"Whose up for a trek to the top of Apex Mountain," called out my tireless guide? Before even questioning, my hand went
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| "Whose up for a trek to the top of Apex Mountain?" called out my tireless guide. (Photo: Trevor Hofmann, Canadian Auto Press) |
up in exuberant agreement along with about sixty percent of the Jamboreers. After fifteen minutes or so of dirt roads the remaining forty percent headed back to base camp while we turned off, up a less agreeable twin-track dirt road on our way to the apex of Apex. While the road upwards was no picnic, it was again nothing for the Liberty, and the scenery was what I was missing on the earlier route. Not that the previous mountain's trees were less attractive or the views of distant valleys integrating ambling rivers weren't splendid, but Apex opens up as its summit approaches, and the view to the world below is all-encompassing. This is why I would buy an SUV, not to test my personal mettle by scaling vertical rock walls, taking half a day to move a couple hundred feet while risking life and limb (one fella' broke his arm in the advanced group when his CJ, YJ or TJ tipped over) in the process,
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| As we pull into the base camp, all horns start honking in Jeep Jamboree tradition, a celebration of a day's adventure and a sign that all are returning unscathed. (Photo: Trevor Hofmann, Canadian Auto Press) |
but to seek out remote locations where a spectacular view or particularly enchanting fishing hole could be banked in the father-son memories for future days, when Dad and his exploits aren't as cool anymore and all I've got is my rocking chair and macramé.
As we pull into the base camp, all horns start honking in Jeep Jamboree tradition, a celebration of a day's adventure and a sign that all are returning unscathed. Another hearty meal, more good conversation, looks of proud satisfaction from parents and hero worship from sons and daughters, jokes, jabs and pokes, but few directed at my Liberty. You see, it made me and Jeep proud that day. Not once did it hang me or anyoneelse up, but rather proved to be a formidable 4x4, "Trail Rated" in Jeep-speak. And unlike some of my CJ, YJ and TJ friends, my behind felt pampered, I never ate any dust other than when I purposely chose to roll the windows down and take in the smell of the wild, and I looked stylish doin' it.
