• The Holcomb Creek Trail is rated Most Difficult even in dry conditions by the Forest Service 

(from Rick Russell's story).
• Greg writes: "The first half of the day was spent running 3N93 with about 9 very equipped vehicles.

(from Jim Cowling's story).

I haven't been to any involved wheeling lately; Pete Griffith called me last week and invited to join a night run in San Bernardino mountains. Two trails were to be done - Holcomb Creek and John Bull. I was happy to jump in the bandwagon!
In my turn, I called Lynn Reed, an FSJeeper from Fawnskin (right at the gate to fun), and we went out with him and my son Yuri.

The trailboss was Julio Monroy, of Inland Empire 4-Wheelers.  This was an IE4W's official club monthly beginner's run.

The run was fantastic. We joined the gang near the fire station in Fawnskin, at the north shore of Big Bear Lake.  It was a show on its own, 28 (?) rigs in a town of 300 people at night. Quite a few people brought their kids. Most of the rigs were baby jeeps, ranging from nearly stock YJ and TJ to a heavily built CJs with FSJ running gear and up to 38" meats. Two full-sizes, Pete Griffith's '82 4-door Cherokee (locked f&r, 3" lift, 32" BFG muds) and my '79 2-dr widetrack (wide open f&r, undetermined lift around 2-3", 33" BFG muds). One Bronco-II (built using jeep parts). Two pickups  - a Chevy and a Toyota. The chatter on CB was so much fun that we turned the stereo off for the rest of the ride.

Got to the trailhead (3N93, West off 3N16) around 930 p.m. The trail begins with a creek crossing (ankle deep) followed by a short, steep, deeply rutted hill covered with loose dirt. The party ground to a halt. Everyone made it up the hill, no straps broken out. Made for some serious air for some folks, for stock baby jeeps don't articulate very well, and the ruts were about 30" deep in places. Once before, I nearly landed my wife's Discovery on its side in a futile attempt to get through it. Pete Griffith just walked it up, making it look not much to brag about. A couple more hillclimbs, though nothing very difficult. Many tight turns, creek crossings, some requiring even the baby jeeps to practice the three-point turn. A few off-camber spots which could have been scary if one could see the drop-offs - but as the moon was still behind the ridge, it looked comfortable.

Some time around midnight we arrived to the Rock Garden. As we were closer to the rear of the convoy, we couldn't see what's up, just some excited remarks on CB indicated that we were up to something. After at least 20-minute wait I got my lazy butt out   of the driver's seat, grabbed a flashlight and headed down the trail afoot to see what's up.
It looked pretty nasty, I should say. A random scatter of rocks ranging from soccer size to four-foot boulders, mostly nicely rounded by the creek. The Rock Garden seemed to be about 150 ft. long, maybe a little more depending on what parts of it to count in. Three largest boulders were strategically placed near the end, one hungry for your drivers' door, and two others - for your hardware under the truck. A stock baby jeep seems to fit right between the rock on the left and one in the middle of the trail, but not the full size or wide-axle conversions. People gathered around, cheering and waving the flashlights. Two fellows seemed to be in charge of spotting, one at the entrance to the Garden and another - at the big rocks' place. Right after the big rocks there is a steep ledge to climb, about 2.5-3 ft tall and ~6 ft. long, covered with wet dirt. A few rigs have already made it past the spot,
others lined up behind. Loud bangs announced the passage of low-slung nearly stock rigs. "Bigg Dawgs" seemed to steer towards the rock in the middle and one at the right side of the trail, to earn more spectators' attention. It was a sure way to do it, for one nearly fell over the right rock, and another busted a U-joint in his right front driveshaft. No biggie, though, unlocked the hub, retreated to the original position, and took the "easy" route in 3WD. 

Our turn came; somehow, as there were stock rigs with judged below ace category drivers before and after us with Pete Griffith, we escaped most of the spotters' and spectators' attention, and were thus allowed to drive on our own. The most problem at this time was that the traffic had compressed to bumper-to-bumper; it gave some advantage for you could clearly see where not to go, but robbed the room for forward progress. I had difficulty finding a spot to park and yield way for Pete Griffith. In this fuss I haven't noticed Pete's progress to a point when he became high-centered on the middle rock. I think what happened was that as there was not enough room for the big Cherokee's axles, and driving with one side over the middle rock meant some serious tilt sideways, Pete opted for the middle route. I guess I was spared this fate due to even wider axles, allowing for more level ride. Behind Pete Griffith was that built Bronco-II that yanked him back off that rock, and Pete went through. The Bronco's driver put on a great show, driving rather elegantly over the two rocks on the right. Long live jeep solid axles! One built TJ wedged itself between two rocks, one front and one rear, and had to be pulled up. Of course, the tractor was a CJ-5 with a full size Cherokee running gear (360, TF727, NP208, and Dana 44s) :-)

At this point, both pickups bailed out; I didn't even see them on the trail before I saw their taillights moving in the opposite direction. The Chevy was said to be well-equipped, but for a stock brand spanking new Toyota pickup this spot meant some sure bodywork, with similar expectations for the drivetrain.

When the rest of our group made it past the Rock Garden (around 2 a.m.), the first half was already gone. Pete Griffith assumed the lead, and we went on. A few more creek crossings. Then, all of a sudden, my jeep needed a strap. The trail featured a rut that would accomodate the WV Beetle upside down (would make for nearly perfect pavement, shape-wise), and thus offered a choice of taking it to the left along a steep bank, or to the right, also with some off-camber, but in the direction opposite to a drop-off on the right side. In process, my left front tire started slowly slipping into the rut; as it was happening, the left rear tire was drooping out from the wheelwell to a point of losing traction. I ended up cross-axled to a degree when the left front tire was wedged between the fender flare and ground, at about 30 degree angle, and looked squeezed down to the rim (it was at ~10 psi). I couldn't even turn the wheels straight! The Bronco had to yank me back, which allowed the jeep to fall completely into the rut. That was a bit embarrassing, 'cause it must have been the only line not to take. My excuse still stands as follows - this was the first tiime I disconnected the sway bar, without having any other means to restrict articulation up front. Too much articulation proved to be just as bad as too little. Anyhow, the rut's left bank was just at the level of my shoulder, with the jeep being at about 30 degrees' bank, so Pete Griffith had to sit and bend down to me to direct me to the flatter grounds. 

After this little excitement, there was the last rocky section at the very end of 3N93, where "gravity sucks" the jeeps down to the pavement (woo-hoo!) without having to bust any hardware. Everybody parked there, completely jamming the "intersection," to figure out what to do next. Some folks, including Pete, went off to Dishpan Springs trail (I already feel jealous again). Most of the group, though, opted to bail out and head home. My junior crashed in his seat for more than 40 minutes already, and I didn't like him flopping around as the jeep bounced off the rocks. I felt okay, but I was barely able to make it back from Arrowbear to Fawnskin without falling asleep, so I think I made the right call. We'll do the other trails in some other time. What was a little bummer, we didn't make John Bull once again (there was not even mention about going to John Bull, as we went West on 3N93 and too far to get back in the middle of the night).

Lynn Reed kindly offered us some space in his yet unfihished home; as the alternative was pitching the tent on the asphalt at 3 a.m., we happily agreed and got a few hours of good sleep. 

The outcome of the trip ("lessons learned?") -
- for a moderately difficult trail like Holcomb Creek, a group of 28 vehicles means very slow progress. Someone made a remark on CB of this ride comparable to Rubicon on July 4th. Dusty, too, no doubt about it - it would be much nicer in winter, but I would think it would be even slower.
- I am yet to hit the trail which I couldn't make through without a locker. I don't count the case of getting stuck because of a stupid move.
- GPS is sure nice, but rather worthless in such a large gathering. You could see the trail from miles away, from all these headlights. On top of that, even at the base of windshield GPS doesn't get too many satellites, for skies are obstructed by the rocks and mountains. The roof-mounted antenna is in order.
- 3" lift doesn't completely clear 33" tires on a widetrack fullsize Cherokee (or, J-truck, for that matter). Tires rub practically everywhere, though not too bad. Nevertheless, I had a feeling I would have a very hard time getting through with my old 31" All-Terrains. Somebody made it with these tires in a TJ, but for a large beast like a FS Jeep it would make life miserable.
- under-fender "rock lights" have more value than headlights on these trails; low-aimed fog lights work very good, too. I found them to help me a lot when I couldn't decide which line to take otherwise. Oh yeah, I didn't have them on when I got stuck!

The after-trip observation: bodywork done with a sledgehammer at 10 p.m. on Sunday doesn't help improve relations with the neighbors, even if successful. They won't really appreciate your skill.

Okay, that's it - will come up with some video clips as soon as I get it digitized!

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