King of the Hammers is touted as the toughest off-road race on Earth, a multi-week event in the Southern California desert that’s open to anyone with a car or motorcycle and a healthy amount of chutzpah. From sections that include high speed stretches of open desert to ultra-technical rock crawling, sometimes racers even have to drive over broken-down competitor vehicles to finish their race. I’ve been to King of the Hammers twice but was working both times, so I naturally jumped at the chance to attend the training sessions as media and get a taste for what the event is really like from the racer’s perspective.
Seeing Johnson Valley empty was my first surprise – I had only ever witnessed it crawling with more than 100,000 of the wildest, Frankenstein-does-Mad-Max off-road creations you’ve ever seen celebrating this annual event. During King of the Hammers, you can see the dust cloud caused by spectators for hundreds of miles, and when you do make it to Hammertown, the makeshift city that forms in the dry lakebed during race weeks, you are greeted with the same comforts you find at any festival. There are vendors selling goods, food stands, cafes, IV-hydration stations, port-a-potties, music stages and more all made out of plywood or whatever else these enterprising folks could fit in their rigs.
That’s the side of KOH that I’m used to. But this trip was my first time being in a race rig and tackling the obstacles at speed, and it really blew my mind. In the midst of all the chaos during race week – all the partying, all the fireworks, and all the anarchy – racers must prep for no less than six hours of axle-snapping, tire-shredding, patience-testing and mentally exhausting off-road racing.
I started by climbing into Dave Cole’s badass Ford Centurion that he built out to be a luxury pre-runner. Dave is the founder and owner of King of the Hammers, and he used to be an avid off-road racer so I knew I was in for a treat. He hopped into the behemoth Centurion with me and two others and immediately proved his skill by expertly navigating the desolate desert around his off-grid complex in Johnson Valley, California, just on the other side of Big Bear.
After we regrouped at Turkey Claw, one of King of the Hammers’ many technical, rocky obstacles, I hopped into the passenger seat of a minuscule Can-Am Maverick X3 built and raced by Mitchell Alsup to get a taste of rock crawling. First of all, I was amazed that I could fit my six-foot-eight self into the tiny two-seat machine, despite my friends laughing at my knees poking up above the beltline. Once we got crawling, Alsup found the best line and scooted right up the grade. I was shocked at how smoothly he navigated the small valley of massive boulders in that little Can-Am, never gaving me a moment of stress despite vacillating between only seeing rocks and only seeing sky while being inches from hulking boulders. Mad respect.
After the technical climb, Alsup gave me a taste of open desert racing, which was exhilarating. We were going 70 mph off-road with no windshield and a tiny turbocharged motor screaming behind my head, all while the Can-Am ironed out whoops that my brain told me should have stopped us in our tracks. Respect grew.
Alsup then ferried us out to Chocolate Thunder, another famous rocky climb for King of the Hammers. I’m used to seeing Chocolate Thunder look like a crowded anthill, crawling with drunken spectators watching thousands of racers do everything in their power to get their makeshift rock crawlers even halfway up the mountain. Seeing it without the crowds somehow made it look even more challenging, but again Alsup just skipped along the rocks like a mountain goat, and next thing I knew we were headed back down to base. Respect at capacity.
I watched some of the other rigs hit Chocolate Thunder, until I got the nerve to hop into a FR8 Factory 4800 Class Bomber with Josh Sowell to see how the big boys handle the climb. 4800 Class vehicles must be running a solid front axle and only have a single shock per corner, and I could really feel the difference of versus the Can-Am’s independent suspension. The FR8 Factory 4800 Bomber is much larger than the Can-Am, has way more power and most importantly, bigger tires. Sowell was able to conquer larger boulders than the Can-Am, but it was a lot rougher on my body than the Can-Am. The V8 under my feet sounded incredible, at least.
Then I hopped into Rodney Stoye’s Lasernut Racing Spec Trophy Truck for the open desert blast back to the compound. Spec Trophy Trucks run in the Toyo Desert Challenge during King of the Hammers, and they are all rear-wheel drive only and only permitted to run crate LS3 V8 motors. They don’t tackle the rocks like other classes, but the racing is just as intense. I was struck by how compact the passenger area was – I have long-ass legs and my knees were wedged into the engine air filter and the dashboard, but the Trophy Truck was so badass that I didn’t care. We blasted through the lakebed touching 90 mph and I loved every second of it. As a passenger I certainly had the easier job, as. You can never just cruise when you’re off-road, you have to keep an eye out for the rapidly shifting ground conditions which Stoye did with aplomb.
My final adventure for the day was heading up to the best viewpoint to see the sunset. We were down a few cars, so Dave Cole took four passengers in his daughter’s stock 2023 Ford Bronco and we hit the same trails as the race-prepped trucks on the way to the vantage point. The Bronco kicked ass across the desert and up the rocky grade, and Cole told me that Ford came to him for help in developing the new Bronco. Much of the off-road testing was done out of his Johnson Valley compound and on the King of the Hammers obstacles, but I was still shocked by the speeds the Bronco could carry and the super technical trails it took in stride.
Sampling the racer’s side of King of the Hammers was humbling. I was exhausted after being a passenger for just a few hours, but the racers are going much faster and are against the clock. KOH is typically a three-lap race that covers around 240 miles of rocky climbs, high-speed dry lake beds, sand traps and hundreds of other people vying for the top spot. I’m an ex-NCAA D1 rower; I spent eight years of my life training my ass off to be the best, so I know how much it takes to continuously be at the top of your game. I stopped rowing at 23, and some of these racers have competed at King of the Hammers for nearly that long, so I simply cannot fathom the toll that training for this race takes, let alone finishing.
Anyone can enter King of the Hammers as a racer or as a spectator, and tickets are pretty cheap. The races last for three weeks, starting on January 20 and ending on February 3, and anyone can camp in the desert or bring an RV if you prefer. For those who cannot watch in-person, KOH has some of the best live streaming I have ever witnessed, with a gaggle of drones and pilots who literally fly underneath the trucks as they’re rock crawling. I implore anyone with even a flicker of interest to attend and get the full experience, or at least watch the livestream from the dust-free comfort of your home. Sublime With Rome also puts on an epic concert for Hammertown which is included in the nominal ticket price. Go get Hammered!
