Driving in was easy. Say 'Hi' to a couple of ATV'ers unloading, lock 'em up, and churn through a foot of snow over some easy rises. Like giant whoop-de-doo's, these rises step up to the top of the hill. Now look down. One big drop to the bottom. It's intimidating.

Someone yelled over the CB, "Let's take the go-around!" Now, normally, this would be the easy way, the way for the faint of heart or rock-challenged. Not today, though. Today that little drop-off, the one that is a minor tip-n-tilt obstacle on the way up and out, seems even worse than the one-big-sleigh-ride main hill. So of course we went for it.

Once you make the left onto the go-around trail there's no going back. Too steep and too narrow to turn around. Don't try to use too much brake on icy rock, just let gravity drag you down. Let the gears keep the speed to a manageable level and steer through it. Hey, tipping isn't so bad, it only lasts a second at this speed. Not too much bouncing either, the snow seems to smooth out the way. And the front tires dig in just fine for the sharp right near the bottom. Not bad at all.

Five of us, all double-locked, my 33" Swampers the smallest in the group, are fighting through the Junkyard Trail in January. "Bearclaw" Evan trailered in a CJ that rescued Howler from perennial Ugly Truck winner status. 3 YJ's were there; Willie trailered his, Mike flat-towed and Big Mark drove in. Howler, the only non-Jeep, drove me in.

The go-around leads to a side trail. Only Willie & Evan tried the section that ate Mike's axle last time through. I skipped that because I remembered how tight it was. The next bit was one I'd never seen before, a left in front of a wreck - this is the Junkyard Trail, remember - leads to an uphill. By chance, the line stopped with me by the wreck, so I led going up the hill.

This was my first shot a breaking the snow trail. Besides being very difficult to see where the trail is, it took a lot of backing and running to make headway. Sometimes wheelspin works, sometimes crawling and letting the tire knobs bite in works. Eventually, we reached a rock garden with a stream running under it. The end of the garden is marked by a 4 foot rock which Mike promptly climbed. Well half way. But really, getting the fronts tires up there was incredible. Rock crawling in the snow!

Mike had amazing traction all day. He was running only 2 psi, and hoping it was enough to keep from popping off the bead, in huge 35x13 Boggers. Not quite go-wherever-you-want traction, but way grippier than anyone else.

Evan played, with some success, in the garden, so I tried it too. Not much grip, and Howler slipped sideways a bit, dropped in a hole and hung the rear diff on a rock. I was able to winch myself free, Howler only had to move a foot or so. But since I slipped off line, I could not move forward much. Reversing would put me back in the hole. Willy drove down the hill to winch me sideways.

That went well, but Willy had trouble getting get back up the hill. Mike noticed that one of Willie's front brake lines had broken free. The first break of the day was easy to tie wrap into submission. It wouldn't have been if left alone to catch a fan blade.

So Willie went back to trying to power his way up the hill. Eventually he gave up and took the hook. But not before making the hill good and slick. Howler tried to back up the hill but only succeeded in playing V8 music. Out came the cable again.

I wound up at the head of the line again as we headed back to the go-around when Willie had tire trouble. We headed up hill, just past the VW corpse, where the Corvair sits in the stream. Junkyard Trail, remember? Traction disapeared quickly; I wound up winching the whole way. Everyone else drove up.

Next we headed downhill, then up again towards the gas works. Nobody got very far, me least of all. Time for new tires, eh. Back on track, we set course towards the water hole. This section of the trail has a few obstacles and we played until Willie popped another tire. OK, it's 2 o'clock, we're stalled; lunch time.

After lunch, Mark and I struggled to keep up until we found the secret. Lots of wheel speed and as much true velocity as possible keeps you moving. Even uphill, even where the others have chewed up the snow trail. Eventually the group realized we're not going to make the whole trail and headed back.

As we turned around, Mike played monster truck and climbed one of the wrecks. Mark made his U-turn  between a washing machine and a bus tire. Junkyard Trail.

Everyone had trouble climbing the hill we came down so easily. Howler put on a tire spinning horsepower show until the t-case jumped into neutral. No problem, though, and we made our way back to the big hill by the go-around.

Evan went first, doing well until the slope got too steep, about three quarters of the way up. It took a while to find something to hook the winch to, and more time to winch up. Repeat that a few times and most of us are up the hill. My attempts were fun, exciting, but futile. On the last try I had trouble steering. When I looked out the window and saw the left front tire laying almost flat on the ground I knew why, and thought the worse. Using Mike's air to save some time, we fixed what was judged to be a majorly flat tire. Actually, there was also a bent rim. Hindsight sees a tweaked tie rod also.

Mike, who had already driven up the hill, and I took the go-around. Now the real fun begins. Rounding the last turn before heading uphill again, I see Mike stopped just past that minor tip-n-tilt obstacle. I slowed, hoping to climb the rock and stop just behind Mike. No luck. A couple more tries yields another tire off and, uh-oh, wheels pointing in different directions. And the left front lost drive power too. Evan helped me fix the tire & let me help him swap the tie rod.

While I'm packing up, Willie drives down the hill in the dark to see what's up. He knows, now, to use the CB next time. Willie had trouble climbing back up, and so, of course, did I. So Evan had Willie winch himself up, dragging my cable, free-spooling, with him. When Willie stops, I winch, then we run Willie's cable out, hook up and repeat. That worked well until the turn in the trail. Willie followed the cable straight up the embankment. He stopped when his right side tires were about four feet higher than the lefts. Serious lean here, both sideways and fore-aft. The next manouever went wrong. A simple turn of the steering wheel and the YJ slowly tipped onto it's side.

Evan re-routed my winch cable through a snatch block hung on a nearby tree so we could yank Willie upright. Eventually we got the YJ up the hill. Mike pulled the crippled Scout all the way out, dogging Willie most of the way.

Once up onto his trailer, we saw the reason for Willie's cautious driving style; a pair of broken center pins let his front axle drift rearward on the spring. We all made it out, all made it home.

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