So, How Hard Could it Be? Our Journey to Pick Up Two Tents From CVT

The Only Day

It all started rather innocently; I must say.

Will @Sixthelement and I had recently finished up the AZTW Arizona Peace Trail (can read all about it here: https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads/aztw-arizona-peace-trail-expedition.710831/) and it was time for Will to pick up a luxury RTT to add to his already well stocked setup.

Will let me know that he was going to head out to CVT Las Vegas to pick up his medium width Mt. Hood to mount to his recently finished custom full height bed rack.

I knew I needed another soft shell rtt, and I already knew CVT made good stuff, and I also knew that I wanted to be as efficient as possible acquiring one, and I also also wanted to physically travel to a roof top tent store, so I offered to ride shotgun, pay for some gas, and pick up a second tent at the same time.

We’d mount his Mt. Hood to the bed rack and put my Mt. Shasta in the bed of the truck. Simple as pie. Drive on over, a ~4 hr. drive from Flagstaff, toss em in and on, and then head on back. Easy Peasy.

The Saturday arrived and within the seven o’clock hour we had hit the road. It was an overcast and slightly snowy morning, temperatures in the high 20’s to low 30’s in Flagstaff. Our lunchtime stop however, would be in the 60’s, so we were looking forward to that.

The drive on the I-40 West was uneventful, although much slower than anticipated. Snow flurries and what is called a snow squall (a sudden heavy snowstorm paired with high winds) were passing through this part of Arizona, slowing traffic, and reducing visibility greatly.

It lasted all the way until we started dropping serious elevation on the way into Kingman, AZ.

Happy to be through that mess we continued on, chatting about various things, and remarking on the incredible landscape of this part of the world.

We passed the Hoover Dam and made our way north, heading up and into Nevada. Las Vegas was within reach, and before we knew it we were in busy city traffic, making our way through it and towards CVT Las Vegas.

We had planned to arrive at 10:30, but the weather and limited visibility pushed our arrival time back one hour.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Regardless, we were excited to be there, so we went on in and became acquainted with the staff and their warehouse.

After being introduced to it, we wasted no time heading over to their showroom to see all of their displays.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Needless to say, it was rather exciting getting to check out their entire inventory back-to-back-to-back. It was fun to check out the size differences of the soft shell rtt’s, investigate the track designs on the hard shells, and explore the accessory gear they had on display. If you ever get the chance, this is a cool experience in my opinion, and worth the time.

With the fun stuff out of the way it was now time to get down to business and load up some tents.

I had previously paid for my Mt. Shasta, so it had already been put aside and marked. We quickly popped open the box and got to unpacking.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

It may seem childish, but this was another exciting experience for me. You see, this tent was the beginning of the collection phase for the build out of the second Tacoma in Overland Flagstaffs fleet. So, it was more than just the unpacking of a brand-new tent, but also the first step in accomplishing something important to me.

Anyways, we got it out of the box, put it on the ground, popped it open, and took a peek inside and around the outside. All was well with the condition of the tent and its accessories, so we began loading it into the bed of Wills truck.

While we were unpacking mine, the folks at CVT had brought over Wills Mt. Hood.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Being a wedge style hard top, it deployed in just a couple of seconds.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Seeing the much cooler Mt. Hood, we quickly loaded my Mt. Shasta into the bed, an almost perfect fit, and got to prepping the Mt. Hood to be installed on the bed rack. Will has a soft topper, so we simply placed the Mt. Shasta on the wheel wells and used one of the boxes in the bed to hold up the end of the rtt nearest the tailgate. No strapping down needed.

Getting the Mt. Hood all set up involved installing several items into the built-in track that wraps around the entire exterior of the tent. This is a really cool design, one that solves a lot of problems and creates incredible versatility when mounting things to your truck. Like the awning Will bought while we were there. It fits perfectly and was very easy and clean to install. A great look.

Hard shells are certainly way more appealing due to their design, although they do require full height bed racks as they are longer than the truck bed. The insanely fast deployment and closure is also really attractive. The only slight downside is that the interior space pales in comparison to that of a soft shell. But for the convenience, it’s a hard call to make.

It took a couple of hours, but we eventually had everything squared away and the bills settled. I picked up a telescoping ladder to replace the old-style sliding ladder on my first-generation Mt. Rainier. Will bought a few extra things as well, because, well, why not?

Will pulled out front and the team at CVT snapped an Instagram photo to post on their feed. We left and headed to a gas station to top off fuel and grab something to drink.

As we were pulling out of the gas station, I punched in Flagstaff into the GPS so we could navigate the few freeways and roads out of Las Vegas towards the I-40.

Up came the route, as well as an alert stating that there was a ’52-minute slowdown’ on the I-40 near Williams, AZ, a small town ~30 miles west of Flagstaff.

Well, we still had a few hours of driving before we even got to Williams, so we figured that whatever had caused the traffic would be long gone by the time we got there.

We stopped several miles down the road to check the connections of the rtt to the rack. Satisfied, we pressed on, more conversations and talks about the visit we had just had to CVT. And of course, the two tents we had just picked up!

CVT by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Cruising along, making our way east on the I-40 towards home and dinner (we would be arriving in Flagstaff around 5:30 pm), we drove on, unawares of what the night would have in store for the two of us.

We are somewhere west of Ashfork, AZ when we receive a very fortunate call. Will’s coworker had been working out at Bullhead City, a place south of Vegas near Kingman, AZ and was ahead of us on the I-40 by an hour or so.

He was calling to inform us of a bit of a slowdown, well, complete stop to the flow of traffic to be more precise, near Ashfork.

This is where it starts to get challenging.

Remember that ’52-minute slowdown’ from back in Vegas? Well, it turns out that that was just a bit inaccurate. Alright, more than a bit.

Tragically, there was a very serious accident west of Williams, AZ that ended the lives of more than one person. The accident also occurred in such a way that both sides of the freeway were completely closed, despite the two sets of lanes having a substantial clear space between them.

Traffic backed up all the way from Williams to Ashfork was quite the thing, as that is a substantial distance.

We chat with Will’s coworker about how we can best get around this traffic, as there are many FS roads on the north side of the freeway and paved roads to the south.

I suppose now is probably the time to introduce the Tacoma that we were traveling in, and how fortunate it was that Will had built and prepped this particular truck the way he did.

You see, we weren’t sitting in any old Tacoma. No. This 2017 6MT TRDOR 4x4 has been upgraded just a wee bit. Talking full skids, 34’s, 5.29’s, Radflo suspension front and rear, HC rear and front bumpers, KC Lites, sliders, winch, and a plethora of recovery gear. The whole deal. It also was full of old Marine Corps cold weather gear, two sleeping bags, 4(!) tents, food, cooking apparatus, Gaia GPS, and an enabled Garmin In-Reach Sat phone.

In other words, we were well prepared for what lay ahead. The fact that both of us had served in the USMC doesn’t detract either. Which was good, because the route we were going to take wouldn’t be easy, and it was a chilly 18 degrees outside.

We could have decided to just hit the stopped traffic, park, and wait out the accident, unsure of when that might be. But this wouldn’t be the story that it turned out to be. Plus, I had a truck to deliver to a client the following day and needed to begin prepping it by 11 in the morning to have it ready on time. So waiting around was not an option.

After further discussions with Will’s coworker, we came to the realization that we could not take smaller highways to the south, as the I-17 North into Flagstaff was also closed. We also knew that the 2wd, 9000 lb., work truck that Will’s coworker was in would not be able to conquer the necessary routes to get us to where we needed to get to.

So, with that in mind we thanked him for the heads up, wished him luck on getting back to his house, and pulled off of the freeway to fill the trucks tank with gas and to fill our bellies with food for the adventure ahead.

We would attempt to drive offroad from west of Ashfork to Williams. In the dark. During a winter weather advisory. While an accumulated 100 miles of standstill traffic (by the time the freeway reopened, it was ~50 miles at this point in the tale) sat on the freeway, helpless to do anything but wait until the road ahead was cleared.

Equipped with Gaia and downloaded trails/maps for this area, we left the gas station and headed towards Crooktown.

It was approximately 5:45 at this point. Will’s wife calls and he updates her on the situation while I text my wife and do the same.

We pull off of the road and follow a downloaded track from some previous point in time on Gaia.

The instant we left the pavement we knew this would be a tough route. This normally dry dirt was a sloppy, slippery, complete mess of a thing as we pressed on.

The 34” Falken Wildpeak AT3W’s spun in third gear in 4wd as they worked to fling mud out of the treads just before being repacked with new mud and starting the cycle over again. Going is slow and traction is limited. Navigating the tight turns and trails of the State Trust Land (we also had an active state trust land permit in the glovebox, telling you, seriously prepared) took a great deal of attention and careful driving.

Will drove on while I closely navigated with Gaia, this portion of land being difficult to know where you’re going in the dry day, a nightmare in the wet night.

We pass numerous real estate agent sign, letting us know that private land spotted this entire area.

We are slowly gaining elevation at this point, but the ground is still wet, no snow was able to stick at this elevation.

And then it happened. Just as we would begin making our way east, we hit a patch of private land owned by someone who was not afraid to put signs warning travelers to bug off and keep out.

Not sure of what the actual rules were for this situation, we opted to play it safe and turn around, despite the fact that the dirt road had no gate. We knew we would be getting home super late anyways, so no harm is spending even more time getting there. /sarcasm

I find another potential route and we make our way to it. This route wasn’t as friendly, skirting a large canyon, causing us to lose and gain elevation in a rocky, rutted portion of road.

As we make our way along, the ground starts to get more firm, due to being more frozen, and the traction issue becomes less of a concern. For the moment.

As we round the tip of this canyon, we come across the first of two vehicles we would run into.

The vehicle is stopped, headlights facing us, parked near the edge of the road.

We slow, unsure of what to expect.

Out of nowhere the vehicle (a Subaru Forester) begins heading our way, the tiny car getting jostled by the rocky terrain quite severely.

Without even a glance our way the lone female driver passes us by, confident in her abilities to navigate the unknown to her much more difficult terrain ahead of her. We don’t know if she made it, but we do know that compared to where she had come from, the slick mud ahead of her would not be nearly as convenient. I hope her all weather tires had enough grip in em, and that Subaru AWD system had the gumption to tackle what almost stopped the Tacoma.

We look at each other and press on.

Never having been in this part of the world before, we come to what appears to be, on Gaia at least, a neighborhood near Ashfork. But it was simply a series of unmaintained dirt trails that provided access to plots of land.

The going stayed slow, but we kept moving forward. It was fully dark now, and the KC Lites were flipped on to illuminate the undulating path ahead of us.

We make our way to a paved road, following it south where we would head east once again on a dirt ‘frontage’ road that paralleled the I-40 freeway a couple miles to the north.

The truck was seriously dirty at this point, mud everywhere under the truck, all over the sides, coating the sliders in so much frozen mud that the passenger door wouldn’t open.

We check it out and stretch our legs before pressing on.

It was here, after we turned off of the paved road, that we ran across a situation that probably made the entire adventure worthwhile:

A stuck 2021 FWD Rav4 packed full of 5 college kids who were poorly prepared for such a situation. Not a serious jacket between them, with no gear or recovery skills, with very poor cell reception, limited gas, and an ignored call for help from their insurance company who was supposed to send a tow truck.

Being the types of folk that we are, we stop on this uphill, mucky, dirt road to offer some assistance, quite possibly keeping these kids from some severe pain and suffering.

While unloading our recovery gear, inconveniently located underneath the rtt in the truck bed, the driver of the Rav4 comes over after pulling his muddy shoes out of an empty beer box and says that he didn’t think Progressive would ever get someone out to help him.

Will and I look at each other inquisitively and tell Hayden that we weren’t with Progressive, but rather, two guys attempting to do the same thing they were doing (bypassing stopped freeway traffic) albeit in the correct machine for the task at hand.

Hayden hollers out to his cohorts "These guys aren't from Progressive!". This incited a bunch of laughter from the probably intoxicated passengers of the Rav4.

Counting their blessings, they pull the lone blanket out of the car to put on the ground so that Hayden can attach the recovery strap to his rear control arm.

He gets the job done and I use a soft shackle to attach the strap to Wills front bumper.

I give the signal and Will gives the Rav4 a yank, causing him to slide into the same ditch the Rav4 was stuck in, though more parallel and not so nose first.

So, I pull the strap off of the front and he works to free himself. It’s 4Lo and ATRAC time. It’s also time for serious rpm’s and some spinning tires.

Mud is back to being flung everywhere as we dropped a bit of elevation when we hit the paved road. We hadn't quite climbed back up to frozen road elevation quite yet.

Working the truck side to side and back and forth Will frees himself. Realizing he won’t be able to free this Rav4 by pulling backwards, he bounces over the ditch and around the stuck Rav4 to turn around ahead.

Engine screaming, and tires spinning, he turns around and makes his way back down to us.

I connect the recovery strap to his HC rear bumper and give the signal. Another tug and the Rav4 still isn’t moving.

We have Hayden give the car just enough gas to slightly spin the wheels and Will gives the Tacoma a firm push of the skinny pedal, snapping the Rav4 out of the ditch and down the muddy road. Mission accomplished!

We get the Tacoma unhooked and the Rav4 turned around by having all of us push it back and forth until it was pointed down the road.

The way back to the paved road was all downhill, so we told them to head back down and just wait the traffic out as they weren’t prepared to take any other path.

They thank us, offering to pay us for our help, which we decline.

38 minutes later and we hop in the truck, shaking our heads at what those kids were thinking. Well, I suppose we were all young at one point, and felt indestructible ourselves. But the mess they were in before we arrived was a serious one. A potentially deadly one that was thankfully avoided.

We continue on, the night getting deeper and the route more secluded and difficult.

We began gaining elevation, and the once muddy road,

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Became snow-covered.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

We were breaking fresh trail here, and the snow was over 1 foot deep in some places.

And we were still climbing, up and up and up, the fight against gravity another obstacle for the monstrous Tacoma to conquer.

The going is incredibly tough at this point. We start to doubt our ability to make it to Williams in these condition. The trail is impossible to follow properly, the only thing giving us the slightest inkling of our relationship to the trail is Gaia (would not have made it without this app), with subtle changes to our route as we notice deviation from the path on the app.

We make our way around a southward trending bend in the route and come nearest to the freeway that we would be.

At first Will thought it must be a town, but the lights we saw to our right were the stopped traffic of all of the cars along the I-40.

CVT Two Tent Pickup by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

I never thought I’d see such a thing.

Remember how I said that the previous going was difficult? Well, turns out we may have been a bit too early to judge the true definition of 'difficult'.

Because now, the going got really difficult. Limits pushing difficult.

We had continued to gain elevation ever since we recovered the college kids, and the snow here was deep and slippery. No bite in it whatsoever.

We follow a route that led us to a powerline road, a sure sign of a connected route between our position and Williams, the place where we would be able to jump ahead of the accident and get on the wide-open freeway into Flagstaff.

This is the only point of our route that the stopped traffic on the I-40 could see what we were attempting. Being bored in their cars, there was no way for them to miss the fully lit Tacoma off in the distance. They witness several failed climbs, as we were up against a steep grade, before Will finally grabs the traction needed to slowly inch the Tacoma forward and through the gate. It's incredible how one tiny section of ground will have no traction, but if you can back up and get to that same tiny piece of ground with any momentum whatsoever you can get past it. This is what I was witnessing while holding the cattle gate open.

He continues uphill, not wanting to stop to pick me up on the steep slope.

I chase up the hill behind him, quickly getting winded.

He eventually makes it to a flat area, and I jump back in the passenger seat, now aware that we are on a tight snowy road next to a fairly steep drop off. Excellent. My wife would most surely approve.

Continuing to put our faith into the Tacoma and Will's driving abilities, we press on.

We continue to climb a lot, then drop down a bit, and then climb again. The ground is still covered in deep snow.

We crest a small hill and look ahead of us, not quite being able to make out what we are seeing.

No. It can’t be. No way!

A wash at the bottom and then a very, very steep climb up the other side.

Convinced we were doomed, we began the talks of turning around. Then the conversation quickly turned to “Well, we’re already here, might as well give it a shot.”

And give it a shot we did. We eased into the wash and gave a tentative start to the climb. No dice.

So, we roll back and up the other side of the wash.

Will slots the 6MT Tacoma into first, 4Lo and ATRAC engaged, sets off, rips through first gear and grabs second without hesitation.

The Tacoma rockets across the wash and the Radflo suspension earns its keep as we bounce our way up the steep climb.

Will works the wheel back and forth as I cheer from the passenger seat with each foot we move forward, and the Tacoma roars and spins and rotates and slides its way up this impossibly steep grade, tires grabbing rocks just momentarily before ripping them out of the ground and sending them shooting downhill.

An eruption of success comes pouring out of the Tacoma from its passengers as we crest the top and make our way to flat ground!

What an achievement!

But our cheers were short lived, as just ahead were two more equally steep hills, with the next one clearly covered in large rocks and boulders, noticeable even under the thick cover of snow.

This climb. Now this climb is one for the books, one for that memory bank, never to be forgotten. This climb is what solidifies that man-machine bond that vehicle loving folks carry with them in their hearts. This climb was the stuff of life.

We begin with another tentative attempt, quickly spinning the tires and stopping in our tracks.

Alright, here we go again. This time with a bit more fervor.

We become stopped again. So, we try again, this time more aggressively.

Still no dice. Having come this far we knew we had to give it one more serious go before calling it quits.

Will slots first and eases off of the clutch. He rips through first gear in an instant and slams home second, pinning the throttle to the floor.

The Tacoma is alive now, and it’s fully understood by both man and machine that this is time for serious effort, no more fun and games. This was the truest of tests, reduced to the simplest of actions. Get up that hill!

The truck roars, tires spinning without mercy through the fallen snow.

The steering wheel is worked back and forth as the small extra bit of momentum gained at the launch allows us to get ever slightly higher up the hill.

ATRAC is working like mad, struggling to find us grip as we bounce our way up this rocky slope.

The HC bumpers and full armor are now earning their keep as we slowly work our way up the hill.

We come to a large set of boulders and our ascent slows. Will continues to work the wheel back and forth, our concern rising as we slow to a crawl.

The accelerator is still pinned, and the Tacoma is like a wild animal, snarling, and unceasingly clawing its way ever so closer to the top.

And just like that: purchase.

One front tire grabs a rock with CV shattering efficacy, and we are launched over the boulders and up the rest of the hill.

The cheers from within the Tacoma this time around are of legend. Talk about an adrenaline rush because this was something else!

After we calm down we press on, the next hill being a breeze relative to the last two due to it being covered in small pointy rocks, the perfect place for the Wildpeaks to bite to propel us forward.

The final several miles of the powerline road are not as challenging, though the snow is still deep and slippery. But we had just conquered Mt. Everest, so nothing could stop us now!

Tired, muddy, and ready for bed, we finally exit the powerline road and head south into a golf course community on the backside of Williams.

We had made it. It had been done. All in one piece, without a single issue.

As we entered the I-40 we reset the odometer to count the miles of completely stopped traffic.

It had been 12 hours at this point since the freeway was shut down. Some cars had lights on, some did not. Tractor trailers had slid into the median and one lone tow truck was attempting to get them back on the road.

18 miles of traffic was to our left by the time we finally got to the end of it, with cars continuing to head westbound, unaware of what lay ahead.

By the following day, at 11 am when the freeway was reopened (24 hours closed), the traffic had extended through Flagstaff almost 40 miles westbound from the scene of the tragic accident. Even more traffic was stopped eastbound, a truly stunning amount of stopped traffic.

Will dropped me off at my house, conveniently located near his, and we decided to unload everything the following day, it much too cold and much too late (11:30 PM) to bother messing with.

Here are photos of the carnage caused by the muddy road:

CVT by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

CVT by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

CVT by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

CVT by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

All in all, an incredible adventure, one that will never be forgotten.

I feel bad for folks who aren’t vehicle people. Because the bond you feel with a machine after an event like this is simply something else entirely.

As a sign of appreciation, the Tacoma underwent a full 20 hr. detail, by yours truly, to get it back to near perfect condition.

DSC_2588 by Michael Rickerd, on Flickr

Until next time.

 

EPIC!!!

Such an awesome experience and so well told. Can’t wait for the next one!

 

It was one hell of a trip. The Tacoma earned its keep for sure that night.

 

When he says banging rpms and slinging. The truck was either going to climb, blow a cv or axle or driveshaft.

 

That's some great story telling Michael! Enjoyed it very much!

 

Holy crap!! That’s one hell of a way to bypass the traffic. Awesome job with the story. @Sixthelement what width Mt. Hood did you get? I have the same softopper & the medium Mt hood, just waiting on the UpTop rack. As well as a replacement tent since FedEx pierced the top of my Mt Hood with a forklift.

 

As soft as it sounds, you are my main inspiration.

 

Med width. Perfect size I think.

 

Great story-telling, hope to see more posts like this!

 

Great story! Enjoy the new set up.

 

That is some good writing!
Felt as if I was there in the backseat with you guys lol

 

Still gotta figure a date to retrace them steps.

 

Agreed

 

Thank you! Working on being as immersive as possible with my writing.

 

I can read this over and over and I still get all hyped up. The Tacoma is one tough beast. What journey

 

Hell yes!