THE HALF-PIPE 4/22/08

The trail evens out at the top of the shelf. We reach an expanse of sand. We switch our the LR3’s Terrain Response setting to Sand Mode, which allows for sure-footed acceleration and superior control over the slippery, finely-grained trail surface.

We reach another section of medium-sized boulders, lined up in front of us in step-like shelves. It’s intense. Gripping the wheel, I look to our guides for instruction. Burns directs me, finding a good path in the rock—a “line” as he calls it. I ease the vehicle up and over the shelf, setting it down gently—riding up the face of the rock like a living, breathing creature.

This is the amazing part about these vehicles. You look outside, you look up and forward, you see these rocks in front of you—and you can’t believe it’s crossable. You simply cannot believe it. But the Land Rover moves up and over, assuredly, carefully, effortlessly, softly.

And then we’re at one of the most exhilarating portions of the drive. A thin, V-shaped cleft in the rock, like the trough of an ocean wave. There’s only enough room for our vehicle’s wheels to balance on their outer rims. I move forward. Cautiously. Burns stands in front of the LR3, points the way. And with only the outer rims making contact, the Land Rover makes its way through the cleft—makes it way through and up the rock.

And then we’re at the top. We reach a little bluff of rounded rock that opens into a steep canyon—an archway, though which we can see the Colorado running far, far below. We stop for lunch. Pita gyros with grilled chicken and vegetables. Fruit for dessert. And plenty of water.