Vrrrrummmhhh. Vruuuuuumhhhh. One after the other they came. Vruuuuuummmphhh. With engines at a low hum and piles of small rock and dust billowing towards the sky. I started counting after three, subconsciously keeping track. It was a string of twelve off-road vehicles. Most of the extremely noisy machines were the standard Jeep Wrangler model souped up with some four-wheel drive modifications, but also a few large black Suburbans jacked-up with enough clearance to run over a coyote without touching its hide, and even some random American four wheel drive trucks.

The chain of grinding pistons and crunching gravel made such a disruptive commotion in the tranquil valley that I was startled - as if from a peaceful dream, to the reality of a Monday morning alarm clock. What where they doing? I had never witnessed so many 4-wheelers driving that close to each other - with that much dust going straight into the windshield of the person driving behind them. It was bizarre. One after another they pulled up around the bend in the dirt road.




Or maybe I was just not privy to the 4-wheel drive scene . . . they were not too fond of us, a hippy and an Asian- American rolling past them in a Volvo All Wheel Drive. When we informed them that we planned on taking it over the summit of the Panamints looming ahead, their surprised looks did not add to our confidence level.

But it was one of their vehicles that needed to fix a flat - not ours, so on past the line of gas-hogging, noise-making, peace-disrupting, human-carrying machines and out of the flat valley we continued our journey. We headed towards darker clouds and snowy heights.

ER Harris