We Want Your Photos!
•Busted trail carnage (we do like the gnarly breakage)
•Family-vacation-in-a-Jeep experience, especially if it’s vintage or parked in front of a monument or noteworthy thingy (like, the world’s largest grain elevator—it’s near Haysville, Kansas, BTW)
•Vintage military Jeeps, especially when they’re old-timey with your old-timey relatives
•And, of course, sunk/stuck/rolled/drowned Jeeps
Be sure to send us the high-resolution
version of the photo, and don’t forget the most important parts of all: Tell us who is in the photo (first and last name), where it was taken, what year/type of Jeep, and the fun backstory info.
And tell us who you are and where you’re from if you’re not the one in the photo.
Make sure the photo is a JPG (maximum quality), BMP, or TIFF file at 1,600 by 2,000 pixels (around 2 megapixels or the original size from your phone/device). No PDFs or other formats. Email the photo and story to firstname.lastname@example.org
with “Sideways” as the subject line.
Kit, Adopt Us So That We Can Build a Jeep With You
We like this story from Kit Swiecki. Like it a lot: “Three years ago, I embarked on a journey with my four daughters (ages 13, 11, 9, and 3, at the time) to restore an ’85 Jeep CJ-7. We could not change the oil when we started, but we took this project on as a family to complete by the time our oldest turned 16. We bought manuals, we watched YouTube videos, we asked a lot of questions at the local parts store, we read a lot of Jp Magazine articles, and we searched a lot of online forums. We made a lot of mistakes. Along the way we learned how to weld, how a torque wrench worked, what a ‘cherry picker’ is...the list goes on and on. We took the engine out, removed the transmission, and cut out rusted floorpans. The machine shop let my daughters and me come in on weekends to help reassemble the rebuilt original inline six-cylinder engine.” And so it went, slowly, with each of his daughters contributing over time. Then, just before his oldest daughter turned 16, “We fired it up for the first time! We whooped and hollered! We adjusted the timing, and we tinkered with the idle. We got it running well! We took it to a local mechanic, who gave it a once-over and declared it safe!” Bonus points: This daughter now knows how to drive a manual trans, jump-start, and get the CJ started while on a hill without plowing into whatever is behind her. “If we can do it, any family can.”
Look, everyone—it’s a grocery-getting ’18 Jeep Renegade actually wheeling—and stucking. And nothing was fabricated in that description, right down to it being on its way home from gettin’ at the grocery store. Stuart Fargiano decided to take his wife’s whip on the local power lines trail after the fateful errand. “It turned out to be a bad idea. I had to walk home with four bags of groceries and get my CJ to winch it out. Can you hear the silence at the dinner table that night?”
Power of Nature
This is Brian Ogram’s ’07 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with an M416 trailer. The photo was snapped on the Alcan Highway, Yukon Territory, Ogilvie Mountains. Brian had “stopped to admire the raw nature on an otherwise hard-core road trip” during what was “day two of four and a half, driving solo from Anchorage to Clovis, California.”
A Sinking Feeling That Winching Was Wrong
The vehicle: ’13 Jeep Wrangler JK. The owner: Bob Oliver. The situation: “Stuck axles-deep along the St Johns River in Jacksonville, Florida.” He had just bought the Jeep on his R&R from working in Northern Iraq “and was coming home from the beach with only 4 hours to catch my flight back to Irbil. My daughter wanted one last dip in the river, and as we pulled on the sand she said, ‘Dad, I think we’re sinking.’ Before I finished telling her she was just imagining it, we had sunk!” Bob’s ex-wife was behind them in an ’08 JK Unlimited—“We may not still be married, but we can always wheel together!”—and he asked her to winch them out, “but some local told her while I was in my Jeep to winch the line all the way out on the drum and then go in reverse! Next thing I know, I see the other end of the winch line go flying by me, and before I could tear into the idiot who told her to do it, he was long gone.” The story has a happy ending: They got out. Less happy ending: “Cost me $250 for a wrecker to pull me out in time for me to go home, clean up, and catch my flight.”