I've spent many hours on the trail seated next to various people. Most of the time, it's been a great way to get acquainted with a fellow off-roader. You run a trail and talk about tires, shocks, project rigs, your favorite trails and other assorted stuff. At the end of the run, you've got yourself a new friend, or at least a good acquaintance you can call to go run a trail some other time.
I say "most of the time" because there have been a few instances where I've wished to sprout wings and fly far and fast in the other direction.
Here's the most unpleasant of them all....so far:
I'm driving my '81 Toyota during a geology field trip class. This was back when the truck ran, so you know that was several years ago, but I digress. I showed up with an empty seat, and the instructor asked if it was OK if I took someone else along in my truck. No problem. The next two days were spent listening to a crusty old guy spout his worldview, and smelling his considerable body odor.
We were polar opposites. I believe in God. He was a devout atheist. I had no interest in arguing about the presence or absence of God in the universe, so I just listened and let him exercise his right to have an opinion. This guy had gone so far with his belief system as to take six months and write a book about it. Like I said, he was devout. I've been married for fourteen years, and have vowed not to stray. This guy was eyeing female classmates less than half his age, hoping for carnal knowledge if occasion permitted. I like to shower on a regular basis. This guy was stinking up my cab notwithstanding the open windows and the blasting desert air.
During the course of the field trip, we visited some of the coolest places I've yet gone in the Mojave. We slogged through the sand on the way to the top of Kelso Dunes. We camped in the shadows of the Granite Mountains. We even did a bit of tourist-style spelunking in Mitchell Caverns. I've got some good memories of the trip, and an envelope of color prints somewhere as a visual reminder, but what I can't get out of my head was just how badly I wished that truck had an ejection seat on the passenger's side.
My path might cross with yours someday, and we might even end up sharing the same vehicle on a trail for a few hours. I sincerely hope I'm not "that guy" who casts a pall over the memories of your trip. Since I don't want to print my one-time passenger's name, I'll just call him "Jackass." If I'm getting on your nerves, just tell me "You're pulling a *** I'll profusely apologize, put on a fresh layer of deodorant, and shut right up. On the other hand, if you're in my rig and I say "quit being a *** you'd better take me seriously. I just might have installed an ejection seat.
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