Snerkology

Okay! Picking up where part one left off.

Bill and I were super eager to see how the Jeep would handle more challenging terrain. Back when we had a Bronco, we took the kids out for the day and traversed part of Four Peaks Road, so we got the idea to head that way again with the Jeep. Four Peaks is part of the Mazatzal Mountains and is located in the Tonto National Forest, about a 45 minute drive from our house. The road bisects the mountain range between Highway 87 and Highway 188, and is only suitable for four wheel drive vehicles. It traverses various stages of desert landscape, and there are some pretty incredible views all along the road and at the peak. Plus, it has the added benefit of being BLM land, which meant that we could take our various Zombie Apocalypse weaponry out for target practice and not be looked at strangely. Or tackled by law enforcement.

Once again we set out at a reasonable-ish hour (this was Sunday January 9th for those of you following along at home). We filled up at the gas station, and stopped at a convenience store to get ice and beverages for the cooler. Plus Road Trip Snackin’(tm) consisting of Oreo cookies, Pringles, and Gardetto’s snack mix. We were heading out into The! Wilderness! after all. Who knows what could happen? We might have to LIVE off of those snacks for DAYS. Okay, I exaggerate, but HOURS maybe. MINUTES.

More after the jump, so this photo-heavy entry doesn’t bog down the main page:

Thus prepared, we took the Loop 202/Red Mountain Freeway to State Highway 87 (the”Beeline”). Four Peaks, almost always visible from throughout the valley, was hazy in the distance but becoming clearer the closer we got.

(Click all the photos to embiggen. Most of the photos in this entry are straight out of the camera, because the last thing I wanted to do after all the pictures I took in Prescott and during our Four Peaks adventure was sit at the computer for a hundred hours, post-processing.)

After about 45 minutes we reached the turn off from highway 87 and onto the dirt of Four Peaks Road. The first few miles of the road were relatively smooth – certainly our low-slung Trailblazer would have no problem navigating it. The area was pretty heavily populated with weekend ATV-ers and other adventurers, everyone tossing up a hand or nodding as we passed each other in the narrower parts. After a bit, the road became less crowded, and the desert scenery opened up to us.

As the road got steeper and more rutted, I got more and more giggly. Presently we were being bounced around pretty enthusiastically, and I was cackling like a madwoman and having the time of my life. Once or twice Bill asked me if I wanted to drive. My response was, “You don’t like the way I drive on pavement. Just how long do you think you could tolerate this road from the passenger seat?” He saw my point and drove the whole day.

After a while we came upon the very spot that we had taken the kids to so many years ago. We parked and grabbed our weapons of choice (LOTS of wildlife in the area, and several wildcat spottings). He grabbed one of the rifles, I strapped on my .22, and then we hiked for a bit.

After a bit we heard voices and motors, which turned out to be a bevy of ATV-ers converging on our spot for lunch. Since you never really know WHO you’re going to come across out in the middle of nowhere, we headed back to the Jeep. After all, it could be a gang of hoodies thinking it would be amusing to knife the tires and make the poor unsuspecting Jeep owners hike back to the main road. It’s not unheard of, unfortunately. When we came back to the clearing we discovered a half-dozen men out enjoying the scenery and weather and packed lunches, with nary a hoodie in sight. I had an amusing moment watching their reactions as we came strolling out of the woods, armed to the teeth with guns and a camera. We all nodded civilly, Bill and I stowed our stuff, and we hopped back in the Jeep and continued on our way.

At this point we made the decision to keep going to the other end of Four Peaks road, out where it exits near Roosevelt Lake, rather than turn around and head back the way we came. I’d never gone so far before, and it had been years since Bill had done it. With the whole afternoon stretched before us, and a handy Jeep at our disposal, we were in the mood for a little adventure. The whole road from end to end is only 28 miles, but it takes a considerable amount of time to cross due to the terrain.

Toward the very peak of the road (which skirted alongside the peak of Four Peaks), things got extremely narrow, quite muddy and slick, and a bit icy. Fortunately, there was very little traffic up this high. One time we got caught behind an ATV-er that was momentarily stuck in the middle of the road, and another time we encountered a pair of ATV’s coming from the other direction that had to squeeeeeeze past us, with us being on the cliff-side of the arrangement. But that was the extent of any sort of squirrleyness.

After we crossed over “the other side of the mountain” (and OH how that got stuck in my head), we started seeing glimpses of water far, far below us. That water turned out to be Roosevelt Lake, which is enjoying a particularly high water level at this time.

We finally found a likely spot for some target shooting, so we pulled off at a handy lookout. NOTE: no animals were harmed in the making of this blog post. Indeed, a small herd of nearby cows couldn’t have cared less that we were target practicing nearby. They never would have made it in the Old West. Anyway, we were careful to find a spot that had a backing (in this case, a lower embankment from where we were standing) so that our shots wouldn’t travel further than we intended them to. Trust me when I say that firearms safety was DRILLED into Bill’s head from an early age, and he has subsequently DRILLED it into mine.

Bill’s weapons of choice made big-boy KA-POOOM(oom)(oom)! noisy goodness, while my little .22 disturbed the peace far less with it’s happy little crack. I’ve dubbed it the Noisy Cricket. It was the first time I’d been able to fire my Walther P22 since purchasing it back in October, and Bill’s first time firing the Sig. Indeed, it was only the third or fourth time I’d shot a weapon of any kind. Now that I have a gun that feels WAY comfortable in my hand (more so than my 9mm), I’m going to want to practice as often as possible. Because people? That shit is FUN.

After about an hour we packed up the weapons, scoured the ground for shell casings (leave the land as you found it!), hopped back in the Jeep, and proceeded the rest of the way down the mountain and out onto Highway 188. We drove north where it intersects Highway 87, then drove back down south and picked up the freeway back towards home. From the time we left the house until the time we made it back home was about six hours total.

We had an absolute BLAST, and the experience pretty much solidified our plans to get a Jeep of our own in the very, very near future. We sprayed off the majority of the mud but I didn’t get a chance to get the Jeep washed before I turned it back in when I picked up the Trailblazer. The rental guy looked at it for a second, then said, “I would have done exactly the same thing. Looks like you guys had fun!”

Oh yes, we did.

(I wrote an article for UpTake if you’re interested, though more detail is contained in this entry anyway. I’m all about pimping. Pimp pimp pimp.)