Please Support Our Sponsors!
Vegas...vacation?

ROCKCRAWLER

Story by Rick Jones and Carlos Diaz

It started as a simple enough concept. Trade an FJ-40 for a Trooper. Simple? Not quite!

It started out so simple!

.The story begins in Uvalde, Texas. My friend Brian had arrived from Las Vegas for a short visit. I was looking for a 4X4 to buy and Brian was looking to sell his 1969 FJ40. Brian and I made a deal on the FJ40. So Brian, my friend Carlos, and I were going to trailer Brian's Isuzu Trooper back to Vegas. Once there Carlos and I were going to trailer the FJ40 back to Texas. Carlos had never been to Las Vegas, so he was just coming along for the ride.

.The trip to Las Vegas was uneventful. We did stop along the way to see a few sites. Carlos had never been to the Grand Canyon, so we took a little side trip en route to Las Vegas. While in Vegas, Brian was the perfect host and showed us the sites.

.While still in Vegas, Brian took Carlos and I for a ride in the Land Cruiser to the hills around his house. It didn't take long to realize that the Land Cruiser is a very capable 4X4. After driving to the top of a very jagged, long, and steep hill (from which one can see all of Henderson and Las Vegas not to mention the desert beyond) Brian decided to let Carlos take over at the wheel and bring us down the hill. Carlos quickly admitted that he had never been behind the wheel of any 4X4 much less one in the situation this particular 4X4 was in at the moment. Brian and I offered some advise on how to bring a vehicle down a steep hill. The one thing that stuck in Carlos' mind was not to use the brakes. So trying hard not to show his fear, Carlos started down the hill. This is when it became obvious that the one thing we failed to make clear was letting the clutch out, thus allowing engine compression to slow us down. So down the hill we bounced, clutch fully depressed, brakes untouched, screaming our heads off. We survived.

.After a couple of days in Las Vegas, it was time to make the trek back to Texas.

Get Your Kicks...On Route 66

Rick and Carlos.After leaving Henderson, the first thing I did was a brake check about a ½ mile from Brian's house when a lady decided to pull into my lane and stop a block before the red light. Applying pressure firmly and quickly, all four wheels did lock up as expected when pulling a 4000 lb. load on a 18' trailer with no brakes. Luckily the Land Cruiser stayed put and didn't show her at that time how stupid she was for doing that. I reserved that for my middle finger when she looked at us for the origin of the noise.

.Anyway, the trip continued on to Kingman, AZ with only minor overheating problems. We stopped a few times to let things cool off but nothing serious as of yet. We were taking our time and not pushing things, just enjoying the drive. We stopped at Nothing, AZ since the truck overheating idiot light was on. With only 4 people in that town, ya have to know that gene pool is too shallow. So after 1½ hours in this fine community, we were ready to continue, stopping in Wickenburg for a "fine home cooked meal," as advertised, not sure which home, but I don't want to visit there again. The roof of my mouth is just finishing healing from the bread of the sandwich cutting into it. On to Phoenix.

Carlos! Don't you watch "Cops"?

.Phoenix wasn't bad except the stop and go traffic was playing hell on my truck and, soon to be announced, my transmission. About 40 miles out of Phoenix the truck started fogging the Schneider (name of trucking company that doesn't speed ) lane as was witnessed by me in the side view mirror. I then took my foot off the accelerator and slowed to a stop, noting that I was being chased by a small rolling object, soon to be identified as an extremely HOT Governor cover for my 700R4 Transmission, also used to hold in vital transmission fluid, which was donated to the Arizona I-10 roadway.

.So after stopping and identifying the problem, I realized that we were 16 miles from help and 6 feet from Hell; help being Casa Grande, AZ. Ha, was that a mistake, one of many to be made or witnessed for the next few days. An Arizona Highway Patrol stopped behind us and we explained the situation and he made the announcement on his radio which we heard on the scanner that we were on the road waiting for our vehicle to cool down and things were fine.

.20 minutes later, 2 Arizona Highway troopers who were obviously not listening to the radio broadcast earlier stopped behind us as I was trying to make contact with my friend Ben in Uvalde, TX via HF Radio on the top of the hour. Carlos saw no problem in walking up to the troopers with his right hand in his pocket and as the primary trooper grabbed for his gun, Carlos then realized his mistake and removed his hand from his pocket very slowly making everybody a little happier. So, with everybody friends now, the troopers informed us that they needed to send a tow truck to remove us from the shoulder, but by going through them we are to have reasonable rates and a maximum 40 minute response time.

.An hour and 20 minutes later a tow truck arrives, but this was okay since in that time we decided to unload the Land Cruiser from the trailer. Remembering that ramps were unavailable we were sure the Land Cruiser could just drive off, which it might have, providing the battery was charged. yet another problem. We pushed the Land Cruiser off the trailer and then to the side of the trailer and truck. This is when we noticed that the shoulder was made up of very small rocks that allowed us to get hernia damage while pushing this beast to the front of the truck so the jumper cables would reach. We started the Land Cruiser and hooked the trailer up to it, WOW, the Toyota is wired for the trailer, are the Gods smiling on us?? Not sure, but they had to be laughing about now.

.Now the tow truck is onsite and it's a really nice tow truck. I worry. He introduces himself and we explain the problem--the transmission is in need of repair. He explains that Casa Grande is 16 miles away and they can fix it there. I ask how much, he says $55.00 to hook it up. I think that the troopers were right, this guy is reasonable, then he tells me plus $2.50 a mile plus I have to pay for the miles he has already driven, we negotiate to a price of $120.00 plus tax . Tax on what, I don't know, but anyway. This "gentleman" then loads my truck and tells me to follow him. Now if you don't remember, the Land Cruiser is hooked to a trailer and also make note, the 33" tires still only have 12lbs of air pressure from the playing that we did on the rocks in Henderson the day before! Can you say "driving on sponges"? Well, I'm not afraid, but poor Carlos is showing concern by indenting the roll bar with his handprint. At 3300 rpm I calculated our speed to be about 70 mph, flowing with normal traffic; unfortunately Mr. Tow Truck has left us WAY behind. I do believe he exceeded the posted speed limit.

Guns, Shady Characters and Casa Grande (The Big House)

.We get to the Casa Grande exit and the Land Cruiser dies. Remember, the battery is dead. Since the exit ramp is going uphill we decide to let it roll backwards and pop the clutch in reverse. Now we notice we have an audience piling up behind us on the exit ramp, Carlos explains to them by waving ferociously, if they don't back up nobody goes anywhere. They back up, I pop the clutch and off we go. Tow truck guy slowed to the side realizing he has not gotten paid. He then proceeds to PepBoys.

.Guess who does not work on Transmissions?? After removing my truck and sadly parting with almost $140.00, we rack our brains with what to do next. A grungy, grubby, hairy, big, smelly, nasty, unshaven, nice guy offers to introduce me to his honest mechanic. I'm grasping for straws so I put my 38cal. in my pants and go with him telling Carlos I will be right back.

.Carlos has time to ponder-"gee, I didn't even get the license plate, a good description, and what if the guy comes back without Rick? Do I go with him? Hold him for the police? I've found Rick's 9mm but don't know how to use it. I'll put it back. But wait, I'll wipe my finger prints off of it then I'll put it back. Hmmm, how long should I wait before I call the police? I wonder if Rick would mind if I get a quick bite to eat while he's off with that grungy, grubby, hairy, big, smelly, nasty, unshaven, nice guy getting tortured to death?--the thoughts go on . . ."

.I do come back and the honest mechanic wants $750.00 to repair my transmission. Time for us to find a place to sleep and call Ben. He suggests that I leave the truck and bring the trailer to El Paso to park at his brother-in-law's. Fine, I want out of Casa Grande. I want to go home. Carlos makes the suggestion that since we might need the money, let's just stay in the Land Cruiser and save hotel money. He asks a Casa Grande citizen for a park in the area and was told of Picacho State park about 10 miles east on I-10. What he failed to tell us was that was 10 miles from 12 miles outside of Casa Grande.

.With 12 lbs. of pressure still in the tires and pulling the empty trailer, we trek out to find a refuge to sleep. 16 miles out we spot a sign with Picacho on it and we smile in order to communicate our pleasure mainly because we can't talk due to the rushing of air in the open top Land Cruiser with 33" mud tires. Then we see it says "State Prison" right below it-- "Don't pick up hitchhikers"-- the smiles disappear from both our faces!

Sleep Tight...Hey! Those Aren't Pillows!

Carlos and the Trailer.A few miles later we see the state park sign. Carlos pays our $9.00 fee then we settle down for the night. It's 2:00 am and at 4:00 a.m. we decide sleep is in order, so I tell Carlos to shut up and sleep. I came to the conclusion that Vette seats were not made for sleeping and I moved to the trailer after trying the bed of the Land Cruiser. Also not a good idea. I lie down with a .38 in my pocket and a 9mm under my pillow with my hand on it, aiming away from Carlos and myself , just in case. Carlos decides to join me on the trailer with his miniature blankie. He doesn't want to share my large blanket thinking that hypothermia is better than being considered homosexual by campers or escaped convicts. I don't argue this thought, so he lays down on the evidence that it truly was 108 degrees and hot enough to make the sap come out of the trailer floor. He sticks down for the night and doesn't even question what he's sticking to; he just needs sleep.

. I wake first and see Carlos has managed to make himself into a very small ball in order to fit entirely under his blanket. But he's moving, so it's good he's still alive to endure this with me. The current temperature is about 40 degrees. Damn would his wife be pissed. Since we can see across the valley with the present light, I ask him if it's time to begin the day. "Yes," he say's as he unsticks himself from the trailer, leaving on the trailer every single hair on the right side of his right arm and leg. He's ready. I don't think he really was comfortable.

Go Back? Do We Have To?

.We travel down to take care of morning business in the cold desert and the superb facilities provided by Rubbermaid and return to the Land Cruiser and trailer. I ask what time is it and he responds by helping my day turn to shit with his shouting "5:45am"...Fudge (well not really) !!! We slept for about and hour and a half. and now were wide awake again. Oh well, we pack up and find out that the battery is dead. Damn !!! Oh, we have a small hill downward, push, and then nothing, the Land Cruiser wants to be choked. I'm not sure, but I think Carlos might want to choke me about now, but this was not on the itinerary. I choke the Land Cruiser next then we get it started and back to Casa Grande. No license plates, no insurance, no permission to be back in the state (Oh yeah, that's another story). Hmmm, "What, me worry?"

Want To Buy A Car? Cheap?

.We get back to Casa Grande and check on the truck. It's still there, this time with two accessories, about 6' 2" males. I step up and they too are stranded, blown Head Gasket. The tow truck driver brought them here also. They are nice enough to offer to sell us their car for money to get home in a rental car, we politely decline the offer, but in return offer them the name and number of an honest mechanic.

.We are now off to breakfast at the golden arches. What else would be open at 6:30 am? We dine in silence and come up with an idea. "Get a rental vehicle and tow my truck back on the trailer and drive the Land Cruiser back to Uvalde." Good idea, now to put this plan in to effect. I notice this suspicious guy eyeballin' me several times and I decide to let him go. I have enough problems if you can believe that.

.I then proceed to the phones to call Enterprise, Budget, Hertz, A-1, Avis, Dollar, Penski, Ryder and U-haul. Nobody has a truck in Casa Grande, Tucson, or Phoenix that can go outside the state, but there is one in Flagstaff and they can have it to me in two days. Okay, good idea, no cooperation.

.As Carlos is checking the fluid levels in the Cruiser, the aforementioned suspicious guy visits him. I'm 25 yards away, but pretty sure I can take him out if necessary. Carlos is hoping this also. After a brief conversation the unwanted visitor leaves, I ask Carlos, "What did he want?" He replies, to sell his car, an old Pontiac for $250.00, because "he needs money to get out of town so he won't have to do time." So before 7:30 am we have had an opportunity to purchase two vehicles. Where the Hell are we??

Boogie Back To Texas

.Okay, new plan. We decide to leave the truck in Casa Grande, drive back to Texas and come back with another truck to tow back the first truck. We air up the tires on the Land Cruiser and go back to the truck, the manager at Pepboys offers a new honest mechanic that is reasonable. I worry again. I call this mechanic and he wants to tow the truck to his shop and he won't charge me for the tow if his shop does the work. Hmm, sounds like another $55.00 plus $2.50 a mile trip to me. I ask, "What's it gonna cost to rebuild a 700R4 tranny," he replies, "$950.00," but he's gonna make me a deal for $875.00. I thank him, make the motion of getting my eyes poked out at Carlos and deny the tow. Poking Eyes

.The manager at Pepboys allows us to leave the truck in the parking lot, with the suggestion to move it to the front of the store from the side since it's lit better. Well, except at night when they turn off the lights, as we found out a week later, leaving my truck in total cover of darkness. Anyway, we need to get the Land Cruiser legal enough to get out of the state so we go to the License Bureau in hopes of getting a temporary registration.

.The woman at the license and registration office puts me a step closer to hell. She can't make a call on her own and she asks for my license, then she asks for a supervisor. Now, this is the first time anybody has asked for my identification in AZ (I'm not supposed to be here - part of that other story). I worry. Carlos won't be associated with me, especially since I have two firearms in my possession in the registration office. Carlos is thinking, "lucky I wiped my fingerprints off the gun last night. I can claim ignorance." After me kissing her ass for an hour and Carlos making one last final plea she decides to let me pay the pittance sum of $15.00 and have a temporary 30 day permit. They inspect the vehicle for something, not sure what, wasn't safety and let me have the license. We're off to Texas.

Well...Maybe Not Quite "Boogie"

.We stop to get a new shirt without sleeves (because it's already getting extremely hot) and call Ben to let him know we're on our way. He now recommends that I leave the trailer so we don't have to drag it back from El Paso. Good idea and my idea to begin with. I agree and we go back to Pep Boys and unhook the trailer, drag it closer to a lamppost in 108 degree heat, (it didn't seem that hot at first, you know, dry heat and all) the metal is very hot on the trailer. I think I see a tear from Carlos. It seems that metal doesn't know about dry heat. We unhook and use the really big chain to secure the trailer to the lamppost , I try to lock the chain with the lock from the spare tire; it's too small. Damn!! Okay, I go and buy a larger lock, lock the chain and we tell the manager of our plan. He grimaces and highly recommends that we don't leave that nice trailer because it will be gone by sundown and on the Indian reservation. He suggests a storage facility, sounds good, where? Next to Wal-Mart, guess where we have just came from?

.So with the metal still nice and hot for us we reload the trailer on the LC and back down Main St. to the storage lot. The gate is open so I drive in. The lady meets us in the lot and informs us they are not open. Carlos and I look at each other realizing it's 11:30, thinking that this place is really laid back, we ask her when she opens and she replies "July 7th ." She doesn't have a license to store yet. I ask her just for a spot along the inside of the fence and she refuses since she might not ever get opened due to city laws if she stores things without a license. We ask her for directions to another storage place. She doesn't know.

.You would think someone that opened a storage facility would do some research, guess she didn't. We go to several places that are park and lock that I didn't trust. We decide to get some more addresses. Carlos rips out the storage facilities pages of the phone book to save time, normally this would have been a good idea, but since we only knew where two streets were, this did us no good whatsoever. We do, however, have a list of places to try. We stop and ask a clerk for directions to one of the places and she points for us, on our way we see a fenced lot and the sign says BZ TV Repair and Storage, not the place we were looking for but good enough. After convincing BZ that just because we look like crap doesn't mean we stole the trailer. He allows us to leave it for a reasonable price. He does however tell us the quickest way out of town. We take it.

Get The Hell Out Of Dodge!

.After leaving town and getting on I-8 back to I-10 we see a sign that reads, "Welcome to Casa Grande." We both yell. It's just the outskirts, must be funded by stranded motorists, not shit out there. We're off to Texas in the Land Cruiser with the bikini top and no doors. Damn, we're cool.

.To simulate this feeling I would like you to go get a hairdryer and turn it on high and point it into your face, that's part of the experience, now imagine Tropical Blend sunblock on and blowing dust. Are we having fun yet?? The rest is about like that for the next 400 miles, till we reach El Paso and the sun is long gone and West Texas gets downright cold with no sun shining.

.We called Ben and give a status report. We decided to get a burger at a 24 hour filling station/café. The 24 hour café was, in fact, open 24 hours a day. They just didn't serve meals 24 hours a day. Right, no burger, just a damn muffin.

.Anyway Ben says it's raining. We prepare. I get RainX for the windows since no wiper blades are available and I think it might be a good idea to get inexpensive raincoats. Turned out not to be a good idea.

Hey Rick...Hey! Rick! YO! RICK!!!

.I decided to get some sleep while Carlos drove. The only problem was that Carlos was scaring the hell out of me letting the ruts in the road swing us toward oncoming 18 wheelers. I just couldn't sleep. I offer to drive. He gladly accepts.

.Just outside Fort Stockton it starts to rain and we put on our inexpensive poncho raincoats-mistake--they pop so loud in the 70 mph wind that it about deafens us plus they rip into pieces at those speeds. We get wet. We're both very tired having driven for almost 24 hours and being up for almost 36 hours with an hour and a half of sleep.

Rick and the FJ.The morning light wakes Carlos just in time to find me driving about 70 miles an hour in the hills of west Texas with my eyes closed. Just resting my eyes. Carlos is wide awake now. We worry, we're gonna crash on the Del Rio road in the hills just 90 miles from our destination.

.Finally, we make it home. I drop off Carlos and head to Ben's to tell him to quit worrying, we made it back. Ben is gone-so much for worrying

.I go home to take a shower and worry that I'm melting since the water is brown. Once it clears up and now that I'm wide awake at 10:30 in the morning, there's nobody's home to tell my story to, I'm bored. I finally fall asleep about 6:00 pm and everybody gets home at 6:30 and wants to discuss my trip. I'm glad to be home. Two weeks later, Ben and I make the trip back with virtually no incidents at all.

.I'm glad to be home, but looking forward to the trip back to Vegas and Red Rocks, I know the Land Cruiser can make it.


We're looking for contributors. Have a camera? Have a pen? How about writing some trail reports or columns for ROCKCRAWLER. Get info Here!

ROCKCRAWLER

All content Copyright © 1998 ROCKCRAWLER