Nissan
Xterra 5-DAY TORTURE TEST Xterra's DEATH VALLEY Initiation A
Revealing Backroad Test of Nissan's new Xterra "Off Road"
4x4
A Special Report from The Old Trailmaster:
Xterra's DEATH VALLEY Assessment
A Challenging 5-Day Backroad Trek in a new 4x4 Vehicle
(©2005 - all rights reserved)
"Washed out at the falls. Impassable to most vehicles; HC 4x4 with winch required." That was the warning from the National Park Service. It got my adrenaline pumping. Could the X make it?
April 2005 was my time for a new backroad rig. Not just another preowned, but actually time to pop for something fresh from the factory, with the latest technology auto manufacturers had to offer. It had been so long since I had owned a current set of wheels that I had no idea how great it would actually feel. My elder mom said she would rest a lot easier at night if she knew I had more reliable transportation on my remote and lonely trips to the outback. She wanted me around for a few more birthday celebrations.
The decision was a difficult one because I liked what I had, even though it was ten years old. The fact that I had spent about five-grand on after-market upgrades, and knowing that I'd never recoup that money on a resale, only added to my hesitation to get something out of the box. Yet, my personal environmental beliefs were now clearly in conflict with having a rig that weighed well over three tons and contributed far too much pollution to our atmosphere. Besides, at 154,000 miles, who knows what would break next, so I decided to clean up my act, minimize my losses, and move on.
But move on to what? There were so many SUVs out there, all claiming to be the ultimate performer, that it was difficult to separate solid fact from emotional hype. However, I had an advantage because I knew what to look for from past experience. Having been driving all manner of backroads from class-1 (easiest) to class-5 (roughest) for over 30 years in a number of very capable 4wd vehicles, certain considerations dominated my thinking and led me forward through the jungle of advertising mire (please see the end of this article for road rating descriptors). Even so, I knew I needed to carefully do my homework because I required a rig that went far beyond what was expected by the average buyer. I was not an urban SUV warrior … my new rig had to be a true backcountry exploration vehicle that would allow me to access the far reaches of nature, while minimizing the negative impact upon the land I loved.
I had another advantage. My "Old Man" had been the editor and publisher of Hot Rod Magazine in the sixties, moved on to editing Motorcyclist Magazine in the seventies, and was about to take the helm of Petersen's 4 Wheel and Off-Road Magazine at the time of his death in 1977. Everyone knew him as Bob … I called him dad. I had traveled along with him on many a professional road test of every conceivable vehicle over the years, so I still retained much of his expert savvy about how to separate Number One from the also-rans. Still, I wish I had him around now to help his chip off the old block. Somehow, he just always knew how to pick the winners.
I wished to pick the right SUV that would not let me down while engaging in my lonely safaris on five-days of primitive backcountry exploration and camping. Ordering and taking delivery of the rig were my first concerns, followed closely by actually assessing it on the real trails … if I couldn't make it in my stock SUV, how could I expect others to do it who might come along with me? And I really did want a stock SUV for a change! First, my environmental preservation paradigm was predicated on a non-modified, more Earth-friendly rig, and second, I didn't want to hand over any more money to the after-market boys. Certainly, some auto manufacturer by now made a rig that would actually navigate class-5 roads in comfort. At least that was my hope, but I knew what they were up against.
Any vehicle that performs well on both the pavement and the dirt, by necessity, ends up being a compromise. How well were the current manufacturers meeting that compromise? Would any stock rig actually take me to remote locales with comfort and safety on the highway, and then transform into a backroad vehicle that could clear nearly any obstacle that nature presented? My mom has been known to ask me on occasion when she has accompanied me four wheeling, "You call this a road?!" The task was clear. I was primed. It was up to one car maker to present me the ultimate rig!
So, in May of 2005, I began the lengthy, but fun, task of reading articles, tracking down Internet stories, going to dealers for brochures, and test driving my short-list of potential contenders. Of course, dealers will only let you drive around on the local pavement. When I asked one if I could actually take it off road for a test drive, the response was only a laugh. I had to rely on my own smarts to extrapolate from where the everyday knowledge left off and backcountry needs started. Up to this point in my life, my old 1975 Jeep CJ5 had remained my "gold standard" by which all other 4x4 rigs I owned were judged.
Immediately in my new SUV search, I eliminated rigs without a transfer case. It was essential to be able to gear down to climb over rocky roads at slow speeds, otherwise, damage to the natural world and to the rig would occur. Just that alone cut out many of the SUV hopefuls. Next, I eliminated for consideration rigs that did not come standard with a locking rear differential. Some SUV manufacturers were actually realizing there is a market out here for serious machinery, so they go the extra mile and do the differential right. The second criteria cut out a bunch more SUVs. The field was now surprisingly small … and manageable! There weren't many SUVs left to choose from for serious backroading. I needed something that I could also adapt for sleeping inside, and that it was important to me to find consensus among the hopefully unbiased testing experts.
As you already know by the title of this evaluation article, I chose the Nissan Xterra "Off Road" version. It came with four-wheel drive, five-speed automatic transmission, locking rear differential, secondary throttle response mapping for low range, ten usable inches of ground clearance, a whole host of features that are found on rigs costing much more, and, even in its previous manifestations from 1999 to 2004, got respectable reviews. But of course, this new version was built from the ground up, superior in every respect to the older ones, or so they said. I was about to find out for myself. Either the factory claims were true and I'd make it back in one piece, or some unknown weakness would rear its ugly head and leave me stranded to face my fate in Death Valley. Time for the acid test. Good thing that I can walk for hours and days at a time, and that I keep three weeks of emergency rations in my rig!
Well, by July 19th of 2005, I had finally waited for the factory in Smyrna, Tennessee to build my new baby and ship it out west for me to pick up. I parted company with a few thousand dollars necessary to have the keys and ownership papers placed in my eager hands, walked out to the parking lot, and drove the all-new X home. Three months later, when I learned that Motor Trend Magazine (from my dad's old publishing house of Petersen) had named it 2006 SUV of the Year, I knew that I couldn't have been too far off in my assessment and purchase decision (the 2006 model is unchanged from the 2005 since the latter was only presented to the public in March of its model year).
November 28, 2005 was my launch date to spend five days in Death Valley National Park, alone, and driving the most notorious roads known in the region. I had been on all of them before, and they had been known to be quite nasty in spots. Weather had a lot to do with it … after storms, you never knew what to expect out here. And August proved stormy enough to wash out several key locations sufficiently to make the National Park Service announce on their Death Valley Morning Report for Monday, November 28 the following warning for one of the many Park roads: "Goler Canyon …… Washed out at the 'falls'. Impassable to most vehicles; HC 4x4 with winch required."
It now seemed certain that I had my work cut out for me, because Goler was only the first of the challenging roadbeds I had decided to explore with this new vehicle. Beyond there, lay Echo Pass (also washed out at the falls), Steel Pass (washed out and difficult to follow), Dedeckera Canyon (no current report because no ranger had been out there recently due to its extreme remoteness and arduous driving), and maybe some other unknown surprise where mother nature had changed the build of the road. The only thing certain about Death Valley was uncertainty!
It was time to find out how Xterra's standard features like 4 wheel limited slip (ABLS), electronic locking rear differential (E-Lock), hill descent control (HDC), vehicle dynamic control (VDC), and hill start assist (HSA) behaved in the wild outback for several days, rather than on some civilized test track or convenient dirt road next to the publisher's high rise. Were these standard "Off Road" features gimmicks or reliable tools of the trade?
I had been visiting with my mom for a few days in the high desert of the Mojave prior to my trip. So far, the Xterra only had about 1500 miles on it, all street easy driving as per the Nissan break-in requirements to keep the warranty valid. Monday morning I awoke with eager anticipation (and a bit of apprehension), as I read the National Park Service road warnings. This is what I wanted … to try the Xterra in class-5 road conditions … anything less would leave me wondering. I needed to know if I could count on a stock SUV with less ground clearance than I am used to and with a host of computerized 4wd technology instead of the good-old-days mechanics. My only personal extraction device was a 2-ton hand winch that I stored in the cool gear box atop the driver's cab - gone were the days of heavy, costly, and rarely used bumper mounted winches.
I headed north around 9 AM that Monday, with my final fuel stop, prior to entering the Park, at Trona, California. I paid $2.80 per gallon instead of the $2.19 in Apple Valley. Pavement mileage so far had been averaging over 20 mpg at 55-60 miles per hour on the open road. I was happy with that, but have been told to expect more economy as the engine breaks in … we'll see. From Trona (already a lonely town in the middle of nowhere), my route took me farther north and east into the Panamint Valley, where there is a noticeable lack of human existence. But for the remains of an old late 1800s mining town called Ballarat, there is just nothing out here that would interest the average person. Of course, I'm not average, and something of extreme interest was waiting for me just 15 miles south of Ballarat. Taking the class-1 dirt Wingate Pass road south, past the Briggs gold mining operation (still producing plenty of the stuff), and driving along side of the Panamint alkali flats, I was glad that the road was dry. On a prior visit the road was covered with alkaline water from recent rains, which can leave the underside of your SUV pitted with rust spots if you don't wash it off soon.
Finally I reached the road that leads east up the alluvial fan to Goler Canyon. This road is mainly class-2, with an occasional class-3 spot. Within a couple of miles, there it was! The narrow rock-walled entrance to the only remaining 4wd road that still allows one to drive from the Panamint Valley into Death Valley. I knew that within a matter of yards around the bend I would be traversing a series of dryfalls, rock steps that eroding water carved out over time. There was no choice but to ascend them if one wishes to go on because the high and steep canyon walls allow no other route. Often, these are no major obstacle, as maintenance of the road keeps them at class-3, or maybe class-4 on a rough day. But today was different. Today the falls, bone dry this time of year, were a full-fledged class-5 … the kind of road that causes most adventurous four-wheelers to turn around for fear of damaging their expensive metalflake. I knew that my trusty Xterra was about to face its first, very serious, challenge. I knew that I was about to absolutely find out if Nissan's rock-music TV commercials appealing to the young and adventurous were true. This was the definitive experiment staring me in the face, and it required thought and preplanning.
I will drive a class-4 road without stopping usually, but the leap to class-5 can often be daunting, so I always stop, get out, and walk the obstacle several times, looking at it from every conceivable angle, and negotiating in my mind the best route to keep me roof-side-up or to keep my side panels away from the boulders. This is no time to be macho … it is a time for care and meticulous routing. The first dryfall was a moderate class-5, enough to get your adrenaline going, but lacking any real fear of losing control of the rig. Even so, it was somewhat intimidating so I put the Xterra in what I call low/low, meaning low range in the transfer case and low gear in the transmission … time to crawl! Time to see what the X could really do!
I noticed that in low range, the computer automatically cancels VDC (vehicle dynamic control) so that anything that happens is solely the responsibility of the driver - this is no time for my SUV to do something I don't want it to do. I also pushed the nifty little button to lock in the rear differential electronically, meaning that both wheels were destined to turn together no matter what, with no slippage as occurs in open differentials, or sometimes in limited slip differentials. Next, as I began to slowly accelerate towards the dryfall, I was impressed with another little Nissan enhancement to slow crawling control: secondary mapping for the throttle response slowed down the response so much that it made me feel as if I had 5.38 gears in the differential. No rig I had ever driven before had such a feature, and I was certainly impressed, considering what I was about to go over! This Xterra already had inspired enough confidence in me that I stopped mid-fall, shut off the engine, got out, and took a photo. Never done that before.
When I fired it back up again and released the emergency brake, I noticed yet another slick trick from Nissan: the Xterra held its ground and did not roll backwards down the rockface (a 2 second grace period). Gee, it seemed I could do no wrong with this SUV. The secondary throttle mapping in low/low allowed me to creep up the remaining rock fall with ease and no spinning of any tires, even though the suspension was being tweaked to the maximum laterally. Upon successfully clearing the first dryfall, I was feeling somewhat ecstatic about the Xterra's incredible abilities, realizing that it was superior to my old Jeep CJ5 when it came to traction controls and crawling ability, even though the CJ had lower gearing! The electronic age was scoring big points in my book of experience.
Oh yeah, I was happy as I easily drove over the second fall (class-3), feeling like I was unstoppable … until I rounded the next bend in the incredibly tight canyon (the walls are so high that direct sunlight rarely penetrates the deep gorge). Dryfall number three was now directly in my view, and even with my fresh victory over the preceding two, this one was in a class by itself. Here was the grand-daddy that the NPS warned, "winch required." There could be no argument that this was pure class-5 driving. In fact, that evening just prior to setting camp, I met a man driving a new Jeep Rubicon who reported to me that he stopped and walked the dryfalls earlier that morning before I got there, decided that there was no way he was going to attempt the big one, turned around, and drove many miles and hours farther on pavement to access the eastern side of Mengel Pass instead of continuing up Goler for a much quicker and more direct route.
I immediately stopped and walked this highly intimidating dryfall. It was much longer, steeper, higher, and more dangerous than fall number one. It would require a zigzag route to make it, first going as far left as possible, then turning to traverse the boulders at a diagonal to a point just until the right front fender was about to touch the cliff face on the other side, followed by a final left turn to the summit, and easy ground … all the while keeping in mind that a wrong move could cause significant damage to the SUV, with the potential to tip over in the back of my mind. Yes, I was considering turning around, but this was the perfect proving ground for the new Xterra. This would finally put to rest any debate by the Jeep camp that the X was not first-rate serious off road material! I swallowed my fear, and put it in gear.
To show how each year can change in this canyon, 12 months prior I had driven these same falls without so much as even worrying about them, as they were no more difficult than class-3. When heavy rains cascade down this funneled chasm, the loose dirt is washed away at these waterfalls, leaving exposed huge boulders and rock faces that can make vehicle travel impossible without a winch. I've heard an occasional condescending remark about Goler Canyon over the years by guys seeking the toughest route to test themselves and their rigs, saying it was too easy. Obviously they hadn't been up it during a year like this one! Since my own personal motivation for these backroad expeditions comes from my love of nature and the desire to get away from all the trappings of modern life, I intermittently find myself facing one of these intimidating passages in order to access those sweet secret spots rarely enjoyed by two-legged carbon based life forms such as myself. The only reason behind highlighting these more arduous trails in this article is to demonstrate the capability of the new Xterra, and to help anyone considering purchase of this SUV by giving information that was not available to me prior to purchase. Anyway, onward …
To make an anxious event short and sweet, I proceeded over this "winch only" dryfall as planned, with no sheet metal damage visible on the SUV. Two days later, upon inspecting the underside on a service station rack, I realized that the skidplate under the gasoline tank had been significantly scraped along its entire length by one of the huge rocks, although I was not aware of it at the time. The center of the skidplate was jammed right up against the tank in several spots (and the fuel tank is a plastic material of some sort). The plate did its job, but is now compromised enough that I won't trust it for another time out.
Some serious metal protection under the fuel tank would be a welcomed vehicle revision from the factory, because without it, a puncture could mean the end of the trail and a long hike home! I now am faced with having my welder fabricate a plate that will hold up next time out. No manufacturer gets it all right, making compromises based upon the average user of the product, but since this "Off Road" Xterra is Nissan's answer to Jeep's Rubicon, they must plan on guys like me who will actually use it for the serious class-5 stuff. They may not need to put such heavy protection on the other Xterra models of course, but their top-of-the-line "Off Road" version surely needs it! Surprisingly, some of the other skidplates they have underneath are made of a heavier metal. All are corrugated with slots for more strength. The transmission could also benefit from protection, even though it sits up relatively high and is somewhat protected by frame bracing.
Well, back to the safari! I was pretty impressed to say the least that I had successfully navigated what was, for most people, a "winch only" affair, and I attributed it to two things: 1) my experience at driving these kinds of roads since the seventies, and 2) a vehicle that takes a back seat to no other stock SUV. As I proceeded farther up the Canyon, after climbing a few more falls that were not nearly so technical in nature, I marveled at the beauty of this steep climb out of the Panamint Valley, now far below and out of sight. My new Xterra was proving to be a perfect vehicle to bring me to such solitude and grandeur!
After passing the small wooden Death Valley National Park boundary sign, I turned up a side canyon for a quick visit of the 1960s hideout of the infamous Manson family. I am glad that peace and tranquility were restored to the area, so that now it is a quiet setting with cottonwood trees and a small ranch house. Still, it was kind of creepy for me, so I headed back out to the main road and on up to Mengel Pass, the summit of this long climb. The road presented mostly class-3 resistance to the top, with one class-4 climb up a steep and off-camber hill that required the locking rear differential to navigate successfully with no slippage. Again, the secondary mapping for the throttle response was well received. At the top of the pass, I stopped and paid my respects to Carl Mengel, the old miner of the area whose ashes are buried there under a large rock cairn, and then headed down the class-3 and 4 road to my first overnight camp at Geologist's Cabin at Anvil Spring in Butte Valley. This is where I had met that fellow in the Rubicon Jeep who I mentioned earlier.
I should point out something at this juncture for anyone who has never visited Death Valley National Park. I certainly don't mean to leave the impression that all of the 900 miles of dirt backroads in the Park are as treacherous as what I have been describing for this year in Goler Canyon (and what I'll describe later in Dedeckera Canyon and the Echo Pass road). In fact, the vast majority of the SUV roads out here in this second-largest National Park are quite easy to navigate with a factory-stock SUV driven by an average driver having little or no backroad experience. Most of the roads are easy class-1 and class-2 (please see my road rating system at the end of this article) that can be driven in SUVs without a low-range transfer case and all the other items that came on the Xterra. So, please do not let my story here frighten you out of attempting to explore this magnificent backcountry! This article exists not to portray the Park as a no-man's-land, but to showcase the notable abilities of the new Nissan Xterra, which come to the forefront dramatically when experienced on the most difficult of roads. Death Valley National Park is most accurately characterized as a place where common sense, prudence, and a reliable stock vehicle will get you darn near anywhere you want to go within its boundaries. I would, however, avoid the summer months, where temperatures can soar to levels that can be deadly for the ill-prepared visitor. October through April are the most wonderful times to visit, and you'll likely get to see the Panamint Mountains decked in snow if you come January through March.
As mentioned earlier, I needed an SUV that I could sleep inside, being that I'm an old codger now who wishes a bit more comfort than afforded on cold hard ground. The Xterra delivered, and requires only a few minutes of evening prep to get all snug for some well-deserved shuteye. By folding down the 40-side of the 60/40 rear seat, sliding the passenger seat forward about a foot, and transferring my backpack and water jug to the other side of the rear cargo area, a 72 inch by 27 inch air mattress fits just perfectly in the space, allowing me to spread out my comfy warm mummy bag on top. It's a rather cozy affair once inside, and the 60-side of the rear seat allows room to undress and crawl inside the bag (rated to forty below zero). I fashioned some screen coverings that are held on by magnetic strips for the side/rear windows, and this allows me to keep them partially opened at night for great cross ventilation, keeping out pesky insects that would like to make part of me their meal. The whole preparation for sleeping takes less time than setting up a tent, and requires no annoying cleanup or drying the next morning if rain happens by during the night. It works for me, and still lets me experience the wonderful sounds and smells of nature. It's also easy to see the Milky Way and meteorites out of the X's windows.
Up at dawn the next morn, I broke down the sleeping arrangement, shaved, washed my face, and marveled at massive Striped Butte as the sun's rays began their enlightenment. After a bowl of organic oat, raisin, and cinnamon granola dowsed in organic vanilla soy milk, it was time to fire up the now-quite-dirty Xterra and be off for my second day of exploring and adventure. The fellow and his wife in the Jeep last night were the only people I had seen since fueling my rig in Trona the morning prior. It was lonely, but the feeling of being that encompasses you in such a situation is marvelous. It makes one appreciate the simplicity of life, forget about time, and realize that this Earth is a wonderful place to use as one's planetary vehicle. I explored a few class-2 and 3 roads in the area, and then headed down Warm Springs Canyon, past the butte, old mining operations, and finally crested a rise that presented the vast floor of Death Valley, stretching to the north over sixty miles with its huge alkaline salt flat. Here is found the lowest spot in America, Badwater at 282 feet below the level of the Pacific Ocean!
I skirted the south end of that salty sink, taking some pavement for several miles to the little town of Shoshone, population about 100. There, I filled that ever-emptying fuel tank, and was delighted when my calculations revealed 16.4 miles per gallon from Trona. Considering that I had spent many hours the day prior on roads ranging from class-1 to class-5, and was in four wheel drive much of the time, including low range, I had no argument with that number. Being one who highly values this planet's health, I also participate in a Kyoto Protocol type program called TerraPass, where I pay a yearly fee for my SUV's travels to offset the carbon emissions I introduce to our atmosphere. I highly recommend it to any sport utility owner who is concerned about global warming, and wants to contribute to cleaner air while enjoying the hinterlands. Further defining my environmental detoxification paradigm, I removed the petroleum-based motor oil from the X at 500 miles, replacing it with Castrol's Syntec, a fully synthetic engine lubricant. Small steps on the right road to a healthier planet.
My next destination was to cross Deadman Pass, an old freight and supply road for the miners working in the camps of Greenwater, Kunze, Furnace, and Gold Valley. Deadman Pass is an enjoyable class-2 road with very few gullies, making it an easy drive for any SUV. The Xterra's fine suspension soaks up the irregularities quite admirably. I welcomed the nice ride over the pass and north up the Greenwater Valley to Dante's View, an absolutely spectacular viewpoint for the National Park. Once at the summit, the Funeral Mountains drop off precipitously to reveal Badwater far below in the sea of salt. I had a late lunch of V8 juice, energy bars, and dried apples, and then pointed the X down the mountain, on the way to the hidden canyons south of Furnace Creek. Back on pavement for a bit, I took a leisurely drive through Twenty Mule Team Canyon (navigable by even sedans), and then stopped at the awesome Zabriskie Point to marvel and photograph the amazing wrinkles of time.
The day was fading fast however, and I still had to ascend Echo Canyon for that night's camp. For the briefest of moments, I was somewhat envious of the few families watching the parting rays of the sun at the Zabriskie parking lot, knowing they were most likely going to bed-down for the night in the comfy rooms at Furnace Creek Inn, but then I realized that I was the lucky one to be sleeping out in the untamed extremes of nature.
Once the signpost for Echo Canyon was reached, the Xterra and I made a hard right and headed up the alluvial deposits towards the mouth of the canyon. The soft class-2 road was a breeze to navigate in the X, and as we bore deeper into the reaches of the quickly darkening canyon, the huge needle-like hole in the cliff wall on the right verified the canyon as Echo. Called the Eye of the Needle, I was amazed at how awe-inspiring it appeared as the sun's warmth poured through, with the pink-clouded sky atop the spire. After another twenty minutes of evening travel, passing the fairly well preserved Inyo Mine, I reached the end of the road, where the Park Service had posted a sign of no further travel by vehicles. This would be my second night's camp, another locale punctuated by the absolute lack of other humans, and one more night of no sounds but those provided by the wild world. This was my passion, to be one with the outback.
My setup routine for camping had become second nature by now, and breaking camp the morning of the third day was even more efficient than the prior morn. Unlike Butte Valley, where the warming sun hit the Xterra precisely at 6:37 to warm me out of my sleepsack, the canyon walls of Echo kept me shaded as I performed my morning rituals of shaving, eating, and preparing for the day, making for a nippier experience. The desert can be cold on winter nights, but the day usually brings pleasant temps to warm the heart and hands.
Today I would first drive up the road to Amargosa, Nevada a ways before heading back down into Death Valley proper. This road was a side trip out of Echo Canyon, and takes the intrepid explorer up to the top of Echo Pass … if that hardy soul can successfully negotiate passage over three dry waterfalls of class-4 and 5 level. Not for the timid, this side road will certainly challenge anyone in need of going where few choose to go. Well, even though I would consider myself timid, I was desirous to learn how my new Xterra would perform, so this road was calling my name. I made the right turn in the early morning sun to find out if the new vehicle was capable of ascending what every writer of the area's roads always lists as among the toughest challenges to four wheelers in the Death Valley region. The majority of the road is class-2 and 3, with no hint of what lurks up-canyon. I knew I was getting close when it became obvious that the granite walls were closing in very tightly not far ahead … a sure sign that waterfall activity was a major factor in roadbed design.
Not to disappoint, as soon as it was only wide enough for one vehicle, the road immediately deteriorated into a sight that demanded any sensible driver, regardless of experience, to get out and walk for serious evaluation. Here were the dryfalls, my next item on the agenda, and they seemed to be amused at my arrival, as if to say, "Yesterday was easy driving, now try us!" I must admit, every time I am confronted with this type of extreme terrain whenever I'm out exploring the hinterlands, my adrenaline goes into overdrive and my inner child wants to run to safety. But based upon Monday's ease of ascending Goler Canyon's extreme dryfalls, I was at least calmed enough to know that my chances of success were high.
Fall number two, the scariest of the three, was pretty straightforward, with little choice as to the route up it. On the driver's side was a steep cliff wall, so close to the sheet metal of the SUV that you could reach out and touch it, and on the passenger's side was a drop-off over the jagged rock, deep enough to put your SUV on its side. Only inches to spare on either side made this ascent more a matter of vehicle traction ability and driver cool, than technical routing skill. I drove to a point near the top of this bone-dry waterfall, and did something that I would not have done in any other 4x4 I had owned … I stopped, shut off the engine, and got out to take a photograph (it was a long step down, and the driver's door only opened far enough that I could barely squeeze out). My worries were soothed though, because I knew once I returned from getting the shots, Nissan's multiple traction control electronics and mechanics I spoke of earlier would successfully initiate forward motion and allow me to head for dryfall number three, which was also class-5, but relatively easier (easier, not easy!).
On this trip, I did not have the time to drive on into Nevada's Amargosa Valley however, so after satisfying myself that the Xterra had the mettle to make the rugged portion of this road, I returned to my more westerly destinations in Echo Canyon below. These dry waterfalls are almost always less effort going down than up, but even then, constant vigilance and adept maneuvering are required to keep your SUV scratch-free. I had just successfully traversed the second group of Death Valley dryfalls on my trip, with no exterior damage to the rig (except for the fuel skidplate in Monday's ascent of Goler Canyon). On class-5 terrain, a major goal is always to avoid body redesign by rocks, and since the Xterra is exceptional at low-speed crawling control, that job is not quite the bugaboo it used to be in the old days.
I dare not get too overly confident though, because tomorrow I had yet to journey through the farthest reaches of challenging remoteness, through the very secluded Dedeckera Canyon. But right now, my mind was on today's travels and chores, which included stopping by the National Park Service museum to learn a little more about the region. I also needed to have the Xterra put up on a rack to observe the underside because a heavy metal rattling noise had just started to manifest itself on the way down Echo Canyon's easy class-2 road to pavement. I had to track down its source and tighten whatever it was that had apparently come loose during two days of rough and tumble backroad play.
Since Pat the mechanic was out to lunch, I went over and visited with Dave of the NPS for a bit. When I returned to Chevron, Pat and I took a test drive to hear the offending noise. He had a couple of opinions as we pulled in to hoist the X up in the air. Once up, Pat and I began going over the underbelly with a fine toothed comb, and this is when I first noticed the fuel tank skidplate damage. But that wasn't making this noise. A few minutes later, my eyes spied a nut that had worked loose on the passenger side of the front sway bar, with about three turns of thread showing, and finger loose. Pat cranked on it with his wrench and, finding nothing else, we let the now-trusted SUV down to the garage floor. That proved later to be the noise, as I never heard it again. This was a wise lesson to always check nuts and bolts for tightness, even from the factory, and certainly after each backroad adventure. Some locking nut compound applied to the threads of these little critters would also be a good idea to avoid future headaches in the middle of nowhere.
My little safari of one vehicle and one person now headed north out of Furnace Creek after a delay of a few hours … a well-spent delay from the fun of backcountry adventure, but a delay nonetheless. It seemed like everyday something would adjust my schedule and always put me behind from where I had originally planned on being at any given time. Stopping to talk to the rare person, to take photos, or whatever, were the unknowns in this adventure, and actually what kept things from becoming predictable. It was all part of the fun to be had in the natural world.
At Ubehebe Crater I was spoken to by a Law Enforcement Ranger for being in a bit of a rush in the final paved portion of road just prior to the crater. Twenty-five was the new limit, and after he advised me of this, we had an informative chat where he asked about my destination and level of preparedness. This comes from years of seeing so many tourists stranded in the backcountry, and from occasionally removing the few folks each year who underestimate Death Valley National Park and never leave alive. So, I was appreciative of his queries, and I explained to him my experience with the area and the supplies I always carried onboard for emergencies. Noting my BF Goodrich All-Terrain T/As, he commented that the Park Service was desirous of making the move to these tires on all their backroad vehicles because he had found them to be most reliable. Actually, those BFGs were the only modification I had made to my Xterra because I needed serious LT tires instead of the passenger tires that Nissan sends the "Off Road" Xterra out the door wearing from the factory. My load range D, 8 ply tires were well worth the extra investment, and I would recommend that Nissan equip this version of the Xterra with them.
The next twenty miles south of Ubehebe (a huge crater in the ground a half mile across) was the class-1 road to Teakettle Junction. I say class-1 because a Cadillac could drive the road, but the washboards are absolutely, without any doubt, as severe as they come anywhere! My last SUV could only be driven at 10-15 miles per hour on this nightmare of a road … anything faster would lead to unbearable slamming of the vehicle against the bumps and a loss of control that would send the rig off into the bushes along side. It was a brutal roadbed that would always take its toll in the form of loosened nuts and bolts and jittery nerves from the extreme shaking. Now the Xterra's suspension engineering would get its ultimate test, like no other test you're likely to read in standard magazine coverage. This was very unlike the previous class-5 trail rating, but even though it was class-1, it was extreme in its own right … time to see if the extreme terrain expert SUV would once again shine.
The road from Ubehebe turned to a graded dirt road that was in good shape, and I was doing a comfortable 35 MPH, but I could see the washboards fast approaching, where many automobiles had finally achieved enough speed to begin the destructive harmonics that led to the washboard dynamic in the first place. I maintained my speed to see what would happen … had I been in my previous SUV, I would have lost control at that speed and vibrated sideways … but not today! The Xterra amazed me as I was now in full washboard mode, with no speed reduction necessary. Sure, I could hear the annoying drone of those gremlins under my tires, and I could feel a dampened vibration, but it was fully bearable. In fact, I'd say that this road was no longer a problem at all! I could literally choose any speed I wanted and the X soaked up the misery so well that my comfort level was still just that, comfortable. Strike up another victory for Nissan's engineers. They obviously did their homework … again!
About twelve miles down the road, I came across a full size Chevy pickup with a high, stiff lift kit and heavy jumbo tires, stopped in the middle of the road. Two guys were contemplating their situation (they had passed me on the pavement a few hours earlier that day, driving well over the speed limit). Their rig was disabled because they had been vibrated sideways from the washboards into a sizable rock on the side of the road that had separated their tire from the rim completely, and shredded it in the process. Unsprung weight of huge tires and heavier suspension was the part of the culprit … you can probably guess the other ingredient to this mishap. Their spare was a standard truck tire, much smaller in diameter than those monster tires they had installed. Their day was obviously at an end, and once they changed the wheel and tire, they would have no choice but to head back to civilization (slowly) or risk further damage to their truck due to the massive variable in tire size. The driver reported to me in very confident terms that he needed no assistance, and for me to drive on around and be on my way. I agreeably complied, eager to set that night's camp. Hmmm, reminded me of the tortoise and the hare … or David and Goliath.
Eight miles later, I turned off the grand-daddy of all washboard roads at Teakettle Junction, so named because people always adorn the old wooden sign with teakettles of all sizes and shapes. Every visit to this special place brings a new vision of teapot design and imagination, some with special notes of why the area is so important to the donor. Through Lost Burro Gap I traveled, and into the very remote Hidden Valley. If you ever find yourself in this area, be sure to visit The Racetrack, where boulders slide across a dry lakebed, leaving trails in the dry crusty surface. It is fascinating, and you won't believe your eyes!
Three miles into Hidden Valley, I turned east, up the White Top Mountain road, to find a suitable locale to call it a day. Overlooking the tranquil valley below, I parked and hauled out the grub for the evening feast: hickory smoked tuna, dried apples, and a V8. Nothing fancy, but then again, if I were seeking opulence, I wouldn't be out here in the first place. My head hit the pillow and I quickly began fading away for the night, only to be awakened by the first intrusion of several cell phone calls. Service is possible out here from many locations, but when I picked up, I could see who was calling, but the signal was weak enough that no conversation was possible. After turning off the phone, I quickly signed out for the day.
Thursday was yet another wonderfully sunny and clear day, with a few scattered delicate clouds here and there. I headed on up the old, mostly class-2, jeep road to the long-abandoned mine near the summit of White Top Mountain, overlooking the sink of Death Valley a few thousand feet below. After exploring the area's dirt roads, I motored back on down to Hidden Valley and then began my ascent of Hunter Mountain, climbing to 7,000 feet, now in the Pinyon and Juniper pine trees once again, a far cry from the valley floor at Furnace Creek, both in temperature and scenery. The road was dry fortunately, because after heavy rains (rare out here) or the winter's snow, this road easily becomes impassible due to bottomless clay and mud that will suck your rig down to the frame. Never attempt this summit drive in those conditions because it will only tear up the environment and likely leave you stranded far from help of any kind. The drive is exceptionally fun and easy in dry weather though, with the ascent along the steep and narrow road quite spectacular.
Once over South Pass, my travels took me down Grapevine Canyon, still class-2, with the road making several stream crossings in scattered cottonwood trees. I was headed down into the Saline Valley, unarguably one of the most remote regions of this National Park, and only recently annexed in 1994 as part of the California Desert Protection Act, when Death Valley National Monument became a National Park. This valley road was also washboardy, but not quite as bad as The Racetrack road. Sand dunes also are found about mid-valley. They are relatively small, compared to the ones I'd be spending the night at, but still, they are interesting to behold. Just past the sand dunes was a right hand turn that a number of people make each year, but not for the reason I'd be making it.
Most folks who dare venture out here and turn east off the Saline Valley road do so for the natural warm springs to be found about five miles up the sandy and silty road, which is riddled with small washouts, but is still traversable by most 2wd vehicles in dry weather. There are palm trees, primitive campsites, grass lawns, and in-the-ground hot pools that attract folks for relaxation and medicinal purposes. It is especially popular in the colder months, when the hot water bubbling from the ground helps warm visitors camping during the chilly desert nights. Oh, one other thing you should know about Saline Warm Springs: The National Park Service has allowed it to remain a "clothing optional" destination, so be forewarned if necessary for your own personal belief paradigms of human behavior.
For me, the springs are just an interesting curiosity on my way to more incredible backcountry adventure, and I lack the time and desire to stop there. If necessary, I use the concrete block outhouse, and then I'm on my way, because the next twenty miles is the most desolate, rocky, and slow-traveling road to be found anywhere. The rocks are not large, perhaps averaging the size of a football, but there are literally millions of them everywhere! Some are sharp lava rocks from ancient floes, and many are smoother granite, but the bottom line is that you're lucky to maintain a ten mile per hour average out here, even though I would classify most of the road as class-2 difficulty, with some class-3 here and there. If there ever was a road that would terminate your tire's life, this is it. The potential for sidewall puncture is high, so always run 6 ply minimum, hopefully ones with 3 ply sidewalls!
My new Xterra did really fine ascending this road up to Steel Pass, especially with its short wheelbase, and it was quite pleasant when making the sharp turns necessary. This vehicle is very nimble, and steers without effort, making even nasty roads like this bearable. The NPS qualifies this road as "very rough road" and they are right. They also advise only experienced drivers in appropriate 4wd rigs attempt the traverse. It is also generally accepted that at least two vehicles should make this trip together, because breakdown could prove costly in this remote terrain. People have died trying to walk out of here.
My new vehicle was successful again, getting me atop Steel Pass in style. The final few yards of steep off-camber road, frightening to many folks, was handled well in the X, as if it were on flat ground. If you get the feeling that nothing can stop this vehicle from Nissan, you're in good company, for not only does it travel these rugged roads effectively, it does so to a degree that inspires extreme confidence in the SUV's capabilities. That is a great feeling as long as it does not lead the driver into a state of overconfidence, where mistakes in judgment can be made. That is driver error at that point. So, knowing what your SUV can do, and then operating sensibly within those boundaries, is the key to safe backcountry enjoyment.
I've never seen a person on the road past the warm springs or on Steel Pass. Today was no exception. I love the grand solitude up here and the beautiful scenery as the road descends the other side into the distant Dedeckera Canyon. Remaining class-2 and 3, the drive past hardened lave floes is fun, especially when you are driving right alongside old lava that is higher than your rig. After several miles, for a short period of time, you can see far down the canyon and some mighty high dunes. It is only a brief look at this point however, as the canyon narrows shortly and becomes quite challenging as it then obscures vision of the dunes.
Those dunes are my next overnight, but the wonderfully remote and challenging Dedeckera Canyon still stands between them and my safari of one. This is Dedeckera Canyon unfolding ahead, and with each turn in the trail, the canyon becomes narrower and narrower … and remember what happens when a canyon narrows to the width of one vehicle?
That's right! Water from flood runoff becomes a major road builder (or road destroyer, depending upon how you look at it). There are four rock ledges hidden in the canyon at the narrowest parts, and this scenery makes for some awesome photos of your SUV being dwarfed by large rock walls. Spend some time in here and enjoy the solitude and marvel at the wonders of the natural world, especially in the narrows, where you get a sense of just how insignificant you really are out here in this wild place.
Not long after the narrowing of the road opening, I arrived at the first rock ledge. Since I was traveling down the canyon rather than up, getting over these class-4 and 5 impediments was somewhat easier, but still, care had to be the watchword for the experience to avoid rock damage to both the undercarriage and the roof. Yes, I said roof. That's because one of the dryfalls allows the front passenger tire to drop down at the same time that the passenger roof line comes unnervingly close to a slightly overhanging rock mass (a close call in a full size rig, but not too bad in something the size of the Xterra). This year, these falls were not at the level of the Goler Canyon falls due to the dynamics of the recent weather events, but last year these were more challenging. This year however, Goler Canyon was definitely more challenging. Echo Pass always seems to be tough no matter how much rain makes the trip into Death Valley.
Dedeckera Canyon narrows are not as steep as Goler or Echo, and consequently don't seem as foreboding. With a quick walk to assess the route ahead of driving, any experienced backroads person with a decent clearance 4wd SUV should experience little trouble in this canyon. A novice, however, may become quite anxious at this portion of Dedeckera, especially if traveling from the dunes up to Steel Pass. It is the perfect learning ground for someone who wants a guaranteed challenge offered by class-4 and 5 obstacles, but not so much of a trial that dire consequences will result with miscalculation of vehicle placement. I would rate these as easier roadway barriers, but not so unproblematic as to allow unstudied passage.
The Xterra made the narrow canyon a joy to drive. Its smaller size was perfect for the tight spots, actually making them fun instead of worrisome, as a full size rig would do. Departure angle is important when driving down rock falls, and the rig's angle was well thought by the designers. The overhang of the rear bumper and body are angled upward to allow the rear tires to proceed off of a large rock or step with little worry of contact. The spare tire also sits back there, but in 2005 the engineers tucked it up farther than in previous Xterra designs, and never once during my five days did I scrape that spare tire. Speaking of angles, the approach angle, critical for traveling up dryfalls, is excellent. At the onset of the trip, I was wondering if I'd scrape or tear the plastic bumper parts up front when ascending the steep and rocky precipices, but never once did I contact the area, so my new Xterra still looks new. Only dust offered evidence that I had been somewhere and done something that regular folks generally avoid. Once I washed the rig when I got back home, only a look at the fuel tank skidplate underneath spoke to the severity of my travels, along with a few dents in the muffler.
Upon exiting Dedeckera Canyon, the Eureka Sand Dunes are in full and glorious view, and at nearly 700 feet in height from the valley floor, they are certainly very impressive. The closer I traveled down from the canyon towards the dunes, the larger they loomed before me. Few people ever see this part of Death Valley National Park due to its extremely remote location in the far northern portion of the Park, and the fact that access from anywhere is only gained on rough and/or washboardy roads. Hardly anyone comes in the way I did unless they have the experience and rig for the job, and people with sedans or camper vans can come in from the north, but most will not like the many miles of washboard road to get to the dunes. Because of this, the dunes are well-appreciated by the folks who do have the personal resolve necessary to access them. You always get the extreme feeling of privacy and seclusion out here, so it made the perfect camp for my final night in the National Park. Sunsets are usually gorgeous at the dunes!
A rattle began manifesting itself on Thursday's journey over Steel Pass, but it was minor, and only heard on the rougher bumps. It was a tinny sort of sound, as might be made if a thin section of metal was working loose at a nut. So, Friday morn as the vivid sun's rays exploded through a few wispy clouds over the Last Chance Mountains and filled the Eureka Valley with happy heat, I took a gander under the front of the Xterra to see if I could track down my elusive little aggravation. It had to be minor based upon the sound, and sure enough, it was. A nut that held one of the front skidplates had worked loose, so a simple wrench solution was forthcoming. Ahhh, freedom from rattles is pure joy to this backroad fellow, and lets me know that my X is holding up to the ultimate shaker test.
Something else I must note about this new Xterra is a sound and vibration that, at first experience, seemed as though a noteworthy malfunction was occurring, but proved to be standard operating procedure. I learned during this five-day initiation that when a vehicle has traction electronics that are automatically controlled by the truck, I had to get used to the sensory signals of operation that were normal. The ABLS, VDC, and HDC all work in harmony through the braking system of the SUV. At times while on loose surfaces in four wheel drive, I heard a hollow scraping type noise and concurrently felt a pulsation in the brake pedal. Sometimes the noise would occur when my foot was not on the brake. I committed the sensations to memory, noting that a call to my Nissan dealer was in order upon my return. Out in the field though, I referred to the owner's manual under the traction control section. In the VDC section, the manual notes, "When the VDC system is operating, you may feel a pulsation in the brake pedal and hear a noise or vibration from under the hood. This is normal and indicate that the VDC system is working properly."
Upon my return to civilization, Nissan advised that I was most likely experiencing what the manual made reference to in the Vehicle Dynamic Control section. It only happened on loose dirt roads where tire slippage occasionally occurred, or when I was trying the Hill Descent Control system. I could never make the noise or pulsation happen while on paved roads in two wheel drive. All things considered, including the fact that my Xterra only had 2800 miles on it, has led to my current conclusion that no problem exists, and that during times when the automatic braking systems are functioning on dirt roads where wheel slippage occurs or on steep hills with HDC activated, the sensations are to be expected. I was informed that if this had been an actual malfunction, that it would probably be happening during other driving times also, rather than just once in a while on rough backroads.
After a relaxing breakfast at the magnificent seldom-seen dunes, it was time to secure my load and point the new vehicle towards the northern exit of the Park. By now, my confidence in, and respect for this rig was nearly unshakable, and I felt that I had clearly made the correct purchase choice for a true go-anywhere SUV. Once I had covered the final hour of dirt road navigation and bid my favorite National Park a fond farewell, it was time to return to humankind's unnecessary upgrade to the nation's travel system … in other words, time to hit the pavement (darn).
But, being that it was now December, and being that I had some paved passes exceeding 7,000 feet in elevation ahead of me, and being that I had been observing dark and heavy storm clouds gathering along the Sierra Nevada Range all day yesterday, I knew that the likelihood of rain, ice, and snow loomed as the Xterra's final test before I could bestow upon it full-fledged "Old Trailmaster" honors. It had to get me back from my backcountry, after all, so the assessment was not quite over, albeit a different type than that experienced during the previous days.
I experienced the final testament on the newly designed Nissan Xterra "Off Road" 4x4 in these mountains. I got rain. I got ice. And I got snow. Plenty of it all. Cars were off the side. Truckers had ceased their nonstop trips. Chains were required. Blizzard conditions existed in spots. The snowplows couldn't keep it cleared away fast enough, and it made me feel like I was back in the Colorado high country where I lived for many years. That experience paid off here, and with the unstoppable Xterra under my command, progress continued on my journey back to a cozy heated living room, although that progress did slow at times.
At the highest elevations, the accumulated snow was getting deeper, the road slipperier, and the flakes driving against my windshield harder. A simple turning of the dashboard knob from 2H to 4H increased the rock-solid feel that I had come to expect of the X. My only real concern at this point was some errant or inexperienced driver careening into my rig, because the weather, while severe, was today no match for the brave little Xterra. The two of us continued, David Arkenstone playing on the fantastic CD system, without chains on the tires, and the defroster making more than enough heat to keep the windshield clear and my bones warm.
What about gasoline usage? Well, overall for the entire trip, including all the four wheeling during several days of backroad travel, including paved portions over steep mountain passes, and including several hours of highway with unbelievably strong headwinds, the average fuel consumption figured out at 18.73 miles per gallon! That's everything and everywhere I went. The absolute lowest mileage occurred, not surprisingly, on the stretch from Scotty's Castle in Death Valley to the town of Bishop, California, where 13.6 MPG was all the X eeked out due to the long and arduous drive over one of the nastiest roads to be found anywhere, a road that devours gasoline like there is no tomorrow. In my prior SUV, I was not even able to attain 9 MPG over this section. For the four wheeling portions of the trip, the average fuel consumption hovered just over 15 miles per gallon, which, to me, is nothing short of phenomenal. The highest rating was 22.42 MPG on the flat interstate averaging 60 miles per hour speed. I learned that highway numbers usually fall between 20-22 miles per gallon, and am told that this should increase as the engine breaks in a little more. My goal is 25 MPG highway because I generally drive 55 due to my personal philosophical belief system on doing as little harm as I can to the environment. It is more important to me to do my part than to arrive at my destination sooner - that is why I also joined TerraPass, as mentioned earlier.
Before I forget, perhaps a short comment or two on the automatic transmission and the independent front suspension are in order. A few remaining die-hard four wheelers will still claim that both are not what serious backroaders want on a rig. I can only speak from my extensive personal experience when I say that I prefer both! I found neither item on the Xterra to be the slightest hindrance. The auto transmission allows full concentration on the worst of obstacles, so that I can focus on terrain navigation rather than clutch and shifting in the middle of a horrible hill. My CJ5 of yore was a four-speed stick, and after ten years of it, I certainly realize the drawbacks. Even though the gearing in the auto is slightly higher than that in the Xterra manual transmission, the point is moot considering the terrain that was successfully negotiated on this trip.
And what about the old argument of "live axle" versus IFS? I most assuredly don't buy into the belief that only solid front axles perform well in class-5 terrain. I've had more solid front axles than I have independent front suspension setups, and I'll never return to a live axle after seeing how superior the independent axles are overall. The ride is no comparison in my book … IFS is more forgiving and easier over extremely rough roads. As far as articulation is concerned, the Xterra, with its independent front suspension, got me everywhere I wanted to go, with no problems, no shortage of suspension articulation in the extreme stuff, and no lack of traction. All I can say, based on over thirty years of hard core class-5 backroading, is: "It works for me!"
Yes, it was a memorable and enlightening trek. Five days in a new Xterra has shown me that automotive engineers have evolved considerably over the last thirty years. This vehicle is more comfortable, far more fuel efficient, safer, and every bit as competent at traversing the rough roads as my old Jeep CJ5. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I would rather have the new Xterra in a tight and hazardous road situation than any of my previous ones. Simply stated, this 4wd vehicle inspires exceptional confidence in the driver. I am happy to have made the choice. The only thing that could be better is when they offer an engine that is not powered by petroleum products - I will most definitely be in line to make that modification to this rig.
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