Chapter VII: The Bald Mountain Jeep Trail

So.. I had Freyja.  I had the first phase of her build complete. I had run a few dirt roads and gotten off the beaten path.  I had even made a road trip.

But I hadn’t been off road… not really.

I am not a member of any off-road clubs, I’m not that much of a joiner, I don’t live in the mountain west where, if Insta is to be believed, there are literally off road trails and technically demanding overland routes everywhere.  So… I had to find a trail.

Enter the All Trails app.

A quick search, add some filter magic, and… boom.  I found three off road trails within a couple hours of the house.  One was listed as difficult… I wasn’t really that interested in that. Things I don’t want to spend money on right now?  That’s right… fixing Freyja because I took her someplace that I wasn’t prepared to take her.  Also… I was alone.  I don’t mean just riding alone, I mean I was wheeling alone.

Oh… yeah… for those of you out there who need to be told this… don’t do that.  It’s stupid. I will tell you why later.  For now… just trust me.

Another trail was listed as easy.  I was tempted; discretion is often the better part of valor, after all, but what is the point of taking Freyja for an off road shake out if it is too easy?

I settled on the Bald Mountain Jeep Trail in the George Washington National Forest.  It is listed as intermediate.  I mean… I’m a confident guy… right?  How hard could it be?

I contemplated taking ReggieFace.  I mean… he LOVES to “come with” but I wasn’t sure what the trail would hold or what that would mean for him.  So.. he got to stay home.

I don’t think he has forgiven me yet.

I made the drive and used the Google Maps feature on All Trails to find the trailhead.  Thank God for that.  There is NO WAY I would have found it without that.

The Bald Mountain Jeep trail is listed as: “A 10.5 mile lightly trafficked point-to-point trail.” Sounds great.

The gate was open and I headed up the entrance road… an entrance road that was every bit as rough as I expected the trail to be.

Uh oh.

The first few miles of the trail weren’t much different from the entrance road.  Double track of broken rock and dirt.  The only real difference was… the foliage.  It was like driving through a green tunnel.  The trail would change, the green tunnel would not.

As the trail wound on… and on… and on… the surface changed from broken rock double track to rock, to dirt, to mud and water holes, and back.  There are rock steps going both up and down, and there are water holes.

Oh… are there water holes.

It hadn’t been raining a lot lately… but it hadn’t been that long either.  In truth, I was hoping for a little bit of water.  Those of you who follow my insta know that I’m not afraid of a little water.

The first couple of water crossings were nothing.  Puddles on rock, no problem.  And then I hit the bigger ones.  I hit a water hole and felt the tires sink and my heart sank with it.  It was water over mud.  Problem.

Freyja handled it without a problem and, once my heartrate came back down, I began to feel more confident in Freyja and in myself.

I also learned to roll the windows up when I crossed deep water… merp.

The trail continued.  Every so often there is a cut out in the woods to give drivers a place to turn around which is great if you don’t feel like spending three hours on the trail or you don’t want to tackle the most demanding part of it.  The problem is when the turn-around comes right before a descending rock staircase that would be extremely difficult to reverse back up and the next one isn’t until after another water hole.

This one intimidated me.  There was what appeared to be a place to go around but that was flooded too.  I got out and walked through the woods and, after finding a stick, tested the depth of the water…. Not too bad…. Ok… I can handle this.  I mean… I don’t really have a choice anyway… right?

I checked my phone… no signal… at all…

The go around was on the right.  The main trail was on the left.  I went left.

Ok… well… here goes.

I rolled the windows up (see, mom, I CAN learn from my mistakes) and pushed into the water…

And nose-dived.  The front tires got off the dry ground and it felt like I was in a diving submarine as the tires sunk into the mud under the water.  I want to tell you all that I didn’t panic… ok… I didn’t PANIC...  buuuuuuuuuut…..

Ok, I was extremely nervous.

As a tip, when you get into terrain like that… DO NOT STOP.  If you are still moving forward… DO NOT STOP.  Also… DO NOT POUND ON THE GAS!!!

Why not?  Well, not stopping is an easy answer.  You are still moving forward.  You have momentum.  Don’t give that up.  Not to mention that you have no idea what is under your tires.  The weight settling on that surface may cause you to punch even lower and sink deep enough that you can’t get out of.  Not pounding on the gas… well… if you pound on the gas what happens?  Your tires spin faster which could cause you to dig in and get yourself stuck.

I didn’t do either of those things.  I kept my foot on the gas and gave her slow acceleration and, despite being able to SEE the bow wave over the front of the hood, despite feeling the water slapping against the door and feeling the tires slogging through the mud… She pulled out the other side without a problem.

I am completely convinced that this was entirely due to my patting her on the dashboard and urging her on with repeated “come on baby”s.

Shortly after finishing that water hole I met a Jeeper coming the other way.  We stopped and talked for a while.

As it turns out, he was quite familiar with the trail and he informed me that what I thought was the go around was, actually, a permanent water hole that was dug for Jeeps with much bigger lifts than mine.

I only went left out of dumb luck.

Remember when I said not to wheel alone?  Well, this is why.  I could, very easily, have gotten stuck.  No cell signal.  No CB.  No real idea of where I was.  It could have been bad.  I don’t have any recovery equipment on Freyja yet.  

If you are going to wheel alone, stick to trails you know and that you know you can handle. Tell people where you are going and how long you should be gone.  In this world we get too comfortable and we forget that when you step out into the wild places, mother nature will kill you if you give her the chance.  On the trail the only think keeping mother nature at bay is your rig.

If you are wheeling a trail for the first time… don’t go alone.

The trail ended shortly after that and spit me out on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  I breathed a sigh of relief and admired the view.

Overall… the trail was a challenge, which is what I wanted and needed.  It wasn’t so hard that I had to accept damage to the truck, it wasn’t so hard that it wasn’t fun.  But it was a challenge.  I was disappointed by the fact that there wasn’t a better view from the trail but not too disappointed. The trail demanded enough attention that, to be honest with you, the view may have been spectacular and I wouldn’t have noticed.

So… what did I learn?  You mean, besides not to wheel alone?  Well… I learned that the rock sliders that I have been doing without are going to be the next upgrade.  I learned that Freyja is a much more capable off road truck than I had given her credit for and that her driver can handle himself decently as well.  I also learned that there are off road driving schools for a reason and that I need to call one.

It also made me re-think my priorities when it comes to my plan for Freyja.  A roof rack? Sure… that’s a game changer for how I set up and how I travel… but will it get me out of trouble?  While I surely didn’t need locking differentials for this trail… that doesn’t mean I never will and, often, when you figure out that you need something it is too late.

At the end of the day, this trip was exactly what Freyja and I wanted and needed and we are both looking forward to more trail reports.