The semi-enclosed Argo was shielding me from the cold… sorta… and I was having a ball. So why the heck shouldn’t I really test it?
This would’ve been wiser if I knew the area. The damn ATV ditch trail kept disappearing and urban sprawl was obviously encroaching rapidly on everything in the vicinity. I’d be chugging along the edge of a little cornfield on a clear ATV route and then suddenly I’d be scooting across a frontage road. I’d be like “WTF happened to the cornfield? I’m in the parking lot of a Pizza Hut!” It was confusing as all get out. (In retrospect I wish I’d stopped for pizza. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?)
Finally, a break! I spied a bit of that large trail system I’d groused about three posts ago. It was about a half mile away. I was nowhere near it and the land between us showed no ATV tracks. It was the kind of ugly reedy shit that just screams “protected”.
I was on the shoulder of a two lane divided non-interstate that had a lot of traffic. I think technically it’s called the “verge”? It’s the grassy part that slopes away from the road. It’s legal to be there on what’s called (euphemistically) the “ditch trail”. On the other hand, I didn’t see any ATV tracks. (This doesn’t mean it’s illegal, only that locals with ATVs know of a better route.) I decided to follow the road to the trail on the other side of a little swamp.
I charged out on the wide steep sidehill, well below the eye level of cars some 50 yards away and 10 yards above me. Rather unexpectedly, the damn terrain dropped out. The road stayed high and level but the adjacent ground dropped several dozen feet to a dense reedy mess at the bottom. It was about as steep as physically possible for that kind of soil. It was like God took a big open grassy football field and tilted it 60 degrees. (God knows how they mow the brush on the sidehill but the upper part was grassy. Twice a year using something with tracks I’m guessing.)
I slid on the seat (I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt!) and my feet had no purchase on the icy floor. Now I was practically prone on the stupid bench seat. Of course, the Argo didn’t give a shit. An ATV will react to a rider’s weight and they’re easy to roll. If I’d been on an ATV I’d have been lying in the mud 40’ below that spot. If I’d been in a wider UTV? I’m not sure. Well Curmudgeon, what did you just learn about the absence of ATV tracks?
Ironically, two deer stood on the steep hill munching grass. A zillion cars zooming by just 60 yards away but the deer were below the horizon and essentially invisible. Probably during hunting season there’s a thousand of them having a block party right at that spot. Clever critters. They hardly noticed me.
The Argo kept happily chugging along and I could be dead for all it cared. I kept my grip on the handlebars and aimed it DOWN so I could get my ass back in the seat where it belonged. By then I was at the bottom of the steep hill and the situation was a mess. The roadbuilders had just dumped a zillion yards of topsoil right on top of the area (swamp and all). Some half dead trees at the base were sticking out and beyond that was a sea of reeds. The edge was a brushy 10 yard wide wet confusing no-man’s zone of half frozen goop. I’d just driven right into it.
I was pretty sure the Argo would chug right through the center of that mess but who knows if the swamp was tied up in some paperwork definition of irreplaceable valuable wetland (notwithstanding they’d built a highway through it). Better to turn around in the impossibly tight spot without chewing up the reeds or getting stuck. I also wanted to get the hell out of there before someone noticed me and I wound up a laughing stock on social media somewhere. (That said, you could probably live a whole life just below passing car’s eye level and never be seen.)
I popped it into R and the beast crawled backwards up the very steep bank like it was just nuthin’! Wow! It didn’t even work hard. No spinning wheels, no loud motor noise, no shimmying… it just crawled out the mess where I’d put it like a dumbass. I broke out into a sweat but the Argo didn’t.
By then I’d had enough fun. Fuck the big trail system that I never found. I’d done a fair test of the Argo and that was the point. (I’d also changed my mood which was the true purpose.) Time to get back to my truck (and its heated cab).
Unfortunately, I had no clear idea how I’d gotten there. I just kept following the ditch trail more or less the way I’d came. It wasn’t exactly the same way but it was about right. Sometimes there were ATV tracks in the ditch, other times it disappeared into urban sprawl. I was pretty close to the dealer by then.
Then I spied it. The perfect test!
There was an area of ditch that was deeply filled with water. Flooded actually. It was about 8’ wide and maybe 40’ long. It was at least 2’ deep in the center… maybe more. It was technically in the “ditch trail” definition so why not?
I hopped out to put in the two drain plugs and then gingerly… ever so gently… drove it right into the water. Argos are supposed to float. I knew they’re amphibious. This is within their design specifications…
But, until you’ve done it, you’ve no idea! Holy shit it was awesome!
It crawled into the water (which was much deeper than I’d guessed) and then could tell from the feel that no wheels were touching the ground. Some of the water was iced over, but the Argo just smashed the thin ice. The Argo didn’t give a shit about anything really. I didn’t have to rev the engine or spin like a maniac. My feet didn’t get wet, a great splash didn’t erupt and make a mess, there was no drama at all. It slid into that spot like a duck taking to water.
I let off the throttle and just floated… amazed at what I’d just done. No shit, I’ve pulled trucks, cars, jeeps, tractors, and everything else into and out of water hazards and mud pits. I’ve a lifetime of training pounded into my head that games like this end with anything from an expensive repair to a ruined afternoon. Not so for the little Argo.
I was impressed. I named it!
“I shall call you… BattleDuck.”
Slow and easy I churned down the length of it. At the other end it caught traction easily and drove right out of the water, not so much as an inch of wheel spin. Wow!
That was so awesome! I turned around and went right back in, this time faster. I cruised to the end and back out. I think I was most impressed that I didn’t get even a drop of water on me. This was a freezing cold, hypothermia inducing, menace and the machine scarcely noticed it. BattleDuck was truly an amphibious machine. I paused and leaned over the side to check it out… I was in at least 4’ of water!
Then it happened. It’s not true that all fun leads to embarrassment but a lot does.
“What. The. HELL. Are. You. Doing!?!”
I was happily spinning down the water the third time when I heard someone shouting. I paused. I looked up. There was a guy on shore absolutely steaming with rage. He’d definitely like to kick my ass. He was accompanied by an older fellow, probably his father, who looked far less pissed but still somewhat unhappy.
What the hell was I doing?
From one point of view I was driving around in the legal ATV trail in an area that was formerly rural and had grown a lot lately.
From another point of view, I was a random asshole driving around in front of some dude’s radiator repair shop.
That’s not cool. I was super embarrassed.
“I am so sorry sir. I’m a total dick and I apologize.”
“GO. FIND. A. LAKE.”
Good point. Technically I hadn’t broken any rules but I had certainly been rude. I should have found a lake. I apologized as I started to churn to the exit point.
“Sorry, went for a test drive. Got lost. I promise you’ll never see me again.”
The father figure was mollified and chuckled a bit. This caused son to yell at him. “WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT!?!”
I’m sure it’s a faux pas to drive in some dude’s ditch but he was very pissed. Maybe he thought I was tearing up his grass? (I wasn’t, the tires weren’t even touching the ground… but how could he know that?)
By then the old guy was laughing, I was apologizing, the Argo was already crawling up onto the ground (not making any ruts!), and the dude was mad at everyone. “YOU’RE BOTH JERKS!”
I made a friendly hand wave, smiled as best I could, and (before he decided to get up close and personal) blasted down a paved frontage road at maximum Argo speed. He didn’t chase me. Whew!
Ten minutes later I’d turned it in at the dealer. “Gosh, I’m sorry but I may have pissed off a guy at the radiator shop nearby.” The salesdrone was unconcerned. “Meh, fuck him.” I suspect there’s more to the story than I know. He handed me a bunch of brochures and sent me on my way. They don’t bother hard selling Argos; either I’ll come back for it or I won’t.
Conclusion:
Argos are terrible at normal situations and so awesome at weird ones that I got screamed at by a radiator repair man.
I can’t afford an Argo but I grok their allure. I also get why you’d keep the thing far away from towns! I did feel sheepish that I’d done a rude thing… but it was one of those accidental events that just happens. Hopefully the guy finally calmed down and/or stopped yelling at his dad. I also hope y’all got a laugh out of my mild misbehavior.
Also, this happened a month ago. It tamed my Argo lust but didn’t put out the flame. I still miss BattleDuck.