I Hate Mud, So My Sister Sent Me to DirtFish Rally School in a RZR

When I was first offered a chance to drive a "UTV," I thought it was a typo. I was sure they meant to write "ATV," as in "All Terrain Vehicle." I knew it was going to be on a dirt track, probably filled with giant rocks, deep crevices, water obstacles, and all the usual stuff dirt bike riders like to have in their way. In fact, dirt bikes were the closest I'd ever come to riding rough terrain, and I don't like it—too much dirt and slipping and sliding.

I'm a smooth road rider, both on bicycles and motorcycles. I love a flawless road with no imperfections that might cause my tires to lose traction and me to lose control. The latter is the most significant. I'm not fond of getting dirt on me, but really, it's the loss of control that might lead to falls and crashes, causing injury to myself or others. I really hate it.

What I do like is the control of smooth turns, especially a sharp one on a motorcycle, leaning into it, braking, then accelerating out of it. Or the speed I can obtain with the help of gravity, a sleek bicycle, a low profile, and a steep decline. It's called "bombing" down the hill, and the thrill of reaching over 30 mph (up to 47 mph at my personal best) is exhilarating.

If I lose control on a descent like this, the crash would mimic an explosion, with different parts of my bike, and likely myself, flying in different, awful directions. Yet, if I'm bombing down a hill, it's because I already know the road from experience, I've calculated the conditions. Plus, I wouldn't exceed speeds which I can safely brake and stop in time for what I can see ahead of me.

Then I was offered the opportunity to drive a Polaris RZR Turbo R on a private track and have at it. They wanted to see what I could do based solely on my normal, basic driving skills. I was the "control" in this experiment, while another driver would get actual training in an intense three-day course. I would be like the "regular" people who want to drive these vehicles and have fun bouncing around the track and its obstacles with little to no training whatsoever for dealing with giant rocks, deep crevices, or water obstacles.

We arrived at DirtFish Rally School and realized we had it all to ourselves for the whole day. There would be no distractions from other drivers, nor waiting for anyone. Past the lobby, the hallway down to the classrooms was lined with racing suits of the many rally drivers they've sponsored over the years. I knew I was heading toward some real embarrassment when I showed my "driving skills" to these professionals.

Again, there was no instruction for me before we headed outside to see the Polaris we'd be driving. Two seats, so the driver could have a friend come along. Apparently, there was also a locking compartment on the dash for your phone, as well as a built-in cooler for any cold beverages you want to bring. And there were four very large, very knobby tires, and huge coil springs indicating lots of suspension travel, and it had a lot of horsepower, and blah, blah, blah – as well as all the other doo-dads and specifications that were all very Greek to me.

What I did understand were two items. One was the adjustable (telescoping towards the seat) bar for the passenger to hold on to. The other was the four-point seat belt for both occupants. Except that this wasn't a normal five-point harness that all latched in one central point on your chest. 

This contraption consisted of a pair of shoulder straps that came over your shoulders and back down near your hips, attaching in the middle on your chest, but I couldn't pull the straps tight enough to feel snug. And then another pair of straps, one for each leg, each side starting at your hips then going down between your legs to attach under the seat, and then latching centrally over your pelvis. The lack of snugness became more important as the day went on. At least I had my own full-face motorcycle helmet. The weather was great at about 76°F with a slight cooling breeze, bright sun, and only wisps of clouds.

My first experience was as the passenger to my sister driving. Luckily, I already have great respect and confidence in her driving skills, knowing the various professional training she's had for motorcycles, dirt bikes, and years of professional driving experience on many kinds of terrain. Plus, she had just undergone the intensive three-day driving course at DirtFish.

So off she went, and we went flying. There were dips, sharp turns, large rocks to avoid and/or "surmount." One of the "ruts" in the route was a four-foot drop-off then back up into a quick right turn, and each time she hit this obstacle, I felt we might tip over. She just kept going, and each lap she drove faster, taking the turns more sharply, while I just sat back and enjoyed the roller-coaster.

I watched and noted where she braked fast then accelerated and at least vaguely how the vehicle responded. I intended to mimic her driving style as much as possible. So when it was my turn to drive, I had a decent idea of what I'd be doing, though I had no expectation of driving anywhere near her speed. Also, for my first laps, the instructor rode as my passenger, of course to assess my skills and as a precaution in case I really messed up.

I did start off a bit slowly, but that lasted only a few hundred feet. I sped up, but that first lap, I was still testing how everything felt with my hands on the wheel. How did I feel as I took that four-foot drop? Was I remembering to brake into a turn and not just take my foot off the gas? Did that actually make much of a difference?

So here's the thing. I was with professional drivers, and at some point, I knew they would give me some feedback. So I WANTED to lose control. I wanted to push this RZR enough that I wasn't sure I'd make the turn or that I felt the back wheels lose traction and freak out a little that I might crash. I went a LOT faster than I first thought I'd allow myself. And I still managed not to crash. And it was fun, and bumpy, and I over-corrected my steering quite a number of times but still got back on track.

My instructor, Nate, actually seemed genuinely surprised at the speed I maintained. I had made it clear this type of sport was not my thing, so I'm sure he expected me to drive much more carefully. Either he was genuine, or he was a pretty good actor. I'm just glad I wasn't so slow that he was thoroughly bored. The other instructor, Daniel, became my next passenger so he, too, could assess my skills. 

Both had a few tips like fully taking my foot off the gas and not just slowly letting it up, and hitting the brake more aggressively. Again, feathering was good for the streets, but not so great for speeds in a UTV. After a few laps, Daniel suggested taking the route in the opposite direction, but Nate had plans for the afternoon, so we broke for lunch and some classroom instruction.

Nate did not give much of their regular instruction spiel. The vehicle is all-wheel drive, but that really didn't clarify things for me, and with its design compared to road cars, the physics didn't really work the same way you might have expected. Nate concentrated on the power-weight-transfer concept. In a nutshell, braking causes the weight to transfer to the front wheels and gives you more power there, while accelerating transfers the weight to the back wheels, giving them more traction. 

When you brake, the weight transfers to the front, causing the front tires to have more friction than the rear tires, so you have a lot more steering control. When you accelerate, the front wheels lose traction while the weight rests on the rear tires, giving them more grip; steering is not very effective in this case, so straight is your best option. This led to discussions on how to use the techniques of braking and accelerating to help you position the vehicle to slide/drift into the turn you want without having to slow down so much. 

Brake, get your front tires gripping the dirt, do a slight turn on the wheel, and let the rear drift into the new line of direction you want. Then, as your vehicle is just coming into the new line, hit the gas so the front tires lift off the ground and you go straight in the direction you wanted. Easy-peasy.

Okay… It’s not really that easy, but the instruction was clear. When we went back out onto the track, Nate demonstrated in the most effective way. When HE hit the gas, the front tires visibly came up and the weight of the RZR shifted very noticeably onto the rear tires.

Then when he hit the brakes going into the turn, the vehicle tilted very much onto the front tires, and the rear sort of just spun to catch up to where the front tires were now pointing. Finally, he gunned it and the angle shifted again to the back, with the front tires almost lifting entirely off, and he shot straight in the new direction. I-M-P-R-E-S-S-I-V-E.

We spent the next hour going back and forth on the one 90-degree turn on the track. First in one direction, then practically making a U-turn to go at the turn from the other direction, then back again. One of the U-turns was a bit bumpier than the other, and the other one had more soft dirt to manage. Watching Kyra practice her turns, increasingly faster each time, gaining angle differentiation with increased speed and braking force, was really quite fun, too.

When it came to my turn, this is probably where I felt the least spectacular. I did get better each turn, but I don't think any of my accelerations lifted the front tires nearly as visibly, nor did my braking force and turn spin the back end as quickly as even half of what Kyra did. In fact, I never did really slide on any of the turns.

Plus, the wind shifted, and after each 90-degree turn, I'd have to stop after the U-turn to wait until the dust settled so I could see the road again. But, I did try to accelerate as fast as I could punch the gas, and brake hard into the turn attempting to slide the rear into place, so I could gun it again. After all that, Kyra and I were set free to do laps of the whole course, and both Nate and Daniel rode with each of us to give additional critiques and tips.

It had been a really fun day. When we were set free to do more laps in that last part, Kyra did several, and I wasn't entirely sure she was going to stop to let me do some. When she finally did, and I started turning my own laps, I realized not long after doing only four or five laps that I wasn't going to go any faster, so I came in. I was done.

For me, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated, especially since I expected to be nervous and drive slowly. I'm glad the experience and instruction from the others helped me understand better the dynamics of driving this type of vehicle, greatly lessening my anxiety over the anticipation of a lack of control. I never really had any lack of control, and I had a great time.

For someone who loves smooth roads and fears losing control, this UTV adventure was a revelation. I embraced the dirt, danced on the edge of control, and came out not only unscathed but exhilarated. Who knew that a day filled with mud, dust, and the thrill of almost losing it could be so liberating? Maybe I'll stick to my smooth roads, but now I know that getting a little dirty can be a whole lot of fun. Thanks, DirtFish, for the unexpected lesson in letting go and loving every bumpy minute of it.