Recap: The First Mudslingers High-Desert Meetup

We Didn't Know If Anyone Would Show

Here's the honest truth. When we put out the call for the first Mudslingers high-desert meetup, we figured maybe a dozen rigs would roll in. We blocked out a dispersed camping spot, packed way too many hot dogs, and hoped for the best.

Forty rigs showed up.

Forty. Jeeps and Broncos and a couple of built Tacomas, a UTV contingent that rolled in deep, one beautifully ratty old CJ that half of you already know about, and a full-size that had no business being as capable as it was. People drove in from three states. Some came solo and left with a dozen new numbers in their phone. That's the whole idea.

The Run

Saturday morning we aired down in a gravel lot as the sun came up, and the sound of forty compressors and the smell of coffee is honestly one of the better ways to start a day.

The trail crew laid out two loops — a mellow scenic run for the stock and mild rigs and the families, and a longer, rockier line for the folks who came to flex something. We staggered the start so nobody was eating dust the whole day, ran tail gunners on both groups, and kept it on the radios.

Highlights from the day:

• A first-timer in a bone-stock rig cleared her first real ledge with the whole group cheering on the radio. That's the moment we do this for.
• One snapped tie rod, fixed trailside in twenty minutes with parts three different people pulled out of their rigs without being asked.
• A UTV crew that found a side wash nobody knew about and came back grinning and covered head to toe in dust.
• Zero rollovers, zero injuries, zero attitude. Exactly how we want it.

Camp

The trail's the excuse. The campfire's the point.

Saturday night everybody circled up, and that's where the meetup actually happened. Build talk and bad jokes. Veterans walking newcomers through gear lists. Somebody's Dutch oven that fed way more people than it had any right to. Kids running between the rigs while the adults argued about tire pressures like it was a religious matter.

"I came not knowing a single person. I left feeling like I'd known these folks for years. That's not nothing."

That's the line one of you sent us after, and it stuck with us, because it's the whole reason we started this.

We Tread Light

One thing we're proud of. When we broke camp Sunday, you could not tell forty rigs had been there. We packed it in, we packed it out, we doused the fire dead cold and stirred the ashes, and we did a sweep line across the whole camp for microtrash before anyone rolled out. Open land stays open when the people using it act right. Every single one of you did.

Next Time

This is happening again. Bigger, and dialed in tighter, because now we know we need more loops, more tail gunners, and roughly double the hot dogs.

If you missed this one, don't miss the next. You don't need a built rig. You don't need to know anybody. Show up with a full tank, a way to air back up, and a good attitude. We'll handle the rest.

See you in the dust.