Clint led us down an old "cat track" to the floor of the canyon, explained the general lay of the land, pointed out the sign marking a trail called Lower Martinez Canyon, and turned us loose. Yippee! Fresh rocks! Our caravan turned into the bottom of Martinez Canyon and slowly began to trundle through the verdant growth and equally abundant rocks. This was great Southwestern rockcrawling but with a twist! The canyons were as green and lush as any high-mountain ravine. Even though these trails receive somewhat regular passage, the existing tracks were often hard to spot. Clint explained that the vegetation is continuously and aggressively trying to reclaim the canyon bottoms. The routes are well-marked with a series of small wooden directional signs and numerous arrows spray-painted on the rocks. The terrain is somewhat reminiscent of the extreme trails in South Dakota's Black Hills area, but the rocks are high-traction sandstone instead of slippery gray granite. The trail generally stayed out of the standing pools of water collected in various cavities and depressions, but our tires were frequently slicked with moisture or a bit of mud from the previous day's rain.
We spent the rest of the day playing in just that one 3/4-mile route up Martinez Canyon. We couldn't help but enjoy ourselves on some of the optional exercises, seeking out rock gardens, ledges, and dry waterfalls. Granted, we took our time, playing on optional obstacles, fixing a Dana 60 axle joint, and messing with a shattered hub, but the seven hours it took us to cover such a short trail was mostly indicative of the difficulty of the terrain we were traversing. We left the canyon in late afternoon, barely beating yet another rainstorm back to camp. We entered camp tired and dirty but with immense smiles plastered on our faces!
After cutting our rockcrawling teeth the day before, we were ready for a stiffer challenge the second morning. Clint, once again, had the perfect route in mind. With some quick instructions, we dropped back into the canyon depths on the same route as the previous morning. This time, we took the route labeled Alamita Canyon and immediately submerged ourselves in the rocks. Our numbers were almost immediately cut to seven vehicles by a failed power-steering system. Without functioning power assist, moving through these rocks was a near impossibility.
The first part of the Alamita route, Lower Alamita, was much the same as the day before. Skirting standing pools of water, but charging directly through mineral difficulties, the trail offered a smorgasbord of challenge. Briefly slowed by a failed coil that was quickly diagnosed and replaced, it took us only about two and half hours to traverse the three-quarters mile of Lower Alamita. We passed the "exit" outlet back to camp and drove gleefully into the next section called Middle Alamita.
The character of the trail changed almost instantly. Gone were the wet pools and jungle-like vegetation. Now we were contending with a tight, extremely technical route roped among Jeep-size boulders. Mere inches often separated our fenders and windshields from the rocks, and the trail bounced up and around the larger rocks on extreme off-camber routes. The next quarter mile took four hours! It was the middle of the afternoon when we came to the next trail junction. Clint had instructed us to turn left if we still wanted more challenge at this point or stay right if we were interested in heading back out to camp. Left or right? Hmmm.
A quick walk up the left branch of the canyon confirmed that we would have to leave that route for another, much longer day. Rising steeply between the constrictions of narrowing canyon walls, the trail climbs very steeply through an almost nonstop series of challenges back to the canyon rim. Clint calls this section "the most difficult that has been driven on the ranch" with justifiable pride (he has driven it).