Do you know that guy? You know the one. He’s always pushing his luck just a little too far. “I think I can do this” is an overused phrase in his vocabulary. And even though he somehow manages to avoid disaster more than any normal person can, eventually his luck runs out.

Well, that is not normally me, but this trip has slowly transformed me into that guy. I’ve taken way more high clearance, 4WD roads than my wife is comfortable with me taking. (and by way more I mean any high clearance, 4WD roads). That’s right. She likes paved roads and guardrails and traffic signals and all that modern stuff. We’ve been down some doozies in our rented Hyundai Santa Fe. And every time she has to warn me just in case something goes wrong. But, of course, I don’t listen. Especially with three boys telling me “You can do this.”

We were taking it a little easy for a couple of days after our rim to rim of the Grand Canyon on Tuesday. By Wednesday night we had made it to Kanab, UT. We decided to hang out for a day and see some of the local sights we had not seen before. Of particular interest was a local slot canyon called Peek-A-Boo Canyon or Red Canyon. Not to be confused with the Peek-A-Boo Canyon we had already visited up by Escalante the previous week.

There were warnings in the brochure about the danger of getting stuck while driving to the trail head through three miles of sandy wash. How bad can it be, right? Well, let’s just say “sandy wash” was an understatement. “Quicksand” might have been more accurate. We were almost a mile in before we finally found a spot solid enough to turn around. Less than three hundred yards after turning around my wife’s worst fears were realized. We were stuck frame-deep in sand that offered about as much traction as air.

We tried a few things to get some momentum, all to no avail. We were in the process of trying to dig ourselves out with a couple of garden trowels when Mark pulled up behind us and came up to help. He was kind to us. The only remark he offered before starting to help was, “all-wheel drive is not four-wheel drive.” I felt he let me off easy.

We let the air out of the tires to gain traction and laid down a piece of carpet he had in an effort to gain traction. With that done, Mark, his wife and daughter and my wife and three sons pushed as I drove. We were still unable to budge our trusty rental from the pit of sand that drug on the bottom of the frame of our vehicle.
About this time, the jackwagons in the Hummer pulled up behind Mark. The driver gets out and brings me a card for a local towing company before hopping back in his Hummer and driving around us plowing through the sagebrush and leaving us in his dust. I can still see them laughing. Hence, the name “jackwagons”.

Anyway, I found out Mark had a tow strap. I suggested that if we could pull my vehicle backwards enough to get me out of the pit we might be able to drive the vehicle the rest of the way out. Minus the weight of my family in the vehicle and the deflated tires it was worth a shot. I managed to get the tow straps around the rear suspension and headed back to hook the strap on the tow hook on Mark’s bumper. I hooked it on the bumper and that’s as far as I made it. I clung desperately to the hood of Mark’s truck in an effort to not do a full face plant in the sand myself.

When I bent over to hook that strap, my back went out; it took me a few minutes to be able to breathe enough to straighten up to a vertical position. Somehow I managed to get back and into my vehicle. With Mark pulling and me driving in reverse we managed to get out of that stupid hole. I was then able to drive the rest of the way out to the main road where I waited for Mark and my family to arrive. I thanked him profusely for his help and headed for the hotel and the hot tub where I could soak my sore back and my injured pride.

Anyway, that’s just one of our stories from this week’s adventures. We’ll share some more next week. I need to go put some ice on my back.

Go find some adventure. And listen to your wife. She’s bound to be right eventually.

Mike