Royal Blue WMA, TN
March 6-8, 1998
By Eric Herrin with photography by Mike McKenna and Stefan Roth

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Shortly after Sam Houston sold his Sammy to my buddy Mike McKenna, I began corresponding with Sam since we were doing very similar TJ buildups. While discussing ARBs and R/P changes, Sam invited us to join the Southern Four Wheel Drive Association at their meeting 30 miles north of Knoxville, TN. Sam made it sound like a really nice trip with good folks, so we decided to attend. We invited a friend from work, Christian, to tag along. [See Sam Houston's report on the event also]

Mike, Christian, and I arrived Friday evening. Since we didn't really know anyone yet, we proceeded to check into the motel and grab a bite to eat. It was clear this wasn't a meeting of mall-shopping SUVs; there were at least a dozen trailers with serious-looking rigs from several states.

The next morning, no one seemed to know when things started, so we sat around and waited until people lined up for the runs. We simply fell in line, not knowing who we were with or where we were going. There were six vehicles in our line and we were supposed to be back around 4pm. Little did we know this was to be a twelve hour adventure.

The leader took a while to find a trail since the trail we were supposed to run was closed. After some time, we finally found an open one. The first thing I noticed about this area was the very low canopy. Tree branches scraped across the hood like fingernails on a chalkboard.

About fifteen minutes into the trail, we started encountering the gumbo. Since it was raining, the mud was becoming quite soupy as well. The ruts were filling with water, and you couldn't tell how deep they were. You really don't realize how little traction there is until you step out of your Jeep and have to dig mud out of your back pockets and hair.

We finally came across something that looked mildly attention-getting: a really deep gumbo-filled rut on a downhill. Most of the vehicles had clearance to ride the rut, but Mike attempted to straddle it because the Sammy didn't.

With very little traction, the Sammy ended up sliding into the rut. We decided this was a perfect photo opportunity, so Mike just relaxed in the driver's seat while we all ran around taking pictures. Notice how the nerf prevented the vehicle from rolling. By the way, that's me in the red flannel jacket and our trail leader with the cool hat.

The next obstacle was a long, winding ditch with ruts on the right that switched to the left around a curve. The rut was actually deeper than the pictures show because they are filled with water. We were pretty much riding along on our sidewalls.

Finally, it's lunch time. We stop and chat, then realize we're with Stefan Roth, the fellow whose name is at the top of all those offroad mailing list digests we've been getting for so long. Mike chats a bit with Stefan as I fill my stomach with beanie weenies and vinegar potato chips. Mike brought the potato chips, and everyone thought they were nastily addictive. Mike and I have been eating those things on special occasions since we ended up once in DC's red-light district... but that's another story.

So, after lunch, we decided to explore a bit more instead of heading back to the motel. We came across a medium-sized mud hill with a small line of vehicles waiting to conquer it. Stefan and the trail leader gave it a shot and made it halfway. That hill was obviously very slick.

From there, we continued through more mud than my air filter knew existed (yes, I even had mud in my filter box). Here's a picture of me in a big mud hole.

I turned a corner and saw Stefan with his front wheels on a step that reminded me of a certain place in Moab, but with no traction. We all ended up bypassing this one, but we stayed around to watch a YJ in another group power his way up it. Everyone was giggling that he would break an axle, but he didn't.

Around 3pm, we decided to start back. The problem was that the trail leader couldn't figure out how to get back! Of course, I didn't have my GPS turned on and neither did anyone else. As our surroundings became darker, our leader called to get directions. After a few hours, we were on the right track. We must have turned around eight times, but we always found new and interesting obstacles along the way. Unfortunately, darkness was upon us and Stefan was in a hurry to get back to the meeting because he is the president of the SFWDA. No time for pictures at this point.

The mud became slicker. The forest became thicker, pitch black, and foggy. We hit a couple places that became slicker as each vehicle blasted through the path. The trail wound sideways along a hill and there was little traction, so getting through the trees was sometimes a real challenge. There was one place similar to the large rut we saw earlier, but it was on a relatively steep uphill. The winches were out several times near the end of the evening. By the time we made it down the hill, the SFWDA meeting was half over. We were all covered in mud from head to toe, and our vehicles certainly matched. We were happy but "almost" campers that evening.

As I walked through the door, I saw Sam. He asked if I was on the run with Stefan, and I told him I was. We laughed a bit and everyone went into the meeting to listen to Stefan.

Sam was right. An excellent trip with fine people. There was no broken equipment, at least on our ride. It was a good day. But as our trail leader put it on channel 32 before we embarked upon our most excellent journey:

Any day in a Jeep is a "good day"!

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