AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

I know the first spot well…the last spot I haven’t found yet. Such a beautiful area we are blessed to live in!

 

Rear Shock Swap (ADS 12" w/Piggybacks)
October 17, 2024

Ever since I relocated my rear shocks, or at least ever since I got it right the second time, I've been running 2.5" ADS Racing Shocks with a 10-inch stroke and resis. They have been performed fantastically and after rebuilding and revalving them after a couple years of use, they worked even better!

The first set of 10" smooth body shocks ADS made for the rear end of a 1st gen Tacoma, and the only trend I ever started.​

Really, I had no desire to ever run a different shock, and I figured that the ADS would probably outlast me, though they probably wouldn't outlast the Tacoma - because we all know it's impossible to destroy a Toyota Pickup.

But then, I significantly modified the rear suspension by installing Chevy 63 leaf springs. Not only do these Chevy 63s have a much softer ride than my previous leaf springs, but they are also significantly longer, allowing the rear axle - and wheels - to travel further than they did before. And that meant I was bumping up on the limits of the 10-inch stroke of the ADS shocks.

Of course, bump stops protected the shocks from topping out when the leaf springs were fully compressed, but on the other end of travel - when the shocks were fully extended - there was nothing protecting the shocks from becoming the limiting factor in suspension travel. I'd considered installing some limit straps - similar to those I'd installed in the front - but I'd never gotten around to it.

And then, I got an inquiry about whether I'd be interested in selling the 10" ADS shocks. Viewing this as an opportunity to solve my problem by getting a shock that "fit" the travel profile of the Chevy 63s, I was definitely open to the idea, and a few days later we'd settled on a price.

We'd also settled on a date for the sale, and it happened to be one day after the new 2.5" ADS Racing Shocks with 12-inch stroke and piggyback reservoirs would arrive in a big brown truck. It was time to get to work.

I won't bore everyone with the details - especially since a read through my rear shock relocation quickly demonstrates that I have no idea what I'm doing - but sufficed to say, I needed to cut the existing lower shock mounts off of the rear axle and weld new ones in place that were positioned to take advantage of the longer stroke that my new shocks would provide.

Having done that many times in the past, it was a short - if tedious - process and soon the rear axle housing was devoid of shock mounts and I was waiting the final few hours for the new shocks to arrive.

Look at those beauties!​

The new shocks were functionally similar to the originals - with a 2.5" body - but sported a 2-inch longer stroke and piggyback reservoirs that would allow for a cleaner installation, since I wouldn't have to position and strap the reservoirs to the rear shock mount under the bed. Plus, they were shiny!

A few minutes after they arrived, I was measuring and mathing in order to figure out positioning of the new mounts.

Reasonably certain that the new positioning would work - and aware that if it didn't, I had no extra parts to try again - I pulled out the Millermatic and cringed as I spattered little bits of melty metal in boogery beads that - while functional - not even a mother could love.

Then, it was time for a bit of grinding and painting, and soon I was mounting the shocks under the truck. I had less than 12 hours before my old 10-inch beauties would be gone, but I'd made it, and the results looked fantastic.

Now with two additional inches of down travel.​

Fantastic, that is, as long as you are distracted by the shiny silver shocks, and don't look too closely at the mounts.

For anyone curious, here are the build specs for these new shocks.​

 

Swapping 5th Gear for More MPGs
October 18, 2024

Sometimes, in an effort to make a Tacoma work really well off-road, modifications to the drivetrain result in the on-road performance being a little less than ideal. That's what happened to me - inadvertently - when I installed 4.88 gears in my front and rear diffs.

I've loved those gears - they are one of my best mods on the trail and at slower speeds - but the side effect has been that my RPMs are significantly higher than stock when I'm cruising on the freeway. In fact, I've ended up finding that 62 mph - at about 2700 rpm - is about where the 5VZFE of the Tacoma likes to cruise, and that is... slow. It takes a long time to get just about anywhere.

Moving at 70 mph, the engine revs at a little more than 2750 rpm.
(Except this isn't really 70 mph on my truck, here's why.)​

I am not the first one to run into this problem, and in 2015, a thread by ToyotaLux over on Pirate4x4 was the first to gather most of the necessary information into one place, outlining the steps to swap the existing 5th gear in the R150F transmission of a 1st gen Tacoma for the 5th gear out of a Toyota Dyna R452 transmission.

The point of the Dyna 5th gear is to get a 30% overdrive as opposed to the standard [16% provided by the stock 5th gear], but more on that later.

There is plenty of info on this scattered over the web but I couldn't find a single source that had all the info for someone that was coming from a basic understanding of gearboxes and wanted to try this themselves.

ToyotaLux​

The problem was that - even with most of the information in one place - there were still gaps. The full list of necessary parts was difficult to piece together, many of the photos were hidden behind watermarks of the platforms on which they were hosted.

And of course, there was the fear factor. To do this modification, I'd be semi-blindly buying a bunch of parts and cracking open a part of the Tacoma I'd never worked on previously. It was a situation that would end gloriously or as a complete disaster.

It was also a situation that had a deadline - I was scheduled to drive the Tacoma south for the winter at the end of October. So, when I discovered that Dan @drr - who'd tried to make the swap but ended up running into trouble - had most of the parts in his possession, I jumped on the opportunity to pick them up. My hope was that - by supplementing his collection with a few more parts, and enlisting the help of Zane @Speedytech7 when doing the work - I'd come out the other side with a different result.

Still, I estimated only a 50% chance of success. Dan is a smart dude after all, regardless of sharing a first name with yours truly.

​

I headed over to Zane's on a Friday morning. My plan was to show up just before lunch, grab a burrito at Tacos El Guero in Spokane Valley - one of the best taco trucks I've ever tasted - and then get most of the disassembly of the Tacoma taken care of before Zane even got home from work.
Naturally then, I rolled up around 2:30pm having not eaten lunch at all, only a few minutes before Zane also pulled into the driveway. It was a solid start!

Hungrily watching Zane polish off a burrito he'd picked up on his way home - while also unbolting bits of the driveline at lightning speed - I set about some of the interior work. Ultimately, in the time it took me to remove bits of the center console and the shift levers, I think Zane got both drive shafts pulled and the transfer case ready to come out!

Things were moving so quickly that the only photo I got before the truck was completely immobile was just after we got it up on ramps!​

As we supported the transfer case on the transmission jack, I warned Zane that we'd see a good amount of oil on the floor when we separated the two components. This was something I'd learned the last time I'd removed the transfer case, since the seal between the two had failed, filling the usually-dry-cavity between the two gear sets with nearly a quart of oil!

I could tell by Zane's reaction, that we had drastically different concepts of "a good amount of oil." As we wrestled the transfer case off the transmission, a few drops, then a steady stream, and then a torrent of oil flooded onto the floor. Unable to position the oil catch can under the transfer case due to the transmission jack supporting it, Zane scrambled for some shop rags as I wondered whether I'd ever be welcome back.

Eventually - and with a liberal dousing in not-saleable-in-California full-strength brake cleaner - we got the mess cleaned up and the transmission jack positioned under the transmission itself. We wouldn't be removing the transmission for this job, but we would be removing the crossmember that supported it, and we certainly didn't want the whole thing to come crashing down on us as we pondered our next steps.

Hold my transmission, would you?​

To this point, I'd felt comfortable that everything we'd done was easily reversable, since I'd done it all myself a few times in the past. Now, however, it was time to remove the transfer adapter from the transmission. This - which would expose the gears we'd be swapping out - entailed splitting components that were bound by form-in-place-gasket (FIPG - aka RTV - aka glue), and that - to me - was scary.

Ready to break the transfer adapter (left) away from the cast bearing plate (center), which at this point was only attached to the transmission (right) with red FIPG.​

To Zane - who is much more experienced with FIPG - I think we were still in the easily reversable territory of the job. Still, he warned that we really didn't want to break the FIPG seal on the transmission side of the bearing plate, because that would force us to pull the entire transmission and make the job "a lot bigger."

My relief three minutes later - when the job didn't become "a lot bigger" - was palpable. And with that, it was time to recalculate our chances of success.

Where the rubber meets the road.​

With the transmission - or at least the part of it we needed access to - opened up, we got our first look at the output and countershafts. This was a key moment, since it is by looking at how the gears and bearings are secured to these shafts that one can determine whether they have an R150F transmission that can be successfully modified.

I won't go into all the details - see the step-by-step guide for that - but if both shafts have circlips on the end, the chances of success increase dramatically.

Yay for us!​

With our spirits high, we set about pulling off the various bits. Actually, it was mostly Zane who was doing all the work at this point - I was still too nervous - as I snapped photos along the way, in hopes that I could put together a more detailed guide for future mpg-obsessed maniacs to follow.

All the original bits removed!​

With all the old bits out, it was time for dinner. Whenever I visit Zane, I like to treat him to whatever he wants to eat while I'm there, and this time I'd informed him that I expected something a little costlier than Dominoes and Subway for his time and expertise. Being Zane, he mostly ignored my expectations, on this particular evening we did head over to The Flying Goat - a slightly fancier pizza joint - where we enjoyed a fantastic "Lacrosse" pie.

Olive oil, fresh mozzarella, Italian sausage, red pepper preserves, fresh basil & shaved pecorino.​

I was a bit after 9:00pm by the time we wrapped dinner, and I figured that after a week of work and a long evening of working on someone else's truck, Zane would probably be ready to call it an evening.

Nope. He wanted to get the new gears installed and the transfer adapter sealed back onto the transmission so that the new FIPG would have a chance to set up overnight before we pumped a few quarts of gear oil into the transmission.

So, that's what we set about doing, first bench assembling the new components and then baking them for installation.

Beginning assembly with the sleeve (top left) and then working the shift keys into position (top right), before adding the synchro ring and spline gear (bottom left), and finally the shift fork (bottom right).​

All of this process was enjoyable, but the best part was when we worked out exactly how the three shift keys were installed - and secured - in the countergear assembly. This was the bit that Dan - or rather, the transmission shop he'd hired - ran into trouble, so when we figured it out, we finally eliminated our final failure point on the job, and it was smooth sailing from there.

Who says men don't cook?​

With the bits that needed pressing on warming up in a 200°F oven - to expand them slightly and make the pressing process easier - we slid under the truck to start final assembly.

Everything fit!​

Nearly there - and nearly midnight - the final step in the process was spreading a thin bead of Toyota Black FIPG on the transfer adapter and snugging it up to the transmission so it could set up overnight, allowing us to test drive the Tacoma the following morning before diving into the second project I'd hoped we could accomplish before I bombed back home at the end of the day.

A thin - but continuous - bead is all you need.​

Ten bolts torqued to 27 ft-lbs, and almost ready for oil.​

We retired to bed having accomplished significantly more than I'd thought we could in a single, 12-hour "afternoon." Surely, I thought naively, I'd be headed home much earlier the next morning than I'd planned.

In fact, after a sound night sleep, it took only 90 minutes to button up everything else we'd disassembled the night before, and a quick blast around the block revealed our work to have been a smashing success. The new 5th gear worked flawlessly, and - as a bonus - there didn't seem to be any leaks!

Same speed as before, with much lower RPMs. 500 lower to be exact.​

Everything worked swimmingly on the 250-mile trip back home, though I found it difficult to maintain the 62 mph speed I'm used to traveling, since - apparently - I drive by engine sound rather than by reading any of the gauges on my cluster. Only after finding myself speeding along - at whatever speed 2750 rpm happened to be with the new gears - a handful of times did I finally resort to cruise control in order to maintain a more constant momentum.

I can't say yet whether these new gears will result in an MPG increase, but with an upcoming trip to the Mojave Desert I'll have a 1,000-mile trek to get a sense for any change. For once, I'll enjoy the 20-hour drive south, though I'm still looking forward to leaving the Tacoma in Las Vegas and throwing the dice on Spirit Airlines for the remainder of the winter!

- - - - - - -

​

A big thanks to everyone who participated in this investigation/conversation/swap prior to me, and to Dan @drr and Alex @Bandido with help sourcing parts, and to Zane @Speedytech7 for help with the swap itself!

​

 

Zuck says it's your birthday today! Happy Birthday!

 

Bed Cracks Galore
October 19, 2024

Just before the wildly successful swapping of my stock 5th gear for one from a Toyota Dyna R452 transmission - that provided a much higher overdrive, and hopefully better fuel economy on the freeway - Zane @Speedytech7 and I had removed the bed of the Tacoma to inspect the front passenger corner for cracks.

My bed has had plenty of cracks before. In fact, this isn't the first time the front passenger corner has needed some attention: a couple of years ago I discovered that the seam had failed, and I bolted in a reinforcement plate that I thought would solve the problem forever.

Apparently, "forever" in Tacoma is 25 months. Or maybe that's just "forever" in Dan Repair years. Whatever the case, the situation was significantly worse than I'd expected, and both Zane and I got a good kick out of how completely destroyed the bed was. In fact, the fissures were so plentiful that we couldn't even catalog them all before getting started on the transmission. They were a problem for another day.

16 Hours Later, and Technically, Another Day

With the transmission work behind us, it was time to address the bed. One of Zane's buddies - Jayson @2RZNoShi1, who has a bunch of tig welding experience and is always looking to practice - came over to lend a hand, and soon the catalog of cracks had grown to "I think I saw a bed for sale on Craigslist" length.

Flapping in the breeze.​

"Did you drill a hole to stop me?" -CrackDon'tCare​

I think we found the following to be cracked, though Zane and Jayson may have found even more that I'm forgetting here:

• Passenger bed side: 3 cracks on bed rail, under (for the time being) the bed rack.
• Passenger bed side front bracket: two of the three bolts ripped out of the sheet metal; braket also cracked.
• Passenger front corner of bed side: completely disintegrated. Several pieces only held in place by the plastic bed liner.
• Passenger corner of front wall: flange that attaches to bed side completely detached.
• Driver front corner of bed side: 30% cracked.
• Driver bed side: 4 cracks on bed rail, one of which extended 4" down the outside of the bed.

After discussing our plan of action, we decided on a two-pronged approach. Frist, we'd set Jayson loose with the grinder and tig, hoping that he could stitch as much of the bed back together as possible. This would add a lot of structural rigidity and hopefully keep things from deteriorating as quickly as they had after my previous repair attempt. Second, Zane and I popped over to the steel yard and picked up a few sticks of 1/8" flat bar and angle that we could rosette weld into the bed rails and corners, hopefully reinforcing them for the future.

Jayson tigging away at the worst of the cracks.​

Partially done, this entire seam would eventually be entirely stitched up.​

Amazing what a little skill does for weld quality. If I'd attempted this with my mig, it'd have looked like I coughed up a cold along the seam.​

While Jayson worked the tig, Zane manned the mig and whipped up a new flange for the to reattach the front wall of the bed to the passenger bed side, as well as patching up the passenger side bracket "as good as new."

Some 1.5" angle was the perfect substitute for the flange that had mysteriously left the building.​

It's a wonder this thing didn't fall off!​

That of course left me to sit back and twiddle my thumbs. If only. While those guys were doing the real work, I sprayed a coat of black-is-the-new-green rust preventer over any bare metal bits, and whipped up the reinforcements for the bed rails and front corners, hoping to prevent a similar meeting of the minds in three years' time.

Hopefully, with this sandwiched behind the corner, this bed can barely hold itself together like the rest of us.​

A piece of 1" bar ready to be rosette welded behind the entire bed rail to distribute the load of the bed rack.​

It was a little after 7:00pm when we wrapped up all of the body work and got the bed repositioned on the Tacoma. Save for a few flat black areas that will soon be indistinguishable under a layer of trail grime and pinstripes, the bed looked great and was certainly in the better shape than it has been in for many years!

Still, I imagine it's only a matter of time before I'm once again muttering to myself, "I think I saw a bed for sale on Craigslist."

Thanks Zane and Jayson!

 

I would've bought a junkyard bed.

All the spot welds on the inside still holding? Most of those failed on mine.

 

Dan you really need to stop giving me more projects. 63's, longer shocks and the 5th gear swap are all on the list. I ordered all the 5th gear shit on sale on Friday and plan on doing that swap when the eco crawler goes in.

 

AFAIK, they are all just fine. Of course, I don't know the specific spot welds to which you are referring, and I'd like to keep it that way and continue with my head in the sand like any Taco owner whose truck is slowly falling apart.

Except I better check, so where are they?

lol, to be completely frank, I feel honored, since I feel like you've got so much more going than I do, hahaha.

After a couple trips, I'm writing up my impressions with the 5th gear. It's good for me (I think. so far. maybe?), but not sure it'd be great for others. You know, now that you've bought all the stuff. ( ) Here's a draft of what I put together so far.

 

They hold the inside of the bed sheet metal to some supports that go up the side. I think there's three of them on each side.

 

Your thing about 16.whatever percent more gutless couldn't be farther from the reality with internal combustion engines, taking the engine further away from its torque peak sucks cause it's not linear. It's on more of a bellcurve. So it might be something like 20-25% more gutless.

 

Thanks, I'll check those out. Hopefully the bedliner that I've had in there since it rolled off the lot has helped to protect the interior skin. Maybe not though, since I hoped the same for the rest of the bed and it destroyed itself anyway.

Bell curves suck when they don't work the way I want them to. It definitely feels more like 90% gutlesser than 16.whatever. Seems to not be an issue MPG-wise (so far) on flat highway.

100% for sure, if I ever go to 35s, I will definitely need to go to 5.29s. Or swap back. Or find myself going much faster.

 

5.29 and 35s would make me sad but that gearing would be about the same as it is now for you. 37s and 5.29s are the only combo that makes sense to me but I have power enough to handle the highway no prob

 

I love my 4.88s and 35s, but my truck is pretty light these days. Best gearing setup since stock.

Crawlbox is better for low range stuff than final drive ratio anyways.

 

Clearly the best way to go on our trucks is the Haltech and a turbo, I'm 100% convinced of that. For a lot of reasons. I think it allows for a lot of things that our stock trucks don't. It's just the work and non-stockness that I don't like. The latter isn't rational, I know.

4.88s and 35s would be good with stock gearing, I think, so I'm right there with you. It's this taller 5th that would make it impossible for me now.

 

You just need to go faster so that you're sitting at that 2500-2600rpm spot. That's the sweet spot for power and mpg. And now you can actually do normal highway speeds. win win.

 

im thinking with my 5.29’s even on 35’s it will be more enjoyable for me since I regularly cruise at 75-80 mph and the biggest reason for this is to not have the motor scream at me on the highway.

 

For sure. This is actually easy and nice and feels great in the truck as long as there is no headwind. It's ~72-75mph. It feels harder to achieve when there's a headwind though, since that air resistance increases by the square of speed (or something like that).

Yeah, with 5.29s I think you'll like it with 35s for sure. I still get thrown off by the reduced sound of the engine, and find myself pushing the skinny pedal b/c I don't think I'm going fast enough. Then, I glance down at the speedo to see that I'm going way faster than I used to, hahaha.

 

As always, great write ups, Dan! How many miles does your truck have nowadays?

 

Thanks! Sitting right at 276K now. Hoping to hit that 300 mark in 2025, but I'm putting miles on more slowly now that I'm not driving 2K each way for trips in the winter... (not that that is a bad thing )




Cowhole Mountain and the Creepiest Halloween | Return to the Desert #1
Part of the Return to the Desert (Oct 2024) trip.

I always look forward to winter. Not to the snow - though a day swishing down the slopes is always enjoyable - or for the cozy afternoons enjoying popcorn and a movie, but because they mean that it is time - once again - to explore the desert.

Having wrapped up the last of the work on the Tacoma - a new 5th gear and some major repair work to the bed - while it was housed at home, the end of October meant that it was time for the long drive south to escape the cold, wet weather of the Pacific Northwest and revel in the relative warmth of the Mojave Desert for the first time this season.

This time, we'd be doing more than just exploring. We'd be meeting up with Mike @mk5 to help with the ongoing reforestation around Cima Dome, planting Joshua Trees to replace those that were burned in the 2020 Dome Fire. And, with the trip encompassing Halloween, we'd be scaring ourselves shitless by spending that spooky night at the creepiest place in the Preserve - the Golddome Mine.

But now, I'm getting ahead of myself. First, we had to get there.

- - - - -

​

With a 22-hour drive between Seattle and the Mojave Preserve, getting to our first night of camping wasn't going to be the new-normal, enjoyable experience of getting on a quick, cheap, Spirit Airlines flight to Las Vegas. At least, not for me. Still, I poked along listening to podcasts, enjoying the fall scenery, and wondering if the new 5th gear that I'd installed - and that reduced my engine speed by about 500rpm at 62mph - would result in a noticeable improvement in my gas mileage.

I arrived at the Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge just before 3:00am, and within minutes the tent was deployed and I was out like a light. Knowing that I didn't need to pick up @mrs.turbodb in Las Vegas - she still got to fly - until 4:00pm, I figured that I'd probably end up with six hours of sleep before continuing on my way. Apparently, I was tired, and found myself groggily descending the ladder a little after 10:30am, definitely the latest I've slept in a very long time!

Enjoying some nice fall colors, I spent a bit of time at Upper Pahranagat Lake before continuing south.​

The water levels were lower than I'd ever seen them, and I followed the path of this racoon as I wandered around for a few minutes.​

I arrived in Las Vegas just as @mrs.turbodb was boarding her plane, giving myself a couple hours to provision the fridge, refuel the Tacoma, and perform a quick oil change - something I'd purposefully put off until after the 1,000-mile drive south - in the O'Reilly parking lot. And then, after a quick pick-up at the airport, we popped into our usual spot before heading for the desert.

If you order enough food, this can be breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
​

It wasn't late, but it was dark by the time we arrived at the Mojave Preserve.​

Knowing that we'd arrive in the dark, I'd picked a spot to camp that was reasonably close to a couple of mines - that I wanted to explore in the morning - and that I knew had amazing views of the New York Mountains. We wouldn't see them in their glory for several more hours, but with chilly-but-not-cold temperatures, we were able to enjoy the distant views before climbing into the tent for a cozy nights sleep.

On the horizon, Primm (and Las Vegas) to the left, and Searchlight to the right.​

Night sky rainbow.​

The following morning...

With our first full desert day of the season in front of us, I was anxious to get going as the sky lit up with glorious oranges and yellows. Clamoring up the hillside behind camp with way more camera bits than necessary, I setup the tripod and launched the flying camera as the sun sped through the darkness toward the horizon.

Our own private showing.​

As luck would have it, the hillside behind camp was also the site of the historic Oroweef gold mine, and while there wasn't much to see - this place is frequented by enough folks that anything pocketable has been - it was still fun to wonder what was below the first ladder leaded down into a void below a small headframe. Probably not much of value, given the lack of continued mining activity.

A small headframe and shallow workings are all that's left of the Oroweef mine.​

With no ropes, I wasn't going to get far on ladders alone.​

Soon, we were on the road, headed through the Joshua Trees toward a mine under Kokoweef Peak.​

We pulled up to an unnamed mine on the eastern slope of Kokoweef Peak just in time for breakfast. With a large waste rock pile, this mine may have been more successful than the Oroweef to the south, and was - I believe - part of, or led to, the Kokoweef Caves complex that...

...was discovered in the 1920s by a miner named E. P. Dorr. Later, in a sworn affidavit, Dorr reported an amazing discovery - and a lost mine legend was born. Deep under Kokoweef Peak, he said he found a swiftly flowing subterranean river; lining its banks were sands rich in gold.

The legend grew. "Facts" became scarce. The cave entrance was dynamited shut...there were stories of Dorr going insane, of murdered men, of men buried alive, of rich assay sheets.

Some sources say the main cave chamber has several entrances on the flanks of the peak. In his book, Adventure is Underground, William R. Halliday reports that the Crystal Cave Mining Corporation now owns the property. Would-be lost mine hunters are not welcome.

​

Security kept a close eye on us as we looked around.​

Danger to all but the best trained and equipped cave-explorer is extreme in these cases, and two people lost their lives here in 1959.

In the 1970s, Bob Reynolds of the San Bernardino County Museum excavated remains of Pleistocene age animals including brush ox, dire wolf, large and small camels, horses, marmots, bats, shrews and birds.

Digital-Desert​

For even more reading, check out Kokoweef: Still Searching for the Lost River of Gold.​

Had we known about Kokoweef's Lost River of Gold, we probably would have hung around a bit longer looking for our fair share of the riches. Instead, we chuckled at the "No Trespassing | Bad Air" sign that'd been attached to the metal grating just inside the adit opening. With little-to-no water in the area, it was highly unlikely that there was any problem with the air, but the sign sure seemed to be doing a good job. We've seen much beefier blockages - compared to the lightweight steel rebar here - chopped, bent, and torched in order to gain access to mines.

Besides, we had much less lucrative places to be. You see, we've visited the Mojave Preserve's Clark Mountains several times, and I've personally driven up to the Copper World Mine on no fewer than four occasions. Every time, I've passed by the old Dewey Mine - a copper operation sitting high on the hillside, but less than a mile from the road - with a longing glance. Today, we'd change all that.

Queen of the waste rock pile.​

Operated from 1906-1908 by Dr. Godshall, the Dewey Mine's limited output was combined with that from the Copper World Mine and processed at Valley Wells. A unique inclined tram that lowered the ore 530 feet from its main tunnel to a loading platform is still connected to the upper end of the tram, and the tunnel behind it is one of the most complex in the preserve.

​

Chutes and ladders.​

Whatever copper the mountain had was thoroughly scooped out of its cathedral ceilings. As elsewhere in the area, the ore occurred near the boundary between limestone and an intrusive stock - here diorite, the salt-and-pepper rock stained with green ore on the tailing.

Hiking the Mojave Desert​

It's rare that I can convince @mrs.turbodb to enter an adit, but even she was amazed by what we found. (this was all natural lighting)​

Sleeping batty.​

A sampling of the ore scattered across the hillside. The greens and blues were familiar to us, the purple, not so much. (What is it - a dull azurite perhaps?)


Blasting room door.​

Getting to the Dewey Mine didn't take long, but we could have spent all day - had we a few ropes and the guts to use them - exploring the tunnels that perforated the hillside. As it was, we wandered through what we could without the use of ladders, then headed back down the old mining road toward an even greater adventure on the opposite side of the Preserve.

Not quite noon, but definitely time to fuel up for a big climb up an imposing Cowhole Mountain, to our south.​

As @mrs.turbodb prepped our sandwiches, I admired Little Cowhole Mountain, draped in long skirts of virgin sand, to our north.​

Isolated, and on the far-flung eastern shore of Soda Lake, Cowhole Mountain is a beautiful accretion of desolate desert peaks. We knew that climbing to its summit would be hard work - along an insanely steep gully - but we'd heard enough about the breathtaking ascent to know we wanted to give it our best shot.

At two miles to the summit, the first 1.25 miles - from the wilderness boundary to the base of Cowhole Mountain - was easy enough. Nearly flat, the only obstacles were the occasional creosote and annoyingly invisible underground mice mazes that sporadically caused our feet to plunge several inches into the sand. Still, while the hiking was easy, it afforded us plenty of time to worry about what we saw ahead.

Our target - the v-notch in the upper left - seemed to be at the top of a nearly vertical gulley.​

Even as we'd only just begun our ascent, the views to the north were getting good.​

Following a route described by Michel Digonnet in Hiking the Mojave Desert, we soon found ourselves working our way through a maze of washes and along the edge of a 30-foot bench, towards a dark dike formed of beige-gray felsite and thickly coated with auburn desert varnish. This is where we'd enter a gulley that Digonnet described as "a total elevation gain of about 1,200 feet over the course of only 0.4 miles up the gully. Here, the terrain becomes progressively steeper and rougher, starting as a narrow field of sturdy boulders, soon running into a few dry falls, then the becoming so steep that gravity has stripped off all large boulders, leaving behind a slippery river of loose cobbles tipped at a reckless 50° angle. It is a grind."

Rounding the dike, we took it only on faith that we could navigate the wall in front of us.​

Frequent stops allowed us to enjoy views that kept getting better.​

Somehow, this is the way.​

Nearly vertical faces presented bouldering problem after bouldering problem, but each ended up having plenty of hand- and foot-holds, making the climb enjoyable.


Eventually, we were high enough to see the dry Soda Lake bed, stretching out toward Zyzzx.​

In addition to the fun that we had negotiating our way to the top - continually surprised each time we climbed a section that'd looked impossible only moments before - each new elevation of the ascent seemed to present new and different geology for us to admire.

Most of the boulders in the gully are made of this distinctive light-gray limestone. Wind-blasted to a skin-shredding finish, they provide good anchors to hang on for dear life as you scramble up.​

A band of green serpentine ran through the route, contrasting dramatically with the lighter-colored limestone.​

Just more than two hours after setting off across the desert, we reached the top of the gulley and were rewarded with our first glimpse of the southern flanks of Cowhole Mountain. To describe what unfolded across the desert as breathtaking would be an understatement.

Below, clinging to the foreground, a stark range of jagged peaks and ridges jutted sharply above a desert floor swirling with bleak shades of browns, grays, and reds. Beyond it, the Devils Playground stretched for tens of empty miles, past the deeply furrowed slopes of Old Dad Mountain to the Kelso Dunes outlined against the Granite Mountains.

Other worldly.​

To the north, Little Cowhole Mountain (and the Tacoma) gleamed brightly in the mid-afternoon sun.​

Somewhat surprised that we'd made it - and wondering out loud as to the difficulty of the descent - we covered the final two-tenths of a mile to the summit in no time. There, we reveled in the 360° views as we searched the summit cairn for a logbook.

"I wonder if we'll find Digonnet's entry," I joked, before we discovered - and then marveled - at a few sentences scratched onto a bit of paper 15 years earlier!​

Gazing out across the expansive Mojave, it was rewarding to know that we've explored much of what we could see.​

As was the case with the initial climb, the return trip turned out to be easier than we'd feared when we'd reached the top of the v-notch. Slow-going, some judicious down-climbing, plenty of grippy limestone, and those endless views of Little Cowhole Mountain made for an enjoyable experience.

Back to the Tacoma just under four hours from our departure, we had less than an hour before sunset. Being that it was Halloween, we'd* decided that the perfect place to spend the night would be at the creepiest place in the preserve - the Goldome Mine.

* "we'd" is used loosely here. @mrs.turbodb hated this plan.

Besides the obvious issue of staying at a creepy place on Halloween, we also knew that it'd be well after dark when we arrived at the Goldome, so after a quick powwow, we decided that a good scrubbing with washcloths and consumption of dinner at the base of Cowhole Mountain - while the evening air was still warm - would be the sensible option.

What could possibly go wrong at the Goldome ... on Halloween?

Having traversed the northern boundary of the Preserve once already, we pointed the Tacoma east after finishing dinner and retraced the entire route before arriving at the Goldome Mine just before 8:00pm.

The Goldome - for anyone not familiar - was in operation until 1994 when the California Desert Protection Act suspended mining activity and transformed the East Mojave Scenic Area to into the newly protected Mojave National Preserve. It stood, largely unchanged for over 20 years, until it was vandalized in 2017 by the group INDECLINE. Since then, it's become a magnet for those who think that they are entitled to leave their mark on anything and everything, and the layers of graffiti have continued to pile up.

Unsure if we'd be the only ones there - at least, until Mike met us after racing his way east after work - we were relieved to have the place to ourselves when we arrived. After setting up camp on a remote corner of the property, we wandered around for a few photos. With two of us there - and no wind to rattle the sheet metal - it was a much less creepy experience than the last time I'd visited, but I should have realized that the night was still young.

Seems appropriate for Halloween.​

Activists continue to be active at the Goldome.​

After our long hike and 45 minutes of wandering around, we were both ready to call it a night just as we got a text from Mike. He hadn't left home yet, but he was finally home from work, and was randomly throwing things in his Tacoma in the hopes that some of them would be useful on a camping trip. I told him to make sure he woke me up when he arrived and we climbed into the tent to get some shut-eye.

It was just after midnight when we were awoken by voices and saw the flash of lights spilling over the terrain. Someone was coming.

Sufficed to say, my companion - already against this particular location on this particular night of the year - was not thrilled. In fact, "not thrilled" would be the most euphemistic way of saying that she was completely pissed at me for getting us into this situation in the first place.

Naturally, my attempts to calm her down with reassurances that we'd be fine, were - while well-intentioned - futile. We were going to die.

That is, until Mike pulled up with his music blaring, light bars glaring, and skinny pedal pressed all the way to the floor (or none of that stuff, I don't really know).

Climbing out of the tent, we greeted each other with warm welcomes and immediately got down to our usual business of catching up on the same mundane topics we discuss online - recent places we've visited, new camera gear we've acquired, and of course, how creepy the Goldome Mine can be on Halloween. Or, I suppose, at this point, a few hours after Halloween.

As we did, the three folks - two guys and a girl, all about 19 years old - who'd been poking around and scaring the bejesus out of @mrs.turbodb - wandered over to relate both how terrified they'd been when Mike had come barreling up the road, and how they'd noticed our truck when they'd arrived, and tried to keep their distance so as to not scare us too much!

After chatting for a bit, they headed back down the road to their sedan, and Mike eventually decided he'd go take a few of his own creepy photos as I climbed back into the tent to get horizontal again.

Halloween at the Goldome had certainly lived up to the hype!

Mike, asleep on his feet, and admiring the interior of the old mill.​

Camp under the stars and in the shadow of Las Vegas.​

But that's not all!

Really, there wasn't anything else exciting about the rest of the night, but it was notable for how calm it was. Never have I visited the Goldome when the wind wasn't howling, but there was barely a breeze by the time we finally rolled out of bed - just before 8:00am - the following morning.

Naturally, even before really starting our day, we were late for the itinerary we'd planned, but Mike had mentioned something about getting only 4 hours of sleep over the preceding 72 hour period, so we figured a few extra minutes for him was most definitely worthwhile. Plus, it gave me a chance to snap a few photos in the daylight, and meant that @mrs.turbodb and I could partake in the cereal and strawberries that are always a treat on the trail.

The utterly stoopid Ivanpah Power Station just outside Primm gleamed in the distance as sun broke over camp.​

Anyone for a quick dip in the old cyanide tank?​

A few bits of the graffiti that now decorate the place.​

This - now iconic - miner that was carved and painted onto the side of the settling tanks is one of the few original bits of INDECLINE vandalization that still remains. It was fun to catch it with a sunstar!​

Eventually, after waking Mike from his deep slumber - twice, since he fell back asleep almost immediately the first time - we all got ourselves ready to go, and headed west, toward an adventure we'd been planning for years...

 

The Second Best Site | Return to the Desert #2
Part of the Return to the Desert (Oct 2024) trip.

​

Just as with the Dewey Mine, there's been a rock art site in the heart of the Mojave Preserve that I've known about for several years but have never visited. So, when Mike @mk5 and I were coordinating a couple days of Joshua Tree planting, I was thrilled when - along with all the meals he wanted to cook for @mrs.turbodb and me - he piped up with:

Another thing that didn't occur to me until now... but given your interest in historic rock vandalism, perhaps we could track some down up there, as part of a planting hike?

m(never-seen-rock-art)k5​

At any rate, by the time we finally got under way, the sun was racing towards the western horizon. This wouldn't be the best light for exploring the etchings, but I hoped that we'd have enough light - even after sunset - to enjoy a reasonably shadowless half-hour of discovery.

Plus, Mike had offered our choice of feast after we completed our survey of varnished rocks, and we were going to take full advantage of his delicious sounding menu.

I will happily cook two nights, in fact. But not three, and I insist on at least one. I further demand that you provide me with food on at least one other night. I can offer:

• 
  
  
  • 24 servings of 'chicken and dumplings'. Never gets old.
  • Poached rainbow trout, served with rice pilaf and additional rainbow trout. (I murdered them myself!)
  • Steak with random vegetables cooked in red wine. One component will be slightly overcooked and the other slightly undercooked, but I never know which. I will then drink the remainder of the red wine.
  • NEW: Fish tacos! Devised, refined, and perfected during this summer's unprecedently prolific camping/fishing campaign... a hilariously elaborate and utterly impractical recipe. Served enthusiastically and incredibly slowly, but worth the wait.

Once we're thoroughly stuffed, I will either partially incinerate a batch of Jiffy Pop and offer it to you, or I'll bake a whole entire cake.​

This site isn't unknown by any stretch, but I was surprised by how little travel the road seemed to experience.​

Joshua Trees glowed under the Clark Mountains.​

On our way.​

A guilty grin as I was caught in the act - and with no opportunity to shrug off my goofy hood-under-hat - of snapping a photo.​

The two-mile hike - or, at the speed we were going, more of a stroll - to the petroglyphs was quite pleasant. Temperatures had cooled off but were still pleasant, and with no wind to speak of, we enjoyed picking our way between creosote - that have overtaken an old mining road - toward the pile of rocks that promised to hook Mike on yet another class of destination to search out on his desert wanderings.

Dubious that he'd find anything of interest to look at, it was fun to watch Mike's reaction as we spotted the first panel.

​

"Look, it's a cactus!" -Mike
(It's probably not a cactus.)​

It turns out that we'd stumbled upon what I can only refer to as the "second best site" (that I've found, and I've found a good number) for petroglyphs in the entire Mojave Preserve. Only this ancient highway tops it, in my mind.

Soon, we were all hopping around on the rocks looking for additional panels. Pointing out unique - and not-so-unique - discoveries, I realized that we'd seriously misjudged how much time we were going to need to see everything. Shifting from lazy stroll to keep-up-or-be-lost-to-the-desert, I hoped we could cover most of what there was to see. Boy, was I wrong.

We had to watch our step, there were glyphs everywhere!​

A split panel below the 'cactus.' (left) | Two snakes. (right)


I really liked the bulbous shape in the middle here, which reminded me of a woman encased by some sort of wrapping.​

Another encased woman and a fantastical falcon.​

This glyph was great because it wrapped around the sharp edge of its canvas.​

So much to see.​

A panel of ... maps?​

At the point of the bluff, both sides were covered in shapes and styles that we've encountered elsewhere in the preserve.​

I really enjoyed how the light lines of the petroglyphs contrasted with the dark browns of the desert varnish and the pastel hues of the sunset.​

Shields.


Dotted S.​

Sometimes it's the rock that stands out, and the gentle curve on this one was spectacular.​

​

One of the last petroglyphs I photographed before there wasn't enough light to continue reminded me of the Blueprint Petroglyph I'd searched for several times before eventually finding it.​

With our ISO settings maxed out and barely enough light to navigate the boulders that were our bounty, we eventually called it quits and pointed ourselves back toward the Tacomas.

It would be shortly after 7:00pm when we pulled into camp somewhere along the northern slope of Cima Dome. Dinner - we'd agreed - would be delectable fish tacos, where the fish - two rainbow trout - were allegedly caught by the cook and saved precisely for this occasion.

As Mike assembled a more elaborate dinner than we've ever attempted on the trail, I took the opportunity to fashion an @mk5-style rendering of our camp site.

In the distance, I happened to catch - completely by accident - the vertical beam of Las Vegas' Luxor as it streaked into the sky!​

Dinner was everything Mike promised it would be. Within 45 minutes of pulling into camp, he finally got the first bits - some extremely spicy "not the right peppers, but all I could find at the store" - sizzling over the propane fire ring. Half an hour after that, remainder of the utterly impractical recipe had been executed enthusiastically and we were all enjoying fresh fish tacos in the middle of the desert!

It was a fantastic way to end the day, and after downing every last fish-filled tortilla that he'd brought along, we clustered around the camp fire and chatted the night away. It was a situation that could have only been made better with a "whole entire cake," but apparently, we were going to have to wait on that tasty treat for another time.