Driver’s Education : On This Tahoe Outing, You’re at the ATV Wheel Over Rough Rubicon Trail

There is no tape deck or cellular phone, not even doors or windows. Instead, you look forward to miles of bad road where you will never pass a Denny’s, and the rest rooms are behind trees.

Inconveniences are expected with an off-road adventure, but when you go with Michael Johnson, the surprise is that you will not be riding surrounded by steel in a spiffy rig named for an American Indian or a Japanese warrior but straddling what amounts to a four-wheeled motorcycle--and you will be driving it yourself, over the most notorious off-road trail of all, the Rubicon.

Since last year, Johnson has operated High Mountain Outback Adventures, Inc., believed to be a unique offering of the off-road experience to novices otherwise deprived for lack of a proper vehicle or a friend who owns one. It’s sort of a mechanized pack outfit, one difference being that when city folk venture out on trail rides, at least the horse knows what he’s doing.

Johnson’s stable consists of eight all-terrain vehicles, or ATVs--tough little four-wheel-drive, five-speed machines with handlebars and 300-cc, high-torque engines that would pull them up the side of the Arco Tower if they could get enough traction.

Without a rider, they will even float from the buoyancy in their four fat little tires, a feature handy for fording streams.

“It’s a lot more fun than sitting in a Jeep and riding down the road,” Johnson said. “You enjoy the experience of negotiating the terrain yourself.”

But it’s not for everybody. Johnson’s brochure carries a crossed circle excluding “wimps,” and warns: “This is a very physical outing.” He offers a one-day “fun ride” and a more demanding three-day “rough ride” over the most difficult parts of the trail, which is on the west side of Lake Tahoe in California.

Customers may bring their own ATVs for half-price, but everyone must sign a waiver. Johnson leads the rides wearing a World War II-surplus steel helmet and accompanied by his chocolate Labrador, Matty, who scouts the terrain ahead or rides with Johnson when she’s tired.

He equips his riders with conventional crash helmets, which have two-way radios so he can instruct them when to shift gears, how to negotiate difficult places and when to quit showing off. He advises them to wear gloves and hiking boots, not sneakers, and to resist the urge to maintain balance by planting a foot on the ground, where it can be caught in a rear wheel and foul up the drive train.

Alcohol is banned.

“One beer at this elevation (above 6,000 feet) can destroy your concentration,” Johnson said.

He also requires a driver’s license, a minimum age of 18 and a certain amount of common sense.

“I don’t try to sell this thing like you would a used car, to just anybody,” Johnson said. “There’s a certain type of individual that this is for, and others it’s not.”

There have been some long, icy silences on drives home with terrified wives.

“Because usually it’s the husband that talked them into doing it,” Johnson said. “Ninety percent of the women do well, but there are a few that are just really afraid, and they shouldn’t be coming if they are. We tell them on the phone.”

Sometimes men can’t handle it, either.

“The person that is too afraid is not thinking and will make mistakes,” Johnson said. “Sometimes people will (panic) and tense up and push the throttle on (and drive into) a rock wall. I’m saying ‘stop! . . . brake!’ in their headsets real loud, but they don’t hear it because they’re too scared and, not knowing what to do, they put that throttle on. They’ve lost control. The front tires hit the wall, take them up, and they tumble back over.

“The other extreme is the showboat or the hotdog that can get in trouble, too. I don’t know about them until I’ve got them out on the trail.

“There’s a lot of responsibility out there. Because of the logistics, there’s no help. You go up over a mountain and down into a valley, CB radios won’t get out. Cellular telephones won’t get out. If somebody gets hurt, you have to go get help, and it’s going to be hours, which is time enough for someone to go into shock and die.”

For the mechanically inclined, the ATVs are so easy to operate that a newcomer can get overconfident quickly. Johnson has had to pull a few ignition keys and tow customers behind his own machine--too late one time, unfortunately, to avoid the only injury ever suffered on one of his rides.

“A girl had to have 18 stitches in a finger when her hotdogging friend ran into her,” Johnson said.

Most of his customers have been easy to serve.

There were two men from Switzerland who started an extended tour of this country with a crash course in English, followed by the three-day ride.

Afterward, one was able to say, “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. There’s nothing like this in Switzerland.”

There also was a man from New Jersey who took the one-day ride.

“He had so much fun, two days later, he came back and went on another ride,” Johnson said. “He went home, and three months later, he got some buddies and they drove 3,000 miles back here to go on a three-day ride. Then this summer, he called and asked me for a job. I’m considering hiring him.”

Johnson, 36, had successful real estate and video rental businesses before plunging into the unexplored territory of the off-road, do-it-yourself trade.

“I’ve had a couple of good ideas in my life that I thought would work, and this is one of them,” he said. “Once I knew this was a go, I sold (the other businesses).”

One drawback has been that it’s seasonal. The Rubicon is buried under several feet of snow in winter and into spring, restricting the rides to four or five months of the year. And although Johnson was able to run it during a warm spell in February, the heavy March snows buried it again, and he had to take visiting outdoors reporters on an easier, alternate trail last week.

It was probably just as well. All were novices, some past their primes--and most thought they would just be along for the ride, not driving.

A light snow is still falling as Johnson unloads the ATVs from his custom-built trailer, tests the helmet radios and gives about three minutes of instruction. The throttle is a short lever on the right handlebar. The brakes are on the handlebars and by the right footrest. Gears are changed by moving another lever with your left foot. No cruise control or turn signals to worry about.

Then, away they go, up a narrow, twisting forest road.

At several places, the trail offers a spectacular panorama of the lake, which the Rubicon does not. With a little speed up, it’s possible to get airborne coming off high spots, but the only showoff is Johnson, who entertains with some wheelies in the fresh snow.

Later, the group stops for lunch, and Johnson builds a fire out of twigs. Tahoe is turquoise and blue below, with the snowy Sierra beyond. With the engines shut off, the only sound is the crackling of the fire.

“If we had been able to go on the Rubicon, your experience would have been totally different,” Johnson says.

Nobody is complaining. As he said, the Rubicon isn’t for everyone. Maybe less is better for some.

“I’m thinking about starting a half-day ride next year, just for folks that want to go on a little putt-putt. . . . See the lake, have a little fun,” Johnson said.

To contact High Mountain Outback Adventures, Inc., phone (916) 541-5875 or write to P.O. Box 612676, South Lake Tahoe, CA . 95761.