Truck Camping Remote, Solo, and International

Years ago, when revising the curriculum for my Introduction to 4WD course, I felt compelled to invent a memorable context that would explain to my students what I feel would be the most challenging situation for any off roader should an injury, illness, or vehicle problem occur in the backcountry. Vehicle problems could be mechanical failures or getting stuck. Forget challenging terrain or weather for the time being. I wanted my students to examine a problem situation on a higher plain.

Why did I feel it was important to identify a situation (context) that I felt was the most challenging when off-roading? I wanted my students to focus on the individual adventures they plan when beginning to research and organize an off-road excursion. I thought that by using a defined context of their adventure this would help them choose the best training, vehicle, accessories, survival gear, communication equipment, camping equipment, and route. If I could identify for my students the absolute most challenging off-road situation possible, they might attempt to:

• Eliminate possible challenges from their adventure (i.e. “Hey let’s get other vehicles to go with us.”) or,
• Expand their preparation (i.e. “Perhaps we should put a winch on our vehicle if we are traveling remote and solo.” “Let’s pick a different route avoiding the civil war raging in this/that country.” “We are going to be remote in Africa, let’s get Wilderness First Aid trained and build a robust first aid kit.”).

In this article, I want to define the three parts of what I feel make up the most challenging context possible when recreationally exploring or working off-road. The three components are Remote, Solo, and International (RSI).

Remote

Most off-roaders and outdoor adventure seekers enjoy journeying through and exploring remote regions. It’s why they purchased a 4WD vehicle.

Remote can mean distance from urban centers, hidden away, secluded destinations, areas beyond modern technologies, and out-of-the-way regions. One North American off-roader I had the pleasure to explore with defined remote as being the farthest distance from a Starbucks or McDonalds. Sounds almost comical but think about his statement. There’s some truth in humor.

The Remote component of the RSI context should give any mature and thoughtful off-roader pause when planning and prepping for an off-road adventure. Today’s off-road vehicles can quickly transport you beyond your physical capacity to hike out should you have a mechanical meltdown or an injury/illness. You better have an intimate knowledge of how your vehicle works, how to correctly use its trail-worthy features (lockers, downhill assist, etc.), how to perform common repairs, how to get unstuck, wilderness first aid, and emergency communication.

Solo

Let’s add a second component to the RSI context—exploring Solo. Solo means you have no other vehicles with you when you explore remotely off-road. You may have passengers in your vehicle, but vehicle-wise you are alone.

Often it is wonderful to have passengers on an off-road adventure with you, even if there’s no other vehicles along on the trip. However, passengers can be both a blessing and a curse should backcountry problems arise. Mature and experienced passengers can help in most situations. They can “spot” you over challenging terrain, repair a vehicle, provide first aid should you become injured, or help you decide to “go” or “don’t go” over challenging terrain. Those passengers that rely on you for care and safety, like children and pets, can be a liability and a responsibility. Think carefully when exploring remote and solo with passengers you absolutely must look after. Don’t avoid taking passengers that rely on you for safety and security, just consider the consequences should events cause you difficulties when Remote and Solo. Plan your backcountry excursion carefully when you venture remote and solo.

Think about the Remote and Solo situation for a few minutes. Should you have an unrepairable vehicle malfunction you may be walking out—especially if you can’t communicate remotely to professional assistance or friends and family from afar (in today’s world, I must ask, “Why don’t you have a satellite emergency communicator with you when Remote and Solo?)” What if you get stuck in compression terrain (sand, snow, mud) and you are solo? Because no other vehicles are with you, you can’t use kinetic energy recovery to get you unstuck. You will have to rely on airing down tires, your shovel, traction boards, and perhaps a winch. Why do you think companies like WARN use to call their products “self-recovery winches?” Add the solo component to being remote and you may have a real problem on your hands when a situation goes south. The off-road Remote and Solo context can and has resulted in the worst case consequence of all – death. Just ask any National Park Ranger.

Solo means you have no other vehicles with you when you explore remotely off-road. You may have passengers in your vehicle, but vehicle-wise you are alone.

International

As if Remote and Solo off-roading isn’t challenging enough, now let’s add the notion of not being in your home country. Perhaps the country you are in is a poor third world nation without much infrastructure for such things as potable water, expert vehicle repair, vehicle repair parts, cell phone connection, etc. Imagine the country you are traveling though has an increase in disease vectors (i.e. mosquitos carrying malaria sporozoites). Do you speak the local language? Are all your naturalization and legal papers in order? The International component of the RSI context has many angles that can elevate concerns for safety, security, the need for certain accessories, robust planning, and touring carefulness. When you are remote, solo, and especially international you should be driving very carefully by taking the easiest line on the trail. Be mindful of “mechanical sympathy.” Treat your vehicle as if it is a lifesaving tool, because it is.

It may sound as if I’m advocating for you to stay within the borders of your home country rather than off-roading internationally. Not at all. I am a strong advocate of adventure travel. Adventure can be elevated when exploring different countries and cultures. True adventure means taking the road less traveled – especially beyond the borders of your home country.

War Stories and Conclusion

It may sound as if I’m trying to persuade you to avoid off-roading beyond your comfort zone. Not true. What I’m recounting by defining RSI is that when you take an off-road vehicle-supported journey that embraces any two parts of this context you need to be a mature and thoughtful adventurer. This is especially true if you are taking people along on the journey that you may be principally responsible for, such as young children.

The following are a couple of personal examples of when things “went south” for me in the remote backcountry when solo, and in one case international. No doubt many of you have similar experiences. I’d love to hear your stories by email –bob.wohlers@discoveroffroading.com.

Remote, Solo, and International. The year was 1982 and I was working as General Manager of a scuba resort on the island of Cozumel, Mexico off the Yucatan Peninsula. On the island I had a California licensed 4WD Toyota truck. Every six months the truck had to be taken out of Mexico to legally reestablish the vehicle’s residency in Mexico. Believe me the Mexican police on the island often audited the legality of my vehicle – mostly because they wanted to impound and drive it themselves. This was known to happen on the island in the ‘80’s.

The nearest country to exit from my location in Mexico was Belize. To re-tag my vehicle I occasionally took some holiday to escape my work on the island and head off to Belize. I became intimate with the landscape of Belize, especially the rainforests in the mountains west of Dangriga.

On my off-road excursions in Belize, I was most certainly Remote, Solo, and International. Adding to this challenging context, I was a relatively uninformed off-roader. I was, as we shall politely say, “young and dumb.” As a fit, 30-year old, I certainly believed I was relatively bulletproof. Ha. Not.

On one excursion into the Belizean highlands during the summer rainy season, I blew out two tires on the truck. Both sidewall punctures, probably due to mud hidden sharp bamboo shoots or sharp rocks. When you have two disabled tires out of five total, you are most assuredly stuck. Even on well-traveled Belizean rainforest 4WD trails, the mud is epic during the rainy season. The mud is so unbelievable that the howler monkeys in the trees laugh at you when you get stuck, which is every five feet or so. I learned about “real” mud in Belize. We really don’t have anything like it here in the southwest United States. Here’s a short list of the other mistakes I made when traveling through the Belizean rain forests.

• Not telling anyone where I was going. Even my employees at the dive resort on Cozumel didn’t know specifically where I has headed. Nor my family or friends.
• Not being intimate with my vehicle’s features—pros and cons. (Open differentials, non-mud tires, etc.)
• Venturing a long way from an urban center and busy paved highways.
• Being rather ignorant about the Belizean wildlife and possible dangers.
• Not knowing the basics of how to get a vehicle unstuck.
• Not knowing how to repair my tire’s sidewall tears. It is this single adventure in my past that sparked my desire to write entire books on how to get unstuck off-road and in-field tire repair. You can read about these books by clicking HERE and HERE.
• Not having a spare tire carcass (a tire with no rim) besides my full spare tire.
• Not having the right tools and supplies to repair damaged tires. I didn’t have a portable compressor, tire irons, internal tire patches, a way to break the tire beads off the rims, and etc. Heck, I never even aired down my tires.
• Not having mud boots for my feet, only flip flops. Sheer stupidity on my part. I could never have walked in the mud for miles with my flip flops. Every time I took a step in the deep mud goo I left a flip flop behind. To solve the problem, I made a pair of knee-high “boots” from some rope, zip ties, and sheets of DuPont Hypalon I had in the truck to repair my Zodiac inflatable boat left in Cozumel.
• Ignoring the need for a well-stocked bug-out bag.
• Basically, being a complete ignoramus. I was infinitely more careful with my scuba diving habits and protocols than my off-roading procedures. Shame on me.

Yes, I lived through my ill planned excursions. I learned many important lessons. The lesson here for you is “Don’t be a me when I was young and dumb.” Avoid learning lessons through the “school of hard knocks.” This is especially true if you are older with a reduced aerobic capacity. It’s not my intent to over dramatize my offroad excursion in Belize, but honestly I was lucky to make it out alive. Rescuing my stuck Toyota truck? That’s another story for another day. Let’s just say it cost me money.

Remote and Solo. One of my earliest solo excursions into the Death Valley area took me to the remote San Lucas Canyon area, just below and east of the old mining town of Cerro Gordo. I made this trip in my new-to-me unmodified 1986 CJ-7. While driving along this relatively untraveled trail and about twenty miles from Highway 190, my one-month old Optima Battery experienced an internal short and died (now you know why I only use Odyssey Batteries).

As a somewhat new off-roader I did not have any emergency communication equipment (a HAM radio would have been all I could have had at this time in history), no on-board backup 12-volt battery, little water, food, and a pathetic survival bug-out-bag. Further, my analog cell phone had no connection. What did I do? Being young and inexperienced, I started to walk out to the highway since I’d not seen a vehicle all day. Checking my cell phone occasionally, I finally got a cell signal that enabled me to call out to John Miller’s Towing in Lone Pine, California. Being only a few miles from the Jeep I walked back to my vehicle to wait for Miller’s tow truck to arrive and give me the most expensive jump-start ever. Obviously, I followed the tow truck back to Lone Pine to purchase a new battery for my Jeep at the local Napa store.

Yes, I learned many lessons on this adventure. A few years later, this incident helped me recognized the value of a newly invented product by Global Star—the satellite emergency communicator called SPOT. Because of this Death Valley experience, I was a very early purchaser of the first generation SPOT satellite messenger.

Conclusion. If you are relatively new to off-roading in remote areas, avoid going solo. I encourage you to go with others that are more experienced. Learn from them. Take 4WD courses from a professional trainer. I’d love to have you take one of my 4WD courses. Go HERE to read about my courses.

Read all you can about problem solving, navigating through the backcountry, emergency communications, survival, and wilderness first aid. Gather the accessories and tools needed to solve problems in the remote backcountry. When problems arise, use the STOPA protocol: Stop, Think, Observe, Plan, then Act. Don’t get frustrated and don’t lose hope. Develop a will to live. Work methodically through your problems, one at a time.

In the book and movie, The Martian, probably one of the best fictional survival stories of all time, astronaut Mark Watney (actor Matt Damon) famously says when he realizes he is stranded on Mars:

“In the face of overwhelming odds, I’m left with only one option…

I’m going to have to science the shit out of this.

“You just begin. You do the math. You solve one problem, and you solve the next one, and the next. And if you solve enough problems, you get to come home.”

To put in perspective any off-roading challenge you may have when Remote, Solo, and International, consider Mark Watney’s unique context. He was RSOP—Remote, Solo, and Off Planet. I doubt that any problem you might face off-road on THIS planet could be as bad. If he can make it home considering his dire situation, so can we. Drive safely. Accelerate your learning and upgrade your off-road and survival skills. Live Long to Wander.

Editor’s Note: Bob Wohlers will be teaching an off-road clinic at the 2025 Truck Camper Adventure Quartzsite Rally. If you haven’t done so before, this will be a golden opportunity to meet Bob and attend one of his classes.