AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Thanks for the input.
Getting up is the harder part. My 70lb boy will run in between me and the ladder when I tell him its bed time and let me pick him up and carry him in 1 arm. I've been doing it this way with him since he was 4 or 5 months old. Getting down he stopped letting me carry him. On trips he always has a harness on(with a handle) so now he lays at the door, I grab the harnesses handle, tell him jump and he jumps into my arm. My 50lb pup gets carried down the ladder. I got him to jump a few times but now he just acts scared and wont budge.

 

Activities.. Thanks again for the recommendation. Game-changer is an understatement.

 

Death Valley Connections Part 1 (Jan 2020)

Prologue
It was 4:04am on a Wednesday morning when I pulled out of the driveway and pointed the Tacoma south towards Death Valley. I was looking forward to the warmer weather - the forecast in the mid-70°F's - but even more than that, I was looking forward to the company. Because - while I was all alone for this leg of the trip - I planned on making two connections in the next several days that were long overdue.

But first I had to make it south. At 20 hours - with refueling and food - it would be a long day, so I settled in with a full library of my favorite podcasts and the cruise control set way above my usual 62mph - today I was going 65mph! Hey, it'd save me an hour over the course of the trip.

The day passed mostly uneventfully - traffic was light and though there was a bit of a headwind, it wasn't too bad. I made only one mistake during the day, which was taking a route through Nevada that was more direct than my normal route. This saved me 20 minutes or so, but meant that my opportunities to eat after 9:30am were extremely limited. I ended up finding a McDonalds - which always seems to give me a headache - in Battle Mountain, NV, at 4:30pm, and resigned myself to a small meal. It was a good reminder that the shortest route isn't always the best, and next time I'll be travelling south through the likes of Fallon, where the food options are more plentiful.

In planning my trip, I'd found a site just outside of Beatty that seemed like an ideal spot to camp before entering Death Valley the following morning, and it was 11:00pm when I found myself situating the truck on a perfect little knoll before deploying the tent and climbing into bed. I think I read for all of three minutes before my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

Look Who is Behind Me
Excited to get the fun part of the trip underway, I'd naturally set my alarm for much-too-early o'clock, and so stayed cozy under my comforters for half and hour reading before I couldn't stand the colors outside my door any longer. The day was forecast to be clear in the valley - and I could see that it was clear to my west - but a nearly perfect cloud cover to the east made for a dramatic show to say the least - the colors progressing from pinks to orange as the sun neared the horizon!

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I set about making a simple breakfast of cereal, and wandered around my knoll a bit, marveling in the spot I'd found - so easily accessible and yet still quite lovely. While I happened to camp on a knoll, there were also several more protected sites that would work well in windier weather, so this may be a location that we use on future trips to Death Valley as well.

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Of course, as great as this spot was, it was far from my highlight for the day - so I made my way back to the truck where I rinsed out my bowl, assembled my lunch, and broke down the tent. Just before 8:00am, I rolled out of camp and towards Death Valley.

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For anyone who's considering entering Death Valley through Beatty, I highly recommend using Titus Canyon as your entrance to the park - not only are the narrows near the west end of the road a joy to drive through, but the colorful views from Red Pass rival those found anywhere in the park. As such, I'd decided that this would be my route for the morning, and it wasn't long before I was aired down and heading west.

I was not alone. In my mirror, a fellow explorer I'd wanted to meet for some time - his adventures in Death Valley providing inspiration for several of the places I've visited over the last couple of years.

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Ken @DVexile had spent the last few days on his latest adventure, and while he had to be back in Las Vegas later in the day, he'd suggested that we meet up to hike Fall Canyon before he headed out. That sounded great to me - especially since the trailhead was at the western mouth of Titus Canyon, and when I let Ken know I'd meet him there after running Titus at a time of his choosing, he jumped on the chance to meet up just a bit earlier to run the trail together.

So now, we were two.

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With me in the lead for this first stretch of Titus Canyon, we made reasonably good time - though with a stop here and there for photos - and soon found ourselves at my favorite section of the trail - Red Pass. I couldn't help but to snap a photo reminiscent of my first trip to this location two years earlier.

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January 2018. Early days.​

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A little heavier with age.​

The real star of this place is the view, and both Ken and I spent more than a few minutes doing our best to capture the moment as best we could, all the while sharing stories of some of our early left-the-tailgate-open-when-driving-off follies.

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Red Pass isn't quite the halfway point on the trail, but I wanted to snap a few photos of Diet Taco on the trail, so I had Ken pull around and head down into the kaleidoscope of colors while I snapped a few photos. A white truck really does pop nicely in a location like this.

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Even a 2nd gen is small out here.​

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Where's Waldo?​

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Travelling with someone for the first time, there's always a bit of "learning each other" that goes on initially, and over the first part of the trail I hadn't been sure what speed was the sweet spot for Ken. I'm not generally known as a speed demon in my normal circles, but I do know that I've started to go a bit faster recently as I've gotten more and more dirt miles in the rear view mirror. I was happy to discover - as he led us down to the ghost town of Leadville - that our speeds were reasonably similar, a good indication that neither of us was likely to feel put-off by the other.

We made our final stop along the route in Leadville. Having both visited in the past, we did more chatting there than anything, discussing the history of the spot but not hiking over to investigate more closely. Leadville, it turns out, was officially established on January 30, 1926 - exactly 94 years to the day before our visit - lasting less than a year before the the mines there went bust and the post office officially closed. This of course is a similar story to many mines around Death Valley, though Leadville was one of the shortest lived.

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Now looking forward to what was really our main goal for the day - hiking Fall Canyon - we climbed back in the trucks for the section of Titus Canyon that I think most people spend most of their time in - the narrows. Here, thick layers of material have been uplifted, compressed, and eroded into striking configurations that can consume hours if one has the time. Today however - even with the narrows to ourselves - we opted to enjoy them "in motion" so as to give ourselves a bit more time on foot.

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Pulling into the parking area at the end of Titus Canyon - and the trailhead for Fall Canyon - we were delighted to see that there were relatively few cars parked, a sign that we might have a reasonably peaceful experience on what is sometimes a heavily traveled route. Now close to 10:30am, we each gathered our lunches, cameras, packs, and started out up the canyon mouth - at this point a reasonably wide wash.

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We made good time over the first couple of miles, Fall Canyon's walls rising up on either side, much of the geology recognizably an extension of what we'd seen in Titus Canyon - a cool realization that's not often obvious, since we don't usually experience two adjacent canyons in such a short time period. Before long we came to a short side canyon and took a bit of time to investigate it - and the dry fall at its end - before heading back to the main wash.

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Two miles into out trek, we ran into the only other group of hikers we'd see in the canyon. Stopped for lunch, they were situated just below a dry fall and assured us that we were "almost to the end" as we walked by and bid them good morning.

We both looked at each other an grinned - we knew this would not be the end of our excursion up Fall Canyon.

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Both of us - well versed in Digonnet's Hiking Death Valley - immediately started looking for a bypass that was some 300 yards down wash and would require a fun shimmy up a small chimney to a trail that led around the fall. Easy to find if you knew it was there, we made short work of it and continued on our way, the narrow wedge of the dry fall as striking from above as below.

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Surely it must have seemed to the hikers we passed that we'd simply "disappeared," but for us, the most intriguing portion of the trail was still ahead - because above the dry fall, the walls of Fall Canyon narrow - not to a slot per-se, but dramatically enough that you can extend your arms to touch each side. The rock here also changes to a smoother grey-blue, the walls polished by material flowing down the narrows over millions of years.

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Layers of orange sediment highlight the otherwise monotone walls.​

Another mile or two and we'd reached our turnaround point for the day. Retracing our steps through the uppermost narrows, we found a nice spot that afforded both shade and splendid views, to eat the sandwiches and snacks we'd dutifully packed prior to setting out.

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There was no shortage of conversation as we enjoyed the quiet of the canyon. Strikingly similar work and family experiences, as well as having a shared interest in adventure meant that we had plenty to both laugh and laughingly commiserate about. Soon enough, we headed back down the way we'd come - Ken noting that canyon hikes like this were some of the best out-and-back style hikes because everything looks different depending on which direction you travel.

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Another angle on the dry fall we bypassed to reach the narrows.​

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Though reasonably flat, our trip down the canyon seemed even quicker than our trip up, and it wasn't long before we reached the trailhead parking lot. It was 2:30pm or so and time for Ken to air up and make tracks towards Las Vegas as I made my way north towards Eureka Valley and the remainder of my trip.

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Hand shakes and safe travels, we parted ways as we hit Death Valley Road - a splendid way to start a trip for me (and hopefully to end for Ken). Still aired down, I had an hour or so of dirt to tick off before I'd arrive at camp, so I set the cruise control at 45mph and enjoyed the surroundings - the warm, sunny weather a nice change from the winter gloom of the Pacific Northwest.

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Having never driven this section of road before, I was just tootling along when my phone started going crazy with notifications. It's always amazing to me where you get service, and I figured that I might as well check to make sure everything was OK back home, so I pulled over at an intersection I happened to be passing. Turns out, this was Crankshaft Junction - a place I've heard of from other's adventures, but one I never knew the location of.

Funny how life's little coincidences can work sometimes!

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Everything at home was just fine, and after a few quick texts with another buddy about some upcoming logistics, I continued on my way - the only thing between me and Eureka Valley now a few miles of road that wound up, over, and through the Last Chance Range.

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Those miles ticked off easily enough - even with a bit of snow at the highest elevation, there was no problem on the road at all - and before long I found myself on the west side, the shade I'd been in on the east giving way to the long rays of late afternoon sun streaking across the valley.

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It was still early - maybe only 4:45pm - but being winter, that meant that there wasn't much sunlight left in the day. Luckily, my planned camp site wasn't far, and so I made my way south towards the center of the valley and the terminus of Dry Well Road, the Last Chance Range rising up behind me; Eureka Dunes to my south.

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My first order of business upon arriving in camp was to pull out my chair and book and just relax a little bit. It'd been a full - and fun - couple of days, and I was ready for a bit of downtime. A mostly cloudless sky didn't afford much color, but the pleasant weather and view to the south over the dunes still made for a pleasant way to read for a few minutes before my eyes closed and I enjoyed a 20 minute nap.

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A nice place to relax.​

Refreshed, I was hungry, and it's always better to make - and clean up after - dinner while there's still a bit of light out, so I broke out the stove and warmed up my first installment of the only dinner I'd brought for the entire trip - tacos!

The light fading in the sky, and minimal cleanup necessary, dinner was a quick affair. Looking up, the sky had faded to a splendid purple by the time I'd gotten everything put away.

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The temperature dropping quickly under clear skies, I bundled up and did a bit of photo sorting and cataloging before realizing that I was too tired to be of much use. Even my short nap hadn't made up for the 9 hours of sleep I'd gotten the last three days, so by 7:30pm, I put everything away and climbed up into my cozy tent.

My eyes closed quickly as I thought of both the day I'd just had and the day to come - both days I'd been looking forward do for the last several weeks. And both of which would end up exceeding my expectations!

 

It was awesome spending the better part of a day with you. Hope we can make it happen again sometime. Great write up as always and thanks for the nice Fall Canyon photos - I didn't get my camera out much during the hike!

Oh, and so they can properly live in your thread as well - two Titus Cayon Road photos featuring your rig:

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Heading out to DV for several days. Post has me all amped up!

 

I'm all for doing it again. As always, shout if you've got an upcoming trip and don't mind the intrusion. Actually, one thing I'm also looking at is a trip to the eastern Mojave - St. George (and slightly west) area. Similarly close to Vegas and a whole different kind of terrain. Just sayin.

Beautiful place for sure. Wish I could live there for part of the year! Where are you planning to visit while you're there? (generally, I don't mean to have you spill any secret spots)

 

Sounds like my neck of the woods

 

Here's my planned route, plan several stops along the way to check out POIs, just a big loop this time around.

 

The route over Hunter Mountain is likely impassible right now due to snow, ice and mud. Up and down Lippincott (not shown on that map) is probably a much better option this time of year.

 

I have Lippincot marked as an alternate route. But from what I've seen it would be a more challenging route than Hunter Mountain? Although if Hunter Mountain is snowed in then lippincott becomes the main route. Typically I'd hit the harder route but going solo wanted to keep it on the easier side. Air down and just take it slow.

Still about two weeks out by the time I'll hit that area of the route.

 

That doesn't seem too bad compared to some of my previous trips... How'd the dogs handle the trip?

 

Heart Attack?

 

Even a stock 4WD Tacoma should have no trouble on Lippincott. I did it many many times in a bone stock 1992 4x4 Toyota Pickup.

When Hunter has snow and ice on it there is a much higher chance of getting stuck than on Lippincott. And there is a nasty long mud bath on the top that lingers late into the season known to trap even 4WD vehicles. During the summer and fall Hunter is definitely the easier route. After a wet and cold winter like this it is usually to be avoided.

Looks like an awesome trip you have planned. Enjoy!

 

@Zam15 - that looks like a great route. Long too - hope you've got plenty of time planned for the trip . I've found now that I can easily spend 3+ days within about 20 miles driving to any given area of the park... (as you'll see in this trip in-progress report, hahaha). When I first started going though, I had routes like yours - hoping I could "see everything" in a visit. So, I totally get where you're coming from.

The recommendation about Hunter Mountain and Lippincott is a good one. Just a point of reference - I was going to do Hunter Mountain on this last trip, but decided not to due to snow/ice. Glad I did, as later in the trip, we (a yet-to-be-disclosed TWer) and I ran into snow at ~4500' or so - so Hunter Mountain would have had plenty. Not a place to get stuck this time of year.

Speaking of which - @m3bassman, how was South Pass when you went through? All dry or some ice there?

 

Ahh, right. Well, I'm glad you got a taste of Mojave - will make it easier for me to "twist your arm" and go back down there in the future!

 

I like the sound of that!

 

Exhilaration at Hidden Dunes - Death Valley Connections #2

From the get-go, I'd known that my second day in Death Valley would be my fullest. As such, I'd done my best to set myself up for success by camping at the trailhead for my first hike of the day - though "trailhead" might be giving significantly more credit than is due.

Camped in Eureka Valley, I knew that the Last Chance Range would block any sort of early-morning sunrise, but that didn't mean I was up any later. Rather, even as the sun was still behind the mountains, I was up and prepping for my first hike - eating a cold breakfast in the 31°F morning air, making a lunch of PB&J, chips and an apple, and getting my camera gear ready to go.

Today, I was headed to the Hidden Dunes. Some 10 miles round-trip, they are, you know, right over... there.

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Now, normally part of the morning routine is to break down the tent, but today I hesitated to do so. See, the cold temps meant that a bit of frost had formed - primarily on the rain fly - and I didn't really want to seal that up under the rubber cover for much of the day. I contemplated my usual "drying/wiping off" of everything with a towel, or just waiting an hour for the sun to get high enough to evaporate the moisture, but eventually I realized that having the tent setup would provide some convenient shade for the fridge. So, after hemming and hawing around for 15 minutes, in the end I decided to just leave everything as it was and set off across the desert.

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I have found that there are three or four different types of typical desert hikes. There are of course guided hikes, where you're following a well-trodden path, perhaps even with signs along a route that someone else has deemed interesting for one reason or another. There are hikes to mines or historical sites - often along an old road that may or may not still be suitable for certain types of vehicles. There are of course canyon/wash hikes where only a single obvious route exists, the taller the walls and narrower the wash, the more thrilling the adventure. And then there are pathless hikes across the desert.

While I'm far from the most seasoned desert explorer, this last type of hike is - at least these days - my favorite of the desert hikes. Picking a landmark in the distance and setting off trail-less seems not only freeing, but also virtually ensures a unique experience unlike any who've come before or will come after.

Today was no exception. Walking on and on across the desert floor, I traveled more than a mile before gaining any elevation at all. Even then, the fan leading up to the gap in the Saline Range through which I'd find the Hidden Dunes had such a gradual incline that it seemed nearly flat. There was plenty, however, to keep me engaged. Lizards - warming themselves in the morning sun - scurried out of my way; rocks - once covered in sand that had long since been blown away - aligned in a perfectly undisturbed mosaic. And then - a tent!

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It turns out that I'd talk to the residents of this tent on my return trip, but I was understandably surprised to see it out here in the middle of nowhere! That of course was just what they were after - nowhere - and they'd successfully enjoyed their solitude for three days before I happened by.

Shortly after passing the tent - as I made my way toward the sand spilling through my landmark gap - a familiar rumble. I wasn't sure when I heard it whether it was Air Force or Navy, but someone was out flying this morning. For the second time in less than 10 minutes, I was surprised as - right through the gap I was headed towards - an F-18 jet came roaring through, just a few hundred feet off the ground! I struggled to get my camera - clipped to my belt, and the lens locked to prevent jiggling - up and ready to shoot.

In the end, the belt clip wouldn't release and I ended up literally shooting from the hip to try to capture the moment, as the pilots swooped down to the eastern edge of the valley floor before turning south towards the Eureka Dunes.

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I could only hope that there would be more as I neared the gap and the Hidden Dunes finally shown themselves in the adjacent valley!

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It was here that I had a decision to make. My destination - naturally - was the highest dune. Option 1 was to head out into the dune field and make my way along the serpentine ridges until I achieved my goal. Option 2 was to skirt along the side of the dunes - ideally with better footing than the loose sand - and then cut out onto the dunes once I neared the top.

Not one to shy from a challenge, I opted for option 1 - initially - and set out up the first dune.

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This decision couldn't have been more perfect, as within the first few minutes I was rewarded with a loud rumble. This time, I was prepared and my camera was clicking away as a second F-18 streaked almost directly overhead.

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Within a few minutes of being buzzed, I realized that my "perfect" decision was quite clearly the exact opposite of perfect. Not only was I ruining the footprint-less dunes, but as they got steeper, I'd slip one step back for every two steps forward. Something needed to change - so I retraced my steps and opted for a variant of option 2: skirting the lower dunes on more firm footing, and then suffering through the sand only for the second half.

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Still, that meant that I had a little over 1.5 miles of sand hiking, with a little over 2000 feet of elevation gain from the gap in the Saline Range. This makes the Hidden Dunes significantly higher than the much more famous Eureka Dunes, though because they are stacked on an alluvial fan, the actual sand depth of any given dune is shallower.

The views are nothing short of spectacular, and are only enhanced by the peaceful remoteness of the space. They surely make the strenuous trek to the top worthwhile.

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It was only 10:30am when I reach the apex of my morning excursion but I can tell you with no uncertainty that I was ready for lunch. I was also ready to find some shade - having worked up quite a sweat out in the sun, and having forgotten to bring sunscreen along on this trip. As such, my first order of business was to find - or rather manufacture - the shadiest spot that I could. I found several of last years fast-growing tumbleweeds and gathered them up into a clump that would provide a bit more shade than just a single sparse plant. And then, I plopped myself down and enjoyed every last bite as I surveyed the dune field below.

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Lunch complete, I enjoyed the shade for a few minutes longer and then began my hike-slide down the dunes and towards the gap through which I'd come. Downhill being much easier than up, I opted for the walk-the-ridge approach and had a great time in the process.

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The hiking easier, I found myself wondering if the Air Force was done for the day or if I might see one more jet before everything was said and done. As if on cue, I heard a rumble behind. Now much higher than I'd been previously, the next plane to fly by - and F-15 this time(!) - was only a few feet above my current position as it streaked next to the dunes and then over the gap.

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I was like a kid in a candy story. I'm sure the grin on my face has scarcely been larger, and I found myself wondering where his partner was. I mean - I've seen the movies. Where's the wingman?!

I didn't have to wait long before that question was authoritatively answered: the wingman was even lower in elevation, and on an intercept course with my position on the dunes. Perhaps notified of my presence by his partner and using me for targeting?

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I continued for a few more minutes, the undulating of the dunes, and shadows created by the wind-swept ridges mesmerizing. Beetle tracks, my footprints, and the wandering of a coyote the only sign of animal life evident around me.

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And then, a final fly-by. Just a single jet this time, and lower than all the rest - by quite a margin. He came tearing through the southern end of the valley as he banked towards the dunes, the exhaust obscuring the Inyo mountains behind the plane. Perhaps only 60-75 feet above the top of the dunes, the ground shook as he gained altitude in order to pass overhead and then through the gap.

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My excitement boiled over, and I let out an audible, "Hell ya!" as the roar faded in the distance. It was an experience that I'm sure others - though not many - have had, but being that close to one of these powerful machines in flight was a first for me, and one that will take a while to forget!

The morning's excitement over, I made quick work of the descent down the dunes and back into Eureka Valley. Without even knowing it, I'd timed the hike perfectly - no more F-15's flew through the valley for the rest of the day, though as I was arriving back at camp, I did hear a series of "thoomp-thoomp" booms in the distance - a sound I associate with mortar launches or detonation shock waves. It had to have been in another canyon however, because the area around us was otherwise peaceful.

A couple hours after I started back down, I neared camp, the truck barely visible in the distance almost the entire time.

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Here and there I found my morning footprints in the desert as I made the trek back, but I'm sure it won't be long until the wind erases any trace of my visit to this special place.

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It was just before 1:00pm when I arrived back at the truck, and I had a decision to make: the day's plan called for another ~8.5 mile loop hike high into the Last Chance Mountains, but I wasn't sure I'd have enough time before the sun went down. My options - perhaps obviously - were to try for the full hike, skip it altogether, or cut the hike in half by making it an out-and-back rather than a loop.

Ultimately I knew there was no way I'd be happy with myself if I skipped it altogether, and I realized that I could defer the decision of loop vs. out-and-back until I reached the turnaround point, so I stowed the now-dry tent and jumped in the truck for my 2 mile drive to the next "trailhead."

But that my friends, will have to wait for next time.

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Great shots! If there is one thing I miss about my previous job, it's those planes flying by my office window. Especially when they are done with the early test flights and shoot straight up. Surprising how much bigger and louder the F-15 is than the F-18. It never got old, but looks like you got a better show than I ever did.

I was driving north from El Paso on 54 once, and a chopper buzzed over me from behind. It was mid-day and I saw the shadow come over me before I heard it, and I was like, WTF? Then the sound hit me and I about had to stop and change pants.

I think the most surprising time was in SW Colorado on a short hike to South Clear Creek Falls. Two A-10's came flying over the ridge from behind the falls, super low, and dropped down into the Rio Grande valley. They must have been from a National Guard unit or something. I love the F-15 and F-18, but the A-10 has always been a favorite.

Guy 1: "Hey, look at this bad-ass gatling gun I built! What should we do with it?"
Guy 2: "Let's put wings on it! And some jet engines!"

Sorry, got that little kid giddiness again seeing those shots.

 

We had a F-117A stealth fighter fly right over our building while landing at Nellis years ago. Could not have been more that 200' to 300' off the ground and probably close to stall speed it was going so slow. It was so loud it shook parts off of the shelves and set off every car alarm for blocks.

 

Thanks you two. As I noted, I was super jazzed to have them fly overhead when it happened!

Sounds awesome. I want some!

Badass.

Thanks! Photo setup was my normal setup, and this was the 18-135 USM lens @ 65mm f/8 1/800.