Don't laugh. If you've never driven on pavement before, it's an adventure. And if you've never driven on a freeway before, or at least what passes for a freeway in Alaska, it's even more of an adventure.
Now, picture your first freeway driving experience with a California filmmaker in the front seat with a camera lens focused on you at all times, and a slightly wacky driving instructor from the Land Rover Driving Academy in the back seat coaching.
Maybe then you'll begin to get an idea of what an adventure it was to get to the gravel, the mud, the dirt and the winding maze of rutted four-wheeler tracks where April and Falina at last began to feel comfortable.
It wasn't until then that the nervous giggles became happy smiles.
What can you say?
The young women are from Aniak, where the roads tend to come in only two types -- rough and nonexistent. April and Falina are accustomed to rough-road driving, though maybe not so much as Land Rover's Tim Hensley. Hensley thinks it's fun to get stuck. He was up the creek with April and Falina in a brand new Rover to do just that.
"We'll get a little muddy today,'' he said. "We'll get stuck today. We'll show you how to get unstuck."
Girls just gotta have fun.
In this case, though, it wasn't just fun.
April and Falina are members of The Dragon Slayers, an Aniak volunteer firefighting and rescue squad that has attracted more than a little publicity. The Rover was a donation to assist the Dragon Slayers after a former Slayer outlined the group's transportation problems for the audience of the Oprah Winfrey show.
Hensley's job, if you can call anything this much fun a job, was to teach the duo how to drive off-road.
Anyone who has stuck a 4x4 knows this is not as easy as it sounds.
"Just because this is a Land Rover doesn't mean it will go anywhere,'' Hensley cautioned the girls.
But just about.
In the right conditions, and with the right driver, and with the proper tools for getting unstuck, it is amazing where a 4x4 will go. Hensley has driven Rovers all the way up the Knik River valley to the face of the Knik Glacier.
Children: Do not try this without proper preparation. Among other things, you must understand the rise and fall of the Knik River. At some flows, the only vehicle that can make the trip to the glacier is a boat.
Four-by-four vehicles do not do well underwater. Twenty inches of water is the recommended maximum for the Rover, said Hensley, who then noted that if you generate just the right bow wake with the push from the bumper you can actually pull water out from under the vehicle and significantly increase the operating depth.
This is the kind of challenge Hensley enjoys. Think of a tall, gangly McGyver and you'll get the picture.
Hensley confessed that he would have loved to take a shot at driving the donated Rover to Aniak. That would have required conquering several hundred miles of roadless terrain surrounding the Kuskokwim River village. That's why the donated 4x4 is going there by airplane.
Driving it would have required waiting for winter, and then figuring out a route.
Down the frozen Yukon River to Holy Cross, maybe, then across the frozen swamps to the Kusko. With big tires, enough time and the will, Hensley figures you can drive a 4x4 just about anywhere.
Still, the one-time winner of the Camel Trophy for off-road racing, notes some judgment is required in such undertakings.
"You need to preserve your vehicle,'' Hensley said. "The Brits have a saying: There's a time for going, and a time for slowing.''
April and Falina grasped the slowing part immediately. The going part proved more difficult, as it often does.
After Falina slowed down and got the Rover stuck on the side of a high, steep, sand dune along the river, Hensley explained the universal driver's friend, "Moe" -- as in "momentum.''
"Moe" is something that everyone who gets behind a wheel or a set of handlebars should get to know. Whether you're on a snowmobile or mountain bike, a 4x4 or a four-wheeler, there are times when "Moe'' can prove a godsend.
On the second run up the dune, Falina had "Moe" with her. And this time the Rover kept going up over, slick as water on ice. Then it was time to pivot the vehicle, shift the transmission into low to help put "Moe'' back in his place, and ease down the hill.
By then, Falina was getting into the off-roading.
The death grip she'd held on the wheel while driving on pavement relaxed. She settled back into the seat instead of trying to wrap herself around the steering wheel. Hensley no longer had to tell her to "relax, breathe.''
With Russ Rayburn filming outside, Falina pushed the Rover up through the steep sand and down through steep sand and across steep sand. And then Hensley went and got the Rover stuck.
Just because he could.
He backed it into a muddy stream bank and spun all four tires until he had the vehicle digging for the center of the earth. He didn't stop until it was well mired. Then he showed April and Falina -- along with Pete Brown, chief of the Aniak Volunteer Fire Department -- how to line out the winch, hook onto an anchor, and tow a 4x4 out of the muck.
Winches, the women learned, are wonderful devices.
Not that you want to use them a lot.
In off-roading, Hensley noted, the idea is really to avoid trouble.
"When the damage starts,'' he said, "the fun stops.''
Those are words that ring true for every outdoor sport, and most especially for people who get involved in helping rescue others who get into trouble outdoors.
"When you are out assisting people,'' Hensley said, "you can help and become an asset, or you can actually become a liability.''
The advice applies to a lot more than just four-wheeling.
Daily News Outdoor editor Craig Medred can be reached at cmedred@adn.com.
Important warning about e-mails purporting to be from the adn.com staff.