A Miss and a Hit
You know, if I had a Wyoming fishing license…
The trip to Green River, Wyoming was uneventful save for the beginning and the end of the 245-mile jaunt. The dirt trail going into Vedauwoo is bad washboard, as I’ve whined about before. My camping spot was just short of a couple of miles past the paved entrance. On the way in, I’d taken it at a crawl, the F-250s stiff springs making it jerk about, while the Defiant bounced up and down on the pronounced ridges with a sort of whaka-whaka rhythm. I noticed a hard-side truck camper idle in the following day, bouncing and rocking something fierce, too.
Since that time, the many passing vehicles appeared to be taking it at about 20-30 MPH, and although the ones with various kinds of trailers made a horrendous noise, that seemed to be the style of the locale. So, running solo later on a couple of errands to Laramie, I tried it. The trick was to get up to speed as quickly as possible in order to minimize the rather alarming judder. Not that bad! It was also not bad in that it chopped the trail time from a half-hour to a few minutes. All I had to do on hitting the pavement was to shove the GPS’ power plug back in. On the way back, slowing down to take the turn into my camp was unique, in that slowing on the washboard steered the back end right as the rear tires, inflated to their towing pressure of 75 PSI, made only occasional contact with the ridges. That aided my left turn, but the resulting door shake was disconcerting.
in the right type of RV, this place would be quite a treat.
When departing for what promised to be a 5-hour drive – four hours to get to Green River, and maybe another hour to take Wyoming 530 and then nine miles of 012, marked as the “Lost Dog” Use Area – I decided to man-up and pull the Defiant over the washboard at speed. What the heck, why not try it? To crawl out again would just take too long, and the manly approach usually Read more…
Strolling Amok 