Wrong Trail on Easter

I stopped and took a picture of my truck going between two trees. This was nothing compared to what was to come.

Click on the thumbnails to view each image.

March 31, 2002
After doing the bunny thing Easter morning and dropping my daughter at her mom's I went up to Putney Mountain and parked at the parking area at the top for a bit to see who was around. I was planning to head up a trail I had seen on the map and was heading out the parking lot around 2:30pm when I noticed some tracks coming out of the woods across the road. I decided to see where that trail went instead, even though it wasn't on the topo map.

It was OK for awhile, even after I realized that I was following snowmobile tracks and not truck tracks. The trail wound up and down, through woods and over a few streams and a couple of stone walls. Around 20 minutes after starting on the trail (my camera has a date stamp) I stopped and took a picture of my truck going between two trees. I guess I was thinking something like "no bigger trucks could follow me here". Little did I know how true that was to become.

Two minutes later, I was not paying enough attention and approached a slight angled rise and rock too low and ended up slipping down a bit and getting bogged in the snow with a tree to my left against my mirror (luckily, the mirror just turned all the way forward and didn't break). At that point I should have backed up if I could and tried again but instead I spun my tires jockeying back and forth and ended up sliding more, to the point where I couldn't back up because I now had a tree behind me. I was fairly well stuck. Luckily, I was able to clear some dead trees and branches and work my way over down slope to my left until I could just bypass that spot, squeeze between two trees and get back on the trail. It was a pretty tight squeeze, even with my mirrors turned in like a frightened puppy's ears but it was good practice for later down the trail. I hadn't done any damage to the truck save for a couple of little dents in the rear bumper and a scratched up mirror housing.

I kept going and the trail was OK, but there were some pretty narrow spots and it was pretty slippery. Around 3:30 I came down a hill and crossed a scenic stream which was sandy and firm underneath and started up a muddy rise that was flowing with water. I did some tire spinning and mud slinging but made it up with no problem. I could see that a truck had come through here at some point, possibly as recently as last fall but I was following snowmobile tracks that were probably about 3 days old. Near the top of this I had to make sure I rode over a sharp rock sticking up about a foot in the middle of the trail, but otherwise the trail was fine in this section. I was about an hour in and still felt good about my chances of making it out the other side (wherever that ended up being) before dark.

About 10 minutes after leaving this spot I came down into a marshy area that still had a pretty thick covering of ice. I got out and jumped around on it and tried to get a sense of how deep it was underneath but it was pretty solid. It didn't look too deep where I could pole the mud so I figured I'd just try to keep up some speed and not stop until I had crossed it. This was a fun little section - I expected to break through immediately but for a second or two I was up on the ice, then *wham!* the whole truck dropped about a foot and mud started flying. I think this is where I got a face full of mud sticking my head out to see my wheels. I just kept it moving as slammed up and down at sharp angles alternately as each wheel hit and climbed over the asymmetrical obstructions that you can see in the picture. It was a rush, like driving a short, muddy, violent roller coaster. I think for pure fun it was my favorite single part of this trail.

At one point I came upon snowmobile trail signs at an intersection of two trails. I still didn't turn around, even though it seemed that probably no trucks had been through here in quite a while. I chose the trail that looked like more snowmobiles had taken and that went more or less straight and kept going. Around 4:00, I came to a bend and what looked like two trees I couldn't pass and no clear way through. I did see a potential path that I could bushwack without killing anything, but i wanted to follow the trail a bit by foot to see if it was worth it. In trying to see if I could make it, I realized my arms outstretched are about the same width as my truck, so I walked through the forest with my arms out like I was playing airplane. Before the day was over I would have spent a fair amount of time walking ahead in sections, arms sticking straight out, making sure it was worth getting past a particular section. Anyone watching would have thought I had lost my mind. I decided I could probably make it if I just got past those trees and when I came back I realized it was an optical illusion and I could actually squeek by. I really should have turned around here but I thought I must be pretty close to the dirt road that is below this part of "mountain". I mean, it is only about a mile and a quarter straight down as the crow flies.

This is where the batteries in my camera died so I don't have pictures for the worst parts of this trip. You'll have to take the body damage as proof. :) After getting through those trees it got progressively more difficult. I got into the conifers and the trail became more narrow and steep and the snow was more deep. I passed a couple of Fish and Game survey markers crossing a ridge but otherwise saw only tracks (including coyote and black bear - both fresh). I felt bad about wheeling here, since it was clear now it wasn't a 4x4 trail. I try to be responsible wheeling but at this point I just wanted to get out and felt like the snow would protect the ground for the most part. I don't even like knocking down dead trees, even small ones but I had to get out. The area was crisscrossed with old stone walls. I crossed at least 6 of them not one of them at a straight approach. I kept thinking "well, it has got to get better eventually" but it seemed to get worse. I kept sliding into the trees, trying to climb little angled hills with little room on each side. I spent some time getting up a couple of hills and at least 5 times had to extract myself sideways from trees as in the first example. At one point my rear wheel was off the ground and the nerf bar was up against a tree. I felt like those nerf bars held up quite well, considering. Another time my tire tread was completely perpendicular against a tree, I didn't realize they would bend quite that far. I kept coming into stonewall boardered clearings thinking I must be coming up on something but i guess they were fields from 100 years ago, like the walls. Several times I thought about turning around but it was too late in the day to hope that I could do that and get out before dark and I was pretty wet by then. With every obstacle I passed I was more reluctant to turn around and do it again. I wasn't worried but I was ready to get out and it was getting later.

Around 5:00 I saw up ahead signs for a landtrust area and signs saying no ATV's. I took this as a good sign that I was headed toward the road and with some difficulty got to a place about 100 yards from what looked much more like an old 4x4 trail just past a snowy crest. I figured the snowmobiles must have to come out somewhere! I decided to follow the little trail I was on up the crest even though it was really tight and angled. My only other option was pure bushwacking that didn't look much better at all. I ended up really hung up in the trees, worse than ever. Eventually I managed to get the truck at an angle that I thought I could knock down some dead trees and a few saplings and get through. This is where I did the most damage to the truck. Backing up at some point while trying to get free, a tree caught the handle on the passenger side and ripped it off in one motion with a sound like a gunshot. I think I also must have heard my quarter panel being banged in then, too and that's why it was such a loud noise but I didn't notice that until it was pointed out to me later that night. Luckily I got out and looked and retrieved the handle. My fender flare on that side also had a few screws ripped out and I got some good scratches on both sides.

Well, this story is long enough. It took me until 6pm to hit the dirt road and I was quite happy and relieved and a bit proud that I had made it, and before dark. That makes it three and a half hours to go about a mile and a half. I was soaked to the knees, had some body damage and was quite tired but I was pretty exhilarated. I am still finding little sticks in the cab from small, dead limbs shattering against the truck and flying in, I guess. I felt like I got off pretty easily and didn't do too much damage to the trails either. I won't do that again but it was quite an experience.