6:45 a.m., KOA Campground, Coeur d' Alene, Idaho: Temperatures dip to the upper 40s overnight. California-dude Holman is not a happy camper, and is convinced that this trip wasn't a good idea. He emerges from his tent dressed in layers, while Brubaker, donned in shorts and a muscle shirt, mocks Holman's thin beach blood. In what has become standard operating procedure, Brubaker breaks camp and loads the Coleman camping gear into H2 while Holman thaws out with a hot morning shower.
We fought for every inch of...
We fought for every inch of forward progress in the wet Idaho snow. The snow was like quicksand, and it quickly swallowed our tires, causing the frame of our H2 to come to rest on the snow.
9:39 a.m., Mullan, Idaho: One of our goals for H2our was to 'wheel in snow. Naturally, we enlisted the help of the North Idaho Trailblazers. This Coeur d'Alene-based club is comprised of honest-to-goodness snow experts, and they have the knowledge and rigs to get it done. We've witnessed these folks in action at their annual Cabin Fever Run, and it seems like no snow depth is too deep to be traversed by these folks. We meet up with club members Mark Tihonovich, Brett Skavland, and Jim Taylor in Mullan and trek out of town towards the Coeur d'Alene National Forest, where they guarantee us there will be snow. Skavland is driving his '86 350ci-powered CJ and Tihonovich is piloting his '65 350ci-powered CJ. Both rigs are locked front and rear. We follow Willow Creek Road until we come to an old railroad bed. From here, we enter a two-track road that slowly winds upwards into the mountains through thick, pine-scented forest. The trails are steep in places, which requires the use of 4-Lo. The area shows signs of being heavily logged in places, and scores of trails sprout from the main trail.
Brett Skavland demonstrates...
Brett Skavland demonstrates how to beat a 3-foot-deep snowdrift into submission in his CJ.
10:45 a.m., somewhere near the Idaho-Montana border, on top of a mountain: It's spitting snow and we're stuck in a 3-foot-deep snowfield. Holman (driving) is becoming very agitated due to Snow Expert Brubaker's nonstop verbal haranguing of the errors of California-dude Holman's winter driving skills. Our friends from the North Idaho Trailblazers are wondering why they ever volunteered to take a day off work and help these magazine psychos who are clearly on the verge of a jihad. The first patches of snow appeared innocently at an altitude of 6,048 feet, and by 6,347 feet, the snow cover was constant. We know we were going to get stuck, and since we hadn't stretched the winch cable on our new Hummer/Warn XD 9000i winch, we'd stretched it using Tihonovich's CJ as an anchor before we went in. It's a good thing, too. The snow is of the soft, mushy variety, which swallowed our big 35-inch-diameter BFG A/T tires whole at the first sign of wheel spin, dropping the H2 to its framerails.
11:15 a.m., still stuck in the snow, somewhere in Idaho: We've accomplished our goal and wheeled in snow. Now we need to get going. Unfortunately, the Idaho Mountains are saying "not so fast, homeboys." We've been winching for 30 minutes and we're still trying to get the big H2 turned around. The winch has stalled. Holman has begun to only refer to Brubaker as "a damn Yeti!"
11:30 a.m., almost out of snow and patience, somewhere in Idaho: Just when we thought we were out of the cursed snowfield (whose stupid idea was it to wheel in snow, anyway?), we get stuck again. Holman has snapped. Our friends from the North Idaho Trailblazers are firmly convinced that one of us isn't going to arrive at our destination in Illinois. We winch out our H2 one last time, and then barrel down the mountain at light speed. As we distance ourselves from the snow and begin to roll over honest-to-God dirt again, Holman begins to pull himself together, mumbling about something to do with dry dirt trails in the desert. We say goodbye to our friends from the North Idaho Trailblazers in Mullan, and then we jump on Highway 90 and head towards Kalispell, Montana.
4:55 p.m., Kalispell, Montana: We feel ragged. The H2 is filthy, but running great. Conversation is minimal. We're sitting in a fancy-schmanzy coffee house, uploading our daily blogs using their Wi-Fi. We hear that back in Primedia HQ, bets are being made that one of us won't make it all the way to Illinois. At this point, this trip is about survival. Mind games are beginning to come into play.
In Part III, the adventure enters a shocking new phase as Holman and Brubaker plunge into the vast emptiness of Montana and North Dakota before making their way into Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Illinois. Will the boys ever be the same after meeting a colorful ferryboat-driving old lady with a bad attitude? Will they survive an all-night thrash across Montana without hitting four-legged critters? Will the H2 emerge unscathed from the Trail Ride from Hell near Williston, North Dakota? Will the mosquitoes carry them off in Wisconsin? Next month, we'll tell all.
For even more photos of H2our De Force as well as our daily blogs, get to fourwheeler.com/H2our. There you can read about our trip as it happened and see photos taken by our seriously disturbed pair of travelers.