AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Replacing All the Bushings

Squeaky bushings annoy a lot of people. I am not one of those people. And so, as my bushings have squeaked over the years, I've just let them do their thing - usually until I next wash the truck at which point the squeaking stops.

And so, my bushings have "lasted" for 20 years. In fact, with the exception of the bushings in the rear leaf springs - which were refreshed when I got a new leaf pack from Alcan - I think all of them are still original. Oh, and the upper control arms (UCAs) bushings have been replaced, since I installed new SPC arms (how-to).

But that leaves a lot of rubber that's been doing a great job for a lot of years, and has finally worn out.

​

• Lower control arm (LCA) bushings - After my last trip, I noticed that my LCAs were squeaking more than normal, and it felt like the alignment was out just a bit. I'd known that I wanted to replace these bushings for a while, so I already had some Strongflex Lower Control Arm Bushings from Sonoran Steel sitting in a box, ready to go.
• Front diff bushings - During my last rig review, I noticed that these were also in need of replacement. I reached out to Curtis at DuroBumps - who I should mention was awesome to deal with - and got a set of replacement Durobump Front Diff Bushings headed my direction.
• Steering rack bushings - I didn't realize I needed these until I took the truck in for an alignment and my alignment tech alerted me to the fact that the rack was all over the place when the wheel was turned. Since I have to remove the rack to replace the LCA bushings anyway, it's a great time to install some new Energy Suspension 8.10101G Steering Rack Bushings to take care of the slop.

Plus - as a bonus - Curtis sent me some DuroBumps 1st Gen Tacoma Front Bump Stops along with the diff bushings, so I figured I might as well get those installed at the same time. Did I mention that my interaction with Curtis was awesome?

To do the work, I gathered up all the tools I'd need - mostly straight forward, since working on suspension is a reasonably regular activity - and dug right in.

• from Harbor Freight - used for pressing out the old LCA bushings
• Press/Pull Sleeve Kit - used to capture the LCA (and other) bushings as they are pressed out.
• OTC 6295 Front End Service Kit - contains pitman arm puller, used to separate the LCA from the lower ball joint (LBJ).
• OTC 4518 Stinger 5-ton Bar-Type Puller/Bearing Separator Set - to support the LCA while pressing out the bushings.
• OTC 7249 Ball Joint (and U-Joint) Service Kit - to press out the steering rack bushings.
• Floor jack.
• Channellock Piers - to remove the old bump stops
• (2) 6 ton jack stands.
• Misc sockets (I recommend this set from Williams, a Snap-On brand)
  • 10mm socket - to remove the ABS sensor from the axle housing.
  • 14mm socket - to remove nuts holding brake drum to axle housing.
  • 19mm socket
  • 21mm socket - to remove lug nuts.
  • Ratchet, Extensions, as necessary.
• breaker bar
• torque wrench
• An impact wrench for lug nuts and various other tasks

​

I figured I'd start with the LCAs, so the first order of business was the removal of a bunch of parts. Always looking for the easy route, the wheels came off first, quickly followed by the 19mm bolt from the lower shock eye and the limit strap. Then, I removed the OTRE and LBJ by loosening the 22mm and 24mm castle nuts before fitting the OTC pitman arm puller to press them out . Note: one could also leave the LBJ attached to the LCA by removing the 4, 14mm bolts that secure it to the spindle, but I figured it'd be in the way during the rest of my work, so I simply pressed it out.

Keep the castle nut on there when pressing out a joint like this!​

At this point, I simply needed to remove the four alignment cam bolts in order to free up the LCAs. Simple enough except that access to the driver rear cam bolt can only be achieved by pulling the steering rack off of its mounts. Luckily it can remain connected to all the lines, but it's still a bit of a pain.

Nothing can be easy, can it?​

Of course, I needed to remove the steering rack anyway to replace it's bushings, so with 19 and 22mm sockets, I removed the four bolts securing it to the crossmember and then fanagled it away from the cam bolt so I could access it.

That's what we're looking for.​

At this point, I knew I was either going to get lucky... or not. It's not uncommon for the cam tab adjustment sleeves to get seized into the LCA bushings, requiring a cut-off wheel or sawzall in order to remove them. I hoped - with my truck living its entire life on the west coast - that rust wouldn't be an issue.

I wasn't lucky. So, out came the sawzall and some carbide tipped blades that Zane @Speedytech7 recommended. They worked a charm.​

I found that putting a bolt back in to support the LCA leg after I cut the bushing helped to hold it straight for cutting the other side.​

With the cam tab bolts and adjustment sleeves removed, I now had the LCAs in hand, and the Tacoma looked a little worse for wear. Definitely not ready to hit the trails, anyway.

The carnage.​

Victory, sort of.​

An uncommon view. For me at least.​

It was at this point that I took a closer look at the LCAs and made an uncomfortable discovery - on each of the arms, there was a small crack. Only about a centimeter long, the cracks extended from the lower shock mount where it is likely that the same forces that cause the shock tower to crack, had caused my LCAs to start to crack. (see Protecting the Front Shock Towers with Limit Straps)

Well dang!​

Some quick work with the welder got things looking better.​

There are several ways to remove the bushings from the LCAs. Because it's cheap and doesn't require any special tools, a lot of folks use a jack between the two legs of the LCA to press out the bushings. In fact, this is how I'd helped to remove the bushings from Mike @Digiratus LCAs a couple years earlier.

The risk here is that if the bushings are seized into the LCAs, the pressure needed to push them out can actually bend the arms - something I'd rather not risk. So, I decided to use the 20-ton press and some press sleeves to push the bushings out of the LCA - eliminating the risk since there's never any force pushing the legs of the LCA apart.

As always, the right tools make for an easy job. So much easier than using a bottle jack.​

With a bit of heat and penetrating oil, this pressing worked like a charm and before long I was cleaning out the inside surfaces of the LCAs with some steel wool in preparation for the Strongflex Bushings I'd be installing.

However, I wasn't quite ready to install bushings just yet. Brett @Squeaky Penguin had suggested that while I was doing all this work to the LCAs, that I should drill and tap for some grease zerks to reduce squeaking in the future. As I mentioned earlier, squeaking doesn't really bother me all that much, but with not much extra work, I figured I might as well take his (good) advice. After all, who doesn't love a good grease zerk?! So I picked up a few M8x1.0 zerks and set to work.

Tapping for some zerks!​

There are really three options when replacing LCA bushings on a 1st gen Tacoma - or, I suppose, a 3rd gen 4Runner:

• Completely new LCAs. This is how Toyota wants you to do it, since they don't sell replacement bushings. But dang, OEM Toyota LCAs are expensive (L: 48069-35120 | R: 48068-35120), if all you need are bushings. Of course, you can always get aftermarket LCAs, which people seem to have reasonably good lucky with and are much less expensive (L: Left | R: Right).
• Whiteline LCA bushings. Lots of folks go this route, and the Whitelines install very similarly to the OEM bushings - rubber inside of a metal sleeve that presses into the LCA. These work well, but have the possible drawback of the metal sleeve rusting into the LCA just like the OEM sleeves do.
• Strongflex Polyurethane LCA bushings. These are made of a higher performing polyurethane rather than rubber, but the real reason I chose to go this route was because the poly bushings insert directly into the LCAs, with no pressing in of a metal sleeve. This should - in theory anyway - make future replacement a piece of cake. I will of course, keep an eye on them and report back.

Everything ready to go, I spread some grease on the new bushings and pushed them into place. Easy peasy.

Pressing in the new bling.​

And, while I had the LCAs out of the truck, I figured there was no better time than the present to install the DuroBump front bump stops - a very straight forward process. All I needed to do was use a bit of penetrating oil on the old bumps before removing them with some channel-lock pliers and cleaning off the surface of the lower control arm.

Then, I used the supplied flange bolts and a dab of the supplied Loctite (Blue 242) with my 14mm socket to install the new bump stops in place, snugging them up close enough to the 15-18 ft-lbs that I didn't feel a need to pull out the torque wrench.

Hopefully these DuroBumps will give my aging rear end a cushy ride ​

All that was left was re-installation of the LCAs!

Regardless of whether the cam sleeves and bolts removed easily or needed to be cut out, I'd gone ahead an purchased all new hardware for the reinstallation. This consists of four of each of the following parts, which make up a nice new hardware sandwich:

• Toyota OEM Alignment Cam Sleeve (48409-35050)
• Toyota OEM Alignment Cam Nut (48452-35020)
• Toyota OEM Alignment Cam Bolt (90080-11283)

Mmmm, hardware sandwich.​

I figured that after 20 years, it was cheap insurance to make the next removal of these parts easier since even if the old ones are removable this time, they have a lot of wear and tear on them and any rust is only going to get worse with age. New hardware - and of course, a little antiseize - will give the best chance for future success!

Not an easy process to get here, but one set of bushings done!​

All that was left then was to reinstall everything I'd unbolted from the LCA and torque things to spec:

• LBJ.
• Lower shock mount.
• Limit strap (aftermarket).
• Alignment Cam Bolts.

Next, it was time to deal with the steering rack that was still hanging out under the truck. The process here was a little easier than the LCA bushings, as there are no metal sleeves that secure the bushings in the rack, so I simply pressed the old bushings out using the C-clamp in the OTC 7249 Ball Joint (and U-Joint) Service Kit and cleaned out the races in preparation for the new bushings.

A much easier process than the LCA bushings.​

One thing to be aware of when replacing the steering rack bushings is that 1st gen Tacomas have two different bushing configurations depending on the model year - with the change happening around the 2000 model. Earlier trucks - it seems - use a smaller diameter bolt to secure the rack (which is the same across all years) to the frame, while later years use a larger diameter. Luckily, the good folks at Energy Suspension have included sleeves for both in their kit, as long as you purchase the kit for the 2000 model year (black | red), regardless of the actual year of your 1st gen Tacoma.

Old vs. New.​

Like the LCA bushings, these new bushings simply push in to the steering rack, and before long everything was nicely buttoned back up on the Tacoma.

Second set of bushings replaced. Check.​

My last order of business on the day was to install the new DuroBump bushings for the front diff. I had no idea if this would go as smoothly as the front bump stops, but the instructions on the web site showed fire, so I was excited.

The process did turn out to be both fun and straight forward. Rather than install the bushings in place, the first step is to disconnect the brackets that house the bushings from the diff itself. This is done via three (3) 19mm bolts on the driver side, and two (2) 19mm bolts on the passenger side. Then, simply remove the two 19mm bolts that secure the brackets to the front crossmember.

Driver side.​

Passenger side.​

Toyota sells these brackets with the bushings installed for $250. Yikes!​

With the brackets removed, the next order of business is to remove the rubber from the old bushings. I say rubber because the metal sleeve from the old bushing needs to stay in place inside the bracket - it will be re-used with the replacement DuroBump bushings.

To remove the rubber, I used a torch to heat the bracket around the bushing until it started to make audible crackle and pop sounds. At this point, I was able to push out the bushing and clean out the inside of the metal sleeve with some steel wool.

Fire as a tool? Yes please!​

After the brackets cooled, I sprayed on a quick coat of primer and paint before pressing the new bushings into place using a piece of wood to protect the rubber as it squeezed into the sleeve.

A little soap and they slide in easily.​

And with that, all I needed to do was reinstall the brackets to the diff. Torque specs here were:

• Five (5) 19mm bolts securing brackets to diff: 116 ft-lbs
• Two (2) 19mm bolts securing brackets to frame: 101 ft-lbs

Back in and ready for years of service.​

And with that, I've refreshed a whole bunch of the rubber on the front of my truck. Will the new stuff last 20 years like the originals? I wish that were the case, but I suspect that I'm a little harder on them now than I was for the first 17 years of the Tacoma's existence so I'm really just rooting for five years or so.

Oh, and I need an alignment!

Well, that ( / \ )looks a little wonky!​

Looking to do this work yourself? Here are Step-by-Step guides with lots of photos, the parts needed (with links), and tools you'll use:


Step-by-Step Lower Control Arm Bushing Replacement on a 1st Gen Tacoma (or 3rd Gen 4Runner)

Step-by-Step Steering Rack Bushing Replacement on a 1st Gen Tacoma (or 3rd Gen 4Runner)

Step-by-Step Front Diff Bushing Replacement

 

I don’t remember if I mentioned, the Hendy Iron Works is part of Northrop Grumman these days. They make parts for submarines. Tours at their museum haven’t been available for some time (clearance). Supposedly, employees can visit.

The museum is in Sunnyvale and one of the stamp mills, in a park a block or two away.

 

I suppose I like this b/c it is interesting information. I am not, however, sure why you are telling it to me, .

 

Nice work! Get yourself some 90degree zerks though to make greasing them easier.

 

As I was scrolling down the page, I saw the Joshua Hendy Ironworks reference. I thought you might be interested in knowing it still exists. Sort of.

 

You know, I thought I was just following your lead, but I see now that it was the perspective of the photo I was looking at. The 90* are a good idea. Thanks!

Ahh, gotcha. The name didn't ring a bell in your first post, but now I know exactly what you're talking about. Cool.

 

Kind of excited to hear how it drives after the alignment. Replacing every rubber bushing was like my first order of business on the '77 Celica I may eventually get back on the road. It has a bunch on the rear end as well, and some had to be burned out.

 

I both love and hate your thread.

I've got ~165k on my 2011 and have been contemplating doing a refresh up front for anything that has rubber....both bushings and ball joints. This latest post is not helping me feel like I should procrastinate it....though I don't have a 20T shop press or the room in the garage to get one. Oh, but I also don't have the OEM LCAs either....I swapped those out "in favor" of the much inferior Duralast LCAs...a mistake that I won't make again.

 

We just call it Hendy Ironworks. For a time, I lived behind the place. You would never realize it’s history from the work that happens there today.

 

I did this last year. What a difference it makes.

 

Thanks for the reply, did not see it until today Jun 1, 2021
80D looks like what I want.

 

Wandering into the Unknown - Owyhee West #1
Part of the Owyhee West (May 2021) trip.

There aren't many people who have discovered the joys of the Owyhee Canyonlands. Nestled in the remote, southeastern corner of Oregon, the roads that crisscross this remote stretch of desert hold many wonderful secrets to explore for those who do venture into the folds of the landscape. Through it all, the Owyhee River runs south-to-north, carving the Grand Canyon of Oregon - thousands of feet down - through the volcanic surface.

Nearly all explorations in Owyhee region start east of the river - that is, after all, where the most well-known landmarks lay. In fact, I know only one person who has ventured west - at least, north of Rome Station - and like everyone else, we've never never been. Until now.

Keen to find out what the heck was over there, we started our adventure where I'd ended my last trip to Owyhee - at the Pillars of Rome - so @mrs.turbodb could see them as well.

The Pillars of Rome were a bucket list item for us. While they are beautiful, they are a bit underwhelming.​

From the Pillars, we headed north. Having already made a 10-hour drive to get here, our destination for the night was a nostalgic one - the place where @mrs.turbodb and I had camped on our first trip together, several years earlier - Chalk Basin.

Headed north.​

Just below the surface, the volcanic history of this area is still apparent.​

As we wound our way forward, the sun seemed to accelerate toward the horizon. This was fine with us - the colors splayed across the landscape always more dramatic as the long rays pass through the atmosphere. We weren't the only ones enjoying the warm breeze - a herd of wild horses stood tall, taking in the views as well.

Some of the healthiest looking horses we've seen.​

Golden rays.​

It was only a few more minutes before the sun was below the horizon, its rays now painting the sky above as shadows spread across the ground below.

Pastel splash.​

We still had a few more miles to cover before reaching camp, but knowing where it was, we weren't at all worried. Before long we were perched above Chalk Basin, the warm wind whipping at the tent, as we climbed into bed, eager to see what the next two days had in store.

A familiar spot.​

The Following Day

Unaware that my phone had synchronized itself with Mountain Time instead of Pacific (Real) Time, my alarm woke us to the pitch black of 4:30am. Disoriented, we wiggled our way down under the covers for another hour of shut-eye before the sun started to make itself known along the horizon.

If the moon is up, it's still night - right?​

Silhouette.​

Unsure how full our next several days would be, @mrs.turbodb knew I'd want to get an early start. So, rather than climbing back into the tent after a few photos, she climbed down the ladder and got our breakfast going as I put the tent away. And then we had a decision to make - hike Chalk Basin or get on the road to other, new destinations?

Usually we opt for new, but - what with the memories of our previous trip and an idea for an easier route - today we decided that hiking out to Yellow Knoll and Yellow Dome were worth it. We set out across the desert.

Unfortunately, the sun was in exactly the wrong place to capture Chalk Basin - the major features all in deep shadow - but it was nice getting out and walking. We wove our way through the sage to the edge of the canyon before retracing our steps and deciding that we'd take the road down into the basin, since we were here anyway™.

End of the road. A camp site for the future!​

Retracing our steps past Painted Cliffs.​

With Chalk Basin behind us, we were officially into the unknown as we headed north on Tub Springs Road. I must admit, I was slightly nervous, for two reasons: first, there is so little information about this area available online that I had no idea if we'd see anything worthwhile. Second, I had no idea what sort of condition the roads were in, and even whether some of them still existed. If there was nothing to see, or if we were constantly backtracking on terrible roads, neither I nor my co-pilot were going to be happy campers.

Oh please let there be something good.​

An hour later, we'd seen nothing but the rolling fields. At least they were green - given the time of year - but so far our exploration was best described as bumpy and boring. Then, we came to an overlook. I'd actually marked this on our GPS as a possible camp site, though there was no way it would have worked out timing wise, the night before. Looking down on Chalk Basin, I was reminded that this is how the Owyhee area is - bland on the surface, but with a bit of digging... fantastic!

A grand view of Chalk Basin.​

We admired the view for a few minutes before climbing back in the Tacoma and heading back the way we'd come - this was a short spur on an otherwise northerly drive we had planned for the day. It was a drive that would remind us of the Oregon BDR (a Backcountry Disocvery Route) - @mrs.turbodb hopping out more often than she'd probably prefer to open gates as we we bumped along poorly graded roads through sagebrush.

Good gate ediquette.​

It's not that the landscape wasn't beautiful in spots - it was spring after all. Yellow, pink, red, and purple flowers dotted our surroundings. Green hillsides rose into the distance. Cows pooping everywhere. So yeah, beautiful in spots.

Spring is here!​

Looking past the poopy exterior, there's a beautiful fillet in there somewhere. ​

Ultimately, our goal was to make it down to the river. It would be our first time accessing it from the west, and I hoped that we could do so via the **************. If we could, this would spit us out at an overlook above the Owyhee River Rock Dam, a location I'd hiked to on my previous trip, and that I knew @mrs.turbodb would enjoy.

Our fingers were crossed as we headed down into the canyon.​

Alas, it was not to be, the road ending near the old ranch house, which was eagerly explored and quite fascinating.

Home sweet home.​

Clearly still in use, at times.​

There are many pronghorn in the area, though some luckier than others, apparently.​

​

Look at that rack!

Though presently unoccupied by humans, the ************** was crawling with life - of the cold blooded variety. A fat western fence lizard and extremely bold beetle were only two of the creatures roaming the land. A nearby pond was full of aquatic specimens, and would have been fun to cast into, I'm sure!

That is a 6" wide board this enormous blue bellied lizard is straddling.​

If this is a dung beetle, he's in the right spot, fo shizzle.​

Exploration of the ranch completed - and with no way to the water - we once again retraced our steps, the road north eventually becoming more of a suggestion than anything official.

We are, I assure you, on the trail.​

It was another couple hours - as we made our way along the Turner and Willow Springs Roads - of monotony. As a suggestion, the road here was in tough shape and we rarely reached speeds over 10mph. So little presented itself that we eventually took a photo of the only variance in the landscape.

Look, it's not sagebrush! ​

Eventually we once again reached the edge of the canyon and started down to Hole in the Ground. The homestead on the east side was where I'd begun my hike to the rock dam, and it was cool enough that I was excited for @mrs.turbodb to see it, even from the opposite side of the river. For now though, we reveled in the wildflowers that coverd the hillside as we began our descent.

A blanket of yellow.​

The Owyhee Plateau does an amazing job of hiding the spectacular interior of the canyon until you are right up on it.​

Six miles and some 40 minutes later we found ourselves nearing the bottom. Both due to road conditions and the views outside the Tacoma, it was not a fast descent. It was also much warmer here - some 3000' feet lower than we'd started - and we were both hungry. So, rather than drive the remaining couple of miles to Hole in the Ground, we found a lone tree on the river and deployed our chairs in its shade. It was lunch time.

In the distance, red roofs betray the existance of Hole in the Ground.​

The perfect spot for lunch.​

Our food for this trip was more mundane than our usual easy-but-still-interesting fare. We'd brought only PB&J sandwhiches as the main course for lunch, which we scarfed down with potato chips, an apple, and copious amounts of water as the Owyhee River thundered by just a few feet away.

Our stomachs satisfied, I wandered around a bit as @mrs.turbodb got things stowed back into the boxes, and to my delight I stumbled upon a couple rocks covered in petroglyphs! These weren't the elaborate panels we've seen in other locations, but finding them completely by accident was thrilling in itself.

Notice the older glyphs to the left which are nearly invisible due to being re-patinaed.​

What does it mean?​

We hopped around for several more minutes, our hopes high that we'd find more art. We didn't, and eventually the heat drove us back to the comfort of the Tacoma's A/C as we headed south - upstream - towards Hole in the Ground.

The last couple miles to Hole in the Ground.​

From here, the homestead still appears nearly habitable. I assure you, it is not.​

As with our first two stops, Hole in the Ground is at the end of a road. Well, in the late summer if the river is low enough, one might be able to ford it in spots and continue up the other side of the canyon, but for anyone staying on the west side - like us - the only way out is to climb back up the canyon wall in order to head north.

And that'd been our plan - as I'd mapped it out - until we noticed a trail that split off from ours and seemed to head down toward Owyhee Road and the old William Griffith Ranch. Actually, we had no idea about the William Griffith as we turned east - I just wanted to get down to a road along the river that appeared to terminate near the Birch Creek Ranch - another spot I'd visited during my more easterly explorations.

Hope this goes through.​

Worthwhile views, even if we have to turn around.​

We're going to make it!​

Once we realized that William Griffith Ranch Road was going to get us to the river, we were quite excited. Where our route previously had required backtracking and a 70-mile out-and-back to reach this spot, our five mile shortcut meant that we stood a chance of making this section of trail into a through-trail, exiting out along the river - if everything went to plan.

Spoiler alert: Never count on everything going to plan.

For now though, we found ourselves at a ranch we'd not even known existed, and we were out of the truck exploring. This was the old Griffith place.

An old dugout, built from quarried stone.​

Apparently built around 1912.​

An old sign from the U.S. Bureau of Reclaimation that we found on site gave us a bit of the history behind this place.

State of the art in 1927. Today's ranchers use strikingly similar equipment.​

A lot of work went into this place. Imagine the hours it took to chisel each of those blocks.​

A stone corral.​

It was just after 3:00pm when we headed upstream from the Griffith place towards Birch Creek Ranch. Once again, this was a place I wanted to show off to @mrs.turbodb, and I knew that the geology along this stretch of river was spectacular, which was a bonus. Of course, there was also a little part of me that just wanted to see if the road would go through, if I'm being 100% up front about everything!

Hard to complain about views like this!​

Before long, we reached a fork in the road. To our left, a spur led to a river crossing that I knew from my previous visit was impassable - the river was just too high for anyone with any sense to make it through. Were we to have made it, we'd find ourselves at the location I'd camped, and one I'd highly recommend to anyone who finds themselves near Birch Creek Ranch as evening is approaching.

Whites, yellows, and reds abound in the Owyhees.​

To our right, the road continued south and in the hopes that we'd catch a glimpse of the ranch and some of the scenery around it, that's the route we followed. Soon however, the already narrow road narrowed further. I stopped the truck to walk a rather narrow section that was likely passable, but that we'd have to back up on if there wasn't a turnaround. It was a good thing too, because it soon became apparent that only ATVs could travel the remainder of this trail - rock slides and erosion taking their toll over the years.

Following the trail on foot, I got as far as the old water wheel before heading back and letting @mrs.turbodb know that we'd reached the end of our trail.

​

A different perspective (than I'd gotten last time).​

It was at this point that we had a decision to make - where we were going to find camp. It was still relatively early - only 3:30pm - but the swealtering temps, long drive the day before, and the bumpy roads had both of us a little tired and grumpy. Yes, we too get grumpy, even in the beauty of nature.

In addition to our grumpiness, the shortcut we'd found meant that we were way ahead of schedule - or so we belived at this point - so there wasn't really any reason to push forward or rush.

And finally, a mile or so back, we'd passed an open meadow with some tremendous views, so I suggested that we find a good spot to camp there and call it a day. In no time, we were set up under some of the most striking cliffs we'd seen all day, and after a quick peek at the river, we climbed into the tent for a much needed nap.

What a lucky spot to find.​

The calm before the storm.​

Naps are the best, especially somewhere like this.​

I think we relaxed for nearly three hours, and boy was it worth it. It was 7:00pm when we finally climbed out of the tent, the temperatures still warm but now more plesant than oppressing. @mrs.turbodb commented on the ominous clouds in the distance. I reassured her that the weather report was quite clear that no rain was in our future.

Famous last words.

We made taco-rittos - these are, as regular readers may recall, burritos that I call tacos because of how they are folded - out of the back of the truck as the sun continued to settle along the horizon. As it did, the stormy coulds made for some seriously strange light and then suddenly - FLASH, BANG!

Lightning.

"Don't worry, it's not going to rain." -Dan​

We watched the lightning dance over the colorful cliffs for a good 30 minutes as the sun streamed in from the west. Yellows and oranges from the sun and ground contrasted spectacularly with the purples and blues in the sky. It was one of the most memorable evenings I've had on the trail.

Nature's fireworks. The best finale.​

And then the rain started. Big drops, infrequent at first. I was incredulous and @mrs.turbodb gave me that, "I told you so," look that might also imply a little bit of "you dummy for not listening to me." What can I say but guilty as charged.

In the near distance we could see that the rain was falling harder and faster and making its way toward us. Like rats, we scurried into the tent as the downpour reached camp. With more confidence than I felt, I reassured @mrs.turbodb that this rain wouldn't be a problem at all. Because, you know, it's not like this place is known for completely impassable, muddy, sticky, gooey, clay when the roads get wet.

Oh, wait. But we'd just have to deal with that tomorrow.

 

Some Luck and a Bit of Misfortune - Owyhee West #2
Part of the Owyhee West (May 2021) trip.

The lightning stopped not long after we climbed into the tent, but the wind picked up and the torrential rain poured down, on-and-off, until about 4:00am. Luckily for us, the downpours never lasted more than a few minutes, and when I climbed down out of the tent around 6:30am, the ground was completely dry, as was the tent.

There would be no muddy roads for us, we were lucky!

The wind had - however - meant that neither of us got a great night sleep, so I wandered off for a hike while @mrs.turbodb got a little more shut eye. Curious about some volcanic pillars we saw at the top of the canyon to the west of camp, I headed up the hillside to get a closer look, our camp shrinking below.

What a perfect spot we'd found!​

From below, the palisade looked so well formed - tall pillars stretching toward the sky. Up close however, they were much harder to make out - appearing almost as a jumble of rocks, rather than the columns of basalt that they were. Still, they contained many nooks and cranies, now the homes of countless desert animals, so were an interesting destination to be sure.

Much less uniform up close.​

And, across the canyon, I spotted something equally intriguing - at least, for someone such as myself . A road I'd gotten wind of after one of my previous excursions on the east side, but hadn't yet had a chance to investigate beyond Google Earth - the road to the Christine Marie Mine!

Looks legit.​

A little less sure that I wanted to drive that road solo now that I'd seen it, I headed back to camp to find @mrs.turbodb already prepping breakfast. I asked her if she'd seen me up on the hillside, and she just laughed a bit as she looked at my clothing: camo cargo pants and a light grey sweatshirt. I was hard to see even 50 feet away!

Even cloudy, my return to camp was awesome.​

By the time we ate breakfast and put away camp, it was nearly 9:00am when we finally headed north on Owyhee Road. It was a couple hours later than our usual departure time, but the relaxed morning was a nice indulgence and the fact that we'd found a shortcut the previous day meant that we were feeling good about our schedule today.

Headed out, under a bluing sky.​

Back past the William Griffith Ranch, we stopped for a quick investigation of the thatched shed - a structure I'd somehow neglected to investigate the previous afteroon. It was amazing to me that it'd held up so well after all these years - remember, this ranch was purchased (and last used) in 1927.

Aged well.​

With that, we continued north, our fingers crossed that Owyhee Road would continue along the bank of the river for some 20 miles or more - past the Morcom Ranch and eventually out past the Owyhee Reservoir.

A more interesting route than the monochromatic green of the plateau.​

We discovered many geodetic markers over the course of this trip, likely - as @mrs.turbodb suggested - the result of surveys for the Owyhee Reservoir.​

Initially several hundred feet from the river in a wider portion of the canyon, the road was soon squeezed between the narrowing canyon walls and the rushing water below. On the uphill side, orange outcroppings rose high in the air, contrasting fabulously with the sky and clouds.

Is this considered an arch?​

And then, as we turned a corner - and perhaps only a couple miles into our day's journey - I stopped the Tacoma and looked over at my copilot. "I think I'm going to walk this," I said - the road narrowing as the scree field encroached upon it, and erosion continued to eat away at the downhill side.

As I did, the first hundred feet or so were passable. I'd initially been worried about a large boulder that'd rolled down the hill and blocked part of the road, but I was pretty sure that with careful tire placement, I could climb up and over it in order to continue on. It was further - a thousand feet or so ahead - that I realized was going to force us to retrace our steps all the way out of the canyon. Here, the road was nothing more than a hiking trail - even an ATV would have difficulty on this section now.

I am standing in the "road," which skirts just to the left of the point of rock. At 30" wide, I don't think the Tacoma is going to make it.​

As I walked back to the truck I couldn't help but feel a little deflated. All that time we'd saved in finding this route was lost - our only option now to climb back to the rim of the canyon. Still, looking back now, it's important to rememeber how lucky we were that the rain didn't leave the roads impassable, or we might have found ourselves confined to the area for a couple days while things dried out!

Gaining elevation on our way out. Views of Red Bluff.​

Our route may have been longer, but it wasn't without its highlights.​

Cheer up, explorers, it's spring!​

Eventually we were back on the plateau and making our way along road that were - thankfully - better than the day before. As we stopped for one of the many gates, I took a closer look at my offline maps and discovered a road that might allow us another shortcut if it went through. Thing was, the maps appeared to show two roads that nearly went through, but were connected by a short segment of questionable trail.

Can't hurt to give it a try. Not like it appears to drop off a cliff or anything based on the topo lines. ​

Hopefully this route would once again save us a good number of miles and a couple hours of daylight, dropping us down to Owyhee Road, just a few miles north of the impassable segment where we'd been forced to turn around. A final gate was all that stood between us and ... the hope that the trail went through!

Perched on the edge.​

Initially steep, the road plunged down the canyon wall. The elements had taken a toll here - ruts deep along the narrow trail. As with other narrow sections, I'd gotten out to walk part of this one before proceeding, but the road was so steep that I'd only scouted to a location where I felt I could turn around if neccesary, hoping that once we made it to that point, we'd be able to see the rest of the trail.

To our north and west, the Owyhee Badlands stretched out before us.​

Watching the GPS as closely as the road, I think we were both a little relieved when we realized that we were going to make it - the roads did connect! Smiles on our faces, we continued down toward Red Butte and the bottom of the canyon.

Red Butte, looking at little green in the spring.​

Though the road was easily passable for us, it wasn't without its...interesting spots for others. We found numerous car parts along the way.​

By 12:30pm, we'd reached Owyhee Road as it snaked its way alongside the river. Morcom Ranch was less than a mile to our south, and as we headed that direction, there was no push-back when I suggested that perhaps we should eat lunch once we arrived.

You see, I'd assumed that Morcom Ranch would be like the others we'd run into so far this trip - either well maintained, or at the very least interesting from a historical perspective. It was, neither.

Only a shed of a house remains.​

Tacky.​

As we pulled up, the reason for the condition of the place was already obvious: this spot was clearly trafficked by orders of magnitude more people than anywhere else we'd been so far. The roads were well graded, and like many areas under the juristiction of the BLM, UTV owners had obviously felt the need to climb every hill and cut every corner - there were tracks everywhere.

So, it was back into the Tacoma and we headed further south - to find a spot on the river that was a tad more to our liking and to see how far north the morning's segment of impassable trail extended.

We found our lunch spot, first.

More our style.​

With the partly sunny skies, lunch was a much more pleasant affair than it'd been the day before in 90+°F heat. We ate our sandwiches and chips to the chirping of swallows as they flew in and out of their mud nests on the opposite shore.

We found the end of the road about a mile further upstream, where it once again got narrow and became an ATV trail before a single-track path. In all, probabably only a quarter- to half-mile was impassable, but it was enough.

We passed a dugout - more like a bunker - on our way to the end of the road.​

Dramatic ending.​

Ultimately, as I walked the narrow section, I realized that this impassable stretch was a blessing. The ranches, petroglyphs, and peacefully pristine meadows we'd visited the day before would surely have been overrun - as was Morcom Ranch - had the road gone through. What I'd thought of as misfortuned at the time we'd turned around was itself, a little lucky!

A smile on my face, I headed back to the Tacoma and we set off to the north. We were once again way ahead of schedule, so a couple stops along the way - first for an old hay baler, then for a nice shot of Red Butte - were no problem at all.

Memories of decades past.​

Red Butte dominated the landscape.​

For the next several miles, we'd follow Dry Creek Road as it wound north between Red Butte and the Owyhee Badlands. Our ultimate destination was Red Butte Canyon, and I'd hoped that we could take a back route into the area - that is, if the trail still existed.

It didn't, but I'd suspected that to be the case when I'd traced the route in Google Earth, and so had planned an alternate route. It was slightly longer and would require a bit of out-and-back, but it would get us where we were going, and that's all that really mattered.

Plus, it turns out that as we headed out to *************** and ultimately Red Butte Canyon via this route, the grassy landscape was extremely pleasant - surely nicer than the faded, rocky, road that I'd planned originally.

​

A carefully cowfully manicured meadow.​

We arrived at *************** right around 2:30pm, and though there were signs of recent habitation, a notebook with a log of days spent in the cabin clearly indicated that no one was currently on-site. Like the **************, this cabin was in great shape - and we looked around for only a short time, as respectfully as possible.

​

The sight that welcomed us. It seems there are always lots of matress springs, no matter where we go. Some of the OSB used for the walls of this cabin were stamped with a date less than 9 months old.​

Quite a nice little place, but could use a cow or two - to manicure the lawn.​

We saw several cows on this trip - some as many as 75 miles south - that bore this brand.​

Well, that explains the bed frames and springs. A nice setup.​

Seemed to be working, and we were careful to do our part.​

Back to our trusty steed.​

From the cabin, it was but a few miles to Red Butte Canyon and the end of the road - at the top of a steep descent into the canyon. We dismounted and grabbed our water, and set off down the path to see if the interesting landscape I'd found in satelite imagery translated to something worthwhile on the ground.

Yes, I left it in gear as we walked away.​

Nice to be on foot, headed into the canyon.​

It turns out there wasn't much in Red Butte Canyon. At the time, I kicked myself a bit for not doing a bit more research to better understand the "point" of the road that led to this spot. Perhaps if we walked a little further, or turned up a fold in the badlands, or knew where to look for some special stone... Perhaps then, I thought, a view or motherlode would reveal itself, and we would have our answer.

However, upon returning to civilization, I had another look at the satelite. It turns out that there wasn't - as far as I can tell - some magical place we were suppossed to find. Rather, we were in the middle of the magic, our perspective at the bottom of the canyon such that we couldn't fully realize what was better seen from the air.

Not that the view on the ground was all bad either!

Rainbow of paintbrush.​

So, it was a short hike - maybe 30 minutes or so - before we were back in the Tacoma, once again glad for the A/C as the afternoon sun beat down on the terrain. We'd covered nearly everything I'd planned, and it was time to make a decision: should we head out to the west - eventually exiting the Owyhee's near Harper, or venture onward to the north - looking for a route that connected to another set of trails I'd assumed we wouldn't have time for on this trip?

So far ahead of schedule - and with plenty of fuel - the unknown route to the north won out, and after a short detour to Eddy's Place (historical) and Cow Creek Spring, we turned north.

All we found at Eddy's Place and Cow Creek Spring. Its left front leg burried in mud up to its chest, it was unable to free itself; then nature took over.​

It turns out that the trip north was significantly easier than we'd expected. Deadmans Gulch and then Twin Spring Road were nicely graded and heavily travelled. The views weren't as great as those we'd had next to the river, but they were still much more interesting than the top of the plateau.

Much more pleasant travel when the road is more than a suggestion.​

Life blood of the desert, not long for this world.​

Right around 5:00pm, we found ourselves - according to a BLM sign - 28 miles from Nyssa, at a spot with a nice view of Red Butte. Having enjoyed our early arrival in camp the afternoon before, I suggested we do the same this evening, though ideally without the rain. There was no argument from the passenger seat, and we set about setting up.

Well then, that's nice.​

Much as we had the evening before, a nap preceeded dinner, and as the sun was casting longer and longer rays over the landscape, we munched on taco-rritos in the wind shadow of the tent.

Late afternoon.​

Early evening.​

Tired from our naps and stuffing our faces with food, the only thing left to do was crawl into bed before the last of the evening light left the sky. As wind battered the tent - it was one of the windiest nights we've had in a long while - we drifted off to sleep.

The Last Day

I was up at 6:30am, and @mrs.turbodb was up not long after. Where we'd lazied around a bit the previous morning, we had no such luxury on this - the last day of our trip. Not only did we want to make it all the way home, but we wanted to check out one final place I'd marked on my maps.

But for the direction of shadows, strikingly similar to late afternoon.​

Continuing north on Twin Spring Road, an interesting outcropping pierced the rolling hills to our west. Zooming in on the tablet, @mrs.turbodb found the name - Negro Rock - and I couldn't believe it. I'd stumbled on Negro Rock in my pre-trip research as an interesting place to visit, but I'd never been able to pinpoint it on a map. And then here we were, driving right by!

Negro Rock, marked for future exploration.​

Not long after, we approached our morning's destination - Haystack Rock - from the north. Rockhounds love this place - for the jasper and agates that can sometimes be found, but we were here solely for the views.

Aptly named, I'd say.​

The sides are steeper than they appear.​

Navigating our way to the base of the mountain, I hadn't planned to summit Haystack Rock until we got out of the truck and I took my first look up. At that point, the challenge was on as I searched for - and eventually found - a route to the top.

I bet there's a great camp site out there for next time. ​

And with that, we made our way down - always a sketchier proposition than climbing up, it seems - and followed Mitchell Butte Road to pavement and the sleepy little town of Nyssa.

Back to civilization.​

Like many, this trip didn't go entirely as planned - but as often seems to be the case, there's always reason to return!

 

Your post sent me on a long and winding road down the Owyhee River this morning. Thanks, Dan!

 

Seeing the COVID remark has me with mixed feelings. I am not a fan of marking historic landmarks but in this instance, it’s oddly appropriate. No, it’s still not right but a sort of historical comment that makes sense. At least one most modern visitors will understand.

 

In real life? If so, Bravo!

Yeah, I know what you mean. I'd still prefer it wasn't there, but perhaps that's because I know it was likely left by someone who doesn't really understand the leave no trace principles (obviously).

Interestingly, we are recently back from another trip to Utah, where we were checking out some of the amazing ruins and rock art on Cedar Mesa. Some of the sites have the (expected) Native American artifacts, but also have some settler/rancher marks as well (names, mostly). The BLM/US Dept of Interior paperwork at some of those same sites (usually in an out-of-the-way ammo box that's a bit like a geocache), contained an interesting bit of information that I hadn't seen before:

and at another site:


​

I still don't plan to go inscribing my name at every location I visit... (well, I won't be doing it anywhere)... But it's food for thought, at the very least.

 

Oh heck no I had to work! Just on paper maps, gaia, google earth, etc. I may head down there after july 4th, on my way to utah. You may have seen this, but this is a pretty cool blog.
https://www.owyheemarginalia.com/archeology/

 

Sometimes just getting out of bed can be a great adventure....

 

Awesome stuff. You're challenging me to re-plan our Oregon trip next month.

Would you mind sharing your general approach for the lightning shots? Those are some beautiful pictures!

 

LOL, well, I could always hope you got out there, hahaha!

That's a pretty cool site. I only skimmed it so far, but I saved it for reading later. I always love learning the history of these places, and it seems like that guy has done quite a bit of reasearch (and has history there himself). Thanks for sharing!

Man, isn't that the truth. My back has been killing me the last couple weeks after 2 days of 12+hours driving in my (now wearing out) Taco seats. Time for some new ones. Baja XRS on the way; hopefully to solve the problem for a few years, at least.

What's your itinerary right now? (Have I asked this before, for some reason I feel like I may have...)

OK, so for the lightning shots - it was a bit of an experiment really. I'd say it sort of worked, and that I sort of got lucky. It was still light out (maybe a 15 minutes before sunset to 15 minutes after), which turned out to be the hardest part of the whole thing.

I started by just setting up the intervalometer to take one photo after another as quickly as possible (at F/8 ISO 100, -1 EV - all my "normal" settings). I let it click away for a while (maybe 3 minutes) over which time there were probably 10 lightnings (is that a word?). Anyway, it was a huge failure, I caught none of them. I realized at that point that the problem was that there was still enough light that each shutter was like 1/200 second, so I never had enough open shutter time.

I started by bumping up the EV to 0, and that got my shutter time to like 1/4 or even .4sec - something much longer anyway. I shot for another minute or two and realized that it still wasn't long enough. So, ultimately, I dialed up the F's to the highest it would go - F/20. That got me 1.6 second exposure times. I wish I could have gotten longer times, but they would have just let in too much light, so even at 1.6 seconds it was still just a bit of a crap shoot/luck situation. Something like 30 seconds would have been ideal in order to capture multiple bolts, ripping across the sky. You know, for a real armagendon style display.

So yeah - tripod, intervelometer, and longest exposure possible - that's how you get lightning. I probably could have just said that at the beginning, rather than rambling on.