AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

The approach isn't without its drawbacks, so I don't want to characterize it as a complete slam-dunk. But in terms of cost-effective headlight upgrades, this in my opinion by far the best option for our trucks. The high wattage bulbs give dramatically more light output without substantially messing up the beam shape, although technically the filament design is going to be slightly different than the stock bulb, and they are sold as "off road only" bulbs. Even if you stick to stock-wattage bulbs, minute differences in the filament designs between different brands and product lines can cause noticeable differences in the beam quality and effectiveness in night driving, as well as of course wildly different lifetimes. Giving them a bit more voltage, e.g., by rewiring with bigger wires and a direct relay, can make a surprising difference too, but that's also a lot more work. Going to the higher wattage makes by far the biggest difference.

Note: Because the adapter plug doesn't offer a waterproof connection, I do recommend a proper solder splice as the longer-term solution to attaching the ceramic socket. However, the adapter looks pretty convenient for trying it out, and its costs the same as the splice-only connectors that I used in my upgrade:

$9 H4 Pigtail Socket Wiring Harness Headlight Plug Heavy Duty14AWG Ceramic Headlight Connector-H4 HB2 9003 (Pack of 2)

https://www.amazon.com/Wiring-Harness-Headlight-Ceramic-Retrofit/dp/B076JGTB7H

This is an important point, and I'm pleased to report that I've never been flashed by oncoming traffic for having annoying low beams. Can't say that for the OEM HIDs or LEDs on other cars I've driven. Of course when you fire up HIDs it feels like you're unleashing fusion reactors, and around town in clear weather, I'd even say I prefer the HIDs on my wife's car. But it turns out that our eyes are really bad at telling us how effective our headlights actually are. When we see this gloriously intense blue-white glow from the roadway right in front of us, which no halogen lamp can match, we think the headlights are substantially brighter and therefore must be better. For this reason, there is a huge market for utterly useless blue-tinted halogen bulbs, as well as countless sketchy "retrofit" options to cram HIDs or LEDs into lamp housings for which they're entirely incompatible. LEDs continue to improve, and today's retrofits are a lot better than the crap sold even a few years ago. In fact there's an emerging class of LED-like light sources which use lasers instead of diodes to pump the phosphors, which I think are absolutely the future of vehicle lighting for OEMs, and in principle could be used to make a housing-compatible retrofit for our older headlamps. To be clear, no products are yet available, and even if the technology does someday reach the aftermarket, I'm sure it would come amidst an onslaught of shitty hype-based products that either fake the technology or botch the design. But ultimately, both technologies are using GaN to pump the phosphors, and thus produce substantially more blue light than halogens. Our eyes interpret this as being brighter. But that's not the same thing as having good lighting. And in bad weather, it'd downright terrible.

Effective lighting is mostly about beam shape and spectrum, not apparent brightness. Keeping glare out of oncoming drivers' eyes goes hand in hand with keeping glare out of your your own eyes in rain and fog.

 

Better wiring really should go back to the battery and not through the stock switch in the cab. This thread lays all that out really clearly:

https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads/the-ultimate-headlight-upgrade-h4-not-led-or-hid.398066/

 

I might give the adapters you linked in the first one a try. Worst case, I don't like them and I'm out $25.

 

I'll read through there. Thanks for the link!

Sorry to thread jack, @turbodb

 

Love the long way down. Great storytelling and pictographs of your own, thanks for sharing!

 

I'm kicking myself too for not having come over to investigate another Tacoma. Shame on me. Next time!

I've been to the lava tubes twice now and not seen the beam. Finally researched the right time to go, and will try to make it by in that window next time...though really, I'll only do that if it's convenient. When there's so much to do and see in a place like the preserve, I don't want to ever really find myself waiting for hours in some place (that I wouldn't be anyway for camp, etc.) to see a ray of light. Although, I say that and realize that maybe the point is to slow down. I mean, is a ray of light any different than slowing down and enjoying the exploration of an old mine site that turns out to be cooler than I thought when I created a route?

Damn, I wish I didn't live so far away!!!

Yes, I'm with you 100% on this, and I know all those parts you linked well! Probably you missed this post which proves my agreement. (And I'm just giving you a hard time about missing the post, hahaha, I know I write too much.)

Out with the LEDs, Back to Halogen Headlights
https://www.tacomaworld.com/threads...-and-adventures.484602/page-197#post-25016090


LED lo-beams (left), OSRAM Super Bright Halogen lo-beams (right).

One other benefit I noticed on this last trip (I've just returned) where we drove through blizzard conditions for about 10 hours of darkness, was that I'd have been hosed with the LEDs. The heat generated by the Halogens was a lifesaver. Even with them, I had ice on the edges of the lenses; they'd have been completely covered if I'd still had the LEDs.

All of the Long Way series were great, I thought. I mean, the biking and adventure was fun, but I really, really enjoyed the comradery of Ewan and Charlie. It's not often you get to see famous people just being themselves, and there are many moments in those series that they are clearly just being two normal guys.

Of course, their fame is what made the trip (support, sponsorship, papers, etc.) all possible - but being on a bike in some of those areas for such a long time. Fun.

Hahaha, I was thinking about you as we drove through. I was thinking, "man, it sure would be nice to be asleep like Ben!" given that I'd been driving for ~12 hours at that point and had 8 more to go. After a full day of exploring - we were literally about to setup camp and decided we should start home instead. And in snow. You guys had a good little bit on the ground as we went through.

All rested up now, and lots of photos to process, and stories to write. And LOTS of de-icer to wash off the undercarriage of the trusty beast.

And I have this nagging decision to make about my next trip.

LOL.

I think I'll post the last part of the Mojave trip tomorrow - got some catching up to do today after a week of not being home!

 

Yep, heat is an issue driving in inclement weather. Although even halogens have trouble at times.
My father and I were driving the tow truck back to Montana after dropping off a Suburban at a shop in Sandpoint. The snow was really coming down heavy, about 6” an hour or so. I never got any faster than about 30 driving back, I would have to keep an yet on the light pattern on the road, as soon as it started to get dimmer, I would stop and clean about 4” of wet snow off the headlights. By the time we got back to the shop and pulled inside I looked and there was 8” of snow on the front end. That was a first, I have never seen snow build up like that, but the PNW spring snow is really wet and heavy, not like the powder we got over in Wyoming or up in Alaska.
Fun times, glad you guys got back ok and thanks again for a great trip write up!

 

Lol, leave it to me... trying to catch up on my own build thread somehow always turns into misguided rambling on someone else's. (And still no pictures on mine!)

 

What is the Mojave Megaphone? - Mojave #6

We'll get to the "megaphone" in a bit. Relax.

First - as you'll recall - we fell asleep on our last night in the preserve, under the stars, and in the shadow of the Granite Mountains.

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We were, however, reasonably near a paved road, and traffic continued through the night - rendering earplugs necessary for a peaceful sleep. And so, when my alarm sounded just a bit after 5:45am in the morning, I was happy to pull those puppies out of my ears and grab the camera - hoping that our little spot on the top of a rise would afford nearly 360° views of the coming sun.

Except that clouds were stacking up on the horizon.

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Still, I wandered away from the truck knowing that - as always - winds can be unpredictable. A cloudy sky now might be clear in just a few minutes. Or a break in the clouds might afford the most brilliant splash of color to streak across the sky. These were things I was ready for, as the world around me was illuminated - the Granite Mountains glowing tall for all of about 20 seconds behind the Tacoma.

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This being our last morning - and with only about half-a-day worth of itinerary before we started the long trek home - we moved slowly, @mrs.turbodb only coming out of the tent as the sun was hitting it at nearly 8:00am, a full hour after our usual departure time.

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Breakfast was - as always - a quick affair, and we were on the road in under an hour - the tent packed away dry and ready for whatever our next trip might be. We were headed west - toward what turned out to be the Mojave Trails National Monument -but what we knew as the I-40 exit to Ludlow.

Settled in the 1870s, it was named after William Ludlow of Southern Pacific Railroads - though it had no affliation with that particular line. Rather, it was initially a water stop for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, and later the southern railhead for the Tonopah and Tidewater Railroad, operated by the Pacific Coast Borax Company, hauling borax and other mining products from Death Valley and Beatty, Nevada to the longer distance Santa Fe Railway lines.

Today, it's not much more than a refueling and rest stop on the side of the highway - a couple gas stations and places to eat comprising the majority of the "town." Of those, only the Ludlow Cafe - though not original - was out of the ordinary, though clearly catering to the Route 66 historians who passed this way.

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Naturally, Ludlow itself was not the reason we'd chosen this exit. We were headed north - on Crucero Road - into the desert. Predictably, perhaps.

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Unsure if the route I'd scouted would be passable, but encouraged by the state of the road, we continued due north towards the playa of Broadwell Lake. Reports on this playa are varied - some finding it an easy drive and others encountering deep sticky mud, similar I suppose to the Soda Lake bed 50 miles north near Baker, CA. Lucky for us, the lack of recent precipitation meant a fast trip across the smooth bed - and a dramatic increase in the odds that we'd make it to the Mojave Megaphone.

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Past the playa, the well-marked road - apparently part of the Mojave Trails National Monument - undulated across alluvial fans, dipped in and out of washes, and bounced along next to the old raised rail grade of the Tonopah and Tidewater Railroad - much of the old timber slowly fading into history.

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Along this lonely stretch of road we found the most peculiar cabins. Three properties in all, they were reasonably well-kept and likely some sort of getaway or retreat for their owners. Curiosity got the better of us - as it often seems is the case - and we respectfully walked one of the properties just to see what it was all about.

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"Al's Summer Place."​

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The elusive Mojave Jackalope.​

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Directions home.​

We could see why Al kept this place - on a day like today, the temps in the high 60s°F, the sun and breeze making for a pleasant afternoon - it was just about perfect. With fire pits and gathering areas scattered around, it would have been a wonderful place to hang out with friends, discussing which direction to head off in next, when the time was right.

For us, that direction continued to be north. Now only a few miles to our destination - one not on Al's list of signs - the Mojave Megaphone.

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Perched atop a pile of granite, the "Mojave Megaphone" as it has come to be called, has been a mystery to many over the years. Theories abound as to its origin - perhaps related to the Tidewater and Tonopah Rail, or to military exercises conducted in the nearby valley; perhaps a test funnel for early rocket research or part of a siren to warn workers of impending danger.

It is - for certain - a strange shape to see out here in the middle of nowhere; but, it is none of those things.

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Leaping from rock to rock, we picked our way up, @mrs.turbodb just as curious about the device as those on the internet who speculated about this contraption.

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Here's the real story:

The "Mojave Megaphone" is - whether folks like it or not - one of the original metal monoliths, nothing more. It need not be - the ingenuity of its design enabling it to survive when others have not.

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Having thoroughly enjoyed poking around the site for half-an-hour or so, we were both getting hungry and decided that another lunch-and-hunt-for-petroglyphs for the second day in a row would be just as enjoyable as the first. So, it was back in the truck and to the general vicinity of the glyphs.

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There, @mrs.turbodb began sandwich prep while I resumed my role as "searcher." Today however, unlike my previous failure, I found the petroglyphs quickly! Scattered across half a dozen large boulders, they were not the most amazing we'd seen, but that mattered little - the thrill of finding them, always a reward in itself!

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You can clearly see here, a man designing the "sighting" system for the Mojave Megaphone.​

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Determination of the optimal size for the megaphone components.​

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Fat caterpillar, mastermind behind the Mojave Megaphone.​

Our bellies full and the time a little after noon, it was finally time for us to make our exit. We'd decided that our quickest route back to the highway would be through Afton Canyon - a path we'd travelled during our first trip on the Mojave Road, the 36" deep water raising our adrenaline levels higher than they've ever been.

This time, however, would be different!

As we turned west and pressed the skinny pedal, a trail of dust was visible in the distance. Obviously travelling slower than we were, I joked to @mrs.turbodb that I hoped the driver of the Jeep would notice us in their mirrors and pull over so we could continue on at our higher rate of speed.

But, as we pulled along side, it was time to eat my sarcasm. Who needed a well-built truck when you could do the road in a... minivan?

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In my defense, this is a rail worker, driving on the grade.​

We both got a good laugh out of the bad-ass minivan, his route along the tracks allowing us - on a sand track next to the grade - to fly by without so much as slowing down. Soon, we found ourselves at the mouth of Afton Canyon - the iconic Union Pacific trestle spanning the wide wash.

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Despite the water crossing at its western mouth, Afton Canyon is one of my favorite places around the preserve. The six mile drive up the wash - the Mojave River squeezing between striking badlands - is breathtaking. Made of soft sedimentary rocks, the canyon walls have been deeply chiseled into amazingly colorful displays of spires and gullies. This was easily the most spectacular scenery along the entire Mojave Road when we'd travelled it two years earlier, and I was itching to see it all again!

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The canyon delighted us. I made a mental note to return again - if possible, for several days - to explore the many side canyons that worked their way north and south from the main wash.

At one point, @mrs.turbodb suggested we investigate one especially enticing depression carved into the walls. I was initially reluctant - knowing we had a 12+ hour drive before reaching our stopping point for the night near Castle Crags State Park - but dang it if curiosity didn't once again get the better of me and I turned around.

Thank goodness I did.

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@mrs.turbodb named this "Happy wife, happy life falls."

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And with that, we made our final push up the canyon. Along the way, we passed a built 2nd gen Tacoma, "ACETACO" who was just starting out on a week long journey along the Mojave Road - or more likely half of that, with a few days to spare! He was out of his truck as we drove under the trestle, having spotted a bighorn sheep as he'd started down the wash.

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Greetings and safe travels exchanged, the only thing left for us to do was make our way across the infamous crossing. As we'd done the last time we were here, I parked just before the entrance to scout the situation.

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Sure enough, the intel I'd gathered a few days prior to departure was correct - this time through the crossing was going to be much less stressful - water wise, at least - than the last. You see, Union Pacific had been working on a couple of the trestles, and to make access easier, they'd filled in the crossing with 6-10" size stone, up to a level approximately 3" below the surface!

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There was no better way to describe it than "fun."

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And so - as we neared our onramp to I-15 - came the end of our week of low tire pressures. In an effort to avoid California fuel prices as long as possible, I transferred everything in the 5-gallon Scepter jerry cans to the tank while @mrs.turbodb inflated the tires to a mpg-friendly 40psi. And then we headed north.

The next morning - and with only a few few hours sleep - we set out again, the brilliant blue sky highlighting Castle Crags as we said goodbye to California for the last time this year.

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I’ve been reading elsewhere on line about the river crossing being filled in. I wonder if it’s still in that state; as much as I disapprove and in fact wonder if UP is in legal violation of environmental or other regulations, I’m also hoping they haven’t removed the rocks just yet. We’ve got a trip planned to the Mojave in a week and (good/bad, depending on one’s perspective) we’ll be taking our new AWD Transit, not the trusty Taco. I was planning to avoid anything too challenging for the ground clearance and general size of our van, but this looks easy.

 

Wow, I wish I had known the river crossing was filled in when I diverted to drive within a few hundred feet of you truck last year. I remember thinking how nice it would be to cruise through the canyon at sunset, but then remembered what a pain the ass it is to dry out the carpet after the river crossing. Coming down Rasor road was not very interesting, and absolutely stupidly bumpy -- so much so that I spilled my beverage all over the floor! At least the floor mats caught most of it, but yeah, the carpet still had to get dried out at home that night.

But hey, at least I told you what to do with your headlights. You're welcome!

 

Favorite Photos - 2020 Edition

Well, another year is in the books. It wasn't normal - not by any stretch of the imagination, but we were lucky to get a lot of great trips in despite the precarious situation that the world found ourselves enveloped by for most of the year.

As the end of the year rolls around, I recalled enjoying the process I went through for the first time last year - picking through my photos from the year, re-remembering all the great times, so I figured I'd do it again!

So let's get started.

My Top 24

I see the light.
(Exploring lava tubes in Mojave Redemption)​

Patience.
(Sunset isn't always the highlight of the evening. Sometimes you just have to wait. Mojave Redemption)​

Desert shade.
(Death Valley Connections)​

Speed.
(An F-18 races through Hidden Valley, the mountains obscured by jet wash. Death Valley Connections)​

Exhilaration.
(After this fly-by, I was on cloud nine for a couple hours. The closest I've been to one of these beasts. Death Valley Connections)​

Falling Man.
(I love the colors in this photo. Mojave East)​

Hidden Tinaja.
(The stripes, the water, the seclusion and secrecy. Mojave East)​

Making the best of a bad situation.
(@mini.turbodb Steals the Tacoma for a Seattle Safari)​

Glee.
(Owyhee Uplands)​

Remembrance.
(Owyhee Uplands)​

Snow-covered Steens Mountain.
(Owyhee Uplands)​

Sharing a moment.
(Escape to the Sierras)​

Perspective.
(Nevada Backcountry Discovery Route)​

The Mountain.
(Roaming Around Rainier)​

First light.
(Roaming Around Rainier)​

Antennas.
(Clear, Colorful, Colorado - The 3C Trip)​

Lineup.
(Clear, Colorful, Colorado - The 3C Trip)​

Solo.
(Clear, Colorful, Colorado - The 3C Trip)​

Friends.
(Clear, Colorful, Colorado - The 3C Trip)​

You coming?
(Retracing Panamint Valley's Nadeau Trail)​

Grand views.
(Retracing Panamint Valley's Nadeau Trail)​

Flexy.
(Death Valley Loose Ends)​

Night sky.
(Short Days and Long Hikes in the Mojave)​

Scale.
(Short Days and Long Hikes in the Mojave)​

My Favorite Photo

I liked this photo when I took it, but it has even more meaning to me now.

Of my dad - standing in perhaps his favorite spot on the planet. He'd planned to leave a few hours earlier, but just couldn't pull himself away - delaying his departure a few final moments with a look out over a landscape that he knew down to the very last inch. Neither of us knew at the time, but we'd never see it the same way again.

Never Forget.
(Escape to the Sierras)​

 

You make me envious, I had a strong urge to mob down to CA two weekends ago while I had a couple extra days off. Miss being close to DV

 

Tragedies in the Tablelands

Having recently visited the Volcanic Tablelands for the first time in search of ******** and ******** petroglyphs, we'd been delighted with what we'd found. So delighted, in fact, that I started researching the area for a return trip as soon as we got home! As I searched, I realized we could spend several days in the area, wandering. Additional petroglyph sites, old mines, and views - of the Sierra Mountains to the west and the White Mountains to the east - would fill our days.

That sounded great to us. Unfortunately, things had a way of working themselves out just a little differently - though we had no idea of the impending doom as we made our way south on a sunny Wednesday morning - our first trip of 2021 under way!

As we've taken to doing, we made the entire drive in one very long day, and it was well after midnight when we setup camp reasonably close to the highway so we could get an early start once the sun was up.

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It was a chilly morning, but with temps forecast to be in the low 70s°F later in the day, we knew it wouldn't be long before shorts and t-shirts would replace our jackets and cozy hats. As we got camp put away - skipping breakfast for the time being, the sun was already starting to warm things up. And boy, a definite highlight of the Tablelands are the Sierras to the west!

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It was while the truck was perched on this small rise that I noticed a winged form laying still on the side of the road - a red-tailed or coopers hawk, I was sure. Calling to @mrs.turbodb, my heart sank when I saw it was a long-eared owl. It must have been hit by a truck on the highway the night before, rigor-mortis only just staring to set in.

Even in death, striking.​

Knowing that we didn't want to just leave it laying there in the open, I gathered some branches from nearby bushes and scooped up our tragic discovery, moving it away from the road and settling it into the shade of a tree, its head oriented toward the glorious mountains.

Despite the somewhat tempered mood, it was time to move one. Our first destination was a petroglyph site known as Rosetta Stone. There's a bit of hike to get there - and we weren't even sure where there was - but I'd tried to piece together the clues I'd found in my research, and as we meandered along one of the plateaus of the Tablelands, we spotted a cave that I knew meant we'd found the right spot!

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Home, perhaps, for the artist?​

Below the cave, in a thicket of brambles, the Rosetta Stone sat - as it has for centuries - waiting to be read. What it says, we have no idea, but the markings are similar to those elsewhere in the Tablelands - a collection of hands and some concentric circles with lines radiating out.

Rosetta Stone.​

Our spirits lifted a bit after this success, we headed back to the Tacoma - a few miles between us and our next stop. To get there, we'd traverse the southern border of the Tablelands - along Chalk Bluff Road - to Highway 6, which runs up the eastern side, and then continue a little way into the White Mountains - to investigate a mine I'd spotted when researching the area.

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Chalk Bluff Road is a heavily travelled gravel road, used by rock climbers to access Happy- and Sad Boulders, and as an access road for fishing. As such, it's as corrugated as Saline Valley Road in Death Valley, and we were glad to be aired down for this part of the journey.

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Halfway along the road, we ran into a grader - likely making a final pass before winter really set in. Boy, let me tell you how nice it is to run a trail immediately after it's been graded.

Smooth bliss.​

Well, it turns out that the Southern Belle Mine - the place we'd hoped to visit - is no longer as accessible as satellite imagery may suggest. A small neighborhood has sprung up below it, the access roads becoming driveways as the land was developed. I'm sure we could have found a way through, but neither of us really wanted to push our luck - especially for something that was a bit "peripheral" to the trip in the first place, so we turned ourselves around and headed back across Highway 6. From here on out, we'd spend the rest of our time in the Tablelands!

Our first stop - along the eastern flank - was a prominent example of Bishop Tuff. Composed of the volcanic ash ejected from a vent during a volcanic eruption, the ash hot enough that it is lithified - by welding itself together as it cools - resulting in a relatively soft rock that when eroded, creates fantastic walls.

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What do I spy peaking out above the Tablelands?​

Near the sample of tuff, an old pumice mill stood tall, its conveyors, sifters, and hoppers used in mining the tuff until it became uneconomical to do so.

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We climbed around for a bit, noting that unlike many of the historic gold mills that we see - where each level and implement seems significantly specialized - the pumice mill was a series of the same sifters and shakers on each level of the mill. Clearly, the vast majority of the operation was simply sorting the material into different sizes - mostly for use in the construction industry.

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Anyhow, we didn't spend too long at the pumice mill - we both knew that what followed over the course of the next couple days was going to be way more interesting than sorting ash! And so, we headed back towards the southern end of the Tablelands - to the Fish Slough area - where after soaking in the views, we found a wonderful information sign that even had high quality, free, maps of the area!

The views - every time we looked west - were simply stupendous.​

Views. As far as the eye can see.​

I don't usually include informational signs in my write-ups. But this one led to tragedy!​

Reading the sign, and pouring over the map, I set down my camera in order to show @mrs.turbodb where we were headed. To my surprise, not only were all the roads I'd carefully mapped out present, but several points of interest and hundreds of additional roads criss-crossed the landscape. With a couple days to just wander, finding this map at the beginning of our trip was a grand, unexpected discovery, and we both climbed back into the Tacoma with smiles on our faces as we set off for our second set of petroglyphs for the day.

Tooling along for almost a quarter mile, I told @mrs.turbodb that I was especially interested in this next petroglyph site because... and then, the Tacoma went thu-thump, stopping my story mid-sentence.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

I just ran over the camera."​

I mean, there wasn't really any question. I could see it bouncing - in more and more pieces with each tumble - in the road behind us. We stopped. I walked slowly back. Yep, it was... not good.

Sad day.​

Nothing survived except the SD card and battery. My favorite lens and the body were quite clearly done for. Curious if it would still work - perhaps I could take the rest of the photos on the trip with my wide angle lens - I hopefully clicked the unbroken lens into place. Unfortunately, while the shutter worked, the exposure - and likely focus - was way off, requiring a -3EV setting just to get something that wasn't completely washed out.

Dang.

Deflated, we climbed back in the Tacoma and had a short discussion about what to do next. It seemed a waste to end the trip just because I ran over the camera - especially with such glorious conditions to explore. We could always come back - in fact, everywhere we visit seems to call us back anyway - so we carried on.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the petroglyph site I'd been so excited to see - Kitchen Rock. This was where I thought I'd find an unusual volcanic "wave" that I'd seen in a photo from Eric @ETAV8R, and which had really kicked off the planning for this trip. I'd had essentially no luck finding any information on the location, except that photos of other locations in the Tablelands didn't seem to contain the "wave."

Alas, after looking around and admiring the few glyphs that we found at the site, we found no volcanic wave and headed back to the truck.

Art of Kitchen Rock.​

White Mountains rising in the distance.​

Continuing up Fish Slough, the rest of our day would be spent exploring even more rock art - our next stop at the Chidago Canyon Petroglyphs. Much larger than the previous site - and with many more glyphs - we normally would have spent half an hour here.

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Today however, we probably only spent 10 minutes, for a couple reasons. First - of course, was the situation with the camera. Second, the fact that we hadn't found the wave - where I'd expected to find it - bothered me a bit. Obviously we couldn't do anything about the camera situation, but despite the necessary backtracking and unknown outcome, @mrs.turbodb kindly suggested that we should go back, if I wanted to look again.

So we did.

All I can say is that the wave is much smaller than I expected it to be. I'd walked right by it the first time, still distracted by running over the camera - but there it was, right out in the open, waiting to be found.

Finding the volcanic wave was the highlight of my day.​

I was surprised to find myself both excited and disappointed, when my usual reaction to finding something I'm in search of is pure glee. It was then that I began to realize how truly enjoyable the act of taking photos has become for me over the last several years.

What a change from my first trip on The De-Tour, when I was new to all this truck-based exploration and proudly told my new acquaintances that, "My Google Pixel takes amazing photos, I don't know why I'd ever need to use a dSLR." It wasn't the last naïve thing I'd say to Mike @Digiratus, Monte @Blackdawg, and Ben @m3bassman, but it may have been the first.

Looking back now, I have no idea why they didn't give me a harder time. Maybe because I was the new guy. Whatever the reason, thanks guys!

At any rate, having successfully found the wave, we set out again along the route we'd planned and soon found ourselves in a sea of boulders covered with glyphs. The Red Canyon site was even larger than Chidago Canyon, though the sheer number of petroglyphs was significantly smaller.

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As we wandered around - this area covered several acres, with paths twisting every-which-way between the boulders - I was finally able to acknowledge that I wasn't really going to have enjoy this trip in the way that I'd hoped. I think @mrs.turbodb may have known that even before I did, because when I brought it up and suggested that we change our plans, she was completely open to the idea without any hesitation.

And so, it was at that point that we decided to head west. OK, we were heading west anyway as part of our Tableland exploration, but I mean farther west - all the way to the coast of California - to visit my parents. So often - at least during the winter - we find ourselves down closer to their neck of the woods, but don't have time to stop in. There really wasn't any better time to switch things up and brighten their day!

So that's where we headed. The good news was that to reach US-395 and head west, we had to traverse the Tablelands - giving us a bit more time to enjoy the sun and dirt as we drove through the narrow walls of Red Canyon.

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But soon enough we reached Benton Crossing Road and found ourselves putting air in our tires - several days before we'd expected, but knowing that in the end, we'd have plenty of opportunities to see more of this glorious place.

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Not every trip can go exactly as planned, and I count myself lucky that so many have gone so well. Sure, a locked gate here, a detour there, and a crushed camera every now and then put a damper on things. But all-in-all, I can only consider myself lucky.

As we headed north on US-395 the weather couldn't have been nicer. Nary a gust of wind as we passed Mono Lake, it's surface glassier than I'd ever seen it.

We shall return!

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@turbodb ive been following you and lurking for a while. I normally read your trip reports on your website but started reading them here a few days ago. I’ve been missing out! I find the additional comments from your friends and you add to the stories and help fill in some clues as I add pins to my google earth “I’m going here” folder. I just wanted to say thanks and keep it up.

 

You've given me motivation to post here more much to his chagrin lol

 

The volcanic tablelands looks like it would be a very interesting place to check out.

 

Yeah, there are pros and cons to each, for sure. The photos and readability of a story from end-to-end on the web site are better, but you do miss out on some of the commentary. I recommend both!

Really though, I'm just glad you're enjoying. Not much more I can ask for than that!

"More much"? C'mon now, you can do better. You've either mixed up word order or forgotten punctuation.

There's actually quite a few cool things there in the Owens Valley, and your interest piques my interest. Perhaps a trip is in order.

Plus, stay tuned, you'll be able to see more of what we can go check out here in about a week, since I'll be out of touch for a few days with our buddy Ben.

 

Just read it how I speak, I expect better of you