Mud Warriors

Off-roading in the spring is a dirty job. You're just the guy to do it. Playboy takes you to the wildest unpaved destinations in this year's boldest new cars, bikes and motorcycles

The snow has melted. It's spring, the season that inspired the salacious phrase "slippery when wet." For months you've stared at variations of the same image on TV and in magazines: an off-road vehicle perched on the edge of a canyon or parked near a stretch of white water. Now that the ice has thawed, it's your turn. Let the other suckers sit in traffic while you leave the placid paved highway behind. Once again it's time to play with the lubricated earth, even as your responsible side adheres to a few commonsense directives after you leave the pavement.

Rule one: Stick to established trails. They make it easier for search-and-rescue teams to locate you--or your body, if it all goes straight to hell. Which it won't if you...

Rule two: ...bring a friend, or several. As a rule, mud hounds are self-sufficient MacGyvers able to repair anything and extricate themselves from trouble. Still, some situations require an extra set of hands.

Rule three: Tread lightly. One asshole's reckless abandon can bring consequences that last for decades and provide ammunition for trail-closure advocates. Even mountain bikers, who eschew the combustion engine for the cardiovascular, have run into barbed wire or fishing line tied at throat level.

Off-roaders have a respect for nature born of mortal combat--every inch of the trail is a decision point, the catalyst for a moment of intense, focused concentration. Just when you think you have it nailed, spring adds the slapstick vector of zero traction. Think banana peel. Think mud wrestling. Think about the hot shower afterward. Why are you still sitting there?

Mud Bogger

The Land Rover Freelander likes it rough. Go ahead, give it a spanking

There's nothing like the smell of mud in the morning. We've all been mesmerized by images of mud boggers--monster-fat-tired vehicles spewing gouts of filth, tree roots and body parts. You get the notion that, given ludicrous tires and enough power, you can negotiate anything and defy the powers of suction for the ultimate escape.

This year's hottest four-wheel entry point is the Land Rover Freelander three-door ($26,995 base price for the 2.5-liter, 175-horsepower V6; landrover.com). It shares several technologies with its older, more expensive brothers, for a third of the price: Hill Descent Control and a Command Shift stick that goes from fully automatic to electronic manual sport mode. The all-terrain tires allow the vehicle to cut through mud and find more solid footing underneath. Driving a machine like this through the quicksand inspires fantasies of invulnerability. When you're cruising past mile after mile of No Trespassing signs with pictures of assault rifles on them, as we did when we test-drove this beauty, you're trusting your vehicle with your life. Breaking down is not an option.

While true off-road fanatics go for locking hubs, articulated suspensions and custom-made vehicles that look like kneecapped geckos, the Freelander runs with fun vehicles such as the Subaru Brat and the Toyota RAV4, dynamite rides you can drive off the lot and right off the road. Plus, you get the added bonus of a removable back roof for that open-cabin feel. It's brisk, comfortable and hard-nosed. Those tiny computer chips make the right traction decisions so quickly we almost felt as if we knew what we were doing. Some handy advice: Mud can collect in the hidden concaves of the wheel spokes, throwing the entire vehicle out of balance. Wash everything carefully before returning to the interstate.

great escapes

Getting Schooled

Serious off-road addicts, such as people contemplating aid work in Africa or covert operations in Afghanistan, should contact Mike Hopwood at the 4x4 Center in Williston, Vermont. In certain parts of the world, mud isn't an option; it's what happens between winters. Hopwood once took a Land Rover up the side of Mount Washington, the toughest peak on the East Coast, negotiating seven miles of glare ice, snow and mud in just 12 hours. Hell, we don't go any faster in rush hour traffic. His course ($900 a day, the4x4center.com) teaches basic and advanced handling, extrication and recovery, as well as the science of tow points and winching. The classroom: the lush steeps and valleys of Vermont's Green Mountains. Expect to get stuck a good 10 times in a lesson. If you're lucky.

Attica! Attica!

Anywhere you can find mud, rocks and beautiful scenery, you can amaze yourself. But for the early, slipperiest part of the learning curve, we recommend pay-for-play off-road asylums. The Badlands in Attica, Indiana attracts 4x4s, ATVs and dirt bikes to an 800-acre terrain park. (For information contact the Badlands Off Road Vehicle Area at 765-762-2981.) Built in an old gravel quarry, the park offers wooded trails, big drop-offs and hood-deep water. Where else can you drive through a metal storm drain 15 feet in diameter with enough momentum to launch into a four-foot-deep pond? Surrounding yourself with like-minded individuals has some advantages: The spirit of camaraderie is its own reward, plus fellow off-roadsters may have the tools and expertise to get you out of a jam.

Motor Psycho

KTM's 450 EXC will handle anything mother nature can dish out

Forget for a moment those X Games freaks who use souped-up motorcycles the way gymnasts use trampolines. When you're soaring 20 feet off the ground, who cares about handling? If you want to play in the mud, think enduro machine.

We first saw a KTM 450 EXC ($7,198; ktmusa.com) lashed to the pontoon of a float-plane--a Canadian's idea of a spare. Unlike motocross bikes that run on groomed closed courses, the EXC is designed for the outback. With a 450cc engine, it is an amazing machine, as narrow as a chain saw and just as tough. Everything that could have been torn off by a tree limb has been removed, streamlined (the rear brake lever is the size of your big toe) or strengthened (check out the beefy aluminum handlebars). At 243 pounds the bike becomes an extension of your body. Grab the loud throttle and fly. Designed to negotiate narrow trails through wet forests, dance over rocks, roots and streambeds, climb wet clay and find traction where none exists, this is the motorcycle you want when the world ends. Those of you who've had to bitch-slap a four-stroke into obedience will welcome the electric start, especially on rough terrain of slick surfaces.

When you leave the road for the mud, momentum is your friend. Keep the throttle on. You ride light, you float, you stand on the pegs to keep the center of gravity low. In mud there are no precise lines. When you grip the KTM's handlebars the feeling is akin to riding a stand-up Jet Ski, a goofy kind of swoosh that can best be described with one word: delicious.

great escapes

Holding Class Outdoors

The last time we enrolled in Gary LaPlante's school--Motoventures Dirt Bike Riding Ranch (motoventures.com), outside Temecula, California--we were surrounded by guys who could talk knowledgeably about water crossings in Tibet and the differences between the mud roads of Vietnam and the permafrost in Mongolia. Experts come here to train in all disciplines--motocross, enduro, extreme trials. Beginners come to catch on and catch up. For $175 ($325 for advanced instruction) you get a Kawasaki dirt bike, riding gear and lunch. LaPlante teaches the art of having "active legs" (standing on the foot pegs to lower the center of gravity) and useful tricks for clearing obstacles (when to wheelie, for example). The turfs include muddy lake beds, boulders and mountainsides. Intense? After two hours our odometer read only two miles. We were whipped, our riding gear soaked through from the inside. Motoventures also offers guided off-road tours in California and Arizona.

South of the Border

With the rainy season in Baja, Mexico almost over, most serious dirt riders will head to Mike's Sky Ranch, as legendary among off-road fanatics as Sturgis is to Harley riders. When you cruise down the peninsula south of Tijuana, river crossings and sand will make your forearms feel like giant hams. First-timers should go on a guided tour (contact Chris Haines at bajaoffroadtours.com; four-day tours start at $1,850). If you're stuck on the East Coast, head for Davis, West Virginia, which for years was the home of the Blackwater 200. Years ago the ultimate soul-sucking clay monster enduro race ran afoul of angry farmers with shotguns and environmentalists with lawyers, but some of the route still remains. Contact Hatfield-McCoy Trails. (800-592-2217) to find out what's open. Ride aware.

Low-Tech Wonder

Spot single-speed bikes--nothing but brakes between you and a compound fracture. Sweet!

On a bike, mud technique is simple: Stay loose, keep momentum and avoid sudden turns and braking or accelerating. Unexpected turns and sharp moves are suicide--for you and your bike.

Mud can turn a $5,000 carbon-fiber hero machine into a $150 Huffy. It derails derailleurs, turns wheels into 20-pound clay disks and sucks the life from quads and calves alike. The solution, realized a few years back by the Canadian outfit Spot Bikes (spotbikes.com), is simple: Throw away the components. Restore cycling to the single-speed purity of yesteryear. You are the gear. Biker Cristina Begy, who won the Solo 24 Hour World Championship, compares the experience to working out with ankle weights. Spot Bikes handcrafts only about 300 single-speed bikes a year, so signup fast. (We had to borrow Begy's Team 853 model for this shoot.) A basic Spot steel frame costs $699. The Team 853 with disk mounts and a custom flame paint job runs $1,199. Spot builds the rest of the bike to your specs, priced accordingly, or you can do it yourself.

Begy's bike has carbon-fiber cranks, Rock Shox and an XC-120 Full Speed Ahead stem. Grab the Magura disk brakes in inclement conditions and you'll breathe a sigh of relief. Grab them on dry land and you'll be over the handlebars before you can blink. Here's what we noticed first: Without the distraction of wondering if you're in the right gear or if your high-tech shifter is working, the bike is pure focused fun. The photo assistant on our shoot ordered one for himself.

Mountains of Fun

J.J. Jameson's like school, Dirt Camp, starts the season with weeklong sessions in Moab, Utah and Fruita, Colorado--meccas for ride monkeys--then follows the receding snow lines to Killington, Vermont; Keystone, Colorado; and Northstar, California (seven-day sessions for $1,500, one-day sessions for $100; see dirtcamp.com for schedules). Learn the secrets of shifting, braking, cornering, screaming, swearing and more from true hammerdogs. Jameson's mud tip: Use a narrow tire. Thin tires cut through the slop to get to the good stuff. Spray the whole bike with Pedro's Bike Lust or Pam and the mud will fly off. Wear glasses, but don't wipe them; just douse with water from your bottle.

Taming the Trail

In March, Moab is a zoo, in the best sense of the word. Take your single-speed on the White Rim Trail, a 100-mile trek cut by uranium explorers in the middle part of the last century. The trail doesn't get too muddy--you're some 1,000 feet above the Colorado River--but it can get wet and slick. Do it in three or four days, on your own or with a guide. Rim Tours (rimtours.com) has 20 years of experience in Moab. A three-day tour costs $575. If you've got it in you, you can also enter the 24-hour Snowshoe race near Marlinton, West Virginia. The June event is a notorious slogfest. A few years ago its sponsors spun off the milk-commercial line: Got mud?