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What an adventure my brother Chris and I just went through. A couple weeks ago, I was off roading on Mosby
Mountain in the Eastern Uintas looking for sign of the Lost Rhoades Mine. Old Prospectors used to leave signs such
as crosses, squares, and other familiar shapes in trees. Sometimes these signs were maps or contained maps to the
location of the mine. Most of them required a basic form of personal understanding to understand the meanings of
the mines. We were given tips to the location of some of these trees and decided to set out to find some of them.
We left home around 5pm and started the thirty mile drive to location. When we got there, we started scouting
out looking for these signs. A majority were located on the outskirts of a meadow. I drove the truck into the
meadow and started toward where the trees were supposed to be. There was about 6 inches of water on the ground and
a little bit of marsh grass. With my 4x4 truck being so light, it navigated very well through this. The water
started getting deeper, so I decided to stop and turn around. Right as I was about to hit the brake, we jolted to
a stop. So I threw the truck into reverse to back out, but my tires started spinning. Great! I thought. I put
the truck into first and tried pulling forward, with still absolutely no movement. I spend about 5 minutes trying
to get out with no avail. So I opened my door and with my chaco sandles, stepped out and fell through about 1/2
inch thick ice and about a foot and a half of water. So being wet, i broke up the ice around the truck and assesed
the situation. I could only stand the water for about 1 minute at a time and jumped into the truck to warm back
up. The situation was interesting; my front right tire dropped in between two logs, lodging it tightly between
them, my back tire had fallen off a a small log and i was trying to stop. So my entire right side was stopped up.
With no locking differentials, that meant that my tires would spin. We were stuck for good.
Survival mode kicked in. Our first priority was to build a fire and dry ourselves. Our altitude was about
10'000' and the temp was around 20F. No cell service. Chris wanted to start walking, but that would have been
suicide. We had no coats, no blankets, no shoes, nothing to keep warm. Just wet sandals, t-shirt, and pants. I
usually carry plenty of survival gear anytime I go offroad, but do to my move to Vernal, I had not yet put it back
in the truck. Luckily, I had carried my 2 spare 5-gallon tanks of gas with me. We collected large amounts of wood
and saturated the pile with one tank. We lit a trail of gas leading to the pile which ignited with beauty. We
collected water from the marsh into small containers and brought them to a boil. There was a little hot chocolate
mix in the truck. The ground near the fire was wet, so I cut down small pines and created a pine bed and pillow
near the fire. After a good twenty minutes of hard work, we had made a small luxury in the woods. We were warm,
drying, and had collected plenty of drinking water.
Around midnight, Chris got a text on his cell phone. Neither of us had reception within the last half hour
of driving and the phones currently said no service. So I quickly wrote an SOS text that said our location,
situation, and needs. We had made the mistake of not telling anybody where we were. After about three hours, we
finally got a text to go through to my little brother, who was asleep and did not get the text until morning. We
laid on our pines bed near the fire and watched the stars for the rest of the night. When morning came, we started
walking back down the road that brought us to our stopping point. About two miles into our hike, we got another
text from our mother saying the local police had been informed as to our location and was sending the sherrif up to
get us. We continued and hiked off the road a bit to a peak to see if we could get service enough to call. We
managed a call out to our mother to inform her that we were ok. We also called the sherrif. Interestingly, he
told us that since it was forest service property, there was nothing he could do. So we hiked on hoping to see
somebody. After over eight miles of hiking the rugged roads, we finally met up with some hunters driving a weak
jeep liberty. The thought they could get us out, so we accepted and the drove us back and they gave it a shot, but
with no success. The Jeep Liberty was no tread, no lockers, and was too light to pull me out. He just spun his
tires. So they drove us into LaPoint and the sherrif drove us back to Vernal.
We drove into work and infromed them what happened. We immediatly became very popular through the sight with
our story of survival. A few employees with bigger trucks offered to pull us out. One had a F-150 and the other
an F-250. We and a few spectators drove up and tried the truck again. The 150 could hardly budge it. With his
truck being lighter and having very little tread, he too just spun. So we hooked the 250 up and he have it a small
try. With much more weight, power, and deep tread, and started pulling to pull the truck out. Like the others, he
started spinning too. So he put about five feet of slack in the line and ripped back. When the tow straps
tightened, the back of my truck jumped up about four feet and flew back out of the marsh. I was out! We undid the
straps and I toted around in the marsh some more to celebrate getting out. The drive home was peaceful.
I was smiling the whole time. But my joy could only last so long. I started hearing a strange sound and pulled over.
My rear right tire was blown and loosing air quick. Great. We had dropped the psi of the tires down to about 10lb
to get better traction. Half an hour later, my spare was on and we
heading back for the hotel. I layed down greatful that our ordeal was over. Lesson learned, get locking
differentials and stay out of dark marshes!
Mountain in the Eastern Uintas looking for sign of the Lost Rhoades Mine. Old Prospectors used to leave signs such
as crosses, squares, and other familiar shapes in trees. Sometimes these signs were maps or contained maps to the
location of the mine. Most of them required a basic form of personal understanding to understand the meanings of
the mines. We were given tips to the location of some of these trees and decided to set out to find some of them.
We left home around 5pm and started the thirty mile drive to location. When we got there, we started scouting
out looking for these signs. A majority were located on the outskirts of a meadow. I drove the truck into the
meadow and started toward where the trees were supposed to be. There was about 6 inches of water on the ground and
a little bit of marsh grass. With my 4x4 truck being so light, it navigated very well through this. The water
started getting deeper, so I decided to stop and turn around. Right as I was about to hit the brake, we jolted to
a stop. So I threw the truck into reverse to back out, but my tires started spinning. Great! I thought. I put
the truck into first and tried pulling forward, with still absolutely no movement. I spend about 5 minutes trying
to get out with no avail. So I opened my door and with my chaco sandles, stepped out and fell through about 1/2
inch thick ice and about a foot and a half of water. So being wet, i broke up the ice around the truck and assesed
the situation. I could only stand the water for about 1 minute at a time and jumped into the truck to warm back
up. The situation was interesting; my front right tire dropped in between two logs, lodging it tightly between
them, my back tire had fallen off a a small log and i was trying to stop. So my entire right side was stopped up.
With no locking differentials, that meant that my tires would spin. We were stuck for good.
Survival mode kicked in. Our first priority was to build a fire and dry ourselves. Our altitude was about
10'000' and the temp was around 20F. No cell service. Chris wanted to start walking, but that would have been
suicide. We had no coats, no blankets, no shoes, nothing to keep warm. Just wet sandals, t-shirt, and pants. I
usually carry plenty of survival gear anytime I go offroad, but do to my move to Vernal, I had not yet put it back
in the truck. Luckily, I had carried my 2 spare 5-gallon tanks of gas with me. We collected large amounts of wood
and saturated the pile with one tank. We lit a trail of gas leading to the pile which ignited with beauty. We
collected water from the marsh into small containers and brought them to a boil. There was a little hot chocolate
mix in the truck. The ground near the fire was wet, so I cut down small pines and created a pine bed and pillow
near the fire. After a good twenty minutes of hard work, we had made a small luxury in the woods. We were warm,
drying, and had collected plenty of drinking water.
Around midnight, Chris got a text on his cell phone. Neither of us had reception within the last half hour
of driving and the phones currently said no service. So I quickly wrote an SOS text that said our location,
situation, and needs. We had made the mistake of not telling anybody where we were. After about three hours, we
finally got a text to go through to my little brother, who was asleep and did not get the text until morning. We
laid on our pines bed near the fire and watched the stars for the rest of the night. When morning came, we started
walking back down the road that brought us to our stopping point. About two miles into our hike, we got another
text from our mother saying the local police had been informed as to our location and was sending the sherrif up to
get us. We continued and hiked off the road a bit to a peak to see if we could get service enough to call. We
managed a call out to our mother to inform her that we were ok. We also called the sherrif. Interestingly, he
told us that since it was forest service property, there was nothing he could do. So we hiked on hoping to see
somebody. After over eight miles of hiking the rugged roads, we finally met up with some hunters driving a weak
jeep liberty. The thought they could get us out, so we accepted and the drove us back and they gave it a shot, but
with no success. The Jeep Liberty was no tread, no lockers, and was too light to pull me out. He just spun his
tires. So they drove us into LaPoint and the sherrif drove us back to Vernal.
We drove into work and infromed them what happened. We immediatly became very popular through the sight with
our story of survival. A few employees with bigger trucks offered to pull us out. One had a F-150 and the other
an F-250. We and a few spectators drove up and tried the truck again. The 150 could hardly budge it. With his
truck being lighter and having very little tread, he too just spun. So we hooked the 250 up and he have it a small
try. With much more weight, power, and deep tread, and started pulling to pull the truck out. Like the others, he
started spinning too. So he put about five feet of slack in the line and ripped back. When the tow straps
tightened, the back of my truck jumped up about four feet and flew back out of the marsh. I was out! We undid the
straps and I toted around in the marsh some more to celebrate getting out. The drive home was peaceful.
I was smiling the whole time. But my joy could only last so long. I started hearing a strange sound and pulled over.
My rear right tire was blown and loosing air quick. Great. We had dropped the psi of the tires down to about 10lb
to get better traction. Half an hour later, my spare was on and we
heading back for the hotel. I layed down greatful that our ordeal was over. Lesson learned, get locking
differentials and stay out of dark marshes!
.
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