Deep in the high and rocky deserts of eastern Utah, just a few miles west of the border with Colorado, we were climbing a 20-degree incline in a Land Rover made for this sort of off-road adventure. Suddenly, we were faced with a near vertical, one-metre rock face. My instructor, Charles Hendrickson, told me to climb over it. If the name sounds familiar, it’s because Hendrickson was a technical advisor on the street-racing show Pinks.
I looked at him as if he were asking me to do the impossible. He calmly told me to put my front left wheel on a large bolder just off to the left and use that to springboard us up to the next level. Still pessimistic that we weren’t going to make it, I got stuck with the right front wheel up on the one-metre rock face and the left wheel dangling. In that moment, I was pretty sure we were about to roll over.
It should obviously be said that what happens next should not be attempted. Hendrickson then got out of the passenger seat and worked his way to the front of the vehicle and stood on its hefty front bumper and used his weight to push the vehicle down. After jumping up and down a couple of times and me applying generous throttle, the dangling wheel made contact and I continued to climb the hill while carrying my instructor perched on the front bumper.
When Hendrickson got back in, he said he normally wouldn’t do that, but climbing the rock face was a good opportunity to show me what I actually can do. Even as an experienced mechanic with off-road driving skills, climbing that face was the culmination of days of learning techniques from experts.
I was on the Colorado-Utah border as part of a three-day off-road course in May with Cameron Advanced Mobility (CAM) training.
Ken Cameron, a military veteran, along with a group of other retired military personnel and FBI agent Greg Walton created their primary course in the early 2000s to teach people how to cross rough terrain, with an emphasis on tactical driving, vehicle recovery, navigation and field repairs. Over the years, they have taught countless military personnel and now also lead tours for anyone looking for an adventure.
In 1996, Cameron placed second in the Camel Trophy off-road competition, also called the “Olympics of 4 x 4,” and completed the first east-west four-wheel-drive crossing of Borneo.
He then had an idea that there was a need for driver training and survival related specifically to vehicles operating in harsh terrain. Once Cameron and his crew developed their first course, they leveraged their military contacts, inviting officers from the U.S. Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) to sample what they had to offer.
After the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the military’s need to train its forces for missions in places with few paved roads increased. Breaking down in the desert has life-threatening ramifications, so Cameron and his crew trained the officers on staying out of vehicular trouble and how to get out of a dire situation when things go wrong.
With increasing interest from civilians in serious off-road driving, they decided to start a new version of their training programs.
While the full-length course is five days from Las Vegas to Yuma, Ariz., our three-day media adventure would run early in the season in an area Cameron knows well. He grew up around there.
Day one started in the classroom with Cameron offering a PowerPoint presentation about typical 4-by-4 systems and the importance of keeping maintenance records to track common breakdowns and anticipate them. He included a segment on fuel logging, so that accurate distance predictions could be calculated. These vehicles are often crawling through the desert in difficult conditions, complicating typical fuel-management predictions.
The mechanical training is not going to give a rookie the knowledge necessary to be able to replace a an axle in the middle of the desert, but by knowing the basics, drivers can understand what kind of driving habits cause the breakdowns. Prevention is the key, but I do believe the emergency breakdown segment included in the course could be useful to those with some basic understanding of mechanics.
After sitting in a classroom, we were eager to get out in the dirt, but first we needed to orient ourselves with CAM’s fleet of older, but well-maintained Land Rovers, and go over basic winching techniques in the parking lot.
A couple of hours later, we left the highway and things went from mild-mannered to extreme in an instant, as we drove across terrain that most would consider extreme off-roading. While the landscape may possess a a rugged beauty all its own, it is desolate. Owned by the U.S. Bureau of Land Management, it is leased to cattle and sheep farmers, as that is all that it can be used for. Even for cattle, the environment is unforgiving; I saw several rotting carcasses.
Following driving instructions was now my primary focus. My instructor on Day One was a master mechanic named Dale Webber Arnold, known as Webb and also Yoda. (Yoda, because he can fix almost anything, anywhere, with just a pair of pliers.) He was the strong, quiet type, but when he spoke, I listened. He taught me how to brake with my left foot.
Despite all the driving instructors cringing at this statement, driving with both feet is CAM’s preferred way when climbing severe inclines and rock faces that most people would not think passable. Arnold taught me that by keeping my foot slightly on the brake pedal I could stabilize the vehicle by forcing the suspension, transmission torque converter and driveline to stay engaged.
At first I resisted, as I considered myself someone with a reasonable amount of off-road experience. But this was no regular off-road adventure and the other occupants in the vehicle were being tossed around by my poor technique. I was quickly convinced at how right he was.
For those of you still scoffing at the idea of driving with both feet, keep in mind that the newer Range Rovers have a Crawl mode, which automates the process we were being taught by electronically dragging the brakes to keep the vehicle stabilized. It was only after mastering these skills that I was able to tackle that one-metre rock face.
I’m not going to say that this adventure was a life-changing event for me, but it was darn close. I’ll definitely be applying the skills I learned, both on and off the road.
I would go back in a heartbeat, and should Cameron someday need another skilled technician for a large course, I’d be pleased to answer the call.
Editor’s note: An earlier version of this story stated Dale Webber Arnold was a retired Delta Force member. He was not.