AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

excellent location. i applaud the tent inhabitants for staying put over several days. i'm too eager to move on.

 

Up and Down - Death Valley Connections #3

Previously, you may recall...

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."

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I didn't make it far - less than a mile - before running into something I see all too often out in the desert. In fact, I think I've retrieved at least one of these from Death Valley, the Mojave Preserve, and Anza-Borrego every time I've visited. This trip, I ended up with three.

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Celebratory trash blown into the desert.​

Mylar birthday balloon stowed where it belongs - in the Trasharoo - I popped back in the truck for the final approach to my next "trailhead." My lengthy excursion :: had covered the entire length of Dry Well Road, where I parked just before the intersection with Eureka Valley Road and set off up the alluvial fan into the Last Chance Mountains.

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My loop would take me along an old abandoned mining road high into the Last Chance Range. Along my way, I'd pass through the narrows of a wash and badlands of black shale. I'd find the Last Chance Mine and it's surreal mercury retorts - some of the most interesting mining remains in the valley - and then, I'd skirt along a high ridge past two other mercury mines with breathtaking views of Eureka Valley.

At least, that was the promise made by Hiking Western Death Valley National Park, and it sure caught my attention and piqued my curiosity.

Unlike my leisurely pace in the morning, the fact that I had only four hours of daylight pushed my pace faster in the afternoon, and I made good time up the much steeper fan on the east side of the valley. The truck - standing guard at the trailhead - shrank quickly in the distance, the landscape behind it somehow familiar.

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While there had been no road or path up the alluvial fan, as I approached the first knoll, an old gate still stood guard over what had been a mining road as late as the 1970s when the mines in this area were last worked. Fifty years later, wind and water have taken their toll, even the gate itself starting to be covered in gravel flowing down the wash.

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Today, the gate serves not as a barrier to the mines in this area, but rather as the entrance into a stunning hillside of badlands. Nearly black in color at their base, they are framed by striking reds, oranges, whites, and greens further up the mountainside - the colors drawing me in to explore and reminiscent of Artist Pallet, though with significantly fewer people.

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Here, the old mining road fades in and out along the wash, but I pushed my pace regardless of the terrain. Steep in places, it was amazing to think that whoever worked this land would have driven a vehicle along this route - but those were different times, when safety was usually a distant third in the rush to riches. Along the way I encountered a few old relics from days past - an old tank, laying on its side in the wash; some rusty lengths of double-walled pipe, their purpose unknown near the top of the blackened badlands.

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Eventually, I gained enough elevation - perhaps 1200 feet by this point - that the road remained mostly intact - erosion lessened simply due to the smaller volume of water to which it was subjected. Here, still some 300 feet below the Up and Down Mine, I got my first real glimpse into the types of views that were in store for me at higher elevations. Stunning.

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And, in the distance on the hillside - one of the Up and Down Mine's old mercury retorts stood watch.

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No longer picking my way up an eroded wash, my speed increased even more and when I arrived at the "twin" cabins of the Up and Down Mine, I was happy to see that only an hour had passed since I'd embarked on this adventure. Unfortunately, the cabins weren't in as great a shape as my hike times, the western most cabin having collapsed in the last several years.

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The main cabin too has seen better days, though it's shelves still hold several different seasonings and salt, a pack of crackers, cooking oil, and several cans of food. These things, along with a visitor log are protected from the onslaught of rodents by a screened shelf held tightly shut with several wraps of bailing wire. Oh, and if you're interested in your own little piece of solitude, the cabin may be for sale.

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From the cabins, it was another few hundred yards up to the two mercury retorts that were used to separate mercury (also called quicksilver) from the ore in which it was mined and then condense it into pure material for sale to the highest bidder. These retorts were built from all manor of scrap steel - their pieces welded together by a miner who must have been part welder and part inventor, the struggle to make a living here in the desert, evident in his masterpieces.

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The larger retort, likely more recently in operation.​

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A smaller retort, now standing guard on the edge of a bench overlooking the road and valley.​

I could have spent hours exploring this area - poking around the various scrap piles, investigating the diggings and shafts that littered the hillsides - but I limited myself to some 15 minutes or so - knowing that I needed to make a decision: was I to continue on the remainder of the loop, or head back down the way I'd come?

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It should come as no surprise that I ultimately decided to attempt the remainder of the loop. I wondered in fact if my decision would get me back to the truck sooner - due to what I hoped was a better road - than if I tried to pick my way down the steep wash. Plus, I figured that even if I returned to the truck in the dark, it would be easy to find along Eureka Valley Road and so getting lost wasn't a problem I need concern myself with. And so, I continued to climb the final 700 vertical feet to along the high road, splendid views of Eureka Valley now impossible to avoid.

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Save for the views, the high road was mostly uneventful. Along it's length, I stumbled upon a few mining relics, none of them that interesting save for one. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at when I found it, so see if you can guess what it is.

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Nom, nom, nom.​

I made quick work of the mile-long high road, and as it started to drop back down toward Eureka Valley, I decided that I'd make a short detour to the Mercury Knob Prospect. My description of the road promised that two cabins were situated just around a bend some 250 yards from the fork, but that same description failed to mention that it was also some 500 feet of elevation change in the process! Alas, my problem is that I constantly remind myself that, "I'm here so I might as well do it now," and so I headed down to see the condition of the cabins and old diggings.

The condition wasn't great, and quite frankly probably wasn't worth my time - but at least there's now no need to wonder and perhaps return just to discover the same fact at a later time.

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From the Mercury Knob Prospect, I climbed back to the main road and continued south - the April Fool Prospect almost immediately visible as a gash cut into the mountain side.

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Heavy machinery and blasting were likely used for this operation, but in all the destruction, there is relatively little cinnabar - mercury-rich material - perhaps an indication that its name was a bit of a reflection of its production levels.

Still, there were remains to explore, and I spent a few minutes wandering the roads that made up the prospect. An old loading platform and discarded mining equipment are scattered down the hillside and along the road, the stories of their abandonment lost to time.

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From the April Fool Prospect, the road dropped steeply into another wash - so steeply in fact that parts of the descent required a jog in order to not lose my footing on the loose gravel. Soon the wash constricts into angular narrows, the sharp overhanging rocks crumbling as time takes its toll.

This was a place worth slowing down, and I did - remembering what Ken @DVexile had mentioned on our hike through Fall Canyon - that the nice thing about canyon hikes was that the view was different, even on an out-and-back excursion. I purposefully turned around several times in order to enjoy both the uphill and downhill views as I made my way forward.

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And then - a mere half mile later - I popped out of the narrows an onto an alluvial fan that would take me to Eureka Valley Road some 1.5 miles south of my starting point. There was a road here that I could follow, though I quickly realized it was easier to walk next to the road rather than on it as the road itself was littered with football-sized rocks that were difficult to navigate.

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Hard to make out in the photo unless you're looking for them, I realized that camouflage is exactly what makes this solution to closing a road so ingenious - to a passerby, the road looks "normal," since there are rocks everywhere in the desert, and these look just like any other. But, to a traveler on the road - and even more so to a traveler with a vehicle, these make navigating the road and extremely slow and difficult endeavor. "Genius!" I say.

I'd reached Eureka Valley Road mere minutes after the sun fell below the Inyo's to the west, but before it fully set below the horizon. With clouds in the sky, I hoped that my 1.5 mile return along Eureka Valley Road might not be quite so boring as I'd original envisioned.

And in fact, it was not. Starting as a deep orange, the color danced along the bottom of the clouds and reflected down onto the desert around me. Eventually, as the rays of the sun got longer and longer, that orange turned to pink, and then ultimately purple just as I reached the truck.

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It was without a doubt a brilliant way to cap what had been an extremely successful day of exploration and discovery. With nearly 20 miles of trails and 4000 feet of elevation gain, I was ready for a rest and some dinner.

I'd considered camping once again at the end of the Dry Well road, but my strategy of camping near my starting point for the day stuck with me and I decided I'd head northwest towards tomorrow's jumping off point at the base of an eastern spur of the Inyo mountains.

My hope was that I wouldn't be exploring these mountains alone, and I went to bed with the APRS beaconing, optimistic that I'd find another truck parked near mine when I awoke in the morning.

Love Death Valley and want to see more adventures there?
Check out the Death Valley Index​

 

Full Circle - Death Valley Connections #4

It had been 9:00pm or so by the time I'd finally climbed up into the tent to head to bed, and I'd hoped that my second connection of the trip would show up as I slept - the plan, to spend the following day (this one you're reading) together exploring a few interesting areas around Eureka Valley.

Hoping to make that connection easier, I'd left my APRS on in the truck, and I'd also left a couple paper plates attached to creosote bushes along the road in hopes that they'd be spotted by the amazingly bright lights that I knew this fellow explorer would be utilizing during a late-night arrival.

Around 10:30pm, I was awoken by the sound of a reving 3.4L V6 making itself known along Death Valley Road. As I glanced out the tent door, I knew the plates had been missed, and I quickly flashed my flashlight at the passing truck. Nothing!

A quick call on the Ham radio alerted my companions to my presence, and they quickly turned around and pulled into camp - two or three hours earlier than I'd expected them to arrive. Quick handshakes and hugs were shared, but we left the majority of our greetings for the morning - for now, we were all tired and climbed into bed.

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Over breakfast the next morning, Ben @m3bassman mentioned that he had seen the plates (which Kirsten hadn't), but associated them with "backwoods Idaho hillbillies" - of which he didn't know I was one - so just kept going!

We chatted for a good hour as the morning sun warmed our bones and then decided we had better get moving - we had a full day of exploration along and eastern arm of the Inyo Mountains, where we hoped to see a series of talc mines and overlooks as we travelled some of the parks roughest and least-traveled trails.

Our first series of mines would be the Victor Mines - three of which were perched at various points along the the hillside on the Eureka Valley side of the range. As we started out of camp, I was in the lead - eventually pulling out a good distance ahead of Ben and Kirsten, prompting a, "You feeling OK this morning?" from Ben, who is used to my traditionally slow pace!

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Ultimately we made our way through several rough patches and washes to the Victor No. 1 mine - the road clearly one that hadn't seen vehicular traffic for quite some time.

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As we reached a small platform at the end, a well-hidden mine shaft opening with a door that'd seen better days, popped into view. We made our way in 50 feet or so - flashlights in hand - before deciding we'd had enough and heading back to the relative safety of the entrance.

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A little further on, some old ruins - perhaps a loading platform - sat below another, seemingly more secure tunnel and we couldn't help but enter this one to explore as well.

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The ceilings here were significantly taller than the first shaft, and the entire thing had been carved into hard stone rather than the gravels of an alluvial fan - so we were a bit bolder in our exploration. At one point this shaft opened into a large room from which several shafts split in various directions, and then we reach the end of the primary dig - some hundred feet or so inside the mountain.

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Back on the road, our next planned stops were the Victor Consolidated Mine and Victor No. 8. The roads to these workings were in even worse shape, and less than half way to each of them, we were stopped by complete disappearance of the access roads!

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Bummed - since we could see the workings on the hillside, but knew we didn't have time in the day to add two longish hikes - we tucked tail and moved on, as I made a note to return on a future trip for a full investigation.

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Now, the reason we'd started with these three Victor Mines was that they were on the north end of a loop that would take us around to the Harlis and Broady Mine on a road that we'd heard was itself a big part of the adventure. To save time, we decided that we'd backtrack a bit and make our way into the mine from the south - so we headed back to Death Valley road, losing the trail only once along the way and having to improvise a bit.

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This rock looks small here, but caused some contemplation on Ben's part as he navigated its sharp edges.

Once we reached the entrance to the Harlis and Broady Mine Road, we knew that we were going to be lucky to reach the mine. Already at 5515 feet and with snow on the road, we still had several hundred feet to climb before reaching a ridge that led to the mine.

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Hopeful, we set off. Before long, we discovered a very cool GMC pickup that had been sitting in this wash for several decades at least. While many of the parts were missing - perhaps borrowed for working equipment or looted by visitors over the years - its body was in amazingly good shape, and we enjoyed ourselves as we poked around the remains.

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I think I see the problem here. The engine is missing.​

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Unfortunately, it wasn't much further up the road before we were stopped in our tracks. Having gotten out to walk due to deepening snow, it turned out that while we likely could have navigated the crunch white stuff, there was what looked like a 700-800 lbs boulder a little further on that would have been interesting for Ben and I to move. Not knowing what remained beyond that, we opted to turn back and move on - now a mere 1-for-4 on our mine attempts for the morning! At least the views of North Eureka Valley here were reasonably great.

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Part of the reason we'd been so quick to move on was that our next destination - yes, another talc mine, on another crazy road - was slated to be one of the best. Called the *************** Mine, its elevation was even higher in the Inyos but all we could do was hope that the nature had been nicer to the road than our previous attempts. And with that, we started up.

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As we ascended, I quickly realized that the road conditions were similar - if not slightly worse - to the conditions we'd experienced on the Harlis and Broady Mine Road. I called back to Ben and Kirsten over the CB that they should wait at a good spot to turn around while I pushed forward, so that we wouldn't both have to back down the narrow, snowy, shelf road if I ran into another impassable section.

It was a good thing, too, because there were several rock-falls on this road as well - some of them quite large.

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Luckily, in each case, I was able to roll, push, and slide the rocks just far enough out of the way in order to squeeze a narrow, 1st gen Tacoma through - though not without a bit of slider use in a couple situations - and up towards our final destination.

Each time, as I'd find another turnaround spot, I'd call Ben forward, the steep mountains limiting the distances that even our ham radios would communicate. The entire road was only 1.7 miles long, but it took us nearly 45 minutes to make it to the end - parts of the drive a white-knuckle experience, at least for me.

The view however - at the mine camp - was incredible.

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Nearly all of Eureka Valley unfolded before us. Everything I'd explored the last few days lay down there, seemingly so easy to achieve - and yet, I knew that vast distances meant they were seldom visited by more than a few. As I waited for my companions to crest the ridge, I soaked in the grand peacefulness of it all, as best I could.

Soon enough, we were all back together again and we set about exploring the mine camp and one of the diggings of the *************** Mine. A windy spot here on the ridge, the camp itself has been unable to withstand the passing of time and is mostly just a pile of rubble.

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Exposed to decades of freeze-thaw cycles, these nails have been pushed out of the floorboards into which they were originally pounded.

Even more interesting than the mine camp however, was a road that led down the west side of the ridge at a very steep grade. Perhaps once passable by a 4WD vehicle, none of our group wanted to attempt it - for fear that we'd not be able to get back up - but that didn't stop us from hiking down to see the treasures that it held.

Boy, did it hold some beauties. The highlight was a large headframe and loading structure - still reasonably intact - protected from the weather well below the ridge. We spent a good bit of time exploring this structure, along with the cabin that housed the motor that powered the entire thing, it was so interesting.

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A second mine shaft cut into the mountain as well, and a small dump road allowed the workers to easily dispose of tailings down the 2000 foot ravine.

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Eventually we decided it was time to get going - our lunches waiting for us high above at our trucks, and a full afternoon of adventure still to come - so we pushed our legs up the steep, loose-shale incline, glad we hadn't ventured down with the trucks.

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Lunch was a pleasant affair, spent chatting in the shade of our trucks about everything under the sun. It'd been quite some time since I'd been on a trip with Kirsten, and even Ben I hadn't seen since our trip to the Alvord Playa to look for Jessi Combs last tracks, so it was nice to catch up before heading back down the mountain and across the northern end of Eureka Valley.

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We had one more hike planned for the day, and it was one that I'd been looking forward to since @mrs.turbodb and I were here a few months earlier, Searching for Overlooks. We'd been in a bit of a rush a the time, wanting to scale Eureka Dunes before night fall, so when we'd arrived at Lead Peak, we'd decided we'd skip the steep hike down to the Rebecca No. 2 mine.

Today though was going to be different. As we drove along the ridge, and ultimately found ourselves a nice overlook of the dunes, I hoped the cabin at the bottom - reportedly in great shape - would be worth the effort.

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I can say without a doubt that the "road" - which really only about 15% of the hike could be classified as such - was definitely steeper than the one we'd traversed just a few hours earlier on the other side of the valley. A huge landslide had destroyed the majority of it, and so we did our best to pick our way down a 40° slope to the waypoint I'd marked on my phone for the Rebecca No. 2 mine.

Already wondering about our climb back up as we reached the mine, the good news was that it was right where we expected. The bad news was that it wasn't in the condition we were hoping to find it. Clearly, this cabin and mining claim were occupied later than some of the others I've visited in the park, but it was far from one of the "nicer" cabins by today's standard.

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The exterior plywood has seen better days, and the inside could definitely use a thorough cleaning - rat and bird droppings covering almost every surface.

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We found the cabin log and made a quick entry before starting back up the 1000 feet or so of mountainside that we needed to traverse in the half-mile to our trucks. It was a grueling hike, a good indicator as to why the cabin gets fewer than two visitors each year - the one prior to us being in March 2019.

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Picking our way up the rocky slopes, we made steady progress back up to the trucks. I wanted to check out one more thing before we left - the view from the top of Lead Peak - so we all hiked the short trail to the peak and looked out over the valley we'd been high above for most of the day. It's striking to me how different the same place can look from different angles, and under different light. It's comforting really - because it means that even visiting the same place twice and often lead to quite different experiences.

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From Lead Peak, we knew it was time to find camp. The sun was getting close to the horizon and we'd had a long day even though we hadn't traveled all that many miles. But, before we headed back down into Eureka Valley where it was a bit warmer than up here in the mountains, we had one more stop to make - at Crater.

An old sulfur mine, Crater is the location of a small ghost town and what I would characterize as Death Valley's most interesting sulfur mine ruins. The landscape here is bleak - the powdery white ground, the result of heavy machinery pulverizing the already dusty talc and salts in the area as they extracted the sulfur from the ore.

In the middle of the mine site, machinery from the most recent refinery sits dormant and rusting - one of the few sulfur retort ruins in the American West. The retort itself has collapsed over the years and is laying on its side, but in its heyday it was loaded with sulfur ore and high pressure steam was injected into it. The steam would melt the sulfur, liquifying it and allowing it to be separated from other rocks. This molten sulfur would be drawn off through an opening at the bottom of the retort and refined sulfur ore can still be found around the old machinery.

Next to the retort, a tumbler still stands tall, its goal to crush the sulfur ore prior to steaming it in the retort, to allow as much sulfur as possible to be melted via the steam injection.

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As with many sulfur mines, Crater's end came when a fire broke out. Sulfur dust - an ingredient in gun powder - being highly flammable, this was the fate of many sulfur mines of the day.

Our final stop was at the old three-compartment oven of the Gulch sulfur mine. Used in the 1930s, it is not often that this type of mining equipment stands in such good condition, and of the sulfur history in the area, I find it the most interesting.

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With that - and the final rays of light - we high-tailed it back into the valley and found a spot - familiar to me from two nights prior - to camp, at the end of Dry Well Road. It was a good spot for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that we'd be parting ways the next morning. As my trip had started when Ken @DVexile's was ending, so my trip was ending just and Ben and Kirsten's was starting. I was headed north towards home, they south through Death Valley, the Mojave Preserve, Joshua Tree, and ultimately to Johnson Valley and the King of Hammers. For me, it was interesting to realize how the trip had been a full circle of both new and old connections!

We all enjoyed dinner as we chatted around a Coleman lantern that served as our campfire, talk of the day we'd had together and what was to come for each of us over the course of the year. It was still early by our standards when we all climbed into our respective tents, but none of us were complaining - we'd had a full day and were ready for some sleep!

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Love Death Valley and want to see more adventures there?
You'll love the Death Valley Index.​

 

Wonderful views to be sure. Thanks for moving some rocks. It would be nice to check out some of these spots as I already had a few saved on my maps.

 

Great report as always! I remember doing the road to the *************** Mine about a decade ago in an even smaller 1992 Toyota Pickup and it was pretty hair-raising back then. Doesn't look like time has improved it. I remember the view being awesome but as I crept back down the road telling myself I'd never do that road again!

 

Maybe it's time to see if it is more comfortable in Diet-taco?

 

Another great right up for another great trip! I feel like you and @m3bassman go to Death Valley more than I go to the Smith's Grocery store down the street lol. I love it!

 

I'm pretty sure it would feel a lot worse for me! Wider wheelbase and more top heavy with the Flip-Pac compared to my old '92. Yikes!

I think if I visit again it will be a nice hike instead - only about 600 ft of elevation and less than two miles.

 

You will enjoy them. Probably nice even into early summer (and in late summer) due to the higher elevation on that side of the valley. Plus, plenty of afternoon shade in the area to explore the mine buildings.

LOL, I know the feeling. When planning the trip, I'd considered driving from the ******** mine to the nearby ghost town down what looked like a "passable" road via imagery. However, when we arrived, both Ben and I remarked how there was NO WAY we were attempting that road - esp. giving the conditions of the much-less-steep road we'd just endured.

, good ole' TW - always pushing "the other guy" to "give it a shot."

Thanks! It's the third time in the Mojave for me since November and it's been GREAT. I keep remarking to folks that I talk to and tell the story to in person that it's amazing how a place like that really gets into your blood. On my first trip to Death Valley, I tried to "hit everything" since it was so far away. Of course, we didn't have time for "a couple last things," so the second trip I decided would "be my last, because I'd hit those AND revisit my favorite place."

Well, that didn't work out - I just wanted more. So we kept going. And the area we explore on a given trip just keeps shrinking. In November, we limited ourselves to Eureka and Saline Valleys. This last trip I was within a 10 square mile area for 3 days and I still need to go back to that same square for another 3-4 days I'd say, just to feel like I've done it justice.

Good thing the park is so small.

It would be a pleasant hike as well, and you could come up through the ghost town if you wanted a bit more to do "along the way." The roads are pretty narrow (even with the rocks I shifted to get our 1st gens through) for a 2nd gen right now, though if the rocks were moved further, I think it wouldn't be an issue.

The Victor mines on the other hand - those are where hiking is now the only option. And I bet the views there are incredible!

 

Nice! Look forward to seeing those trips, love me some Moab.

 

@turbodb Seriously, it's amazing how deep you dive into the Mojave. I need a favorite go-to place. I have a lot to choose from here in Utah!

 

Sorry to jump in two weeks late on this conversation, but I just got around to processing the rest of my pictures from my trip earlier this month. And am now catching up on my thread stalking.

As of the 15th, Hunter Mountain was snowy but easily passable, and appeared well traveled. This is assuming you are in a 4x4 with good tires, and personally, I chose to carry chains and a shovel since I was also driving solo. However, there were several sections that were a bit muddy, especially the long puddle up top. Just a few sections though. I tiptoed through, trying my best not to worsen the ruts, and never had trouble with traction. I met a 2WD crossover that had wisely turned back at the first snowy patch, a party of Jeeps at one of the side trails, and believe it or not, I met some folks right at that big puddle who were doing it on mountain bikes.

That said, I would also recommend Lippincott over Hunter just because it's absolutely spectacular, not muddy at all, is is a much quicker way to access the racetrack if you want to do Saline Valley anyway.

There were small patches of snow and ice here and there on South Pass, especially on the north side, but nothing to worry about so long as you remember to slow down before careening onto the icy stuff.

I came in from Cerro Gordo; that descent was very snowy and would be sketchy going uphill. But on the other hand, no mud, so no worrying about damaging the trail.

Here are typical views on Hunter:

 

Thanks for the update! I'm heading out tomorrow AM, planning for 6 days but we'll see how everything goes.. Looks easily doable, I'm on 35"s, 4x4, Lockers F/R, winch, sand ladders, and shovel just in case. Hope to cross paths with some good folks.

A rain (snow?) storm did roll through on the 22nd, not sure if left anything behind after you're trip? But a week has passed since then.

Would be great to maybe go up Lippencott and back down via Hunter Mountain? All new vs backtracking back down Lippencott after the Racetrack and Teakettle.

 

A Front Diff Drain Plug that Doesn't Suck

Anyone who owns a 4WD Toyota and has dealt with the drain and fill plugs on the IFS front diff knows that they generally suck. They use either a 10mm or 12mm hex key, and that can be a problem for many reasons:

1. The recess that the key fits into can easily get filled up with crud.
2. If the recess isn't cleaned and the hex key doesn't fully seat, it's easy to round over.
3. Hex key's aren't generally all that long, so it's hard to get the leverage needed to loosen the plugs.
4. The plugs can get extremely tight, making it hard to loosen with a hex key.

There are ways around some of these shortcomings of course - you can fully clean out the recess, you can use a hammer to rap on the drain plug a few times before removing it, and you can try using a hex impact socket. But in all those cases, we're really just working around something that could be better anyway.

I don't know why Toyota did this to us all, but some number of years ago, they realized how terrible it was. And so they made new plugs that had traditional 14mm hex bolt heads. All was going to be right in the world, once again. Except that they decided they'd limit these new plugs to Lexus vehicles, continuing to install the hex key-style on Toyotas.

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Luckily for us Toyota owners, the Lexus plugs fit our differentials as well. And today, I'm making my life just a little less painful by switching out the drain plug for the front diff - since I'm changing the oil anyway. The process is easy.

1. Loosen the fill plug at the top-front of the front diff. Always loosen the fill plug first, to make sure you'll be able to refill the diff after you drain it.
2. Loosen and remove the drain plug at the left (driver)-side-bottom of the front diff. Drain the oil into a catch can.
3. Throw the horrible drain plug in some bin somewhere.
4. Replace the crush washers on both the fill and drain plugs with with new crush washers.
5. Replace the drain plug with the Lexus OEM version (90341-24016).
6. Refill the diff with some new diff oil (I like Lucas 80W-90). Buy it by the gallon to save a few bucks.
7. Reinstall the fill plug.

That's it. Your future self will thank you.

Update: April 2021

Well, I finally found the Lexus equivalent for the fill plug as well. It uses a 14mm head, and like the drain plug, eliminates the risk of rounding out the hole. Pick up your own here: Lexus Front Diff Fill Plug (90341-18060)

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Thank you!

 

Not sure this will work for everyone but my drain plug was stuck tight as shit and a Toyota tech told me to tap it with a hammer a few times before trying again to loosen it.

I did as was instructed and it loosened it right up.

Regardless, thank you for the info!!

 

I'm going to be lazy and not look it up. I assume this part number works across all generations?

 

You are welcome, my pleasure!

Yeah, and actually, this tip (along with cleaning out the recess) has always worked really well for me. I'll still probably tap on the new plug to try and loosen it before removal. I think I'll still be much more comfortable with the 14mm.

I'm going to follow your lead on the lazy bit. I don't actually know. My guess is that it does work with all generations. Would love confirmation of that though, if someone knows for sure.

 

According to partsgeek.com, it fits all gens: https://www.partsgeek.com/gbproduct...SUN-aAdXgpgG1Waj63BXE9kv6TwH3TEBoCHhMQAvD_BwE

 

Looks like a tooth from a steam shovel bucket, dragline bucket or a front end loader. Always wanted to hike that area in the valley. Looks like another trip to add to the list...
Great write up