But, for the first time in my life, I've seen first-hand why people buy more vigorous transportation options, like Jeeps, Tanks, and Batmobiles. Turns out they're useful when the pavement runs out, the road turns to boulders, and the hairpins turn to switchbacks.
Where have I taken my Toyota Corolla, with its whopping 6" of ground clearance and 1.8 liter engine?
Eastern Oregon. Hells Canyon, to be more precise. A 27 mile drive through roads full of desolation and if-you-get-stuck-here-you're-not-getting-out vibes.
It was one of those roads with a single lane and no turnouts. Eventually, even though you realize the error of your ways, you have no choice but to continue. It's how I picture it would be like to run the gauntlet. You're walking (driving feebly) down a path (rut) between two lines of hostile shipmates (sheer cliffs) being physically abused (bottoming out) and hoping that your blood (oil, power steering fluid, brake fluid, etc...) doesn't run out before reaching the end.
We reached our destination... Dug Bar ranch... in a cloud of dust. I knew--was certain--we weren't getting out of there. At least, not without a helicopter, barge, or paving crew.
And I was wrong.
So, it turns out that if a car has decent tires, and can grip the road, you can get out of almost anywhere, provided the car doesn't stall on you. Which is tricky. But, fortunately, mine's a manual, so we were able to rocket out of the canyon in first gear, screaming around hairpins, giving my co-pilot ulcers as he gazed at the distant boulders marked "death" 500 feet below his window.
There were one... maybe two... panicked screams of "YOU'RE GETTING TOO CLOSE".
But we survived. Thrived even. Which goes to show that even the sketchiest of situations can turn out all right in the end.
Until next time,
- Daniel
