Yesterday, we were invited for breakfast by friends who live adjacent to a local farm. They share a private dirt road with the farmer. The road loops around, about a mile long. We had several inches of rain on Saturday, so the road was exceptionally muddy, already chewed up by the farm equipment. Deep mud in some places. I could use the paved roadway on the opposite side of the farm, and I would have if we had been driving one of the cars as this road is in rough shape. But, we had the Jeep... Two circuits of the road left me with one very filthy, mud bathed JK. We were late for breakfast, so I had to call an end to the entertainment.

Just after noon, when we left, my wife wanted to stop at the farm stand and pick up another large pumpkin (she makes about a dozen pies each fall). The parking lot is dirt and rather muddy as well. I parked close to the grass so she didn't have to walk in the muck. While she's browsing, I spot an Unlimited Sahara pull in. The driver carefully avoids any mud and parks on the grass. He and his lady friend get out and tip-toe around the mud puddles. I wandered over and examine his Wrangler. After market off-road bumpers front and rear. Looks like a 3" lift. 35" Cepek Mud Country rubber on aftermarket wheels. He still has the standard plastic Sahara side steps. I glance at the inspection sticker... A dealer sticker, expires at the end of December, probably a 2009. I squat down and take a look underneath. Pristine... All those nooks and voids where mud accumulates (and you can't get it easily cleaned out) are spotless. No scratches on the frame, skidplates or exhaust system, no rub marks anywhere.

I'm thinking that this JK hasn't been off road yet....

My wife comes out the gate with some teenager manning a wheel barrel with two big pumpkins in it. I load them in the back and we head out. As we come up on the Black Sahara, I see the owner. I roll down the window.

"That's a nice Wrangler you've built there."

Looking at my mud covered JK, he says, "Thanks, we like it."

"2009?"

"Yes."

"Nice. It needs one thing though..."

He looks at me, wondering what I mean.

"Don't be afraid to get it dirty. It needs to know you love it."

His expression indicates that he has no idea what I'm talking about.

"Take care and good luck with it."

With the guy looking baffled, I drive away, not avoiding mud puddles and turn onto the road.

My wife looks at me. "I really don't think he want's to get mud on it."

"Ya think?"

Maybe, someday...


My regards,

Widewing

 

I would never spend money on lifting a vehicle just to make it "look cool".

A few years back when I sold Jeeps, you have no idea how many guys going though a midlife crisis came in and bought Rubicons. They always wanted leather, Sahara side steps, and a lift and 35s. They never took them off road and wouldn't take anything less than a Rubicon.

 

...hmmm....

 

I'm not knocking Rubicons, I have one. I just thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn't even consider a Sahara or an X.

 

A large portion of the pick-up trucks in this part of the country are lifted and have larger-than-stock tires. And they are all as pristine as can be. I always wonder, why bother? It looks cool? That's silly.

One of the silliest things I saw recently was a pick-up with rear taillight guards. I don't mind the guards--even have them on my Jeep. But these were extra wide, sticking out past the width of the vehicle a good 2-inches or more. I remember thinking that made them pretty useless on some of the narrow trails we have here in Oklahoma--a limb scratching it's way down that freshly washed and waxed paint would catch that lens guard and flip it around, likely breaking both the guard and the lens, and maybe throwing in some bent sheetmetal for good measure.

Bottom line: If you're just going to drive it on the street, it comes from the factory perfectly capable of that.

BTW, Widewing, sounds like you did a nice job giving him a hint how to have a lot more fun with his Jeep.

 

I was just poking a little fun at myself.
At 57, I believe I made it past the mid-life crisis stage without having one.
Maybe 37 years in the military kept me too busy to notice.