Colorado SXS Adventures

🎃 Happy Halloween from Colorado SxS Adventures! 🎃

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

As the nights get longer and the air turns crisp, here’s to spooky trails and good company. May your lights shine bright, your tires stay sure, and your candy bag never come up empty.

Whether you’re snowbashing solo, riding with your co-pilot, or laughing by the fire, take a moment to enjoy this hauntingly beautiful time of year. Watch those glowing eyes in the woods (hopefully deer!), and remember — the only thing scarier than ghosts is running out of gas halfway down the trail.

Ride safe, ride smart, and have a wickedly fun Halloween out there! 🕸️👻🍫

⚠️ WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

This Trail Tale is not for the faint of heart. Disturbing, bloody details ahead.

What We Found in the Timber

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

The storm rolled in without warning. Lightning lit up the ridgeline, thunder shaking the valley floor. We pulled off into a stand of dark timber, thinking we’d wait it out. That was the mistake.

The smell hit us first—sweet, rotten, heavy in the back of the throat. We thought maybe a dead elk. Then the beam of my light caught something pale between the trees. Not animal hide. Skin.

A body sat propped against a stump. Eyes wide open, mouth frozen mid-scream. Whoever it was had been gutted from throat to belly, ribs spread apart like someone wanted to look inside. And the worst part—the blood wasn’t dry.

Before we could move, the forest went quiet. No wind. No rain. Just the sound of boots dragging through wet needles.

I swung my light and caught a face, half hidden by a hoodie. Except the face wasn’t whole. Strips of skin hung loose, eyes clouded white, lips pulled back over yellow teeth. He wasn’t stumbling—he was stalking. Each step slow, deliberate, like he’d been waiting for us.

We ran for the rigs, fumbling keys, engines coughing to life. Headlights cut through the storm, but in every flash of lightning he was closer—first twenty yards back, then ten, then right alongside, his hands slapping against the door as we clawed up the switchbacks.

By the time we hit the trailhead, we thought we’d lost him. But when I killed the engine, I heard it—a loud scraping sound. I turned, and there it was, carved deep into my door with something sharp: DON’T COME BACK.

Two weeks later, search crews went in. They didn’t find the body we saw. But they found something else—fresh piles of entrails strung up in the trees, still dripping.

And every rider who’s gone back since swears the same thing: the storm doesn’t hit until you’re in the timber, and once it does… terror starts!

The 10mm Socket Conspiracy

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

Do you know where your 10mm socket is? Yeah… me neither.

I swear, the 10mm conspiracy is real. Somewhere, in a dark corner of every garage, there’s a black hole made entirely of missing 10mm sockets. I’m currently short three of them—again. I know I had them at one point, but they’ve joined the ranks of the lost: right next to that one T-30 Torx bit and the half-used tube of anti-seize.

It makes perfect sense when you think about it. The 10mm bolt and nut are the most common fasteners on the planet, which means the 10mm socket is the most-used tool in any box. But it’s also small enough to roll away, fall into engine bays, or vanish into thin air the moment you set it down. It’s like it’s got a built-in cloaking device.

And here’s the kicker—whichever size you need right now is the one that’s missing. You can stare into your socket set and swear there’s a little gap that wasn’t there five minutes ago. Then, the next time you go hunting for a 12mm, two 10mms magically reappear like they’ve been there the whole time. Murphy’s Law? Absolutely. Some days I think there’s a cosmic mechanic laughing somewhere, swapping sockets between dimensions just to mess with us.

Losing a 10mm socket doesn’t ruin the whole set, but it sure feels like it. You can buy a single replacement—if you enjoy paying five bucks for something the size of a cough drop—or you can buy a whole new set just to get one. Guess which one we all end up doing?

For me, the deep ¼” drive 10mm is always the first to go, followed by the standard ⅜”, then the 10mm wrench, and eventually both the deep and standard ⅜” drive sockets. The order might change depending on which one’s easiest to grab—and lose. There’s no imperial size close enough to substitute, either. If there were, those would be missing too.

But if your 11mm sockets start disappearing… well, my friend, you might have bigger problems. Possibly supernatural ones. Might be time for a socket intervention—or at least a therapy session with your toolbox.

Until then, check under your workbench, behind the air compressor, or in the fender well of your RZR. Because one thing’s for sure—your 10mm socket isn’t gone. It’s just hiding… waiting for the next time you really, really need it.

Should SxS Owner/Operator Education Be Mandatory?

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

A huge debate is happening—and I can’t for the life of me understand why more social media platforms aren’t talking about this. The conversation is heating up in the off-road community, especially as Side-by-Sides (SxSs) become faster, heavier, and more accessible to first-time riders.

Owner/Operator Pre-Trail or Pre-Buy Education:
Safety, etiquette, and the general do’s and don’ts.

Here’s my breakdown...

🔷 PROS vs CONS

The Case For Mandatory Education

1. Safety and Trail Preservation
New riders often underestimate how quickly things can go wrong—not just for themselves but for others on the trail. A short, required orientation could cover:

Trail etiquette (right-of-way, speed limits, yielding to non-motorized users)

Tread Lightly principles and Leave No Trace ethics

Basic vehicle control and terrain awareness

Fire safety and spill prevention

That kind of knowledge could prevent a lot of avoidable wrecks, forest damage, and bad press for the sport.

2. It Works Elsewhere
States like Oregon, Utah, and Arizona already require online OHV education cards or “safety certificates.” They’re free, take about 30–45 minutes, and cover core riding ethics and legal basics. Many SxS riders who complete them say it improved their awareness and confidence.

Colorado, by contrast, only requires registration—not education—which means a lot of brand-new riders hit the trail with zero understanding of how to safely operate or share space.

3. Protecting the Sport’s Future
Every time an uneducated rider causes damage, posts a reckless video, or ticks off a land manager, it hurts everyone. Education could be the first line of defense against future closures and regulation overload.

---

The Case Against Mandatory Education

1. Bureaucracy and Access
Some riders worry it would add unnecessary red tape, especially for occasional visitors or older riders who aren’t tech-savvy.

2. Overlap with Experience
Many longtime ATV or dirt-bike riders already know the rules, and forcing them to take an online course might feel redundant or patronizing.

3. Enforcement Challenges
Without a clear statewide framework (like requiring proof with OHV registration), compliance could be spotty—and it risks becoming another “feel-good rule” that doesn’t get enforced.

---

A Balanced Approach

A mandatory-but-simple online course—free, 30 minutes long, and tied to OHV registration—might be the best compromise.

It wouldn’t burden experienced riders, but it would ensure that everyone, especially first-time owners, learns the fundamentals before hitting the trail.

Think of it as a “Trail License”—not to restrict riders, but to protect the sport for future generations.

Ride With Pride

Whether mandatory or not, we owe it to each other to ride smart, safe, and respectful.
Our trails, our reputation, and our access depend on it.

Education doesn’t take away freedom—it preserves it.
And if we want to keep riding the places we love, maybe it’s time we all start setting the example.

Ride safe. Ride smart. Ride with pride.

How to Look Cool While Getting Unstuck (You Can’t)

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

There’s a moment in every off-roader’s life when confidence meets karma—and karma wins. It’s the moment you realize that no amount of horsepower, fancy tires, or locker switches will help because, my friend… you are stuck.

And not just “a little stuck.” We’re talking about the kind of stuck that makes the Earth claim partial ownership of your SxS.

The first rule of getting stuck is denial. You gun it once, twice, three times—throwing mud 40 feet in the air like you’re powering through it. But deep down, you know you’re not going anywhere. The tires spin, your co-pilot sighs, and the group radios crackle with laughter.

Then comes the awkward part: the walk of shame.
You get out, look at your rig from different angles, and mumble things like, “Yeah, it’s not that bad.” Meanwhile, your buddies are taking photos faster than paparazzi at a red carpet event.

One guy always yells, “Need a winch, hero?”
Another says, “Just air down and send it!” (He’s lying. He just wants to watch the show.)

You try to play it cool while wading ankle-deep in mud, pretending you’re “strategically assessing the situation.” But everyone knows the truth—you’re one bad step away from face-planting.

Even worse, once you’re finally pulled out, you’ve got to deal with the unsolicited advice:

“You should’ve taken a better line.”

“I told you that hole was deeper than it looked.”

“You want me to drive it for you next time?”

Yeah, sure, buddy. Why don’t you come over here and hold this tow strap while I accidentally spray you with rooster tails?

Let’s be honest—there’s no cool way to get unstuck. None. You’re covered in mud, your ego’s deflated, and the co-pilot’s already working on a new nickname for you.

But here’s the thing—every SxS rider’s been there. It’s a rite of passage. You’re not a real off-roader until you’ve been humbled by Mother Nature and publicly roasted by your friends.

So own it. Laugh it off. Take the pictures before they do. And remember—next time someone else gets stuck, you get to hold the camera.

Because payback, my friends, is always best served muddy.

The Struggle to Write When the Holidays Roll In

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

Seriously, this is a problem, but I've learned to live with it. Every year, about the time the first Christmas lights start to twinkle and the stores roll out the peppermint everything, I hit a creative wall. It’s not that I’ve run out of stories—Lord knows there are still plenty rolling around in my head—but something about the holiday season makes it hard to sit down and put words on paper. Yes, friends, I still do it the old-fashioned way to start—scribbling notes on paper, napkins, and even hamburger wrappers.

There’s this constant hum of distraction in the air. My mind drifts from writing to things like Christmas lists, travel plans, and making sure the coffee pot doesn’t run. The holidays have their own rhythm—part excitement, part chaos—and it’s tough to find a quiet space to think, let alone write.

Writing for Colorado SxS Adventures has always been about slowing down, reflecting, and sharing those in-between moments on the trail—the smell of the mountain air, the crunch of tires on frozen dirt, the silence after shutting off the engine. But this time of year, even the silence feels crowded. The to-do lists are longer, the days are shorter, and the trails I’d rather be riding are covered in snow—or family obligations.

Still, there’s something grounding about it all. The holidays remind me why I write in the first place—to connect. To tell stories that make someone else nod, laugh, or feel that itch to go explore again once the chaos settles.

So if I’m a little quieter on the blog through November and December, it’s not because I’ve run out of things to say. It’s because life’s steering me down a different kind of trail—the one lined with twinkling lights, laughter, and the smell of holiday cooking. And honestly, that’s not a bad detour.

I’ll continue to post blog articles—they’ll just slow down a little.

Thank you, all of you who follow, like, share and comment.
It's truly my pleasure to inform, educate and entertain you.

Doug

SxS’s ARE NOT SAFE!!!

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

Yep… you read that right!
In fact, I urge you to go back and read the title again.

SxS’s are NOT safe.

You know why? Because there’s a bunch of idiots out there who don’t know a single thing about these machines—and they’re the ones buying them. They don’t have the mental horsepower to realize it’s not the machine that’s unsafe… it’s the dummy behind the wheel!

If you’re asking questions like:

> “Are SxS’s safe?”
“Are they safe for my family?”

Then my answer is: NO. No, they’re not.
And please—don’t buy one.
Because I don’t want you out on the trail with me!

Holy banana peel on a houseboat, I’m about ready to lose my p**p over this.
People who know nothing about these machines are trying to decide what’s safe for the rest of us—and they’re out of their minds!

Of course they’re dangerous. I mean… HELLO!
They’re high-powered off-road machines that can and will hurt or kill you if you treat them like toys. Anyone with a lick of sense should know that before they ever climb in.

You did. I did. (I’m assuming you did, anyway.)

But so can walking across the street.
So if danger’s your concern—don’t buy a SxS.
And while you’re at it, stop walking across the street in front of me!

---

Doug’s Two Safety Tips

1. Follow the manufacturer’s instructions.
Polaris says it plain and simple:

> “SxS’s must be operated in compliance with the manufacturer’s instructions and warnings, and driven at a safe speed given the operating conditions.”

2. Use common sense.
I’ve never once seen a SxS (with no one in it) suddenly decide to roll itself over.
I’ve never seen one (empty) come flying around a blind corner and smash into someone head-on.

See my point? It’s not the machine—it’s the operator.

If you take the time to learn how to operate your machine, ride within your limits, and think before you throttle, you’ll find that common sense goes a long way toward staying safe.

I know… common sense isn’t all that common anymore. But I still try to use it every day.

And I’m not the type to offend anyone—but sometimes, even Ricky got his butt handed to him by Lucy. (The Trail Geezers will get that one!)

---

Legal Disclaimer (Evidently I Need to Write This?)

This post is intended to be read by anyone. It may contain information that is truthful, hilarious, or unsuitable for the overly sensitive, humorless, or those lacking common sense.

If you are not the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution, or copying of this post is strictly authorized. Please, share freely.

Unless the term Trail Geezer has been used correctly somewhere else in this post, it has no grammatical or legal use—but it may be completely shared.

Now you’re really confused… aren’t ya?

Clowns to the Left of Me, Idiots on the Right

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

The Growing Problem of Disrespectful SxS Drivers

The open trail used to be a sanctuary—a place where the roar of an engine was the only noise, and the only challenge was the terrain itself. But lately, something's changed. More often than not, the peace is shattered by reckless drivers who have no respect for the trail or the people on it. It’s as if we’re caught between a rock and a hard place, with clowns on one side and idiots on the other.

These aren't just minor annoyances; they're serious issues that are ruining the experience for everyone. From blasting through fragile ecosystems without a care to tearing past fellow riders with no regard for safety, these disrespectful drivers are turning our beloved trails into dangerous battlegrounds.

Safety is No Joke

Let’s be clear: this isn’t just about hurt feelings or inconvenience. Disrespectful driving can lead to accidents, injuries, or worse. Speeding through narrow trails, overtaking dangerously, or not yielding to others can quickly turn deadly. If you’re not driving with safety as your top priority, you’re not just putting yourself at risk—you’re endangering everyone around you.

The Damage Goes Beyond the Trail

Every time a reckless driver tears up the trail, they’re not just damaging the environment—they're giving the entire SxS community a bad name. These trails are a privilege, not a right. The more damage and danger we cause, the more likely it is that these trails will be closed to us for good. We’ve already seen this happen in other areas, and it’s only a matter of time before it happens here if things don’t change.

Taking a Stand

It’s time to stop tolerating this behavior. When you see reckless driving, call it out. Report it to trail authorities if necessary. There’s a difference between minding your own business and turning a blind eye to dangerous, destructive behavior. We owe it to ourselves and each other to protect the trails we love.

Education Isn't Enough Anymore

While educating new drivers about trail etiquette is important, the time for polite reminders is over. Those who are deliberately disrespectful need to know that their actions have consequences. It might be a conversation, a report, or even organizing with other responsible riders to keep the trails safe. But it’s clear that words alone aren’t getting through to everyone.

Choosing Our Battles

Sometimes, the best course of action is to avoid the chaos altogether. On days when the trails are crowded, consider opting for lesser-known routes or different times. It’s unfortunate, but in some cases, avoiding these drivers is the only way to maintain your safety and sanity.

Protecting the Future of SxS Riding

If we don’t take action now, the future of SxS riding in some of our favorite spots is at risk. More restrictions, closures, and limitations could be on the horizon if we don’t collectively enforce the rules. We can’t afford to let a few bad actors ruin it for the rest of us. Our trails, our community, and our safety depend on it.

This isn't just about being frustrated. It's about the very real danger that disrespectful drivers pose to us all. If we want to keep enjoying the trails and ensure they're around for the next generation, we need to step up, speak out, and take action. The time for just hoping things will change is over. It’s up to us to make sure they do.

Note* Trail Rage is a real thing. Physical confrontation isn't the answer.....instead get your phone out and discreetly video. Then report it, use the video as the evidence.

Be Safe.....
Happy Trails

🎃 GANDALF THE REAL Has Arrived! 🧙‍♂️

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

They said a wizard is never late… and tonight, I proved it! Stepped into the Halloween party as Gandalf the One and Only True Wizard — beard, staff, and a touch of Geezer magic included.

Some folks cast spells… I cast torque, trail dust, and the occasional sarcastic comment. 😆
Tonight’s lesson from the Grey Wizard himself:

> “You shall not pass… without a good laugh, a cold drink, and a little mischief in your step.”

Stay spooky out there, my friends — and remember, every wizard needs a few good trails to disappear down when the party ends. 🏔️🍂

Life’s Got Me Parked

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

I hate not being able to ride. Life’s just too damn busy right now. My RZR’s sitting there fueled up, staring at me like, “What’s your excuse this time?”

It’s killing me. I need dirt, throttle, and mountain air before I lose my mind. Dreaming about it isn't even close to the real thing!

Who else is stuck in park lately?

Trail Karma: The Unwritten Code of the Ride

(By Doug Russell | Colorado SxS Adventures)

I’ve been riding long enough to absolutely tell you this: trail karma is real. It’s not mystical, and it sure isn’t some feel-good slogan—it’s just the unwritten code that holds our community together. Out here, every one of us is one bad turn, one flat, or one breakdown away from needing help. What you give has a way of circling back—sometimes the same day, sometimes months later, but it always does.

The Power of Small Things

Trail karma doesn’t have to be some grand gesture. It’s sharing a bottle of water because he forgot his. It’s picking up a strap someone lost on the climb. It’s holding up at a fork until the driver behind you sees the turn. It's stopping to help someone who's stuck. It's helping someone who locked themselves out of there truck at the trailhead parking lot. It's helping to find a lost dog on the trail. It's cutting trees that fell acrossed the trail.

None of those things take much effort, but they matter. The guy you tossed that extra strap to? He might be the same one who helps lift your rig off its side when things go sideways.

When It Comes Back Around

I’ve given help and never thought twice about it—then weeks later, I’ve been the one stuck with a dead battery, and here comes another rider out of nowhere to help. Call it coincidence. Call it trail karma. Either way, it proves one thing—we don’t ride alone, even when we think we do.

The Other Side of Karma

There’s always a few who don’t get it. The ones who blow past without slowing, leave trash behind, or crank music so loud it ruins the quiet of the mountains. That kind of selfishness has a way of catching up—usually in the form of a broken axle, miles from the trailer, with nobody around willing to help.

Why It Matters

Trail karma isn’t about keeping score. It’s about respect—for the land, for the ride, and for each other. When the community is stronger, every ride is better. And when you stop to help, you find your a part of something bigger than just yourself ..... you’re part of a family out here.

So the next time you see someone pulled over or struggling with gear, take the extra minute. That moment of effort could be the thing that saves you down the road. Out here, trail karma always finds its way back.