AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Honestly I would RockAuto the parts and go from there. At this stage unless its NOS then its all coming from the same manufacturers.

And yes, that's the correct AISIN Clutch Master

 

https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads/how-to-clutch-slave-cylinder-rebuild.197558/

not sure if toyota makes a kit.

how many miles you at? Obviously the first 100k or so were probably fairly mild but im sure the abuse has gone up. Should still hold for a while but anything is possible. All dependent on how you abuse it.

 

At 160K now, so 100K miles. I'm still pretty easy on my clutch, though of course the weight of the truck adds abuse, as do aired down tires and whatnot. I'll probably look to see if Toyota has a rebuild kit and compare the cost of that to a new slave.

Amazing looking back now at what I paid to get the work done at the dealer when I didn't know anything; it's clearly such an easy job (and boy, look at those parts prices I paid ). So "nice" that they gave me 18% off, .

 

A good price margin is around 30%. But you can bet some dealers get a better deal than others.

 

Yeah yeah, I'm mostly just poking at myself now that I know so much more. Back then, (a) I knew nothing, (b) had no tools, (c) I had other things keeping me busy, and (d) I'm in an only-slightly-less-expensive area than you . Paying was the right choice.

Now I look at it, and realize that I could do the same job in a couple hours and with $100 in parts. I like that feeling of picking up something new.

 

yeah but look at that sweet 15% discount!

 

That’s good to have the choice. For some things, I’m happy to pay cause if it’s fucked up, that’s not on me.

But the choice is good to have.

 

This video @05Taco4x4 posted in this thread was helpful to me when I had this issue. I hope it helps you too.

 

October of 2018. The only person I really spoke with was the postmaster and said "Hello" to 2 others. They didn't seem disturbed by my presence. I took several pics, none I really like as showing the town. Here's the closest one that I think expresses the experience.


The 3 different housing accommodations. "New Age" dome, that the tractor trailer shell gave up precious interior space for a porch, a camper and outhouse. Then there is the rock art. What is it's story? The mine operation probably had something to do with it because cutting and physically moving it there certainly took some machinery and effort. Finally the blue shovel accents the whole oddity.

In 2011 somebody did a documentary on the town called "Darwin: No Services Available". It's on Amazon or Netflix. Not the best doc but it's interesting. I didn't see the woman postmaster, when I went thru it was a man.

 

Thanks! Looks similar to the videos I found on YouTube, and also seems like pretty similar symptoms to you - so hopefully bleeding fixes it!

Gotcha. Wouldn't surprise me if 2020 was a tough year for Darwin - with all the extra people "outside" and "taking over their town" after it showed up in that documentary (which I have to say, didn't portray it in the best light, IMO). I linked to the documentary in the story btw .

 

This is always the tough thing to convey and that we are just visitors. Those who live there don’t deserve to be overrun.

 

I’ve been to Darwin maybe half a dozen times and on most of those visits, seen no one. I don’t always stop, but when I do stop it’s at the park/community garden. And I never drive around; either walk or bike quietly. They deserve their privacy, but on the other hand it is a public space with mostly county roads.

 

Petroglyphs of the Volcanic Tablelands - Nadeau #4

Anticipation. Hope. The Unknown.

As much as we may try to plan various aspects of a trip, the best adventures are full of these elements. They are - in my mind - what define adventure.

And so, as we headed north from Darwin, essentially on our way out of Death Valley, I was - perhaps - more excited than I'd been at any previous point on the trip. Now, we were headed north towards Bishop and the nearby Volcanic Tablelands - in search of the ******** Petroglyphs.

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Some much needed snow in the Sierras, finally contained the Creek Fire.​

I'd discovered these particular petroglyphs in a most unexpected way: the Microsoft Bing search engine had used them as its background on November 1, 2020 - just three days before we were to head south to explore the Nadeau Trail. Knowing that we'd be in the area, I set about my usual tactics to discover the exact location of ******** so we could check it out!

I failed, miserably. Searches of the internet turned up trip descriptions with general locations, but nothing concrete. Armed with these general locations and high-res satellite imagery, I tried Google Earth as well, with no success. I even emailed a few folks who I thought might know the location and be willing to share. Alas - or perhaps thankfully - they reminded me that it's much more thrilling to find such a special place on ones own. Thank you Eric.

So, armed with a few possible locations, that's where we were headed - in search of the known, via routes unknown.

It took a couple hours to reach Bishop, California, where we'd hoped to stop at @mrs.turbodb's favorite bakery - Schat's - to stock up on sandwiches for the remainder of the trip home. Unfortunately, the line was out the door and moving slowly due to COVID-19, and we had to pass - every minute of light valuable in our search for the petroglyphs.

Just north of Bishop are the Volcanic Tablelands. Formed over 700,000 ago by the Long Valley Caldera, these flat-topped mountains formed when lava erupted and solidified, covering an area of nearly 850 square miles. Ranging in thickness from 500-650 feet, this area was once barren and burnt, but now supports a unique ecosystem of fragile plant life.

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In more recent times, the Paiute-Shoshone Indians lived here and created a great deal of rock art throughout the Tablelands. And, even though this land is public land - managed and protected by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) - it is such a large area that cannot adequately be patrolled, leaving it vulnerable to those who might disturb its history.

And so, I think it's important to note that this post is a little different than others. With most trips, I don't hesitate to share the specifics of where we are - road and place names plentiful and easily used (with a bit of time) to recreate the same route. For a few trips, I redact names - usually because the person who shared the location with me has requested that it be kept special. In this case, the location and name of the destination are well known, and generally not hard to get to - so redaction of those would serve no purpose. However, as I've mentioned above, the exact location is difficult to find. At least as of this visit, all but the most generic information on how to get there is hidden from public view. I will continue that tradition.

Or first order of business then was making our way to the general location where I suspected that the ******** Petroglyph may reside. This was a bit of a trek - perhaps more or less depending on the starting point - but the varied landscape around us was nearly reward enough!

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Eventually, we reached the spot I'd marked on our map to start the detailed search. One of the things that differentiates the ******** Petroglyphs from others is that they were created on a rock face that is nearly parallel to the ground - not on a vertical surface like most rock art. As such, the best way to find them is via high ground, and so that's where we headed. Then, we crossed our fingers and began a systematic search of the area.

If we'd chosen the wrong spot, our evening could have easily ended in failure - an outcome that we were both prepared for, and even probably expecting. After all, finding a rock in an area 850 square miles is quite literally the definition of needle in a haystack.

But today was our lucky day. After half an hour or so, we hit the jackpot. Not exactly where I'd expected, but close enough to be discoverable, the ******** petroglyphs reflected the light of the evening sky wonderfully.

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Sweet success.​

I was a kid in a candy store as I moved from position to position to capture the moment, and probably spent a little more time doing so than @mrs.turbodb would have preferred. Eventually, there were no more angles, and the storm approaching from the west made for chilly temps and difficult lighting, so we called it good - a grin still plastered on my face.

Before heading back, we decided that we'd look around a bit more for another elusive petroglyph that I knew from my research was in the same general area - though, like ********, the specific location of this petroglyph also held close and difficult to find without knowing someone who knows the location.

If there was ever a day to purchase a lottery ticket, this would have been that day - because not long after departing ********, we found ourselves feasting our eyes on that which I hadn't imagined we stood any chance at seeing: ********.

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There are 13 moon cycles in a year, each represented in this tremendous piece of art.​

More than satisfied, we made our way back to the truck as the sun set overhead. Our shot in the dark had been an unquestionable success and more. Not only had we found what we'd come looking for, but we'd found a new place to explore. Far from a barren wasteland, the geology and historic significance of the Volcanic Tablelands had piqued my interest. As I knew after my first trip to Death Valley, I can tell this is a place I will return!

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And with that, we pointed the Tacoma north - an 18-hour drive ahead of us. Within 5 minutes of reaching the highway, the snow started, and it didn't let up until we were most of the way through Oregon. We really had timed this whole thing perfectly!

 

i don't know my way around the tablelands and could not find these glyphs. cool that you did. the tablelands rise into the Glass range with separate interesting areas to the northeast and extend northwesterly over toward Mono. I'd found an interesting camp several years ago with an alternate overlook of the upper reaches of the Long Caldera, as well as a good view of the Sierras. it was windy and had a hefty yellowjacket population. as a side note I've read a blog site of some mountain folks who drive a 200K ford ranger and tend to eschew those who drive Tacomas in convoy..or build campfires....they are well researched in their travels, and so i found it interesting they had thanked Eric for a clue about three boulders in a meadow, which enabled them to put a final puzzle piece together on one of there long term searches. this makes me think you did catch a clue from eric even though it sounds like you didn't... ; )

 

Oh, I tried to catch a clue from him, believe me. I believe the quote from him was... ah yes, here it is: (I hope he doesn't mind me sharing - he does paint himself in a good light, so...)

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Naturally, I did share my best guess from the research I'd done, but as it turned out, he was busy studying and we were imminently departing on the trip, so he wasn't able to get back to me before I returned. I hope now that he wouldn't have told me, though I guess we'll never be certain. I did thank him when I got back, however!

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I'm now curious about three boulders in a meadow, however.

 

I saw some petroglyphs in the Tablelands a few years back but can’t find the pictures to see if they were the same. They were easy to find and I could legally ride (I was on my dual sport) right up to them. Was saddened to find them somewhat defaced and graffiti-ed ... either they were different than these or they have closed off the road access to reduce the vandalism. So sad that people do that kind of thing, but it’s OK to have them require more sweat to find. Kind of like the oldest bristlecone pine ...

 

Another amazing write up and trip report, thanks so much for sharing @turbodb !

 

I know the glyphs of which you speak - or rather, there are several glyphs in the area that have roads leading to them. I'll be headed back to spend more time and see more of them in the future, I'm sure!

The vandalism is a huge bummer, and is real. All of the glyphs in the area that are "easily accessible" have fences now, and the number of bullet holes in them is disheartening.

Absolutely! So glad you enjoyed it! More coming soon .

 

Mines of the Funeral Mountains - Loose Ends #1

I don't know whether it's an "oh, duh!" moment, or "can you believe it?" situation, but less than two weeks after returning from our Death Valley trip along the Nadeau Trail, we were headed back for more!

I was jazzed, and - a little surprisingly to me - so was @mrs.turbodb!

This time, the land area we'd cover would be larger than the last, with our plan to see several places that we've meant to visit over the last few years but that we've never gotten to - largely because there's only so much you can see on a given trip, and destinations at the end of itineraries are often left behind. Loose ends, as it were.

In the moment, those misses are a bummer - but, as I'm always advising folks who make the journey to this special park - they are blessings in disguise, because they give us a reason to return. There's always more in Death Valley to explore, and so full of excitement, we headed for several locations in the Funeral Mountains. A combination of driving and hiking, canyons and mines, we planned to visit Chloride Cliff, the Big Bell Mine, Monarch Canyon and the Inyo Mine in Echo Canyon before heading northwest to Hunter Mountain and Hidden Valley.

It'd be a full three days - if we could fit it all in. But hey, even if we couldn't, that'd be OK too - it's not like this would be our last trip to a favorite place!

We awoke on our second day of the trip to an orange glow on the horizon just after 5:45am, just south of Beatty, Nevada.

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Having gotten a full three-and-a-half hours of sleep after arriving at camp in the wee hours of the morning, we were both still tired, but pulled ourselves out of bed, knowing that at this time of year, light was precious - it'd be dark again by 4:45pm in the afternoon.

Soon we were out of the tent and after a quick discussion, we decided that we'd wait a couple hours for breakfast - hopefully affording ourselves a view as we munched away. Not that what we'd woken up to was anything to complain about.

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And then, we were on the road - headed west into the park and straight to our first destination: Chloride Cliff.

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Perched high in the Funeral Mountains, Chloride Cliff was the first mining operation (1872) on the east side of Death Valley. Like many, its story is one of limited success and abundant disappointment over the next 90 years. Today, little is left of the mine camp - a large water tank the most prominent piece of equipment as we pulled up to the site.

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This tank sat next to the foundation of the final mill that would run in these parts - a mercury treatment plant that burned to the ground after running just a small amount of ore.

From there, we wandered through what had been the the rest of Chloride City, but was now a haphazard maze of roads winding amongst the hills - just east of the Chloride Cliffs where the main mine shafts were located. What's left is in rough shape - a dugout here, old pulley parts there, and mine shafts sprinkled through it all.

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I don't know why, but I'm always intrigued by dugouts.​

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Life here was tough on everyone and everything.​

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"Don't mind the road, just tunnel under it."​

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Several shafts had small buildings in front of the openings, to protect from snowfall, perhaps?​

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One of three dugouts used as boarding houses for the miners.​

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Twin tunnels.​

In the early years, the biggest problem for Chloride Cliffs - besides the lack of valuable ore in the ground - was the high cost of transporting what was found to be processed. As such, only two years after starting, August Franklin was forced to shut down his operation - though, he continued to perform the necessary assessments in order to keep the claims alive for the next 30 years until his death. Only a few years after that, his son George would reap the largest windfall of the Franklin family, when he sold the mine for $150,000 in 1906. This turned out to be a smart move, the area failing to produce meaningful material until it was abandoned for the last time in the 1960s. (Hiking Death Valley)

Eventually, we made our way up to the top of Chloride Cliff behind town, and we were rewarded with the highlight of this far-away place: the views.

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Expansive views.

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Did I mention the views?

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This was the perfect spot for breakfast, and as I hopped around trying to somehow capture the moment, @mrs.turbodb poured enormous bowls of cereal and covered them with fresh berries. Not a bad way to start the morning, really!

And boy, were we just getting started. The highlight of our foray up to Chloride Cliff was actually a different mine altogether. Down the west side of the mountain - in a ravine some 1,600 feet below - the Big Bell Mine is accessible only via foot, an old cableway dropping the entire distance in just under three-quarters of a mile!

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We set off - the two of us - sliding our way down the rocky slope that was once a road, each of us doing our best to stay upright as we made our way towards the mine. Along the way, two-inch steel rods had been drilled and pounded into the ground, steel loops and cables used to winch the vehicles that ventured this way, now laying dormant on the mountainside.

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That this was once a road...hard to fathom.​

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A long winch up.​

About 40% of the way down - as it became clear that the road only became steeper the further we went - @mrs.turbodb decided she'd had enough, and bowed out. I continued on alone, each step down a reminder that the return trip would be a workout.

But boy - oh boy - when I reached the Big Bell Mine, it was all so worth it. I mean, where to start? Perhaps with the still-hanging ore carts? Or the amazingly well preserved mill?

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The difficulty of reaching the Big Bell Mine turned out to be the best thing ever. With so few people willing to make the arduous trek, it is perhaps the most well-preserved mine I've ever had the pleasure to explore. I knew immediately that my hope of a quick "take a few photos and head back to @mrs.turbodb" was an impossibility. It was time to enjoy the moment.

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This old truck (right) contained a gas engine and electric winch. It was used to winch material up the cableway I'd just descended, pulling the flat trailer behind it.

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That's one way to firm up the suspension. ​

I probably spent a good 15 minutes poking around the mill area of the mine site. The winches, pulleys, tanks, conveyors, and generators were all rusty but otherwise mostly complete - such a contrast to their scavanged counterparts at more popular sites.

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Most of the remains of this still-privately-patented site are from the 1935-1937 Coen Company era, and from the mill, I could see several tunnels on the north side of the canyon where ore was mined before being dumped into buckets that rode an aerial tramway across the bottom of the canyon. I headed that direction.

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The mine shafts were nearly as interesting as the mill. An old rail line - used to convey ore to the aerial tramway - still snaked in and out of the shafts, ore bins likely pushed by hand along the narrow-gauge rail.

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A little oil and these drills would probably work just splendidly!​

And finally, a little further up the hill, the miners camp. A row building, each room appeared to be a studio-style dwelling, complete with bed frames, kitchen implements and plenty of shelving. Time has taken its toll on the camp, the roof now collapsed and the walls starting to crumble. Still, in its heyday, this would have been quite the place to work with a view!

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After years of service, a well-deserved rest in a beautiful spot.​

Well, I'd tootled around for a good 30-40 minutes before I finally dragged myself away from the Big Bell Mine and back up the road to @mrs.turbodb and the Tacoma. The views of Death Valley along the way were spectacular, somewhat distracting me from the average 30º slope.

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After what was essentially a 1,600 vertical foot flight of stairs, I was happy to finally reach the end of the cableway, the Tacoma now just a short distance further!

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And with that, we climbed back in the truck - more thankful than ever for what we've come to call "American Hiking" - the Tacoma allowing us to make quick progress with little effort as we headed back to the ridgeline, our time at Chloride Cliff and the Big Bell Mine a resounding success!

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From the Chloride Cliff area, we headed north - along the usual route that people take to get to this place - toward the well-known Daylight Pass. Along the way, we stopped a few times at various mine ruins - a dugout here, an ore bin there - that kind of thing.

While we could have easily passed these up under the pretense of staying "on schedule," I think we both feel like it's important to be in the moment on a trip like this, rather than tied to some clock. The saying, "we're here, so let's take a look," is a common response when we pull up on something unexpected!

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Pushing on, it was only a few more miles to Monarch Canyon, and the views along the way were brilliant in what was still only mid-morning sun. And soon, we arrived at the end of the road, about a mile down the canyon and the beginning of our next short trek.

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Parked again, time to hike the wash!​

Monarch Canyon is an interesting canyon in itself, but given that we were starting from the top - rather than the bottom - of the canyon, we weren't going to be able to see the impressive 110-foot waterfall. Not today, anyway - perhaps on another trip! Instead, our destination was just a half mile down canyon - the Indian Mine.

Luckily for us, navigating the most difficult part of the canyon - a 50' dry fall just below our parking spot - was easy. An old access grade to the mine conveniently bypasses this fall, the striated rock twisted and contorted over millions of years.

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At its bottom, the canyon largely leveled out, making for an easy hike the rest of the way to the mine as we admired the colorful walls that rose up around us, and the tall grasses that thrived in the sun at a nearly-dry spring in the wash.

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Built onto the side of the canyon, the mine's mill and the ore bin, all cling to the rock in a desperate attempt to remain standing. A long wooden ore chute that once fed ore into the ore bin is now collapsing under the weight of time, its carcass ascending the steep canyon wall to a narrow-gauge track leading to the main tunnel where mining took place.

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One of the stamps still remains in the mill.​

A much smaller mine site, the Indian Mine didn't take long to explore, and with both of us hungry after a morning of down-and-up hiking, we headed back to the shade of the truck for some lunch - sandwiches and chips sure to hit the spot.

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It was just after 2:00pm when we pulled onto the pavement of Daylight Pass Road and headed west - down into Death Valley, with Corkscrew Peak rising up behind us.

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As we ticked away the 40 miles or so we had to travel on pavement to our next foray into the Funeral Mountains, we discussed our game plan for the remaining couple hours of daylight we had for the day. My original plan had been to drive up Echo Canyon and find a spot to camp high in the Funeral Mountains, leaving any exploration of the canyon - as well as the Inyo Mine part way up - for the following morning. However, we both knew that the next day was already packed, and so if we could do a bit of that exploration on our way up-canyon on our way to camp, we'd be setting ourselves up well for the following day.

And hey, "we were here, so we might as well check it out."

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Echo Canyon is colorful from the start; no wonder it's a popular place.​

Echo Canyon is the longest canyon in the Funeral Mountains, and the first several miles are simply driving up the alluvial fan that spreads out from the canyon mouth. Even in the middle of the week, several groups were already camped along the road in this popular location, making me wonder if someone would be in the spot I'd scouted further up canyon.

I didn't know it at the time, but that wasn't going to be an issue at all, as we reached the gorge that marked the mouth of the canyon.

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The rock here - as it had been in Monarch Canyon - was striated and colorful, parts of it reminding me of Titus Canyon.

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We made good time up the wash, our aired down tires and high-clearance making easy work of the few small obstacles that might keep a passenger car or less experienced driver on the alluvial fan. While there was lots of gawking out the windows as we drove through, we only made a couple of stops - the most notable at Eye of the Needle Arch - given the time, and our desire to get to camp before sundown.

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Some 10 miles up Echo Canyon, we reached the Inyo Mine. It was 3:42pm - only about 45 minutes until sunset. But, we were here, now, and who knows what the situation in the morning would bring, so we decided that a quick look around was in order - probably a bit more rushed than would be ideal, but even with our best intentions, we too find ourselves working against the clock in certain situations!

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The old mill and ore bin at Inyo Mine.​

The Inyo Mine's camp is a cluster of wooden buildings at the foot of the steep hillside where the gold was mined. One of the more popular mining camps in the park, it's still in remarkably good condition given the ease of access, and we enjoyed walking around to look at the various structures, comparing their current state of disrepair to that mentioned in Digonnet's book.

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A small dugout, from the 1907 mining era.​

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Boarding house.​

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Unknown structure - perhaps a storage building.​

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The ore chute of the mill, as well as settling plates (similar to a sluice box).​

Discovered in 1905, as fortune seekers were combing the mountains - hoping to find a strike as rich as the one at the Keane Wonder Mine - the area was originally staked as 20 claims that were sold to the Inyo Gold Mining Company. For two years, the company extensively developed the area and by April 1906 the main shaft was 100 feet deep with several crosscuts, and a second shaft had already been opened. With gold ore worth nearly $300/ton, in some places, the mine caught the attention of one Charles Schwab - former president of the U.S. Steel Corporation, and one of the wealthiest men in the country. While he never invested directly in the Inyo Mine, he did sink some of his personal fortune into nearby mines, lending legitimacy to the operation.

In 1907, just as the Inyo Mine geared up for the construction of its mill, a great financial panic hit the mining industry and with a lack of available funding, the company was unable to secure enough investors to keep the mine operational. Negotiations dragged on for nearly 5 years until January 1912 when the mine was finally abandoned. At the time, the company had nearly $650,000 worth of ore in sight, not a single shipment ever sent to market! (Hiking Death Valley)

With a history like that, we knew it was worth a few more minutes to head up the mine road behind camp to check out the main shaft - a 700-foot adit known as the Octaroon - and the ore chute at its mouth. While several companies had picked over the area since 1912, maybe we'd find a small nugget from that $650,000 lode gleaming in the evening sun.

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We had no such luck, and with only about 15 minutes until sunset, we hustled back into the truck and towards our planned camp site - a place much further up the middle fork of Echo Canyon. This long road runs up and over the crest of the Funeral Mountains, eventually dropping down toward the state line (and US-95) near the town site of Lee. We didn't have any plans to get to Lee, but I had scouted a camp site high in the mountains - my hope that we'd have great sunset and sunrise views. Or maybe - given the time now - just sunrise.

Plus, while I generally have a good sense of any major obstacles along our route - or at least know of their existence - I'd somehow missed the point that there was a reasonably tall dry fall in the upper section of Echo Canyon. Actually, I'd marked a "waterfall," but somehow assumed that it would be something to see along the side of the trail! Anyway, as we drove up the wash approaching this section of trail, my comment to @mrs.turbodb was, "umm, where's the road go?"

Of course, it all became clear as we got a little closer, and while we'd have spent more time here under normal circumstances to document the narrow passage, I knew that we'd be back in the morning, so I turned on the lockers and we made quick work of the situation so we could continue on towards our stopping point for the night.

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Even with extra heavy use of the skinny pedal, it was dark by the time we pulled into the camp site I'd found as I planned this route. A bit chilly at the high elevation, we decided to divide and conquer - @mrs.turbodb making a chicken salad dinner, while I deployed the tent and replaced a skid plate bolt that'd gone missing at some point along our rather bumpy route.

As the last light of day faded from the horizon, we reflected on the gleefully full day we'd had. As always seems to happen, we'd found ourselves in a rush to "see it all," though I'd say we still did a reasonable job of being in the moment wherever we were.

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With a slight breeze and cool temps, it was 7:00pm when we climbed into the tent, each of us tired from a the three hours of sleep we'd had over the last two days. Cozied up under the covers, we quickly found ourselves nodding off - smiles on our face as we looked forward to the adventures we knew were coming the next day.

Love Death Valley? Check out
the Death Valley Index
for all the amazing places I've been in and around this special place over the years.​

 

The Funeral Mountains offer some pretty spectacular stuff to see. It's been a while since I've been there and this was a great reminder of the beauty.