Rubicon Trail
| The Rubicon Trail |
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Over to the left was a rock that looked as big as a double-decker bus, and there was one the size of an elephant off to the right. Between them was a gulley big enough to swallow a horse and cart, but the bearded mountain man up ahead gestured us on, indicating that we should steer just a little to the left, then a little to the right, all the time making sure that the Wrangler's tyres stayed glued to the granite as we made our way gently across the obstacle. The Rubicon trail was once a well-maintained interstate highway, but now the surface has been eroded away by wind, rain and weather so that for long stretches only the underlying boulders remain in place. Some parts of the trail are tough enough to require a useful four-wheel drive, and although it's a public highway open to anyone willing to attempt it Jeep has very much made the trail its own, reflecting its rugged nature in the badging of tough-specification Wranglers. There's more to it than that - the company used to boast that every Jeep that rolled off the production line was "Rubicon Ready", a testament not only to the ability of the vehicles, but also to the manufacturer's commitment to off-roading adventure. With the advent of the soft-roader Patriot they can no longer make that claim - the catchphrase is now "Trail Ready" - but thankfully the Wrangler is as Rubicon Ready as ever. I was fortunate enough to ride the Rubicon Trail as a guest of the manufacturer, given a bright blue Wrangler for the occasion. The trail runs from Georgetown in northern California over the heights of the Sierra Nevada to the cool blue waters of Lake Tahoe. The trail is just 22 miles long, but it took us nigh on two days to cover the distance - not just because it gets quite difficult in parts, but because an overnight stop had been engineered into the program at Rubicon Springs, right up in the mountains, where we downed cold beers around a blazing bonfire and munched on massive barbecued steaks to the background strains of a Scottish pipe band that had been helicoptered in for our amusement. Some of the guys took a bath in the lake, but I declined - not only did the water look too cold but there were things moving about among the water weeds. We weren't the only visitors to the trail. On the way we passed several family groups who'd made their way up into the mountains in Cherokees and Grand Cherokees to enjoy a camping holiday in the woods and beside the streams - even little kids were able to tickle for fish in these rarely-visited rivers. Long stretches of the trail consist of nothing more than bare granite, with nothing to mark the way but a dark trail of oil drips left over the years by the many cars that caught sumps and gearboxes on some of the more jagged rocks along the way. Other stretches are so dusty that we were forced to wrap bandanas around our faces to avoid breathing the clouds of swirling dust. The chilled Budweisers we enjoyed while overlooking the cool water of Lake Tahoe after the event were welcome, but not wet enough to dampen our enthusiasm for the superbly scenic trail that has become as iconic as the Wrangler itself.
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