Story by: Hallie Vail / Photos by Graham Letorney

Last year, I spoke of Winter Romp and its excessive extracurricular activities. There’s no need to speak of them this year but I must first off clear my name to anyone who was in the side room at Big G’s Sunday morning. Contrary to John Cranfield’s accusation, I did not single-handedly keep the entire hotel up all night; there were other perpetrators but I will keep it at that to save their reuputations.

Winter Romp has sadly come and gone. I no doubt had my countdown, told all my friends, and even convinced two gals to hit the trails with me: Steph, who now has a few rallies under her belt and Amy, who had never been to Maine or been acquainted with Rover owners other than me. With the help of Rovers North they can let everyone know first hand what they thought, hopefully nothing too detailed! As for me, even though I had the time of my life, I always come away with something more than some good chuckles.

To my surprise someone thought it would be a good idea to allow me to lead a group into the woods. I’m confident with my sense of direction and the map was more than detailed; however, I was a bit shaky on how well I could guide fellow Rover-owners over any problematic terrain. One thing I look for in a leader or other drivers in the front of a caravan, is how they maneuver over rough spots. I can recall one year, on the old railroad bed, Bruce Fowler winched his truck over a bit of running water. By him not ripping up the ice, to have the satisfaction of crossing with his own four wheels, he leaves minor breaks and cracks for the rest of the herd to stampede at will.

Leaders are also considered for the job because they are skilled offroaders. They either know the trail because of a trial run or have the sense and ability to react to any mishaps. By watching or listening to how they succeeded (or how they did not) the other drivers have a rudimentary how-to lesson on driving. This being my first attempt at the position of a “leader,” I had to make do with what I knew or could quickly learn. I first off did a swell job leading my troops by trying to put us on the trucker-band on the CB’s (great going Hallie).

Our second battle began at the bottom of the power line hill on the Dickey Road. A group ahead of us tackled the incline while we chained up our tires. While I was thigh-high in snow and covered in rust from chains that hadn’t seen light since last year’s Romp, I was kindly introduced to a newcomer named Sophie. After talking to her later that day, I was reminded of a story Jeff Aronson did years ago where he spoke of a boy genius by the name of Nathan Vail, aka “my big bro.” At the time he was a young, quiet spoken boy but given the opportunity would challenge any adult’s knowledge on Rover parts. Young Sophie is right on his heels as I soon found out when she described her Dad’s truck as the one with the snorkel (high-five Sophie!!). With the chains secured, we moved onward through the trail. Luckily, we were close enough to the other group where I had been told, and checked out first hand, which route was most successful. With a few corrections and assistance, all trucks made it up the hill climb with little damage. Unfortunately, most damage from the weekend fell on Bob Vail’s (my father) shoulders. Friday night, he suffered a bit of an electrical problem [with the fuel pump] and half way up the hill Saturday, his water pump gave away.

Before we moved onward down the trail, I had to make my way to the front again but not until I gracefully backed into Jeremy Libby’s D-90. If anyone’s counting, that’s zero for Hallie and two for whoever is against me leading. Moving on… the trail was kind to most of us here on out. A few tight turns made it slow-going and I again managed to sink in a muddy slush (three). Most everyone else learned from my mistake and took the mud with more power and speed.

I look back and though I blush at my mishaps, I do understand it’s a constant learning process and no one will fully master the art of off-roading. There will always be rocks in just the wrong place, a mud hole deeper than expected, or a slip of the clutch that takes away your power. However, I’m eager to improve and determined to regain some of my pride. Until then, I bow down to the veterans at Winter Romp and other events who continue to give newer off road drivers like me the support and encouragement to keep working on a hill or the confidence that I can complete difficult trails. I had a blast as usual this weekend and already have plans for next year. Until then I’ll hone down on my driving skills and my Borat speech, both key components to a successful Winter Romp. Rover and Out Landy lovers!

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