ShareThisThe sun shines brightly over an open rock quarry. A cool breeze tosses fine dust through the air. A steel-reinforced, lifted and heavily modified Jeep rolls end-over-end and comes to rest upside-down, wheels still spinning.
It's springtime in America, and the rock crawlers have crawled out from under their rocks.
One of the more interesting aspects of living in such a large and diverse country is the fact that, at any given time, a sporting event is taking place that you probably never knew existed. This event likely has a major following, with dozens of sponsors and thousands of fans.
To the uninitiated, some events may be impossible to understand or simply difficult to appreciate. A flatlander like me, for instance, might never truly appreciate the appeal of spending tens of thousands of dollars to create a machine that can drive up a rock-strewn cliff.
But some of these homegrown sporting events, by their very nature, can appeal to something in all of us. Such is the case with rock crawling, an event I never knew existed, an event that I struggled to understand and an event that I eventually came to appreciate on very simple grounds.
I mean, come on. Loud, powerful four-wheelers tearing up a boulder-packed cliff at impossible speeds and angles, with the potential for spectacular cartwheeling crashes. And you can bring your own beer. If you don't appreciate this, you don't have a pulse.
The World Extreme Rock Championship Series (W.E. Rock) is a celebration of man's triumph over large rocks. With machines designed purely for climbing, featuring enormous knobby tires, unreal suspensions and hydraulics, rear wheels that can steer independently of the front and huge honking engines, drivers tackle incredibly steep routes in less than 10 minutes apiece.
Each route presents its own challenges, some requiring several technical maneuvers, some calling for help from a "spotter," a brave individual who guides the driver from just outside the vehicle, and some needing little more than a heavy helping of high-octane fuel. Look at it, negotiate it, balance it and when all else fails, step on it.
Reaching the top of each individual climb, however, is only half of the event. Taking this sport from merely entertaining to totally absorbing is the added challenge of returning the way you came.
The technical method for reversing one's route is to send your heavier end down first. For most rear-engined vehicles, this means backing down a cliff in reverse. And for almost every vehicle, this means that wheels are going to leave the ground.
Like with the flatlander's NASCAR, a good portion of the excitement lies in a spectacular wreck. With their reinforced cages, rock crawlers are built to roll, and bring the biggest cheers when the rolling stops with the wheels on the ground. They're meant to do that. Really.
Events like this occur across the country, and may be coming to your local quarry or cliff. So if you're interested in a little fuel-burning, parts-flying, dirt-tossing action, get on the Internet and find the next rock crawl near you.
And if someone asks you to attend an event you've never heard of, bring a camera. It may be hard to understand or difficult to appreciate, but a photo of a wrong-side-up Jeep can tell your friends a thousand words.
(Ben Grabow writes for the young, the urban and the easily amused. Contact him at thinlyread(at)gmail.com.)
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, http://www.scrippsnews.com)
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