Jeep’s Rubicon Models Prove Their Worth in the Utah Desert

Fewer than half as many people live in all of Utah as in the metro Toronto area, and of those folks, more than 80 per cent of them reside in the greater Salt Lake City area. This means the vast majority of the state’s 220,000 square kilometres are delightfully free of humans. When looking to escape a frenetic urban lifestyle in an early Canadian winter, Utah’s desert holds tremendous appeal for a mental reset.

Setting out with a couple of buddies, we wrapped up a hectic year with an even more hectic few weeks of driving and exploration, punctuated by a series of awesome peaceful moments basking in the silent vastness of the Utah desert, making it all worthwhile.

It's a Jeep Thing

Not just the place where Sister Wives got its start, Utah is an adventurist’s Mecca, offering everything from world-class snow sports, hiking, and biking to climbing, paddling, and camping, meaning no matter what your outdoorsy proclivity, this is the place for it. I have a penchant for powersports, and with more than 9 million hectares (22 million acres) of public lands under the Bureau of Land Management’s (BLM) jurisdiction, there’s a near endless series of trails and open land to explore on four wheels.

The folks at Jeep kindly loaned us both a Gladiator Rubicon and Wrangler 4xe Rubicon, and we set off from Toronto to rendezvous with another friend and his own Wrangler Rubicon in the town of Moab, a place where Jeeps are so prolific, the company has named models after the place. In fact, it became clear after the first two days that Utah is Jeep country. There are a handful of folks running Toyota Tacomas and old-school Land Cruisers, but even the Wrangler’s closest competitor, the Ford Bronco, is in scare supply. The only Broncos we spotted during our whole Utah trek were parked at Ford’s “Off Roadeo” off-road facility, where drivers can experience the vehicle’s capabilities on a cultivated set of trails and obstacles.

The famed “Jeep wave” doesn’t exist here because your hand would fall off from waving so much to other Jeeps.

Off-Road Heaven

For off-road driving enthusiasts, Moab is like a theme park. The town itself caters heavily to Jeepers, with several places providing Wranglers for rent, while others offer “Jeep Tours” around the area. The bars, cafes, and motels in the area often feature off-roading motifs and even in the off-season just before Christmas, we found several other folks exploring the trails in the area.

Apps like Trails Offroad are an incredible resource that break down routes by level of difficulty, plus provide directions, alerts, and even photos to show adventurists what they’re likely to face before they set out on any trail. The Moab area features hundreds of trails that vary from crossover-friendly gravel paths to gnarly rock climbs that’ll challenge seriously modified Jeeps. We started with the moderate Onion Creek Trail that included a few creek crossings and some neat sections that carved through tight corridors between the red rock walls. Our trio of Rubicons didn’t even break a sweat, rarely even requiring a shift into four-wheel drive.

On the second Moab day, at the end of another moderate 24-km trail, I experienced the first of several moments on this trip that had me sitting in silent awe. It was a spot so impossibly majestic that it took a moment to collect myself, legs dangling over the edge of a cliff that plunged hundreds of metres straight down to the Colorado River below, with nothing but beauty in every direction. Breathe. Reset.

Preparedness

I’m an enthusiastic off-roader, and have had the opportunity to do plenty of it in several states, provinces, and countries around the world, on both two wheels and four. I’ve volunteered with rally recovery teams, and I’ve thumped skid plates on countless rocks and stumps, and even endured blinding dust clouds. I’ve also gotten stuck more than a few times, especially when exploring mucky trails close to home. This isn’t meant to be boastful, but rather to remind you that things can go a little sideways when least expected, and it’s always better to be over-prepared than fighting for survival, lost or stuck dozens of miles from cellular service or anyone else, as both the sun and temperatures drop quickly.

Much of the rocky surfaces in central and southern Utah that we explored are grippy and make impressive climbs seem easy. The trails are often wide and there are few trees around to “pinstripe” or scrape your vehicle’s paint. But the vastness and remoteness of the area commands respect. Our group was well-equipped not only with three very capable machines, but also a veritable treasure chest of recovery tools from a heavy-duty winch, to several kinetic and recovery straps, various shackles, traction boards, tree-savers, sand anchors, and enough food and water to survive for days.

Jeep’s Rubicon trim is about as serious an offer-roader as you can get right off the showroom floor with features few other machines have. Electronically disconnecting the front sway bar gives the suspension greater articulation, helping the tires stay in contact with the ground, even on wildly uneven surfaces. And when the climb is steep and traction limited, locking both the front and rear differentials can be the difference between crawling in a smooth, slow, controlled manner to the summit versus slipping, spinning, and sliding back down. Jeep’s competitors offer an increasing number of selectable drive modes that permit the vehicle to try to figure out the best solution for the circumstances, but I prefer Jeep to let me choose the right specific mechanical tools for the job.

After some higher-speed thumps over the vast desert terrain, we came to appreciate the Jeeps’ heavy steel suspension construction and old-school live axles that are far less likely to bend or break the way a Land Cruiser, Defender, or Bronco’s more fragile components may under such abusive situations. The Wrangler and Gladiator’s underpinnings are over-built, and while that admittedly makes them inefficient and cumbersome on-road, the sheer abuse they can withstand off-road is remarkable. More than once, our Jeeps allowed us to continue down rougher parts of a trail where we watched others in lesser vehicles attempt and give up, missing out on the visual reward at the end of each path we enjoyed.

Appreciation

Surviving for days off-grid was always part of the plan once we left Moab, and we headed south to experience the variety of Utah’s geological magnificence, allowing us to roll our tires over sand, snow, gravel, rocks, and through a few rivers. We camped where permitted, treaded lightly, and stayed on trails except in areas where off-trail shenanigans are encouraged (like the dusty, open spaces near Factory Butte). I awoke several mornings with frost around the opening of my mummy bag, reluctant to leave its coziness. When I finally did unzip my tent, I’d always have my breath taken away by the sight of a soundless canyon with the dawn light painting the red and grey rock striations in an orange glow.

Our small group of off-road explorers spent an uncomfortable number of hours bouncing along trails, suffering the abuses of the Jeeps’ truck-like ride. We shivered when the sun went down too early each afternoon, and we probably didn’t eat as well as we shouldc have. But each of us were rewarded with countless moments of reflection, basking in unplugged, natural experiences that are far too rare in our modern, urban lives. We all vowed to return to Utah again in the next year and explore some more, and we were all grateful for the Jeeps that tirelessly got us to each experience.