4WDing

When a co-worker of Cory’s invited us to spend the weekend with him and his 4WD club, I can’t say that I really knew what to expect. Of course we took him up on the offer, as both of us are of the attitude that we might as well try it once. (There are a few exceptions to this – bungee jumping being one – and I suppose the more I think about it the longer the list of exceptions will get, but, generally, why not try it out?) So, as I was packing for the weekend, I was in a little bit of a quandary.

The plan was to drive a few hours to where the group would be camping. We’d ride with David in his truck or with someone else in their truck if we wanted to switch things up. I was also told that Fleur, David’s girlfriend wouldn’t want to just sit in the truck all day and that if I would like to bike with her, I should bring my bike. You may recall my last mountain biking adventure, but I was assured that she wasn’t too over-the-top and it would be gentle riding.

So I tossed in a couple of shorts and t-shirts, along with my flip-flops. I also grabbed my tennies for bike riding. Cory reminded me to toss in my fleece, and then, as we were leaving, suggested I grab my hiking boots as well. I didn’t really think we’d have any time for hiking, as we weren’t going to get there ‘til the afternoon on Saturday, and after a bike ride and a drive, we’d have to leave at a decent time Sunday. But why argue? There was plenty of room in the car, so I tossed in my boots as well.

After we were on the road, Cory asked if I’d brought a pair of jeans. I hadn’t, and I was a little irritated that he was asking now, as we clearly weren’t going to turn around. And why did I need jeans anyway? We were just going to be riding around in a jeep or something and maybe taking a bike ride.

I probably should have pinned Cory down on what exactly 4WDing involved. I envisioned sitting in a vehicle with big tires and mud flaps, driving around muddy, rough back roads. In the apartment garage we’d even seen a vehicle with a snorkel, to help keep the engine dry in water and to help cool the engine with fresh air in muddy situations (or so I’m told). But these vehicles had a roof, doors, a windshield, etc. To be fair, I’m not sure Cory knew what to expect either…

We arrived at the camping area, and David and Fleur were clearly excited to get going. David hustled Cory off in a vehicle that looked a little different than I’d been expecting, and Fleur, attired in a serious-looking biking outfit, and I hopped on our bikes. Fleur and I chatted as we rode, and she pointed out trees and birds in the surrounding bush. I think she was taking it easy on me, and I appreciated this. After our quads (or at least mine) were sore enough, we headed back for camp to have a cup of tea.

We sat and chatted, having been joined by some others that weren’t out 4WDing. And then the guys came back. I really wish I had a picture of Cory as he walked up to us. He was covered in mud; his hair was standing straight up and looked gray from all the dust. But he was grinning and had clearly enjoyed himself. The others looked just about as bad – dusty, muddy, wet, but all grinning. I was beginning to understand why I might want hiking boots and those jeans…

We spent that evening listening to everyone tell stories, drinking beers, and dodging kids as they ran around. Each family cooked their own meal, most of which looked pretty good and smelled even better. Ours was definitely the best meal, though; David had a herbed chicken, roasted veges, and chocolate mud cake with cream.

We toddled off to bed and after a quick breakfast the next morning, headed out in the trucks. I rode with Bruce, a friend of David’s, as there are often only two seats in a vehicle. Cory rode with David, and we switched every now and then. There were six vehicles out on the tracks, all which used to be logging roads. When I say they used to be logging roads, I mean that long ago, perhaps someone would have been able to identify them as a road. They were definitely not roads any longer. Sometimes, I didn’t even know there was a track of any sort! And there is no way any other type of vehicle could drive these tracks.

All of the vehicles with us were 4WDs custom-built for this purpose. There were huge tires, huge hydraulics, winches, axel-locks, and I don’t know all what else. Most of the building had been done by the drivers themselves, as well as all of the frequent repairs and upgrades. If you ever find yourself with any sort of car trouble on the side of the road, these are the guys you want to stop. They didn’t change any tires that day, but they swapped batteries, jump started, winched, and towed pretty fast and pretty frequently.

There were so many times I thought that it was simply not possible for a vehicle to go in, over, around, above, etc a particular area. Water, mud, huge ruts, uphills, downhills, logs, rocks, crazy angles…no problem! Sure, sometimes they had to winch someone up, or even all the cars had to be winched through a particular area, but they did it, without batting any eye.

I worked hard that day – keeping my arms inside the vehicle (just in case we rolled); keeping my mouth shut (no one wants a mouthful of mud); protecting my face from branches and sharp-edge grass (one small cut on my nose); squeezing my abs (to maintain a mostly upright position); and trying to keep my eyes open (the better to enjoy the experience – or something like that). I worked hard, too, trying to keep from crying out a warning – because surely we weren’t going to be able to make it alive through that!

But we did, and, once we were out there awhile, I began to realize that, while definitely crazy, these guys weren’t dangerous. They knew what they were doing. They also clearly enjoyed being out in the bush. They knew the names of trees, could identify birds by their call, knew what plants were native and which had been introduced, and really loved the area.

4WDers get some crap from environmentalists sometimes, but they consider themselves environmentalists, too. The area of bush they were driving in was a park. They had an agreement to only drive on the previously established logging tracks and they stuck to that. They helped maintain the access routes, re-grading park roads and clearing debris in some areas. It was interesting to listen to them, as they talked about the changes they’d seen in the park over the years they’d been driving there. New Zealand has had some introduced predators do significant damage to their native species. The possum, stoat, pig, and cat have all been problematic. The current method of control applied by the Department of Conservation (DOC) is to use 1080, a type of poison, applied to the land in pellet form. This is a controversial method of control and was universally disliked by this group, but the DOC feels it is safe and effective. I’m off on a tangent here, but it is a really interesting debate, especially as New Zealand has such interesting natural species.

We drove all day, returning to camp around 7. And while it was definitely fun, I have never been quite so excited to take a shower. I’d managed to keep my face pretty clean, but had chunks of mud stuck to my head and could shake dust from my hair. My boots and socks were covered in mud. I’d skipped the shorts and instead worn my pajama pants (no yellow duckies, thankfully, just cropped sweatpants) with my fleece – both of which were also covered. Cory was worse though. His jeans were soaked, and his once gray shirt was mostly brown. It took two wash cycles and a lot of stain remover to return his shirt to a sort-of wearable condition. Luckily, he was so thoroughly muddy, it just looks as if his grey shirt now just has an all-over brownish cast.

But we did thoroughly enjoy the weekend. The bush was beautiful and exploring it in such a manner is something we had never done before and, with the Honda as our only vehicle, probably won’t do again!