ADVENTURE
F resh morning air teases at my hair and fills my lungs as it rolls in through my open windows. The June sun is already brilliant at 7 a.m., promising a warm day as I head north on Highway 95 to- wards Bunco Road. I pass the stoplight at Lancaster and 95, and the sky seems to open up, the forest draws nearer, and my anticipation builds at the prospect of getting out into the mountains like I never have before. I’ve lived in North Idaho for nearly 20 years, but today will be my first time delving deep into the Coeur d’Alene National Forest by UTV.
A ride full of laughter, adventure and lasting memories
By ABBY OWENS Photography By JOEL RINER
As I pull into the parking lot at the Bunco Trailhead, I see it is already quickly filling with trucks, trailers and off-road vehicles owned by mem- bers of the Backcountry ATV-UTV Association. I am quickly greeted by the club president and secretary, Bret Uhlich and Nancy Conley, who have invited me to join them for an all-day ride to Clark Fork. It will be about 50 miles there taking forest roads, and then another 50 miles back on a dif- ferent route that winds closer to Lake Pend Orielle. Nancy then introduces me to Jeff and Marjorie Heintz, the couple who will be generously hosting me in their four-seat UTV for the day. UTV’s, or utility task vehicles, are also known as side-by-sides and are different from ATVs, all-terrain vehicles, which are designed for single riders. While grabbing my backpack from my vehicle, I see that the group con- sists of about 15-20 machines and maybe 25-30 members. Most are re- tirees still hungry for adventure, and some have even brought their four- legged canines along for the ride. Bret and Nancy call everyone to- gether for a quick briefing around 8 a.m., and then it’s time to load up and line up. The ride leader for the
day pulls into position at the head of the pack, and someone volunteers to bring up the rear. I climb into the back seat of the Heintz’s UTV and get myself situated as engines come roar- ing to life all around us. One by one, members of our cara- van are swallowed by the forest, the next machine in line at the trailhead waiting a few seconds before rum- bling off after the rest. We’re some- where around the middle of the group, crawling forward slowly until I realize the UTV in front of us is all that’s between us and the trail. Jeff waits 10 seconds or so to give them some space, and then we’re off. Golden sunlight streams down through the trees and is cast into beams of hazy light against the dust stirred up by the UTVs. The dirt trail is lined with lush grasses and linger- ing wildflowers, the trees sometimes so dense that their leafy branches almost create a canopy over us. Jeff keeps the taillights of the vehicle ahead and the headlights of the one behind ever in sight, like bobbing red and white eyes blinking in the haze. There’s an eerie, almost prehistoric feel to it all, heightened by my aware- ness that civilization is getting fur- ther away with every turn.
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