AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Was totally amazing that you pulled in. And I'm not sure Monte will ever hear the end of writing a note in the snow for you, hahahahaha.

 

I can see that this new form of storytelling is going to come down to who took the better notes.

Great stuff, keep it up.

 

Nah. I know Dan takes WAY better notes than me.

I think its more about what details the other finds more relevant. So far, it is very cool to see the differences!

 

hahahahahaha, I don't know that it's about "better" notes - probably we both (all) take different notes. I'm loving reading Monte's to see how he interpreted things differently.

Totally. I'm loving this. Your story is jogging memories for me, and after a year of hanging out, I'm finding that things that were irrelevant to me last year have a bunch of meaning now. Like the Magic Carpet - I didn't think twice about that last year, but if I'd written the story this year, it would have been so much different!

Will be interesting to see if, over time, the stories become more similar since there will be more shared history!

 

Interesting..that is good point.

I know for me its those small moments that are special. Like the carpet. Or getting the wifi password through the window lol

But thats whats great about this. We will always have different interpretations. Can't wait to see what your take on the next few days is haha!

 

The De-Tour: Day 4 - Sun! …and a Soap Explosion
September 20, 2017.

Most of us were awoken at 2:00am by Mike's radio blasting when Ben calling over the ham radio to see if anyone was around. I say "most" because Mike slept right through it! Of course, no one was getting out of their tent and into the snow to reply so Ben had to make do with the description of the camp site that Monte had communicated the evening before.

Oh, and there was that "sign" that he'd written in the snow on the road. Hours ago, as it continued to come down.

So when Ben and Kirsten (and the pups) rolled in at 2:38am, we were all a little surprised. At that point, we did roll out of our tents to give a warm welcome before heading back to bed, happy to know that they'd arrived safely.

Ben was the first one up in the morning, and after his dogs discovered our nearest neighbors (who also had dogs and were a little…strange), we chatted for a while before everyone else moseyed out of bed. Though we'd gotten ~4" of snow the night before, it had stopped around 6am, and both our campsite and the canyon we found ourselves in were amazingly beautiful.

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A warm breakfast (made correctly this time - and no plate to wash!) really hit the spot as we all took stock of our gear and got things brushed off and put away (dry snow is way better than rain - the tents were nearly dry as we put them away).

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Ready to go around 10, we had a quick discussion to decide our plan of attack for the day - would we go to Goose Lake, or just skip that and head up Sunlight Basin and then out and over to the Pryor's, essentially writing off a few of the trails Monte had planned?

Or, would we go to Moab?

Yes. It was day 4 of 14 - on a trip where we'd been warned that it could be cold - and Moab was floated. In fact, Ben may have discussed it with Kirsten before they even left home. But we weren't there yet. We still wanted to make The Tour work.

We hadn't had enough pain and suffering. Yet.

We did however decide that with another 6 inches of snow that running Lulu and Goose Lake were probably not the smartest moves, so our plan was to run up Sunlight Basin, and then head over to the Pryor's.

Heading up Sunlight was beautiful. The road was easy and it was overcast, but it was easy to stop and take pictures of the white.

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Along the way, there were several creek crossings, and even one place where the creek had washed out the road for a good 100 feet or so - great fun for all of us, and a photo op for Monte who had raced ahead. Ben also got a pic before heading in…

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Though long, it was a shallow ford and we continued on through several more crossings - each time taking the requisite "poser" shots because well, we like our trucks.

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And then, over the CB, we heard our first "moose" call. Several hundred yards up the hill, Devin had spotted a pair - so it was time for a few animal glamor shots.

The moose were obviously rarer, but boy if the dogs aren't cuter (Milo in this case).

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The end of the trail wasn't much further along, though on our way we did run into a few interesting tidbits. There were the five or so trees that Monte had to clear with his axe. And that of course required a few "lumberjack" comments and whistles. And there were the tracks in the middle of the road, questioned by our tailgunner and identified as "A very special type of wildlife, known as 'hunter'" by the guy breaking trail.

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We ended up running into those hunters at the end of the road where we all turned around for the trek out. They were hunting moose. We didn't mention the ones we'd seen.

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Driving out, we headed back through the crossings and made good time - we were all ready for lunch and began discussing where we'd eat - ultimately deciding on a large bridge and gorge at the head of the valley.

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Waiting for a couple trucks to catch up, we got a good look at large, medium, and small Tacomas. Clearly, I need some bigger tires.

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As we reached the head of the valley, we left the snow behind, for today. And that meant it was time for truck pics!

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It wasn't far to the bridge, and that of course meant…more truck pics. But only a few by us. Most of them were taken by a minivan full of Chinese tourists who were obviously infatuated with our rigs. They took pictures from every angle. They were smiling. Waving.

We weren't celebrities. But our trucks were.

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Eventually, they packed up into their minivan and headed up towards Dead Indian Pass, while we continued to take in the gorge…

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And then we too headed out - it was too windy for lunch so we decided to eat in a town called Bridger, but not before stopping at the pass for Ben and Kirsten to soak it in (since they'd not seen it the previous day with the rest of us).

And that's when it happened. The celebrity of our trucks was just too much for the minivan occupants (who were now with us at the pass).

Well, not all our trucks. Just Frank. With Devin still on board. Thank goodness there was some quick camera work by Monte to catch it!

Check out that pose! And the photographer! Priceless.

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Our day made and after a good laugh, we rolled out towards Bridger - everyone's spirits up as we recalled the hilarity of the entire situation. And as we drove, the skies cleared. The sun shone. Red dirt and golden grass gleamed. It was turning into a great day.

Who needs Moab with weather like this in Montana? We'd obviously made the right decision.

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In Bridger, we refueled and found a city park where we decided to have lunch. It was perfect, until I opened my kitchen box to find the dish soap had exploded over everything. That made it hard to make lunch, so while everyone else ate, I proceeded to rinse soap off of everything.

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Our bodies refueled, we headed to and into the Pryor's - snow free and mostly dry. A new type of landscape, we were hitting bits of ledge, patches of forest, and big vistas. This was what we'd expected.

And we'd have it for all of one afternoon. This one.

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And of course with these vista's, we had to stop and check out the canyons - especially interesting because that's where most of the trees were growing; more sheltered from the snow and wind that blankets the area in the winter. Everyone was out of the trucks looking around and taking it in.

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Not long after, we rolled into camp at the base of the Pryor's. Big, flat, dry, and relatively sheltered, it was a great site. And, for once we got to see it when we arrived - before dark!

Spirits were high as we opened up and aired out the tents, and as we made dinner and gathered around the (propane, since we were back in Montana) fire.

Dinner for me was marinated flank steak, mashed potatoes, and salad. Oh, and Mike broke out a couple avocados and made guacamole with his salsa! We passed around chocolate chip cookies I'd brought for everyone and recounted how crazy the weather of the last few days had been.

We all agreed - unusual for this time of year, and we were glad that it seemed to be getting better. Afterall, we still had 10 more days of adventuring.

Little did we know when we hit the sack early that those 10 days of adventure would dwarf the first four!

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- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 3]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]
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Your trip reports are so good. I cant help but read all of them and follow along imagining I was traveling along with you. I'm always left wanting to read and see more and get excited when i see you posted an update. Cant wait for more!

 

Glad I followed this thread, awesome.

 

Glad you guys are enjoying! This story has been a long time coming, great to finally get it posted on TW. Oh, and it only gets better from here, with a really nice twist at the end.

 

Well cmon! Dont keep me waiting all day!

Great stuff man. I am really enjoying it. I sometimes backtrack and re-read some posts too lol.

 

thats my fault I don't post my chapters as fast as he does normally.

 

It won't be long, surely! Glad you're enjoying the story.

hahahahahaha, it's no one's fault. How fun would life be without some antici...

 

The De-Tour: Day 5 - They survived only by killer instinct
September 21, 2017.

For those of us that awoke to the pitter-patter of rain at 1:30am, our weather-contentment from the night before was short-lived. For everyone else…ok, there was no one else.

We waited for the rain to slow before getting up the next morning - even Ben and I getting up a couple hours later than usual, at 9:30. But, eventually we realized that it wasn't going to stop, so we tumbled down our ladders and got to breaking camp. Oh, and Mike started the only real "breakfast" of the morning, …which was warm by lunch.

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It was at this point that we were all eying Ben and Kirsten's tent. The new-fangled pop-up variety, it looked a bit goofy on the truck, but it put away quickly, and stayed a whole lot drier than the rest of our RTTs.

Still not sure any of us would have traded though. Hahaha!

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As we headed back up the Pryor's, the going was nothing like the previous day. Dry, dusty trails had turned to mud, and warnings of slick sections were frequent. In fact, as we entered the tree line, Monte popped out of his truck to tell each of us in person to be careful - "This part gets off camber and if you slip into the trees I don't think we're getting you out."

Right, "Thanks Monte!" At that point we were are all careful, and we didn't lose anyone. At that point.

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We continued on for a bit, only to hear Monte - over the radio this time - with two phrases that just didn't seem to go together…

Monte - 11:33 - "That was one of the scariest things I've ever done in my life!"

Group -

Monte - 11:34 - "The edge is about to give out, but you guys should follow, I'm going to go get my Muck Boots on."

Right.

Most of us got out of our trucks. But not Zane. Zane started to follow. And then, he lost traction in the mud and started to slide off the edge. Or rather, the edge started to slide down the hill. He stopped.

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We realized pretty quickly that like many of the trails before, this just wasn't happening - at least not today. The problem was that Monte was already through the narrow section (with Frank, a good 12" wider than our trucks), and "There's no way I'm driving through that again," was his reaction when we suggested that we rescue Zane and then all head back down.

Understandable, I guess.

So we decided that the best course of action was to have Ben winch Zane out of trouble, and then have Mike, Ben, Zane, and I head back the way we'd come, and Monte would continue on, heading down the mountain via another route. We'd meet up at the bottom as soon as possible, and stay in touch via ham radio in the meantime.

So out came the recovery gear, and we got started with the rescue - eventually getting Zane winched off of the edge using his slider and a tree, and back towards wider ground.

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We then turned around and headed back down the way we'd come - all of us that is except Monte and Devin.

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Down was easier than up in this case, and by lunch time we were back at the main road, waiting for Frank (which we could hear rev-ing his way through the mud towards our location). Sandwiches were made, and as we recounted the morning - mostly discussing the grippy-ness of the various tires we were all running - it was generally decided that KO2's were probably not the right tire for this trip.

Except by Ben, who was running KO2's. (So was Zane, but he agreed with the rest of us. Sorry Ben.)

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Bellies full, we decided that the only thing to do was to head towards the next stop - an ice cave in the Pryor's that was on a more maintained road than the one we'd just attempted. The highlight of the cave - Monte had told us -was that on an 80 degree day, you could feel 30 degree air pumping out of the mouth of the cave.

That wasn't going to happen, but we wondered if it might actually warm us up on this day.

On the way to the cave, we drove through and around several canyons deep canyons and fire-burned areas. Even on this wet and overcast day, they were amazing. We couldn't help but to stop and take pictures.

Oh, and of the trucks.

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Eventually we reached the trailhead to the cave and made the short trek down the trail to it's entrance.

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Neither warmer nor colder inside the cave, we looked around for a bit and then decided it was time to move on - we wanted to get out of the cold and rain, and perhaps to sunnier skies by the time we camped that night.

We clearly hadn't learned.

So we packed into the trucks and headed down through East Pryor, on the lookout for two highlights - Pen's Cabin, and the herd of wild horses that Monte and Devin had seen in the mountain meadows just weeks before.

What we got, initially, was snow.

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We were breaking trail, and there were points at which Monte was driving by GPS, having lost the road entirely. Later, he'd tell us that "we survived only by his killer instinct in finding the road," which might have been true if we couldn't have simply followed our own tracks out.

But we continued on, and the snow gradually stopped as we reached the top of the ridge (above the clouds), and came first upon Pen's Cabin and then on a few wild horses.

Could it be? Our first success?

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Even Milo's spirits seemed raised. Or maybe he just wanted to chase the horses!

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From there it was back down out of the mountains as (we assumed) the sun was setting - our quest for sun and warmth still unfulfilled - and into Lovell where we could refuel and destroy a car wash by power-washing some of the mud off of the trucks.

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We also picked up Glen @Glenn_R - a third-gen owner - who was going to join our first-gen bunch for a few days of wheeling. The fact that his was Inferno Orange immediately endeared him to Ben, who'd recently purchased the same!

Intermittent rain showers continued as we left Lovell for our camp site some 17 miles down the highway. As we arrived, it was perhaps fitting that a 50-foot long, 12-inch deep mud puddle stood between us and our camp. We each proceeded to gun it through the mud. And yes, we should have skipped those car washes.

Camp was smaller than Monte remembered it, and that unfortunately meant splitting up the crew into two groups. Mike and Glen (in what turned out to be the "red truck" group) ended up hanging back, just out of the main camp but would both survive the herd of "killer goats" that we'd seen as we drove in.

The rest of the evening proceeded as usual - we setup in the dark, made and ate dinner in the dark, and chatted around the campfire until sometime past midnight. We filled Glen in on the adventures of the day (and previous days) and wondered if Mark (@IDtrucks, aka Derp) would be able to find us - because just like Ben and Kirsten a few days before, he was going to drive through the night to meet us for a few days on the trail.

And as usual, as the rain started to pick up, we all headed into our tents hoping that tomorrow would bring just as much adventure, but with significantly nicer weather.

Yeah, one can always hope!

- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 4]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]
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The De-Tour: Day 6 - The day we reached camp before dark
September 22, 2017.

It was 5:22am when Mark rolled in, and curled up in his passenger seat for a couple hours of sleep - that is, until Ben found him around 8 and he headed back into town for coffee and some crazy energy drink - the breakfast of 25-year-olds!

The rest of us stirred late - again, hoping the rain would stop, and then accepting our muddy fate - exiting our tents to perhaps our least beautiful camp site yet. And smallest - separated into the green team and red team the night before.

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As we were getting ready to go, Mark returned - light on sleep but high on energy. His truck - on 35's that stuck out several inches beyond the fenders - was already covered in mud, but that didn't slow him down a bit.

Unfortunately, we also discovered that Zane was being called away for work. Lucky for him, it was in Arizona. Which, we were reasonably certain, was sunny and warm!

Within 30 minutes, we were ready to climb into our dry trucks and go - in search of adventure (which we'd find) once again. Our first stop was Devil's Canyon Overlook - an amazing convergence of the Bighorn and Devil Canyons narrow, winding, colorful canyon cliffs that tower 1,000 feet above the Bighorn Lake.

It was truly breathtaking.

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An amazing echo chamber, we had a blast yelling and carrying on, with conversations that were 5 or seconds delayed but clear as day. And then, Monte got out the elk bugle.

Smiles resulted, all around - perhaps none more-so than Devin!

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Spirits raised, we decided we'd head up the Bighorns to Hunt Mountain road, and eventually to camp just past Antelope Butte, in a high-mountain meadow.

But oh, how we're getting ahead of ourselves.

The closer we got to Hunt Mountain road, the foggier it got. And colder. And snowier. Eventually, we turned off the highway onto the road, and we took a minute to eat lunch. And that gave Glenn and Mark a chance to air down.

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And then we were off. And just like the day before, the weather only got whiter. In fact, where we thought we couldn't see anything the day before, today we could see even less.

Monte remarked, "Well guys, it's déjà vu from yesterday. I'll tell you that it's quite breathtaking when you can see!" To which Glenn replied, "It's actually a bit butt puckering."

Of course, the rest of us already knew of Monte's "drive-by-GPS-killer-instincts," so we just enjoyed ourselves and the trail - spinning tires through the snow, and eventually some of the deepest mud we'd encountered so far, which by the end of the trail meant that certain of us (with 35's that stuck out way past our fenders) couldn't see our trucks.

Devin wasn't pleased. "Monte is doing all the setup and getting everything out of the truck," she said. And that seemed more than reasonable to the rest of us, 'cause that woman puts up with a lot.

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It was at the end of the trail that I also noticed that one of the bolts holding on my bed rack had come loose - the nut having backed off (and likely fallen behind the bedliner). Luckily for me, Mike had a bag of nuts, and the first one I grabbed was a perfect fit. In a few minutes, and after a few pics of some heavy machinery at the end of the trail, we were once again ready to go!

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Then, miraculously, as we headed into what Monte promised was one of the most beautiful areas of the Bighorns, the clouds started to part, and the sun came out.

We. Were. So. Jazzed.

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We stopped several times for pictures along the way, enjoying ourselves in the sun, and letting the dogs run about in glory as the snow melted.

Oh, and there was a near disaster between a moose and Ben's truck. But it was only a near disaster so we continued on!

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And then, we reached our camp site. Only Monte knew it, so when he told us, and it was just 5:15pm, we were all stunned. How could this be? It was still light. The sun was out. We were going to be able to dry our tents. And, we were positioned in the valley so that we'd get morning sun the next day.

It was glorious!

…for about 15 minutes, until the fog started rolling in.

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But that was still just fog, and we weren't going to let that get us down. We built a fire and ate our dinners - Ben and Kirsten had some amazing sausages that they shared with Mike; Glenn ate a pork chop the size of Montana, Devin whipped up foil-wrapped delicacies for herself and Monte, I had cheese tortellini with cauliflower and meat sauce, and Derp dropped a chicken breast directly into the fire (luckily, he had a second he could wrap in foil first).

In all, spirits were high as we gathered around the fire for conversation.

The topics that night were varied - the trip so far and trucks were of course common topics, but it was Glenn's first real night in camp as well - so like me a few nights before, he was subjected to several probing questions about himself, his truck, and how the heck he found himself with this totally awesome, obviously fun, clearly beautiful set of folks…especially given that he drove a third gen.

And then, as we'd become accustomed to on this trip (but still hated), it started to snow.

Naturally, that resulted in a few choice words about the weather, and then we resigned ourselves to washing dishes and covering up things we wanted to keep dry. Well, except that Glenn couldn't cover up his tent.

Fire chat continued until 9:30 or so, when the snow started coming down harder and wetter, and we decided it was best to get warm in our tents and hope for the best in the morning. After-all, we were on the side of the meadow that would get morning sun, right?

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- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 5]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]
​

 

I appreciate the discrete storytelling. What happens around the campfire, stays around the campfire.

 

The De-Tour: Day 7 - End of the trip. For Frank.
September 23, 2017.

Amazingly, Ben @m3bassman wasn't the first one up. Glenn @Glenn_R was, to clean off his tent. Snow had continued through the night, and we had a good 3-4 inches covering everything. It was pretty, but cold.

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As we got up and took stock of the situation, Ben made an off-the-cuff remark that it was too bad it wasn't sunny, because he and Kirsten had been planning on making breakfast for everyone if it had been.

And then, like magic, the sun started to peek through.

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We all smiled and turned to Ben. He mumbled something under his breath and went to talk to Kirsten. And, as we dusted the snow off of everything, they made a delicious breakfast of family-made bacon, eggs, and potato "surprise" (all mixed up in one pot to reduce cleanup) - delicious!

Then, we were off. Getting down was back through the fog, muck, and snow from the night before, but we were "used to it" by now, as much as one can be used to cold and suffering, so we soldiered on.

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Our destinations for the morning were Shell Reservoir and then Boulder Basin - a couple of roads that Monte was sure would "Be fine on your 31's, since you'll use your skids."

Hmm, I'm not sure I equate the two - but I'd been OK to this point, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I mean, it's not like the snow and mud made it even slicker or anything…

At any rate, mid-morning, most folks were down to a quarter or tank or so (except Derp who had 1/8th) so we decided it was time to break out the spare fuel. One of Monte's rules for the trip was to bring at least 5 gallons of fuel, since the plan was to be in the wild for 2-3 days at one point. Everyone did, except Derp. And so yeah, the guy with the least gas had to bum some off of Glenn. Turns out he'd later "permanently borrow" Glenn's gas cans too. Way to go Derp! @IDtrucks

It as also at this point that we noticed how low the reservoir was - normally full, it was a good 10-12 feet lower than normal and we couldn't see any water at all, and not just due to the foggy conditions.

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Full of gas, we wrapped up the Shell Reservoir road and continued to Boulder Basin. In fact, I'm not sure where one stopped and the other started, because the whole area was covered in snow and of similar terrain: "the rocks are the road."

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We proceeded at various paces through the obstacles, not running into too much trouble for a while - even I, on my 31's got through everything with minimal difficulty and only a lost front mud flap (which I'd be reminded by several folks was going to have to come off anyway when I get bigger tires).

And then, over the radio, we heard Devin scream, "Oh f***, watch out!"

Ben rounded the corner first, but we all shortly came on Frank in a bit of a compromising position.

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You see, Monte likes to go fast. And in this case he missed the road and Frank went for a swim. We weren't sure if Frank would be OK, but Devin was definitely sure about one thing, "I hate Frank." And we all understood.

So, we hooked up Frank to Ben's winch and gave a tug. Nothing. Well, not quite nothing - Ben's truck was pulled toward the river as well. Then, we strapped Ben's truck to my truck and tried again - a bit of movement, but we were still pulled forward. Finally, we hooked up two winches and four trucks, and pulled Frank back up onto dry land.

He was waterlogged, but otherwise seemed OK, because luckily he started right up!

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Now able to laugh at what could have been a serious situation, we continued on until the next major obstacle - a narrow rocky section that I decided to by-pass. With 35's, Monte and Derp made it up easily, and Ben was able to gun it at just the right second to bounce over the main rock. But both Glenn and Mike @Digiratus ended up with their rear diff stuck and had to winch themselves up the final ledge, with a peanut gallery egging them on!

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It was all good fun, and as we got back in the trucks, Monte told us that we had just two more major obstacles on the trail - an off-camber ledge that could be really slippery if it was covered in snow/ice, and a final hillclimb that would "be especially fun for Dan."

Dang.

First though was the ledge. Luckily it wasn't covered in snow or ice and so was relatively straight-forward for us to cross. We even gave Monte a bit of a hard time for over-hyping it.

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But then, not fifteen minutes later, we hit the last hill climb. As Monte started up, his last words on the radio were "We may need to winch Dan up this." And then, "Everyone except Derp (also on 35's) is going to need to bypass this one, to the left."

Well, that was enough for all of us to get out and look…and in doing so we noticed that something wasn't quite right with Frank, again.

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Our Tacoma's (and especially Frankenstein) aren't known for their amazing turning radius - so that just wasn't natural. Monte knew immediately - he'd broken a ball joint.

It turned out that one of the four bolts that hold the ball joint had backed out, and then under extreme pressure, the others had sheared. Luckily, Ben had a spare in his OSK, and so we got to work with the trail repair. And it truly was a group effort (of sorts). In order of importance:

• Devin vowed never to ride in Frank again
• Monte was able to fix Frank
• Derp, Kirsten, and Devin made us all hot dogs for lunch while the repair took place
• Ben supplied the ball joint
• Mike supplied a necessary bolt
• Glenn noticed that the truck was slipping and suggested we use the winch to anchor it
• Dan supplied the hi-lift

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With that, and three hours, Frank was once again drivable. But we all knew that the drive out of Boulder Basin would be the last for Frank on this trip. After breaking down on the first day, flinging mud everywhere every day, and two incidents in a 30-minute window today, either Frank was staying home the rest of the trip or Devin was, and we all wanted Devin to continue.

So, it was up and out of Boulder Basin in the increasing snow to air up and head back to Powell.

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But of course, even airing up didn't go to plan as once again, Frank decided to be a pain in the ass and not start after airing up.

Glenn was quick to offer Monte a jump - "Saved by a third gen," he said…except that the jump didn't work - and Frank saved a little bit of face by having us all run behind and push-start start him to get going.

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With that, we headed back into Powell where we first destroyed a car wash and then met Monte's dad and the FRV for dinner before most of us headed Monte's house for the night - we'd still sleep in our tents, but not before our first shower in a week!

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After getting clean, we hung out in the shop until 3am as Monte moved all the gear and communication equipment from Frankenstein to Igor, chatting about trucks, ham radios and APRS (Monte's dad being the resident expert), and what the plan should be for the rest of the trip.

It was at this point that we started to seriously float Moab for the first time. Because, "it's always sunny in Utah," and after our last week, we really needed some sun.

- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 6]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]

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The De-Tour: Day 8 - Ghost Towns
September 24, 2017.

We woke up in Monte's driveway without having been rained on at all the previous night. Glorious.

Ben and Kirsten had taken off early - around 7 - since they had a long drive in front of them before work the next day, and we got word from Glenn (who'd stayed at a Super8) that he too was taking off, and that Derp could keep those gas cans…but not more excuses for showing up without extra fuel.

Ready for some downtime, the rest of us took it easy, happy for both the break in the weather and the mud-free ground.

I made breakfast in the driveway - the last of my eggs, sausage and strawberries, and even used a plate, knowing that there was a kitchen sink just inside the back door that I could use to clean up! Mike and Mark headed to the local coffee shop, where - as luck would have it for Mark - they were big on the country music. And Monte and Devin - with a real bed - slept in.

It was noon when we started thinking about getting back on the road, but we knew that there was some ham and CB radio tuning that we wanted to do - and where better to do it than here with Monte's dad (the expert)? So, we all got our rigs dialed in using his fancy tools, and he even made a new mic for Mark, who'd previously been able to listen but not talk.

Oh well, that'd been nice while it lasted.

Finally, at 2:30 we headed out - first to the grocery store to provision, and then south. First towards Kirwin, an old mining ghost town, then towards Lander and the surrounding area, and then ultimately to a new adventure in Utah.

But, we're getting way ahead of ourselves.

On the road to Kirwin, we passed a herd of farmed buffalo, and then our first stop was at the abandoned Double-D Dude Ranch - our first of three ghost towns for the day - where we also aired down for the remainder of the relatively-easy-but-still-bumpy road to come.

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From there, we continued up the valley through snow, early fall colors, and several wide water crossings. A beautiful drive really.

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At the end of the road, we found Kirwin (and a logging operation that was tearing the place up) and as we got out to take a look - a quarter mile stroll across the creek - it started to snow.

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That didn't stop us - well, except for Mike, who stayed in his truck to enjoy the warmth - and we set out to see what had been left behind when the town had been abandoned in 1907, after an avalanche from the 12,000-foot peak behind town swept away a cabin and the general store, killing three. That was the point at which the remaining 200 occupants decided they'd had enough of the harsh winters and lack of gold, and packed up their things for the last time.

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One of the coolest buildings was the cover to an old mine shaft. While the shaft was long-boarded-up, the machinery used to pull gold-poor ore out of it was still largely in-tact. A big steel barrel that the ore would be loaded into, as well as the gears and pullies that were used to raise and lower it were easily accessible.

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Trying our hand at the levers, we discussed how these would have worked - probably along with some leather belts that the levers would have engaged, these wheels would have acted as clutches between a steam engine and the ore barrel.

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As the snow-fall got heavier, we decided it was time to head back to the trucks and find a place to camp for the night.

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The plan had been to camp at one of the campgrounds back down the road, but we weren't sure we wanted to deal with the snow again, and a quick CB vote meant that we rolled by them without even slowing down. We'd head south, destinationless, hoping for warmer weather.

It was at this point that I mentioned how I "wouldn't mind" a hot spring. I had no idea that Thermopolis - the world's largest mineral hot spring - would end up being just 30 minutes from the spot where we ended up camping for the night.

So we headed east (on our way south to Lander), and once again Devin worked her Google-fu to find us some BLM land where we could camp. Even better, there was apparently a ghost town (Gebo) on that land - our third of the day! - that we could explore in the morning.

Of course, having left Kirwin around 6:30pm, it was dark by the time we arrived near Gebo at 9pm, and as is often the case with BLM, there were hundreds of roads that crisscrossed the land, so we split up to find a good camp spot. Mike ended up finding everything interesting - first a set of "small buildings" that his headlights illuminated coming around a turn, which ended up being a pretty creepy cemetery we'd explore the next day; then a camp spot on high ground that would turn out to be overlooking the valley the next morning.

Happy to be in camp - and without rain or snow - we setup tents, started a fire, and got to making dinner. For me, it was a second night of chicken and mushrooms (with salad) followed by cookies that I shared around. It was our second wood fire of the trip, and the first fire that wasn't ended by rain or snow. We soaked it in until midnight, knowing that the rain we'd been running from all week was coming our direction.

- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 7]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]


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You sir are a gentleman and a scholar
*EDIT* Great pics, looks like you guys had a blast.​

 

Damn, you guys get rowdy out there!

 

The De-Tour: Day 9 - I want to see some sand dunes
September 25, 2017.

The rain we'd known was coming did in fact come, but it passed by 7:00am the next morning as the sun and blue sky revealed themselves through the clouds. In what was becoming a ritual, I got up and explored the area around our camp before the rest of the crew got out of bed.

It was always exciting to see where we'd ended up the night before!

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In the distance, some abandoned structures dotted the badlands - not part of the ghost town of Gebo, but likely mines abandoned long ago.

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Closer to camp, evidence of the high winds was obvious, honeycombing the sandstone in dramatic fashion.

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After exploring, I headed back to camp where everyone was starting to stir. Mark was first out of his tent - likely because sleeping on the ground was less comfortable than the RTTs on Igor and the Red Head - and started making breakfast. The racket he created soon roused everyone else and for the first morning on the trip, we all broke out the kitchens to enjoy a warm meal before we hit the road.

As we did, we marveled at the morning, and remarked that if we'd known the weather would turn nice when we traded Frankenstein for Igor, we'd have done so days ago!

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Off to a late start, we headed back down the road towards Gebo, which we'd read about online the previous night, was an old coal town established the same year that Kirwin was abandoned - 1907. It remained an active town until 1938 with over 20,000 people living in the area. As the town was abandoned over the years, it fell into ruin until 1971 when it was (mostly) bulldozed, except for a few buildings and the cemetery.

The chain-link-surrounded cemetery was where we were headed next, and one by one we each entered and reacted to it in the same way - "oh my, these are all children." With 40 or so graves, all but three were under 5 years old, with the majority being days or months old - it was a sad situation that showed us just how hard life in Gebo must have been.

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Eager to move on, we got back in the trucks for the short jaunt to the outskirts of Gebo. The remains of several homes still stood, and we spent time noticing the details - root cellars, floor joists integrated into the rock walls - these had been well made back in the day.

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We explored the rest of Gebo as well, noticing the materials and style, remarking how cool it would have been to see it in its heyday.

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We left happy to have stumbled upon this cool find, and excited for what lay ahead since we could see the weather was starting to clear. Our trip now was southernly - first to Thermopolis, and then on to Lander where we were going to have lunch (at what turned out to be 3:00ampm). From there, we were unsure of our plans but knew we'd get it figured out!

At Thermopolis, we got out to explore. The worlds largest mineral hot springs, over 3.6 million gallons of water flow out of the spring every day. It's no wonder that several resorts have sprung up around it, each harnessing some of the water for soaking tubs, pools, and even water slides!

Also at Thermopolis, a few young boys were in the parking lot when we pulled up. "Wanna trade?" they asked about our trucks. We mostly ignored them, except to make sure our trucks were all locked. As they pulled away, we got one of our best laughs of the morning - one guys car backfired every time he reved it. Boys .

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Hungry and with two hours of driving to Lander, we climbed back into the trucks and headed out. In Lander, we'd meet up with Brett @BossFoss (and his cousin Hunter) and Marc @SconnieHailer (plus his wife Jen and new baby Calvin) for burgers and a conversation about our next steps.

Because, as Mike had pointed out earlier in the day, as much as we wanted to save The Tour, we'd been stymied by several trails and were now nearly "done," a week ahead of schedule. Still, we weren't yet willing to call it "The Broken Tour," because man - that was depressing! A few weeks later, we'd name it "The De-Tour," with hopes of "The Re-Tour" next year.

But for now, we decided that we'd hit the Killpecker Sand Dunes and then make our way down to utah the next day. That would get Mark one more trail for the trip (he had to be at work by 9:00am the next day), and we figured that where there were sand dunes, there must be sun and warmth. Right?

Wrong. instead we got mud and the coldest night yet, and Mark never got to see the dunes. But let's get to that part of the story in a little bit… As we sped down the muddiest mud that was Killpecker trail, the sun was getting low on the horizon; the colors were incredible, and to top it off, we saw four herds of elk.

So cool.

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The vastness of the space was also incredible - a road at the bottom of the valley headed straight, as far as the eye could see. All mud of course, but pretty from way up here.

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And as we drove, the light got orange-r and red-er. Rain and mountains in the distance was highlighted in rays of gold. The sky was nature's canvas, and we soaked it in.

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As the sun set, Derp came over the radio, "hey guys, let's hurry up, I came for sand dunes, not more mud!" Of course, if we'd learned anything by now it was that we almost never made it to camp before dark and tonight was no different - it was 9:00pm again when we finally decided to stop - not quite to the end of the GPS track, but close, and as far as we felt safe going in the dark (traction in the mud was so bad that Mike slipped into the ditch on the side of the road…though he was able to self-recover).

Unsure of road conditions further on, Derp decided to stay the night - he'd leave at 4:00am the next morning, and get to work an hour late - but at least he wouldn't be stuck in the mud all night.

So we setup camp and got a fire going under clear skies.

Of course, nothing on this trip was going to be easy, and those clear skies meant cold skies - the coldest we'd have on the trip at 24-degrees overnight - but that was something we'd only have to deal with in the morning.

As the coyotes howled literally all around us, we were off to bed around 11:30 so Derp could get an early start, and hopefully not get fired the next day!

Derp would never see the sand dunes, even though we were camped at the base of one nearly 200' high.

- - - - -

Enjoying the De-Tour story?
There's more - @Blackdawg also wrote up a version. Check out his version of this chapter here: [Chapter 8]

or, check out the full story with these links:

As told by @turbodb: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13a] [Chapter 13b]

As told by @Blackdawg: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]
[Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]​