The rising and falling road lets us know we are near. One by one, signs of civilization drop off as the miles tick by: first goes the Starbucks, then the fast food restaurants, then the liquor stores, and gas stations. Where are we headed? Only to the biggest off-road race this side of the Mexican border … we’re headed to King of the Hammers.

Beginning in 2007, when it was a paltry affair with only 12 racers and zero spectators, King of the Hammers (KOH) has exploded to become a powerhouse of off-pavement fun and madness. Nearly a decade later, that number has grown to more than 100 race teams and tens of thousands of spectators, the latter of which make up the blustering, dusty domain known as Hammertown.

For 2016, we wanted to check out the full treatment of KOH by not only speaking with the Hammertownies and gawking at their rigs, but also by putting in stakes and folding down the rear seats. That’s right, this is the real deal: the Hammertown Experience, as we call it.

Coming In Hot

Two correspondents were onsite at this year’s event: the editor, and yours truly. Given that KOH spans a vast and wide swath of land, taking two vehicles along was a must. Our editor, Steven, drove his 2005 GMC Canyon, and I drove a 2000 Toyota 4Runner. Both are two-wheel-drive, and both had to go from rough-and-tumble vehicles to mobile homes come nightfall. But more on that later.

You’re guaranteed to meet some interesting people in Hammertown.

From the minute we turned off of the Highway 247 North and onto the dirt road, we knew we were in for it, big-time. A dust cloud hung over the premises of the area, prompting one spectator to comment, “Sure beats Los Angeles.” Passing under the big, green, friendly sign saying “Welcome to Hammertown, USA,” we remarked that it might as well say “Welcome Home.”

Countless motorhomes and RVs huddled on the left side of the road, as the right side led to the wide open Means Dry Lake. The Everyman Challenge was going on as we made our way through the town, attracting spectators to the nearby hotspots of Chocolate Thunder and Backdoor. Once we parked and grabbed our media vests and credentials, we waltzed through Hammertown to grab a hot dog and mix with the locals.

A massive crowd gathered in front of the jumbotron “downtown” to follow the race.

For many, this was a first outing to KOH. “This is awesome,” said Dan Boggess, who was waiting for a friend to take him out exploring on a UTV. “It’s great to see how far this sport has come. It’s great to see how many people come out of the woodwork for this race.”

The terrain that spectators had to travel over was far less dangerous and forbidding than that of the racers, but it still had its hazards. For much of the area surrounding Hammertown, it was made up of medium-packed sand and dirt, which could be easily crossed with aired-down tires and a limited-slip differential (my hat’s off to Eaton and its Truetrac). Further out, however, it turned into soft-packed sand that only 4WDs were truly suited for, or perhaps dedicated prerunners with gutsy drivers.

If watching the race isn’t your cup of tea, there’s plenty of sand and dirt to go crazy in.

It was on such ground that I came face-to-face with another great aspect of KOH spectators: graciousness and the “off-road code.” Coming back from covering the goings-on at Claw Hammer, a canyon section near race mile 72, my 4Runner fell afoul of sand that seemed to have no bottom. I’d missed the chance to carry my momentum over to a rock section on the left side of the pathway, where traction was plentiful, and consequently got buried.

Coming to my aid was none other than Don Radtke, a KOH racer who had taken 2016 off to see things from the other side. Don was owner of the Rad Donkey team, a portmanteau of his first and last names, and his typical handle used on Internet forums. Radtke hooked my car up to his beastly 4×4 and hauled me back onto solid ground. “This is my fourth time out here,” he told me post-recovery. “I’ve camped out near Gate Four, not a lot of riffraff and all-night folks out there.” In Don’s eyes, King of the Hammers was the last great race. “I’ve done Baja, and Dakar might be harder, but King of the Hammers is what it’s all about.”

Desert Camping

A panorama of Hammertown at night.

For some people, a night spent away from home is best spent in the cozy confines of a hotel room or relative’s house. A fully-equipped bathroom, a big comfy bed, and an Internet connection does the trick for most folks. Camping does away with all of those and trades it for a fire-cooked meal, icy beer, and a sleeping bag.

Yours truly, ready to fall asleep and see what tomorrow holds.

I was highly skeptical of camping in the cold desert, surrounded by strangers (more or less) and praying that I’d brought enough layers to keep from freezing to death – weather reports stated that the temperature was expected to drop to the low 30s, after all. Nevertheless, we were here to get the Hammertown experience, and by gum, we were going to have it.

The night leading up to our expedition had me frantically running around the aisles of Walmart, grabbing anything I thought would be useful. Snacks? That’s easy, just snag a pack of Slim Jims, some jelly beans, and a bag of Sun Chips. A 32-pack of water ought to be enough. Supplies? Well, you need a cooler, preferably one bigger than a lunch pail and smaller than a coffin. Buy some ice on the way to the race, at least three bags. If you’re a beer guy like me, a six-pack does just fine.

More supplies? Yes, of course. I’ve got a sleeping bag at home, but after my last experience sleeping in my car in the middle of bone-cold nowhere, an air mattress is a must. Steven had an inverter, so he was able to run the mattress’ built-in electric pump and get it inflated. A blanket will add a layer, and I planned on wearing three sets of hoodies to stay warm.

An old washing machine drum served as our firepit.

Last but not least, we have to have a fire. Steven used an old washer drum as his firepit, which was brilliant since it was A) made of metal, and B) the holes punched into the drum acted as vents to allow more heat to radiate. We brought along just three bundles of firewood, which would prove to be our undoing as we soon learned.

Bundles one and a part of two went toward starting the fire and cooking hot dogs. We used a fold-out grill that deployed over the drum, and got the fire started using a lighter and fire starter sticks. Once dinner was finished, we were startled to find that we were already halfway through all of our logs. So let this be a lesson to you, dear reader: firewood does not last long. By our count, it varied between 10-15 minutes per log. There were places to purchase more wood within Hammertown, but we were camped a good half-mile away, and it wasn’t worth driving over to buy more and then have to navigate back in the dark.

Our night ended somewhat prematurely, and now it was time for bed. I had made the mistake of not purchasing a mattress that fit perfectly with the rear hatch closed, and so I had to deflate it enough to where it could compress and still be somewhat functional. But a deflated air mattress was about as effective as a bean bag that night, allowing my body to contort uncomfortably. Nevertheless, I flipped on the heater and ran it until the car warmed up, shut everything off, and went to sleep.

The Morning After Drill

At 7:45 am on race day, the contenders line up and await the green flag.

Once we had broken camp, we were off to go cover the race and see how the action unfolded. But it was worth looking back on the night to examine both the pros and cons.

On the plus side, we had brought most of the essentials to make camping in Hammertown both enjoyable and practical. The washing machine drum suited us perfectly, providing ample heat to stay warm, tell stories, and cook food. We also had no shortage of water, which is more important than you may realize, even in a cold month like February.

Finally, the sleeping situation was made as comfortable as possible with an air mattress, sleeping bag, and pillow. We also had the foresight to bring toilet paper, which came in handy once the porta-potties ran out inside Hammertown. Lastly, our location put us far enough away from others that we could sleep soundly without having to deal with constant engine-revving and loud music.

On the downside, for all of the stuff we prepared for, we could have prepared for a little more, especially where it concerned firewood. Our fire lasted a little over two hours at most, which was far less than we had anticipated. Communications were also poorly planned for, since our two-way radios had a fairly limited range and we had absent-mindedly tuned to the Weatherman (an official race channel) frequency without establishing alternative channels for backup. And don’t get us started on cell phone coverage; if you have to use your cell phone in Johnson Valley, you’re better off sending smoke signals.

So ended our Hammertown experience. The thrill of the event, the great people, the professionalism of the officials and staff, and the competitive nature of the racers made for a King of the Hammers that we want to do again in 2017. Check out the full recap of the race here on Off Road Xtreme, and stay tuned for more coverage in the future.

So long, Hammertown, see you in 2017!