Halfway Is Nothing: Rolling West with Red Oxx, Good Dogs, and Great Partners

There are vehicles that pull their weight, and then there’s Big Oxx, a 2009 Sprinter with a license plate that says it all. Trade shows on both coasts, backroads and blacktops, parking lot dinners and gear drops: this rig’s seen it all. Semi-retired now, but every so often, she’s itching for one more run. When the West starts whispering, you either go or get left behind.

This trip wasn’t about “likes” or outsmarting the algorithm. It was about honesty. Handshakes, campfire meals, a muddy poodle with more stamina than manners time to crank up the Sublime, and a rolling locker stuffed with every Red Oxx bag worth its salt: Tri-fold Shave Kit, Five Little Roys, C.C. Rider, Tres Hombres, and, for the nostalgia buffs, the Gypsy Suit Cover, retired, but still in heavy rotation for the true believers.

Sheridan: Kennon Products—Blueprints and Breakfast

First stop was Sheridan, Wyoming, Kennon country. Back in the day, when we were hammering together Factory Number 8, the Kennon crew made it a habit to tour our shop, poke around the machinery, and grill us on workflow. Turns out, they weren’t just casing the joint—they were gathering blueprints. Their own build in Sheridan took the best of what we had and ran with it. Partnerships built on observation with a touch of inspiration and that’s how you know you’re moving forward. You show your cards, they show theirs, and if you’re lucky, everyone gets a little sharper.

Grand Junction: Goose Gear Cabinet Maker’s Code

Goose Gear in Grand Junction isn’t just a name, it’s a standard. Brian runs a tight ship, machining internal cabinets for offroad rigs that are workhorse tough and adventure ready. I’ve always loved woodworking. I learned at Regional Occupational Program or ROP in Cali, which took me two years to finish a six-week program while in the Marines (duty calls, don’t judge). Brian’s a kindred spirit and fellow ROP attendee. His shop is lean, focused, and full of the quiet pride only real builders carry. If you want your rig outfitted for more than a parking lot photoshoot, start and finish with Goose Gear.

Telluride: Jagged Edge Old Roads, Old Friends

Jagged Edge in Telluride, owned by Erik Dalton, was our very first retailer. Erik and I have a history of Land Rover mayhem from Baja to New Mexico. Our greatest hits include the legendary sinking of a LR3 in the Dolores River and campfire rescues no one will ever let me forget. The bond is real: busted axles, cracked jokes, and the understanding that some partnerships must be earned one campfire at a time. Their shop is where real adventure lives gear with stories, integrity measured in mountain miles, and a crew that still gives a damn.

 

Mesa: Audio Uprising Field Kitchen to Speaker Kits

Met Zach Berning at the very first Overland Expo, bonding over fantastic coffee and better food. I’ve cooked my way across continents, and Zach’s field kitchen skills were legendary. Now he’s the captain at Audio Uprising, building Jeep speaker kits that transform a trail into a rolling concert. Good cooks make great engineers: it’s all about attention to detail. If you want tunes for the trek, go see Zach. Penny, I swear, can tell the difference.

Tucson: Tubac, Spices, and the Creative Spark

Tumacacori’s Santa Cruz Spice Company is a pilgrimage-worthy stop for anyone who thinks “seasoned salt” is acceptable. This time, I scored big spices that’ll change how you cook on the road, or at home. The real Tucson draw, though, was Big Island Graphics and Devon, the creative renaissance man: Graphic designer, antique restorer, designer, stunt driver, and unofficial keeper of Red Oxx’s visual soul. Three decades of partnership his fingerprints are everywhere on this brand’s look and feel. Every creative session with Devon is a reminder: what makes a brand matter isn’t just what you sell, but how you tell the story.

Lake Powell: Lone Rock Sand, Swim, and Unexpected Kinship

After a night at ROAM Campground (top facilities, friendly staff worth a visit), I rolled into Lone Rock. Government closure meant no fee, so Penny and I biked sandy trails, swam the lake, and soaked up what free America has left. Met a pair of Israeli army vets looking for rest after rough years took their picture with the poodle, traded stories about finding peace where you can. Sometimes trail magic is a swim and a bit of shared luck.

Salt Lake City: KOA, Warner Vans, and Taco Shop Fate

Rolled into Salt Lake late, and grabbed the last “Luxury” pad at KOA (luxury meaning hot shower and a patch of real grass). My late-night run for tacos was a bust, but the owner took pity and handed over the last of the fries. Penny and I split them with some meat sticks, road food royalty. Morning meant Warner Vans for a Sprinter checkup, then the Land Cruiser Heritage Museum for a shot of inspiration and pride (seeing Red Oxx bags next to rigs with global stories), and lunch at Equipt 1 with Paul May. No shortcuts, no easy answers, just grit and laughter all around.

Idaho Falls: “Luxury,” the Snake, and Progress

Idaho “Luxury” RV Resort, bless their branding. They got the basics right, even if the name is fifty bucks ahead of the experience. Quick access to the Snake River Trail: me on the bike, Penny on the chase, sunrise over smokestacks and cranes, condos sprouting by the water. That’s the West in 2025: every patch of grass, a question mark, every bend in the river an invitation and a warning.

Breakfast was van cuisine coffee, the last meat stick, Penny wishing she could run the whole river. Sometimes the road gives you more than you deserve; sometimes it asks you to lower your expectations, laugh, and move on.

West Yellowstone and the Long Good-Bye

No trip north is complete without the route through West Yellowstone. If you get it, you get it. Pines crowding the road, the echo of old highways, a mood that’s more memory than map. The West isn’t gone, but you have to keep an eye out. The best things, like a good tune, as my friend Wes Urbaniak magically popped up on my Spotify while I was crossing the border back into Montana, a handshake, or a muddy dog won’t be around forever.

Final Word

This run was what the West always is: a mix of hassle, hope, and happiness in small doses. The names change more condos, less pasture, more craft coffee, fewer hitching posts but the game stays the same. Bring the gear, find the grit, keep the herd close. Don’t skip the good stops, don’t let the bad weather throw you, and don’t take yourself too seriously.

Halfway is nothing. Out here, you finish what you start. You laugh when things go sideways, and you raise your coffee cold or not to the weird, wonderful, always-changing American West.

Let’s see what waits around the next bend.

Cheers,
Jim 

 P.S. I only bought one shiny rock on this trip and that in itself was a small miracle.