side half way up. “Up a gear,” I said, “and some more momentum.” Nick backed up ready for another go. “Quite a bit more momentum,” I added. His eyes gleaming, Nick backed up another six feet and went for it. The Jeep lurched from side to side as the wheels scrabbled for grip, but Nick, like a pro, kept the revs steady, turned the steering gently form side to side searching for grip, and the Wrangler scrambled over the top. With elementary off-road lessons completed, I decided it was time for a burger – before the guys decided to try something more serious…