AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

This is the line of sight elevation profile when Mike was at ~50 miles. Me on the left most point (camp), Mike at the right most point (coming out of the mountains).



And here's the profile when I first heard him at ~35 miles (but he still couldn't hear me). Same left (me), right (Mike).



With profiles like this (clearly not line of sight, I was "behind" two ridges from Mike's position), I'm not surprised with our experience. I do find it interesting that I could hear Mike so further out than he could hear me, but only slightly given that my setup seems to receive really well (which is just luck, not skill IMO).

 

Makes sense looking at that you could hear but he couldn't given how the antennas likely radiate the signal. Vs trying to go down and through a mountain not gonna do it.

 

Nice pictures, very clear. What camera do you use?

 

Canon 80D. If you're interested, here's my post on how I shoot.

https://adventuretaco.com/if-you-take-enough-photos-some-are-bound-to-be-decent/

 

Been reading your posts for a couple months now and I really appreciate the way you do it. No fluff or Instagram influencer feel- just good stories of adventure.

 

Thanks man; for me, it's really about getting out there an enjoying the trip, and I always appreciate getting ideas from other people's stories... so I'm glad you're able to enjoy my stories!

 

One, Two, Three Strikes We're Out - Owyhee Redux #1

We'd just been to the Owyhee area, but when the opportunity presented itself to get together with Mike @Digiratus, Zane @Speedytech7, Ben @m3bassman and Kirsten for Memorial Day, we knew we had to go back - the lure of getting together to enjoy the outdoors with friends, greater than the desire to explore somewhere new.

Plus, even though we were in the same general area, we were able to come up with an itinerary that wouldn't exactly repeat what we'd done just a few weeks before. That is, if all went according to plan.

Like all trips, this one wouldn't go exactly as planned, but as usual I'm skipping too far ahead.

It was Wednesday evening around 6:00pm when we arrived at Snively Hot Springs - a place we'd visted a over year earlier, but one that we figured would be a nice way to ease in to the trip. Unfortunately, eight or so other folks had the same idea about taking a soak on this drizzly evening - and in these days of social distancing we decided that hanging out in close proximity to eight complete strangers was probably not the best of ideas - so we continued upriver on without stopping.

​

​

Our next destination wasn't far at this point - the Lake Owyhee Dam, and it's overflow siphon. On our last trip to the area, we'd wondered about the huge pipeline that snakes across the landscape here, and I'd done a bit of research on the Internet upon our return home. It was then that I discovered something I've always wanted to see, and something that's been a recurring nightmare for @mrs.turbodb - a hole in a lake that everything just disappears into!

​

Alas, even though it was still early in the season, there clearly wasn't enough water this year to completely fill the lake, the entrance to the overflow a good five feet above the water line. Someday we'll have to come back when it's in operation - because I want to see, and hear, everything disappearing into the abyss!

​

Even with the overflow out of operation, a short break in the rain allowed us to get out and explore the dam a bit. It's a tall one at 844 feet, and afforded quite the view as we looked down-river.

​

​

Soon the rain picked up again and we headed back to the Tacoma. wondering if, after our first two strikes - at Snively hot springs and the Owyhee overflow, whether our third (and final) attempt of the day would be successful: we were going to try to climb up out of the canyon and over the Owyhee Plateau to meet our fellow adventurers along Succor Creek Road.

And we were going to try to do it in the rain, with just over three inches of rain having fallen in the previous 48 hours. Surely, we were just asking for a muddy mess. Ben even warned us that he'd nearly gotten stuck on this same road around the same time the previous year, and assured us that if we weren't in camp by 10:30pm, he'd round up the locals for a rescue attempt.

First though, we enjoyed a very pleasant drive along the eastern edge of Lake Owyhee - this really is a beautiful landscape, and a constant reminder that even places that have been visited before are often worth coming back to again and again.

​

Unexpectedly - for me at least - the entire road next to the lake was paved. But, as we turned east on Fisherman Road, the dirt (mud) started and we aired down with our snazzy tire deflators before heading up with our fingers crossed.

​

​

Looking back on it now, it should have been obvious to us that this was only going to end one way - with us striking out. Frankly, I think we knew it at the time, but like any good baseball player, we pushed on, hard headed and hoping to avoid the inevitable 80-mile detour we'd be forced to take if we couldn't make it. At any rate, we made it up to the plateau with no problem at all, but there the going got disgusting.

Slipping and sliding on the muddy surface, we'd likely have pushed on if there was a second truck - a mere 7 miles separating us from our destination. Solo however, 7 miles seemed an unfathomable distance and with the trip barely underway, we knew the smart money was on turning around and tackling this route another day. A sunset over Lake Owyhee as we headed back was little consolation.

​

It was 10:00pm and dark when we pulled into camp. Rather, we pulled to the side of the road next to Ben and Kirsten who informed us that the location we'd planned to camp was such a muddy mess that they too were slipping and sliding all over the road.

An hour later, Mike and Zane showed up - happy to have arrived after a long day of travel. Greetings were warm, quick, and socially distanced, and before long we all climbed into our tents - hoping that the roads would miraculously dry up before we set out the next morning!

Right. Well, at least it wasn't raining any more... for now.

 

Great trip, looks like the Owyhee is on the list for some exploring.. beautiful country and a bit closer to boot.

 

I am very behind on my adventures of turbodb. In case no one else mentioned it, I learned this recently.



Seems like an awful lot of quarters on that headstone. I wonder if people just don't know what the coins mean or if that many people were there when he died?

 

I'm going to guess, that since quarters weren't around in the 1800s, people do it without knowing the meaning you posted. I've never heard it before myself.

 

I agree with you. In fact, when I visited that site, in '18 or so, there weren't any coins on that marker. I also have never heard of that meaning and would guess people leave coins as some acknowledgement or to help with upkeep of the site.

 

I'm guessing it's sort of like the shrines on the mojave trail that were mentioned on an earlier trip report. Just a random occurrence that people start building on, for no real reason. But....I could be totally wrong.

 

Mud to Devil's Gate, Three Finger's, & Jordan Craters - Owyhee Redux #2

By some stroke of luck, our hope - that it wouldn't rain any more after we climbed into our tents - was realized and then some. A strong breeze blew all night, not only keeping the tents free of any dew, but also helping to dry out the roads - at least a smidge.

​

This morning in camp was a reunion of sorts. For all of us obviously, since it was our first real group trip of the year (though I'd seen Ben and Kirsten in Death Valley for a single day a few months earlier) - but mainly for Ben @m3bassman and Mike @Digiratus who hadn't been on a trip together since The De-Tour in 2017!

That, combined with late arrivals and a still-very-overcast sky, meant that it was 10:45am when we finally lined up the trucks to air down and roll out of camp.

​

​

Our first stop of the day wasn't far - a few miles at most up Camp Kettle Creek Road to Devil's Gate. Representative of the landscape in the Owyhee's, what look like rolling hills and vast plains are often broken up by deep rocky canyons. This one - while short relative to some - opens up at a big dry fall that makes a great place to escape from the hot sun in the middle of summer.

Of course, that wasn't an issue today as we slipped and slid our way up the muddy road to the parking area before wandering through Devil's Gate to explore the dry fall.

​

​

Socially distanced trucks at Devil's Gate.​

​

This is where we'd planned to camp the previous night, but in hindsight, it's a good thing we didn't. There wasn't a level bit of ground here, and in the light of day we discovered - though not before the two pups, Milo and Venice ran through it - that the base of the canyon was completely covered in poison ivy!

Time to move on, we all loaded back up into the trucks and pointed ourselves south - for what turned out to be a long muddy march towards Jordan Valley (which we wouldn't actually reach until the following day).

​

It was slow going as our tires strained for traction, the usually-dusty road having turned into a slop of clay, quickly clogging our lugs and flinging up in all directions, our steering wheels seemingly useless in several sections.

​

​

​

​

It was only a bit after noon when we found a nice hillcrest that was perfect for lunch - or as perfect as we were going to find, the sparse grass doing little to keep our shoes from picking up mud in the same way as our tires. In the distance, Three Fingers Rock - our next destination - was visible, the sun and clouds battling each other in the sky above.

​

Our bellies happy - and therefore, campers happier - we set out again, now with only a couple miles to go before what I knew was going to be an interesting section of road to Three Fingers, but I'm getting slightly ahead of myself. Despite all the mud, it really is striking how beautiful Owyhee is in the spring - all of the hills covered in green grass, new life everywhere.

​

Soon enough, we'd reached our turn up to Three Fingers. This was a road @mrs.turbodb and I had discovered on our very first trip to the Owyhee Canyonlands - but as infant explorers at the time and with no sort of map, we'd failed to follow it to its terminus! Live and learn, live and learn.

Over the CB, I mentioned to Ben that this could end up being a challenging road - steeper than it looks, and possibly impassable if it was as muddy as what we'd been on so far this trip. As such, we decided that one truck at a time would make the run, each calling back down once safely at the summit. And with that, Ben was off!

​

The climb turned out to be no problem at all - the road up the hill much rockier than those that we'd travelled over the plains - and before long, Mike - running tail gunner this morning - was on his way up.

​

Three Fingers was now within easy reach as we paused for a moment to take in the nearly 360° view of our surroundings.

​

​

Having climbed up a small rocky outcropping to get a little more perspective, I was looking down on the rest of the group as I saw Ben, Zane, and @mrs.turbodb scatter away from Mike's truck. "That's strange," I thought to myself, and headed down to see what the commotion was all about.

"There's a rattle snake over there," said pretty much everyone at the same time!

Not one to ever pass up a reptile, I headed the opposite direction to the general flow of humans and eventually heard the little guy rattling away behind some brush and under a rock. Well, that wasn't going to do - there was no way to see him with all those branches in the way - so I carefully pulled back the sage brush and snapped a few shots.

​

Noisy little buddy. Doesn't want to hurt anyone.​

A few more minutes in the trucks and we arrived at Three Fingers. From here, I'd hoped that we could find our way up - to the top of at least one of the fingers - and so we set out on the half-mile-or-so roundtrip around the north side, the views expanding with every step, a small arch visible from just the right position.

​

​

​

Not as obvious at first glance, we eventually found the scramble up to the top of the first finger and waved down to Mike who'd stayed at the trucks for this one. And we found one of the largest geocaches I've every come across - as though several visitors before us all had the same idea to bring up a container full of goodies!

​

​

It was time for a quick photo, and the interval timer on the camera did a fabulous job of capturing the moment.

​

​

I will never just set a normal timer again. Interval for the win.​

Soon enough we retraced our steps back down to the trucks and continued our trek south - rejoining Succor Creek road, following it the remainder of the way to highway 95 - where we contemplated our next move.

​

​

Our loose plan at this point had been to head southeast towards Silver City - a place we'd been unable to reach due to snow on our previous trip - but with all the rain in the last couple days, we could see that the Owyhee Mountains surrounding the town were quite snowy, so decided it would be better to keep to the lower elevations one more night.

With that, we made the call to head to Coffeepot Crater - at the north end of Jordan Craters - to explore the lava flow and its numerous tubes, channels, and of course the seven cinder cones themselves.

​

​

A 27 square mile olivine basalt lava flow, most of the Jordan Craters lava field is ~3000 years old. However, an 18-acre flow within the field is thought to be less than 100 years old because not even lichens have begun to colonize it. Coffeepot Crater itself was born when mildly explosive eruptions constructed a cone from overlapping lobes of dense and fragmented material thrown from the volcano. Rising magma then occupied the volcano’s center, creating a lava pond, and eventually leaked out along a 0.7-mile fissure extending southwest from the main crater, creating a moonscape that extended 10 miles from the crater.

​

As @mrs.turbodb and I had done at the southern end of the flow, we spent a good amount of time walking out and exploring this northern end. We'd not read the sign in the parking area before setting out, and I'd wondered if we could find a spot where there was little to no vegetation, if we got far enough into the field that the wind hadn't carried organic material in from the sides. We never did, but perhaps someday we'll find those 18 acres.

​

​

​

We, of course, also spent some time walking around the crater - a very cool experience in itself. This - at least in @mrs.turbodb and my opinions - is a much more interesting place to explore than even Craters of the Moon National Monument, if only because it's a much more natural environment, with many of the same features, and exactly zero other visitors.

​

​

By the time we were done, it was nearly 5:45pm and time to find camp. Luckily for us, Mike had camped nearby on his previous trip to the region, and so we headed that direction for the remainder of the evening.

​

Of course, though the skies had been clearing all day, it wasn't long after we arrived in camp that the rain started. It didn't last long, and soon the sun was streaming in under the clouds, a bright rainbow shooting down out of the sky to the hillsides above.

​

With plenty of daylight left, we circled our chairs and started the fire - stacking wet(ter) wood around the ring to dry it out prior to its conversion to charcoal. The conversation flowed easily, as though the three year gap in getting together as a group had been mere minutes. It was fantastic. And so were the burritos with guac that we had for dinner!

​

We were in a bit of a depression on the landscape, but a little after 8:00pm I noticed a glow in the western sky. I excused myself from the conversation and made my way to the nearest knoll to enjoy what I hoped would be a dramatic sunset.

At first, it was just long, warm light on the landscape around me...

​

Lighted Lupine.​

​

But then, the magic. All the moisture in the atmosphere made for plenty of particles to reflect the light, and a purplish hue spread across the land. Rain showers in the distance glowing under the clouds.

​

​

​

Happy to have made the short trek away from camp, I wandered back, equally happy to spend more time around the camp fire with friends. We chatted into the night - retiring to Mike's and Ben's awnings to weather the first and second rain showers passing over camp.

Eventually we all bid each other good night and climbed into our tents. The next day was going to be interesting - we couldn't put off our attempt to reach Silver City any longer - and with the snow level seemingly lower than it been on our last trip, that was going to be an interesting endeavor...

 

great photos once again Turbo!

 

You Can't Drive Through the Delamar Mine - Owyhee Redux #3

As the third rain shower of the night hit camp, we all decided it was time for bed, and the fire got put away as we retired to our respective perches to the pitter patter of raindrops - which, along with the nearby gurgling of the creek, lulled us to sleep.

It rained on and off through the first half of the night, but by morning the rain had passed and the skies were mostly clear - a great way to start the day.

​

In a depression and with clouds still on the eastern horizon, there was no point in getting up early, so I waited for the sun to hit the tent and then made my way down the ladder - only a few minutes before Ben @m3bassman did the same to let Venice and Milo out for the morning. As I wandered around camp, a bright spot caught my eye in the distance. Downwind, I was able to get reasonably close to a lone pronghorn checking out our camp.

​

Breakfast and coffee ensued soon after I returned to camp, Mike @Digiratus and Zane @Speedytech7 now up as well. For most of us, it was just the normal routine, though I don't know if that was the case for Ben and Kirsten. It appeared that Ben was getting a cooking lesson.

​

Pay attention Ben.​

Tents were good and wet after a night of rain, so we lazied around a bit waiting for them to dry - at least mostly - before stowing them and getting ourselves ready to go. The plan for the day was to fuel up in Jordan Valley, then head east toward Silver City, Idaho. Since we'd attempted the Silver City Road just a couple weeks earlier (full trip) and been turned around by snow, we decided that this time we'd see if we could make it by routing ourselves through the nearby Delamar Mine - something we hadn't had time for on the previous trip.

​

Remember kids, open doors ruin photos. ​

​

We covered the 20 miles or so from the campsite near Jordan Craters to Highway 95 in no time, and since we knew the road to Silver City was in reasonable shape - and that if it was unpassable, that the re-route on the Owyhee Uplands Backcountry Byway was an extremely nice gravel road, we decided we might as well air up to go easy on the trucks and allow - a slightly, since I was leading - faster pace on pavement.

​

In no time, we'd filled up with fuel and set off east into Idaho. In the distance, the snow situation to Silver City seemed worse than it'd been a couple weeks before.

​

We need to get beyond those mountains. And there's no tunnel through.​

Not long after we started up onto the plateau leading to the Owyhee Mountains - within which Silver City sits - we found ourselves stacked up behind a caravan of 9 or so full-sized pickups and trailers, all obviously headed to the Delamar Mine! We followed along for a while, thinking that - perhaps - we could just follow them in - but a couple miles before the fork to the mine, they pulled over to let us pass. Curious what they could tell us, I stopped to ask if we could make it to Silver City through the mine, and the answer was an immediate, "No."

Well, "Could we go look at the mine?" I asked.

"This is the best view you're going to get," the guy I was talking to responded. "We don't have any overlooks or anything." Then he added, "I know it sucks that Google routes you through the mine, but we've got a lot of equipment working up there, and it's a private road, so we don't allow folks through."

Of course, we all totally understood that, so we bid the miners farewell and then pulled over because we had a decision to make - whether or not to go look at the old ghost town of Delamar, up the Silver City road, before turning around and heading back to the Byway, to scoot around to the east of Silver City, hopefully to make it in from that direction.

​

Everyone was interested in the ruins of Delamar, so we continued the five-or-so miles up the road to the old town and mine ruins. There is still one resident that calls this place home - at least for part of the year - but otherwise everything here is reasonably run-down, but still fun to explore.

​

​

​

And then, we made what I think we'd all later feel was a bit of a rash decision. See, at this point we were no more than about 7-10 miles from Silver City, but knowing the conditions from a couple weeks earlier, and seeing the snow level much lower than it'd been, I was pretty sure that we'd encounter snow if we continued on. In need of new tires - to say mine are on their last legs is really overlooking the blame I deserve for letting them go so long - I told Ben he could lead and do the snow bashing.

He declined.

Mike also mentioned that he wasn't really up for snow - so without even checking the situation out, we turned around immediately and headed for the Uplands Byway.

Looking back now - we should have at least checked out that road; because if it was clear, we'd have saved the remainder of the day and 150 miles of track. But hey, hindsight and all that - we were on an adventure and having fun!

Plus, even though the Byway is the long way around - at 104 miles - it passes quickly and offers expansive views nearly the entire time. Hard to complain about this route too much!

​

​

This would be a good place to mention that just before we climbed up onto the plateau that lends the "Uplands" moniker to the Owyhee Uplands Byway, we'd all been ready for lunch. It was a little after noon for us from the RealTime Zone™, and after 1:00pm for those from Mountain Time. There was just one small problem - snow. They were just flurries, but none of us really wanted to eat in those conditions, so we pushed on, hoping to drive through the flurries to something much more pleasant.

​

It took a good 45 minutes, but as we rounded a bend just past a reservoir, the sun on a spectacularly green field with snow-capped mountains rising in the distance was exactly what we'd been waiting for. It was lunch time!

​

​

It was still chilly of course, but nice to be out of the trucks an in the sun for a few minutes while we wolfed down our sandwiches. Much to the dismay of those who were unable to participate.

​

Sandwichless.​

​

Our bellies satisfied once again, it was back on the road with relatively few stops for the remainder of the Byway. Even so, it was 4:15pm when we found ourselves turning north on the Poison Creek Cutt-off towards what we hoped would be our camp for the night. See, at Ben's suggestion, we'd scrapped a second attempt at Silver City in the afternoon - the trip from the east taking a good 3-4 hours round trip from his recollection. Instead, we'd get to camp a little early, and then check out Silver City the next morning.

​

Someone needs a haircut.​

Camp for us was a few miles up a wash that crossed Poison Creek Cutoff, and as we neared our destination, it was immediately apparent that this was a special place - time and erosion having worked their magic, spectacular slot canyons left for us to enjoy.

​

It turned out that the exact spot Ben had in mind wasn't going to work - tucked in at the mouth of the slot, it was really optimized for a single truck - but we found a spot that would easily fit our vehicles nearby and settled ourselves in.

​

​

​

Just call me Tacomalander.​

Keen to explore the area, we all got ready to go just as a rain shower passed overhead, so it was back into the trucks for a bit of reading, perhaps a bit of napping, and probably a little snacking. Soon enough, the sun was back out and we set off on foot for the mouth of the slot canyon.

​

I forget who it was, but as we made our way through the canyon, someone mentioned how the sand here was super strange. "It's like a bunch of little balls," they said. It was probably Ben or Kirsten or @mrs.turbodb, and sure enough, after a bit of inspection, we realized it was Oolite.

​

Oolite is a sedimentary rock made up of tiny ooids that are cemented together. Most oolites are limestones - made of calcium carbonate - formed into spheroidal grains. The nucleus of the grain is usually a mineral or biogenic fragment around which the mineral cortex forms, increasing the size of the grain spherically until it reaches the size of a grain of sand - usually with a diameter in the .5 - 1 mm range.

We continued our hike through the slot canyon, eventually making our way up and out the top (a nice, reasonably rare occurrence with slot canyons) where we were greeted with a splendid view of camp, and winds gusting to 30 mph.

​

​

​

​

What was really nice was that the winds in camp - below the canyon walls - were much calmer - so we headed back down to setup and relax, the view and light reminiscent of our time in City of Rocks the previous year (full trip).

​

With an hour or so to kill before dinner, @mrs.turbodb and I decided we'd also go explore the other side of the canyon - there were no slot canyons there, but plenty of cool wind caves, oolite, and fossilized shells were enough to draw us in.

​

​

The views of camp from over here weren't too shabby either!

​

​

Now hungry for dinner, we eventually headed back down and enjoyed bang-bang chicken wraps around a camp fire that had been personally delivered by our newest cohort - Will @willhaman21. See, we'd burned nearly all our wood the night before, and had been unable to find more in Jordan Valley.

Ben made a call - or text - or whatever those younguns do to contact each other these days - (tic-tac or something? ) - and Will made the couple hour trek down to meet us - originally planning to return home after having a bite to eat and some time around the fire, but as the light left the sky, he eventually deciding to stay the night (thanks Angie!)

​

With plenty of wood, lots to talk about, and perfect weather, we stayed up late into the night. It was after midnight - for sure - when we finally called it an evening when we headed up our ladders.

I found myself wondering what that would mean for our adventure the next day - would we have time for everything we'd planned? We had a lot of great places on that agenda, but hey, no need to get ahead of ourselves...

 

The Long Road to Silver City, Wickahoney, & Indian Hot Springs - Owyhee Redux #4

With canyon walls around us, and clouds in the sky, I didn't even set my alarm when we went to bed - so sure was I that sunrise would be a non-event. But, as often happens, my internal alarm woke me at just the right time. A quick peek out the tent door, and it was apparent that somewhere - just out of sight - was orange.

Though it was chilly, I climbed out of bed and realized that I might actually have a shot if I climbed to the top of the canyon wall. Time wasn't on my side though, so it was more of a sprint up the wall for the last few minutes of light along the horizon.

​

​

​

More awake than usual with my early exercise, I decided it best not to climb back into bed, but instead to hang out an read for a few hours until everyone else was up and about. Around 7:00am Will @willhaman21 got himself up and out of camp - he had to work, despite it being Saturday of Memorial Day weekend - and an hour or so later, the rest of camp began to stir.

All of our normal tasks and routines were wrapped up by 9:00am and we were on our way out of the wash; north towards Silver City!

​

Where The Silver City road from the west is a highly travelled two-track, it's clear that most visitors come from the east. Here, the road was paved a good bit of the way, making for easy travel and great views of the snow-capped Owyhee Mountains.

​

​

Along the way we also ran into a swarm of Mormon Crickets - actually, one swarm of many that we'd seen the last several days - their size and numbers always both a bit surprising and a little creepy.

​

Eventually the pavement ended, but even so, this road was quite obviously better maintained than the one we'd attempted the previous day - the grading obvious, and as we'd soon discover, it was even plowed at higher elevations!

​

​

​

As we crested the high point of the journey at New York Summit, we paused again - the green, white, and blue unfolding picturesquely before us. Making it here meant that we'd finally be successful in reaching Silver City - for us, the third time was a charm!

​

Not that we really had any doubts - the road in had been a super highway of vehicles - UTVs mostly, but also a few Jeeps and even a couple passenger vehicles - Silver City was bound to be a hopping metropolis on this first day of Memorial Day weekend.

​

​

Our first stop in town was at the historic cemetery. As we solemnly explored the graves - many of which included the original headstone as well as a more recent memorial plaque, it was striking to see how young many of those laid to rest really were a stark reminder of how tough life was in the 1800's.

​

​

From there, we entered the town - first for an auto-tour, to find parking; then for a walking tour before lunch.

​

​

The Catholic church, still with three services a year.​

​

The historic Idaho Hotel, where you can still get a bite to eat and stay the night - though from the looks of the place, too many guests might cause it to collapse.​

​

The Masonic temple, its foundation spanning Jordan Creek.​

It was 1:30pm as we wrapped up lunch and fired up the Tacomas to caravan out of town. Silver City was a cool place, but as we headed back into the mountains, I think we all found ourselves wishing we'd visited it on a less-busy day.

​

Half an hour later, we found ourselves in that transition zone between mountain and high desert, the views to the east too tempting for Mike to pass up. Not that I had any problem with that - never one to skip a nice overlook.

​

From the Silver City Road, we scooted ourselves down Highway 78 to Grand View for fuel, then south on Highway 51 towards our next - and final - two destinations for the day: Wikahoney and Indian Hot Springs.

Unsure of the road conditions to Wickahoney, but knowing that the road to Indian Hot Springs would benefit from lower tire pressures, I suggested that we air down as soon as we hit dirt just for a bit more comfort. There were no complaints - naturally - and expecting to have the road - which was litterally in the middle of nowhere - to ourselves, we just shut off the trucks and started airing down.

So, you can imagine our surprise when a Nissan Pathfinder approached from the opposite direction. Go figure!

​

Scattered trucks, caught airing down.​

The only traffic we'd see the rest of the day now in our rear view mirrors, we completed our squishy-tire-mod, and headed out along roads used only infrequently, and happy for the extra cushion we now had to absorb the bumps.

​

​

How many adventurer's does it take to close a gate?​

As we arrived at Wickahoney - a place that both Ben @m3bassman and I had wanted to visit since we'd seen it on satellite imagery - we were all surprised at what we found. On satellite, the location looks like a short foundation, but of course, with an overhead view, there's no way to determine height. In fact, the walls of this old stage stop were still largely intact, doors and windows breaking up the stonework.

​

​

We poked around the main building and several other rock structures for 20 minutes or so, the moo-ing of nearby cows a soundtrack to our exploration.

​

By now, it was getting on in the afternoon. A little after 4:00pm, it was time to get going - the route to Indian Hot Springs - our final destination on the other side of ID-51 - some two hours away... assuming the route was passable.

We headed south.

​

​

As we neared the point at which we'd cross ID-51, we spotted a compound in the distance. None of us sure what it was, we all took guesses. A correctional facility? A military installation? A pig farm?

With no signage, we never found out.

​

What is this place at the end of Duncan Butte Road?​

Across the highway and onto Rowland Route Road, we made good time over the first dozen or so miles towards Indian Hot Springs. This all changed though as we turned off the main drag. From that point until we reached our destination, the going was slow - the road alternating between being covered in softball-size rocks and standing water (and mud) from the rain earlier in the week.

​

It was a slog, one that several of us commented on over the CB radio - but not one that any of us who'd been here before had remembered as a standout feature of this road. Perhaps that's because when Ben and Kirsten had been here, they'd been stopped on the final descent - at 11:30pm - by a pair of fallen boulders, forcing them to back up the shelf road in the dark. Perhaps it was because when @mrs.turbodb and I had been here, we'd made it down the shelf road only to discover that the bridge across the Bruneau River at the bottom of the canyon was too dilapidated to cross - and since we wanted to explore the eastern route to the springs as well, that meant retracing our steps and making a 100-mile detour around to the other side.

Whatever the reason, we were glad when this section of road was behind us and we found ourselves at the upper entrance to the shelf road and the Bruneau Cherrystem sign.

​

Unsure if the shelf road would be passable - or whether the section that had begun to wash out a year ago would be even more-so after another winter - we got our of our trucks to survey the situation, and investigate the ruins of a stone cabin that's perched here, high on the canon wall.

​

​

To our relief, the road seemed in essentially the same condition it'd been in when we visited the previous year, so we decided that @mrs.turbodb and I would drive down, radioing back when we reached the bottom - just in case a rockfall further down required us to back all the way out.

​

​

​

It was slow going - but fun - and within 10 minutes or so, we radioed back that the next truck should make its way down.

We'd made it to Indian Hot Springs, and our timing couldn't have been better. At a little after 7:00pm, the evening sun was streaming in under the clouds, but was still high enough to light the bottom of the canyon. The views here are spectacular, worth the trip even if you aren't one to partake in the soaking experience.

​

​

​

While we waited for the rest of the crew, we explored the ruins of the old rock buildings down here in the valley. Whoever had made a home here so many decades ago had been lucky to find such a spot, even if the route in - and out - must have been exceedingly difficult.

We also explored the new bridge over the Bruneau River. This bridge was the reason that I'd wanted to come back to this place. Not only had it been an impassable obstacle on our previous journey, but I'd received an email after *someone* read our Double Dose of Indian Hot Springs story (full trip) telling me that the bridge had been replaced. Initially I'd been skeptical - the old bridge had been in place for so long, and the location was so remote - who in their right mind would replace it? But, sure enough it turns out that the company leasing the land (Simplot), with permission from the BLM, had decided it was worth it in order to more easily retrieve cows who wandered across the natural boundary.

​

​

​

Soon enough, Ben and Mike @Digiratus showed up, followed shortly by Zane @Speedytech7. It was time to find camp.

​

Naturally, we wanted to camp down by the hot springs. Ben made his way down first - though the 180° water onto a rocky bar - where he discovered two mountain bikers had claimed the prime location, likely not more than 30 minutes before our arrival.

​

A warm undercarriage wash for each truck.​

Luckily however, a little further on - though with no access to the springs - we found a nice private site with plenty of room and a fire ring where we could setup camp.

​

Normally, this might be the part of the story where things start to wind down - we'd get set up, make dinner, enjoy our last camp fire as an entire group - that type of thing. But not this evening. In figuring out the perfect spot to position his truck, Ben discovered that it wouldn't start.

On the one hand - he was lucky to have made it to camp with no real trouble. On the other - what, the truck won't start?!

First, he used his LiIon jump pack to get himself up and running again, but as we all do, he accidentally turned off the ignition before he could fully recharge his jump pack. Pretty sure the issue was a dead battery, and 100% sure that the battery posts and clamps were thoroughly corroded, he set about removing and cleaning them as Mike and I measured the voltage across the battery.

​

The battery voltage seemed OK, but turning the key still resulted in only a single click and the hum of the fuel pump. I pulled my truck into position to try and get him started and we hooked up my battery to his. Nothing. Then, we took his battery completely out of the loop and hooked his positive and negative clamps directly to my battery. Uh oh.

At this point the leading cause became the starter. Zane grabbed a hammer and gave a few good whacks to the starter housing to try and unfreeze it. Nothing. Ultimately, Ben decided that he'd just leave it for the evening, and get a bump-start in the morning.

From Mike, because Zane, @mrs.turbodb, and I were headed out early - all of us needing to be back home on Sunday rather than returning on Memorial Day itself.

So, we all gathered around the fire, made our dinner, and chatted late into the night. It was after all, our last "all there" camp fire of the trip, and so no rush for it to end.

- - - - -​

Half of us were up bright and early the next morning. While Ben and Mike planned to head out over the newly constructed bridge and out the easier access road to the east, the two trucks leaving early were headed back out the way we'd come - up the shelf road to the west, and out through the bumps and mud to ID-51.

By 7:15am, we'd completed the climb to the top of the canyon - uphill for me, always an easier proposition.

​

The road out seemed less bad than the it had on our way in. Muddy, it still was, but the bumpiness and rocks that had worn on us all seemed about half as bad as we made our way north west. Perhaps it was the difference between driving a road like this at the end of the day vs. the beginning.

Mostly uneventful, there were a couple of flooded sections where I couldn't resist a few shots of the white truck helping itself to a free "wash" and then subsequent re-mudding.

​

​

​

​

​

And then, just as we were sure that the excitement was done, an ATV approached. We passed - courteously as always - only to see the rider waving his arms in our mirrors. I stopped and got out, wondering if this was perhaps the landowner, wondering what we were up to.

​

But it wasn't - not by a long shot. I didn't know yet, but it was *someone* named John, who greeted me with, "You're AdventureTaco!" Having been recognized a couple times in the past, I smiled and admitted to the name calling, at which point John added, "I'm the guy who emailed you about the bridge!"

Holy smokes - what a small world! This is one of the parts of exploring that I find extra special - when two people meet "in the out-there's," happy to be doing their own thing and yet even happier when meeting a kindred spirit and reveling in the coincidence of it all!

We chatted for a few minutes about the condition of the trail, and I assured him that it'd be no problem making it down to the hot springs on his ATV, and that he should say hi to the couple trucks we left down there. Then, we were each on our way - the Tacomas headed home and John just starting his adventure towards the springs!

Thanks for reading, get out there an explore!

 

Well, don't mind us. We have absolutely no interest in what it was.......

 

Never saw John.

 

You OK? Seem a little curt with posts yesterday. Hopefully it's just the internet affect.

No way, really? Well, that's great from a cost perspective I guess! Which terminal was it - POS or NEG? I ask because as I recall, we took the battery out of the equation altogether, and I thought we took the terminals out too when Zane got under the truck and put the jumper cable POS directly on the starter and we had the NEG on the block.

Anyway - awesome!

 

Doing fine here. Not feeling any grumpier than normal.