AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Great moments captured man! I can't wait to edit my photos from that day. Light was prime.

 

Was waiting for your Alstrom Point day report, such an amazing landscape all so barren. Went in June when temperatures reached +110F along the way, luckily we wife and I were the only ones up there that night besides a couple desert mice trying to get into my Trasharoo



3rd Gen Rep Poser Shot

 

Another great post, Dan!

It’s bittersweet for me because it makes me severely homesick, but your pictures and descriptions are the next best thing to being back home myself! Keep up the good work!

And sorry to hear that you had to deal with some douchey neighbors at Alstrom. It’s just my own personal feeling, but I’ve never been a fan of rolling boulders for giggles, especially in an arid environment like that.

But that’s just me

 

You seriously need to be Published. Or turn it into a travel log or something

 

Powell is a national treasure. You'll never find any place like it in the world. Unfortunately I didnt get the chance to go this last year.. Need to make it down ASAP.

 

Thanks dude. Definitely a great day for photos. Hahaha, especially compared to the next two...which were also great for photos I guess, but in a different way!

Looks like a blast. Definitely a special place - nice to have it to yourself I'm sure.

Thanks man, appreciate it.

Ehh, it would have been nice to have it to ourselves, but really we got some entertainment out of the other group and at least we weren't in a campground with several hundred others - we got to enjoy the awesomeness of Alstrom! Would be fun to go back for sure.

Well, I've sort of got the latter - adventuretaco.com. In fact, you can sign up for emails whenever I post a new trip report, pretty cool actually.

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It is super nice, and definitely a place to go back to and spend more time. So much stuff down and around there to explore - I'm sure I'll be returning several times in the coming years. Can't wait!

 

Subscribed

 

F.U.Rain Day 8 - The Grand Bench is a Grand Mess
October 6, 2018.

The warm, pleasant weather continued through the night - a welcome respite for us all - so as morning rolled around and I woke just before sunrise, I was excited to look out the tent window and see the sky starting to light up over Lake Powell.

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As sometimes happens, I'd planned ahead - hoping really for this situation - and I had my camera in the tent with me. So, having woken at exactly the right time, I spent the next several minutes enjoying the pinkish-orangish-purplish light as it illuminated the surroundings. And then, as quickly as it started, it was over. I'd had only a single perspective and a few minutes, but it was perfect.

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Content - and frankly, happy with myself for having the camera in the first place - I proceeded to fall back asleep for another 45-minutes. Morning sleep is definitely some of the best! Eventually though, the light started to pick up outside and snapped one more photo from the warm of my bed.

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I then ventured out of the tent to start the day. Clouds had moved in overnight, adding drama to an already amazing view and I wandered out to the end of the point, enjoying the peace and quiet (our neighbors were still asleep - or at least quiet as well).

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By the time I got back, the Mike @Digiratus and Monte @Blackdawg were up and about, equally thrilled with the morning we were having - never underestimate the joy of a dry tent! As I arrived back in camp, we had a quick pow-wow and decided that this would be a great morning to do a big breakfast - a relatively short bit of trail in front of us for the day, and this amazing view to soak in that much longer.

Monte got started on bacon and eggs, and Mike fired up his stove for hash browns.

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Meanwhile, I got to work replacing my AC idler pulley - the bearing on it having started to go a few days earlier, and my hope that it would "fix itself as I continued to drive through muddy washes" turning out to be more fantasy than reality. Having done this just a year earlier, I had a spare in my kit and the swap (to this new, higher-quality replacement) was a straight-forward procedure; re-tightening the belt the hardest part.

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Still, I made sure to be efficient about the whole thing since it doesn't take long to cook bacon and eggs, and there was no way I was going to miss this breakfast when it was ready! And let me tell you, breakfast was amazing - thoroughly enjoyed by all three of us!

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Stomach's full, we embarked on our morning ritual of packing away camp - a much easier task when everything isn't wet and muddy - and then rolled out just before 11:00am, making our way north and then east to the next finger/viewpoint - a pattern we'd established in the Grand Canyon and were now repeating here at Lake Powell.

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Unlike the day before where we'd been in a rush to be the first to camp, it was nice to make the drive at a more leisurely pace this morning, stopping to check out the various overlooks as we passed them. Lots of these overlooks had fire rings as well - really, any of them would have been amazing places to stop for the evening.

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Eventually we made our way back to the main road along the north edge of the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and turned east - into the same dramatic moonscape that had awed us the day before.

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As we traveled east, it was a battle between the sun and clouds - the sun trying to break through time and again, but more and more clouds being blown across the sky. More thunderstorms were in the forecast, and it wasn't looking good. But for now, the roads were reasonable and the washes were mostly dry, so we made - and had a - good time.

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It was just after noon when we headed south again, on the trail to Grand Bench. This was a trail that Monte had talked to Brett @Squeaky Penguin about, and Brett had said something along the line of, "Have fun on the technical section at the beginning!"

Having not really run into much technical this trip, we were unsure exactly what that meant - but excited to find out. And, if I'm honest, we were all just a little dubious as to what could possibly lie ahead as Monte started down the steep trail that would lead us through the canyon and main wash separating us from the Grand Bench.

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As he crawled down, everything seemed just fine - at first. "This would be interesting if it were wet." Monte called out over the CB, but of course we all knew that. It wasn't until a "Hmmmmmmmm" broke the silence that we realized that maybe there was something for us to take a closer look at.

I popped out of my truck and jogged down to see what Monte had run into. Turns out that water had rendered the road down to the main wash a sort of secondary wash - 2-3-foot deep ruts lining nearly all of the road. There was a space - only just wide enough for a first gen Tacoma, and only after crossing one of the ruts in a bit of an off-camber situation - where we might be able to make it. With me spotting, Monte went first.

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Having watched Monte's path, I was next in line. A good idea of where to go, I waited for Monte to get in spotting position before crawling down myself and then running back up to catch Mike make his way down.

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Now at the bottom, it was time for a quick conversation. On the one hand, we all laughed - we now knew what Brett had meant about technical. On the other, we commented out loud that we were glad it was dry - that would have been no fun to do in the rain...as we looked up at the sky, rain clouds threatening overhead. But more on that later.

Oh, and on the third hand - as we climbed back into the trucks to continue on our way - we had no idea that what we'd experienced was the easy part of the canyon! As such we continued on through the (dry) wash, and started up the other side.

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Going up turned out to be more difficult than going down. The soft dirt and loose rocks that formed the base of the road made traction tough - especially for Monte who had no lockers. Try as he might, he was unable to get the traction he needed - several attempts at carefully picked lines and spotting ultimately ending in defeat when one or more tires would start spinning and digging into the soft ground. Eventually, we decided that the safest bet would be to have Mike and I head up first with our lockers and winches - so Monte backed down to a platform so we could squeeze by.

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With that, Mike started up first, following a line spotted by Monte - stay high and right, even as the rear end falls down to the right.

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With some wheel spinning and a single reset, Mike made it up. While he headed further up trail to find a spot to turn around so he could winch Monte if necessary, I ran back down to my truck and headed up the same route. Skinny pedal, nimble steering, a rear locker, and Monte spotting, my truck was through without incident - and that meant we'd be fine, my truck able to anchor Mike's if his winch wasn't enough alone.

As Monte headed back to his truck, I climbed the cliff at the top of the hill.

Monte gave it the gas.

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...and then - with no help from either Mike or I - and with a big grin and a wave - he made it under his own power!

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We were all obviously happy about that, and of course we each had our own explanations. Monte of course let us know that "I don't need no stinking lockers." to which Mike and I reminded him that we'd graded and compacted the road for him before his last attempt. I guess we'll never really know who's right - both statements are technically true.

Though, the road was definitely compacted by two trucks before Monte made it, and he wasn't able to make it without lockers when it wasn't. Just saying.

But I digress. We'd spent a good amount of time on this canyon crossing and we had a way to go before we reached the Grand Bench. Our discussion now - given the clearly impending rain and weather warnings on the ham radio - was about whether we wanted to camp at Grand Bench or try to make it out and back through this section of trail before the ground was saturated.

Ultimately, we decided that either way we were going to Grand Bench, and that we better get on it. So we did.

Having completed the toughest section of trail, we hoped it'd be easy-going the rest of the way; however the the trail was rough and the going was slow one as we bumped and wound our way towards the end of the point, racing against the rain. But, with 8 miles to the Grand Bench, the rain started, quickly soaking the ground around us.

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We pressed on, eventually transitioning from rocky ledge to a smoother, sandy-muddy trail that would carry us the final few miles to our destination. At this point, we were passing in-and-out of storm cells, hoping that the real downpour would hold off until we could make our way all the way back - a saturated canyon the last thing we wanted to tackle, most likely in the dark.

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And then, we got our first glimpse of the lake since we'd left Alstrom Point. This was Friendship Cove - spectacular really, and a place we'd have enjoyed more if it weren't for the threatening weather. As it was, we did our best to capture it, and then got moving again as quickly as we could.

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It was 4:15pm when we finally arrived at Grand Bench. Unlike Alstrom Point, we were 100% sure that we weren't going to run into anyone else way out here - the initial canyon impassable for all but the most prepared explorers. Another hint that we'd be alone was the fact that there were zero fire rings the entire length of the trail - essentially, if you decided to run to Grand Bench, you were going to camp at Grand Bench!

As we pulled up, it was raining - so we hung out in the trucks for 15 minutes until the storm cell passed. Eventually it did, and we got out to explore. I've got to admit, it was dramatic - similar to Alstrom but different. And definitely more rugged and remote.

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Like Alstrom, there were several "levels" to the rocky outcropping that extended into the lake. Always curious, Monte and I traversed down one to the other, hoping the last layer would take us far out into Lake Powell.

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Alas, the last layer we could access still kept us a couple hundred feet above the lake - tantalizingly close to a beautiful finger extending into the water - the closest we'd been so far. And the closer we got, the cooler the colors - the deep blue color of the deep lake water turning green near shore, a stark contrast to the patterned, orange rock on which we stood.

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Making our way back up to the trucks, it was time for a serious conversation about our plan for the rest of the day. Ultimately, we listed three possibilities:

1. Stay here, camping at Grand Bench - weathering the storm on the horizon and hoping it would pass during the night.
2. Head back and get ourselves through the canyon - likely in late dusk or dark, hopefully before too much rain fell, saturating the ground.
3. Head back to a spot just above the canyon and evaluate the situation at that point. If it looked like the trail was impassable, we could camp there until conditions changed.

In the end, and given the time, we opted for option 1 - camp at Grand Bench. And so it was that we circled our trucks to create a bit of a wind break and Mike set about deploying his tent and awning before it started to rain again.

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Monte and I on the other hand opted to leave our tents stowed - the hope being that any downpours would occur before bedtime and be weathered by the rubber tarps covering our closed tents, allowing us to keep them (nearly) dry through the night.

With Mike's awning out, we gathered under it - the weather calm for the moment, and had some good time surfing the internet from our remote location on Lake Powell. We even had a bit of fun on TacomaWorld, each posting a photo of our "view" - really just a photo of another member on the trip.

Yes, we are complete goofballs.

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It wasn't long before the storm behind us on the lake was above us - the wind having picked up and the rain starting to fall. The awning no longer able to keep us dry from the driving rain, we retreated to the trucks - Monte and I glad we'd waited on our tents - the wind whipping relentlessly at Mike's, rain blowing up and under the rain fly.

It was torrential, and kept us in our trucks - communicating via CB radio - for much of the evening. By 7:00pm, the wind and rain still strong, thunder and lightning had been added to the mix - the interval between them less than four seconds.

"F*ck you rain." said Monte - rightly - over the radio.

Finally, at 9:30pm, the storm let up enough for us to venture out and assess the situation. Everything not in the trucks was wet. Mike's entire camp, all of our chairs, and the firewood - all soaked. And, on the horizon, more weather. It was clear that we weren't having a camp fire this evening, and even cooking dinner was going to be a hurried affair. With a pack of fully-cooked hotdogs in the fridge, Monte offered to feed us all - and so it was that we each ate a couple dogs for dinner, a couple more priceless quotes escaping Monte's mouth as he handed us the warmed meat:

And then, unable to delay any longer, and with more rain imminent, we finally deployed our tents and immediately climbed inside. As we did, the imminent rain was upon us - as was the wind.

We were dry. And warm. But I for one wondered if we'd made a mistake - one that would mean we weren't leaving any time soon, if water made our retreat impossible. To know for sure, we'd have to survive the night.

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YEA fun stuff. Hot dogs are amazingly quick and easy (I Hesitate to use the word meal)

 

Northern AZ mud is some of the stickiest mud I've ever been in. Growing up I lived in northern AZ and have been around the moonscape areas when they get wet. If you are walking, every step you get more until you have to stop to pry it off with a rock or stick. If driving your treads stay hard packed and turn to slicks. Nasty stuff.

 

Yeah, the bentonite clay is crazy when it gets wet - that was our concern staying at Grand Bench - would the saturated ground mean we were stuck?! Just wait for tomorrow's post! hahahahaha

First encountered bentonite in Montana in 2017 on The De-Tour, when several folks stopped to rinse it off in the middle of the trip. No opportunity to do that this time!

 

Those sunrise pictures.

 

You left out the part where you wanted to just sleep in the truck and Mike and I had to coax you out of the cab

 

Inquiring minds want to know.

 

So nice, I agree. Let's go visit again.

I have no idea what you're talking about. I believe it was you who once argued to Mike that over some detail of a past trip: "We can go see the truth by looking in the write-up."

 

You'll have to wait for my version on this trip haha will be posted much later.

Well. I will write the real truth about the events of this evening then

 

I'll join you guys on one of these adventures.

Been thinking of heading back to HITR, may have to make a detour back to Alstrom.

 

Good, I was hoping to not have to wait for your trip report, given it's due date somewhere in 2020, unless you buy a house in which case it'll be 2025 or later.

Edit: this part of the story will most definitely be more fun for me from your and Mike's perspective. Can't wait to see how it gets written down . It was hilarious, and I'm glad you coaxed me out, eventually.

Wish I'd remembered to write it down.

Old age, no good for memory.

I'd love to go to HITR too! Was hoping we'd hit it this time but we had too much other stuff and uncooperative weather. Just another "next time" on my list.

 

F.U.Rain Day 9 - "Seriously?"
October 7, 2018.

The wind and rain continued steadily all night, though we were fortunate to not have any more lightning and thunder, given our exposed position. With earplugs I slept soundly - rocked now and then by the wind on the tent - until 7:30am, when I'd normally be out of the tent enjoying the sun peeking over the horizon.

Not today though - today the rain was coming down hard and I was thinking to myself, "We're going to have an interesting trip out of here..." But that would come later, and for the time being, I read my book and waited - hoping for a break in the weather.

Turns out, so were Mike @Digiratus and Monte @Blackdawg - so, when the rain let up at 8:30am, we all simultaneously climbed down out of the tents - onto the most saturated surface we'd experienced so far. I'd expected this the night before, and had entered the tent on the passenger side - leaving the rain fly on the driver side down to shield the rain just a bit more.

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As we looked us, it was clear that the break in the rain was going to last a little while, but that there was no hope that the weather was clearing. So, Mike got started on coffee, I ate a bowl of Cheerios, and Monte had the breakfast of champions - Hostess Donettes.

The evening before, I'd noticed a rock cairn built on the edge of the cliff, on a plateau perhaps 75 feet below our camp - so breakfast wrapped up, I set out to explore. The cairn turned out to be much larger in person - nearly 4-feet tall, and naturally the view of the lake from it's perch was amazing.

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But we could see the weather was coming, so Monte (who was also out looking around) and I headed back up to stow our tents and gear - wet again - before we'd be caught out in the rain ourselves. Packed up by 10:30am or so, pulled out shortly after - just as the rain started coming down again. Needless to say, it was muddy.

Very muddy.

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Splashing through puddles, we made our way toward what we knew was the biggest obstacle we'd face that day - the deep canyon and wash that Brett @Squeaky Penguin had warned us about - that we'd struggled through when it was dry the day before. As we did, we climbed up and away from the lake - the last 12-hours of rain adding a new dimension to our surroundings.

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As we got closer, it became more evident that the rain we'd gotten wasn't just a small cell - it was a true storm. Washes that we'd not even noticed the previous day were running strong, water spilling in - over the ledges - from all directions.

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The further we went, the wetter and muddier it got - the mud flicking itself up onto our trucks, mine especially with SCS Stealth6 wheels that stick out an inch further than my original wheels. I wasn't loving it - but looking back now, I had nothing to complain about at this point!

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It took us a couple hours to make it through the mud - past larger and larger washes. We stopped at several, trying - I'd say futilely - to capture the rushing water running over the normally-dry landscape. While this definitely wasn't what we'd anticipated, it was something not everyone gets to experience - so special for sure!

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Finally, we spotted the main wash through the canyon. Still a half mile or more away, it was clear to us at this point that we were likely to have a problem - the wash, which had been completely dry the day before, was a rushing river, all the washes we'd passed so far feeding into it.

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At that point we knew that the smart call was to wait. Wait until the rain stopped; wait until the water drained off the ledges; wait until the smaller washes drained into the larger ones; wait until the water level in the main wash receded.

But it wasn't just the wash we had to contend with - in fact, the wash wasn't even our main concern. You may recall that our trip up and down the canyon the day before was sketchy even when the ground was dry. Today, with the ground saturated, it could be a disaster - if we started slipping down, there'd be no way to stop - a trip over the edge always a risk.

So we made our way - over the last off-camber washout in the road, our trucks flexing awkwardly - to the final landing above the descent into the canyon and got out to further evaluate the situation.

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The rain still coming down, I assumed we were here for a while, and popped back into the truck after taking a few photos. Monte walked to the top of the descent and scoped it out, coming back a few minutes later to let us know that he thought, "I think we'll be OK getting down, we should give it a shot and see what the wash is like."

"Seriously?" I said, in - as you may be able to imagine - a voice of disbelief. That got a good chuckle from Monte over the CB, as he explained that the road was wide enough on the way down, and with enough platforms to slow our descent, that he felt the risk on that part of the trail was relatively low.

We all agreed and started down - Monte ultimately right that our descent would be uneventful - until we reached the edge of the main wash.

In fact, it was at this point that the wash and road shared the same path for several hundred feet - several hundred feet of unknown depth and unknown terrain. We had two options - wait an unknown length of time for the rain to stop and water to recede, or tentatively make our way through the wash.

No one ever accused the three of us of being the sharpest tools in the shed, and so it was that Monte inched out into the wash. Tentatively at first, and then purposefully upstream, until he was eventually out of sight. A few minutes later, a call of success over the CB radio.

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Mike was next on the trail and followed a similar path, Monte relaying the fact that it was a reasonably easy route with just a single deep hole we had to navigate.

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Mike making his way through, I jogged back to my truck and eased into the wash and headed upriver. A foot or so deep, the water was fast moving but no danger to any of our rigs, and within a few minutes we were all stacked up in the road on the other side of the wash. Sort of. Turns out that the road wound it's way along the side of the wash for a quarter mile or so, and then crossed it one final time - a crossing we eased into and powered out of with more confidence than the previous one, given our success so far.

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Now on the other side, our spirits were on the up-and-up - a little camera play on the docket for sure.

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All that was left was the climb up-and-out of the canyon - around and across the 3-foot deep ruts in the road, now even deeper from the nights rain. With lockers and winches, Mike and I headed up first, once again prepping ourselves in case Monte needed a pull. Everything set, I spotted Monte up the trail - everything navigated without issue - all three trucks now through one of the most serious obstacles we'd face the entire trip.

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It'd taken us nearly 4 hours to travel 12 miles, but we'd done it. Whatever was in front of us, we were sure would be a comparative cakewalk. As it turned out - that was an assumption that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Our goal for the day was to make it north through Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument to Left Hand Collet Canyon - less than 25 miles from our current location - to find camp and explore an old Native American granary there. And so it was that we set out, the colors of the rock around us brilliant despite the gloomy weather.

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With less than 25 miles to travel, it didn't worry us that the beginning was slow going. The roads - the same well-graded ones we'd been traveling on for a week - were saturated and muddy. Thick, clay-based, and sticky, this bentonite mud caked onto and into our tires almost immediately, with two effects: first, our traction went all wonky, requiring us to slow to a snail's pace. Second, as we spun our wheels to power through dips or up steep grades, the sticky mud was flung everywhere, coating the sides and tops of trucks in sticky goo. Oh, and in my case, the bed started to fill up as well - now my wheels were really giving me something to complain about.

All thanks to the rain. "F*uck you rain." said Monte over the CB as he slowly crawled up a hill and was stopped by a 700lb boulder that had fallen across our path.

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Without moving the boulder we weren't going to make it any further, so all three of us positioned ourselves along an edge and counted to three before heaving. And then, near disaster - as Mike went skittering off the side of the boulder, nearly hitting his head on Monte's front bumper. Luckily for us all (but unluckily for Mike), he "only" bashed his shoulder against the tire - an injury for sure, but one that we'd take any day over a broken skull.

Oh, and now Mike was covered in the sticky goo, too. So as he got himself squared away, Monte and I pushed and pulled the boulder out of the way, a quarter-rotation at a time - eventually moving it far enough out of the way for us to pass.

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The going continued to be colorful, but slow - the rain having washed dust off of the rocks around us. Yellows, oranges, reds, blues, and maroons popped all around.

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But that same rain turned the dust into mud, making the roads treacherous - washouts and ditches now traps sucking us in rather than easily avoided. We each took our turn slipping into these traps - and accelerating out, none of us inescapably caught!

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We continued this way for nearly four hours - a sub-10 mph pace over roads normally carrying us at 30+ mph. We climbed from 3,900 feet to over 6,600 feet during this time, the views still dramatic, but limited by the surrounding clouds.

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And so it was that as we neared 6:00pm, and as the rain continued to fall, that we reached the granary at the top of Left Hand Collet Canyon. Smaller than we'd imagined, the cliff-dwelling like structures were initially a bit underwhelming as we explored the area for what we thought was a large rock-lined granary dug into the ground.

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In reality however, the rock-dwelling-style granary was pretty cool and our underwhelmedness was likely due to the grueling day we'd had - the shortest by far from a mileage standpoint, but by far the worst when it came to trail conditions and weather. So it was that we explored the nearby area, looking for a place to call it a day. We found one, not far away at the end of a spur road, and it wasn't long before camp was setup, in the rain.

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Hoping the rain would subside, we gathered under Mike's awning as the temperature dropped into the mid-30's. Unfortunately for us, it never stopped raining - our second night in a row without a campfire! We didn't let this stop dinner however. Earlier, I'd made a hobo-meal of sausage, potato, red bell pepper, zucchini, and cauliflower - more than I could eat, but not enough for three. But, when Mike offered up some chunks of seasoned steak, and Monte offered his stove to fry it all up, we turned it into a great hot meal for the three of us - cooked in the rain, but eaten in the relative dryness of Mike's awning.

Having waited for the rain, by the time we wrapped up dinner it was getting late, and with the chilly air we all decided to call it a night earlier than normal. As we climbed into our tents, we were all hoping that the next day would be warmer and drier - the rain and mud getting old, fast.

But, for all the cold and wet - there were three things for which I was hopeful - there was no lightning in the forecast, the wind was light, and if the rain continued into the night, it might rinse some of the mud off the truck!

...and with that, I nodded off to sleep.

 

Nice.