MachineryLink

High Centered, Red Faced and Bug Bitten

Jim Patrico
By  Jim Patrico , Progressive Farmer Senior Editor
A Ram Power Wagon could squeeze through this narrow spot in the trees. But probably not a Ram Laramie dually. (DTN/The Progressive Farmer photo by Jim Patrico)

Here's something you don't want to do at a media event for seasoned automotive journalists from all over the world: high center a dually pickup truck during a test drive ... on an off-road trail where you are not supposed to take that kind of vehicle.

But that's what I did.

The scene was Chrysler's Chelsea Proving Ground near Ann Arbor, Mich. The occasion was the company's "What's New for 2015" event. The embarrassment was all mine.

Here's how it happened. Chrysler had dozens of new vehicles available at the event for journalists to test drive, everything from Ram trucks to Jeeps to Fiat 500s. There were also a sleek Alpha Romeo and a couple of evil-looking Viper SRTs. Those were for show and drooling over only. Car companies know better than to let random journalists behind such high horsepower dynamos.

The dually in this sad story was a 2014 gorgeous deep blue 3500 Ram Laramie crew Cab Long Bed 4X4 DRW with a bed loaded with hay bales. My intention that day was to compare it to 2015 Rams for ride and handling.

This was my first truck of the day. I already had taken it through the road course, a long, flat loop with pavement hazards of all sorts like chatter bars, uneven slabs and manhole covers. Some sections reminded me of the rural roads around my Missouri home, broken blacktop that once was smooth but now dipped and slumped with old age and neglect. You've seen roads like that where you live.

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I also had taken the Laramie through the handling course: a couple of miles of S-curves -- and whatever is curvier than S. The truck had taken all of this in stride. It cruised over the bumps without uncomfortable jolts and glided through curves without swaying. Credit the dually's three-link coil with track bar front suspension and the rear suspension leaf springs with air bags. Very impressive.

On my second trip through the road course, I noticed signs for the off-road trail. They lured me like the scent of pizza lures a teenager. I had been on this trail a couple of years earlier and remembered it as tough but navigable. Without much thought, I made a left turn.

The trail was both muddy and rocky. I avoided the manmade, boulder-strewn riverbed near the front of the trail. The Ram dually is rugged, but it has standard ground clearance and I didn't want to rip out the bottom of a $66,000 vehicle those nice Ram people had let me borrow.

Instead, I made another left turn and headed up a steep gravel slope. No problem. Once down the hill, I avoided the water crossing. No need to get wet. I made another left turn and went up another steep hill, this one with "steps" of half-buried railroad ties. That was my big mistake.

The Ram roared up the hill, but once at the top, I realized the trail had gotten seriously narrower. This is not dually territory, I realized. But I couldn't turn around and I didn't want to back down those steps. So I edged forward until I saw another vehicle off to the left in front of me. It was a Jeep negotiating its way between two trees, with its mirrors folded back to give it a skosh more clearance. Once through the trees, it would head down a rocky slope. No way the dually would fit between those trees.

I got out and scouted a trail to the right. It was muddy and bumpy but wide enough for the big truck. Eventually it would have to lead down the hill.

I turned into it and made progress for only about 10 yards when the truck's front end went up over a bump and came down with an ugly thud. I gunned the engine and felt my stomach clench. Both the front wheels and the rear wheels were touching the slick ground...barely. I had no traction. I tried rocking back and forth. Nothing. I was going nowhere.

The Jeep by now was long gone and I was alone with swarms of Michigan's hungriest mosquitoes, who had just heard the dinner bell. I swatted and cursed as I hiked to the road and flagged down a Jeep-full of journalists approaching the trail.

Embarrassment and bug bites made me red-faced as I explained my predicament. Yes, I went in to the trail without a guide. Yes, I knew a dually wasn't designed for that kind of off roading. No, I wasn't crazy, just stupid.

I'll say this for the Ram staffers when I got back to base: they didn't mock me or (visibly) laugh. They did allow ruefully that their colleagues on the Jeep side of Chrysler would make their lives miserable. The rescue vehicle for the trail was a Jeep with a winch, and the Jeep people would be sure to take video of that small vehicle pulling that big, high-centered Ram out of trouble.

Nick, the chief honcho riding herd on the Ram contingent of journalists, is a jovial, back slapping kind of guy. But there was something serious in his eye when he told me -- a strong hand squeezing my arm, his teeth smiling -- "Next time, take a Power Wagon. It's meant for trails like that. A dually is not."

PostScript. I did take a Power Wagon back to the trail -- as a passenger and with a guide. No problem until we got to that same narrow place between the two trees. Beside the bottom of that same rocky slope was a Jeep lying sideways, its windshield shattered, its top caved in. The driver for some reason had swerved instead of going straight and had plunged over the edge. He was OK, as was his guide, both standing in the trail looking bewildered.

It is a well-known facet of human nature that nothing will more quickly heal the scars of embarrassment than someone else's similar misfortune.

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