King Of The Hammers With Outside Van
Outside Van’s photographer reflects on an epic adventure in the desert
It’s about four in the afternoon, and we’re on the tail end of a long drive, winding down a California two-laner into the desert. Danny, Outside Van’s quality control man, is my traveling companion for this trip. He’s a van length in front as we pass a small burger joint with a spray painted sign that reads, “Last Restaurant Before KOH.” There are dirt bikes and dune buggies littered all over its parking lot. A few miles later we hang a left onto an unassuming dirt road where a few small vendors are set up.
“We sure this is the right entrance?” I question over the radio.
“That’s what the map says… It does seem pretty empty, though,” he replies.
As Danny finishes his statement, we crest a ridge, revealing an enormous sea of vehicles in the distance so dense and broad that it’s hard for the mind to comprehend—like a small city cropping up from the dry lake bed.
“Holy sh*t.” I chirp again on the radio.
“Hah! Well, I guess we’re in the right place!” Danny replies
We found out about our participation in the event only three days ago. I had never heard of it, but Danny, an avid dirt biker, was familiar with its lore and immediately lit up when the opportunity was proposed. His excitement spurred me to research. The King of the Hammers is an annual two-week off-roading event in the California desert, not far outside Joshua Tree. It’s best described as some dubious offspring between Burning Man and Mad Max. Two weeks of racing gas, rowdy crowds, four-wheel everything, dirt bikin’, beer drinkin’, and fun hoggin’. In a word, awesome.
The second day’s festivities found us two miles from the primary event space, at the ‘Overland Experience.’ We were showing off one of our favorite custom van builds, Tails, when a third-party media opportunity, too good to pass up, fell in our laps. The only catch was that we would have to leave the van overnight at the ‘Overland Experience.’ As luck would have it, the co-owners of Rugged Radios, with whom we’d been chatting earlier, overheard the conversation and offered to give us a ride back to camp.
We grabbed our bags and headed across the parking lot when it came time to leave.
“That’s us over there,” Steve said, motioning. I followed the trajectory of his pointer finger across the parking lot until my eyes landed on two massively built-out trucks.
“THE TROPHY TRUCKS?!” Danny and I questioned excitedly.
“Well, technically PreRunners, but yeah,” Steve remarked with a wry smile.
Our short drive back to camp turned into two hours of high-octane fun. We shared stories, talked trucks, talked adventure vans, laughed until our stomachs hurt, and became fast friends.
Though certainly a top-five highlight, this gift of kindness and generosity was not an isolated experience. Danny and I crossed paths with tons of passionate off-roaders and overlanders. Across the board, friendliness, excitement, and good humor permeated every interaction. The entire community was there to create memories, spend time outdoors, make new friends, and celebrate the vehicles that made it possible. This mentality, the shared DNA among us all, is what makes our industry unique and attractive. Sure, the rigs are stellar – we all love them, but sometimes, a priority check is in order. It’s the experiences provoked, the freedom provided, and the folks met along the way – that’s why we’re out here; that’s the golden nugget.
