AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

https://www.dezertrangers.com/threads/the-phelan-to-bishop-300.239871/

 

I liked your post even though I dislike sleeping in the sweltering heat. It's horrible when you start sweating, just laying on top of the covers.

On the plus side this time, we only had 1 comforter, rather than our usual two, and most nights we had at least a little breeze, so with all the windows/doors open and the screens keeping the bugs out, we survived until it cooled down to the 70's around 5:00am. I must say, it was very nice to wake up and not have to don a sweatshirt or puffy, but I would still rather the cold - it's so much easier to regulate temps in those conditions.

Oooooo, nice. I briefly scrolled through the first post only. While I'm not a fan of powerline roads, the route is intriguing for sure, and of course I'll probably do some research and check it out myself because I love the area so much.

Speaking of the 395 corridor. I believe this to be a shot of the Sierra's from the east (perhaps from the White Mountains). Also, possibly only accessible from Nevada? Anyone recognize the angle and can help me with an ID? PM is totally fine, and I'm happy to not mention locations in any write-up if I find it.

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Man these trip reports are incredible.

 

Got it. Thanks to @mk5, @Stuck Sucks, and @Hobbs; you guys rock. I'm hoping to hit the area in mid-August, unless something else comes up that pushes it to September.

Glad you're enjoying! I've also tried to put together a few nice groupings of the trips if you're ever looking for something and having a hard time finding it, or just want to browse.

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Ruidoso to Truth or Consequences - Bears, Lookouts, and Bombs - NMBDR 2
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Stage 2 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Ruidoso to Truth or Consequences.​

We pulled out of Ruidoso a little after 6:30pm. This time of year, we weren't at any risk of not having enough light to find camp - the sun didn't set until 8:15pm - but we'd already had a long day and were looking forward to a good night rest.

One of the things I do before going on any BDR is research the route a bit to find side trips that might offer a spectacular view, or an interesting attraction. One of our favorite detours - especially after some great experiences on the Idaho BDR - are fire lookouts.

The best of these are manned by USFS personnel who are almost always happy to chat with us about the nuances of their lookout and about our adventure. As outdoorsy people, they find us just as intriguing as we find the job of a lookout! And, in the rare situation that we happen to be near a lookout in the evening, they can be a great place to camp - with permission of course - given the 360 degree views that they afford.

As luck would have it, I'd discovered a lookout - the Monjeau Lookout - just a few miles outside of Ruidoso, and as we were pulling out of town, I realized that I should do a quick check online to see if it was open. The first review on TripAdvisor wasn't promising.

Still, it was only 10 miles or so to the lookout, so we figured it was worth the risk. And, if couldn't get to the top, maybe we could camp below the lookout and hike up before sunset or in the morning before breaking camp.

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Just as we turned off of pavement, I spotted a black bear along the side of the road. Naturally, it spotted us at the same time, and lumbered away. Brazen as ever, I stopped the truck and hopped out with the camera, letting @mrs.turbodb know that I'd "be right back." She wasn't thrilled - and of course I don't recommend this for anyone else - but I planned to keep my distance and my head on a swivel as I followed the bear over reasonably sparse terrain, so I figured I'd make out OK.

"Me, heading into town for some dumpster diving? No, I've just been sitting here on this log all evening."​

My stooopid quota met for the day, I pushed the skinny pedal in the Tacoma and pointed it uphill. Gaining altitude quickly, we could soon make out the lookout perched high above the burned forest around it.

Why is it that most lookouts seem to be in the middle of a burn area?​

We passed one, then two unlocked gates! Pretty soon, we were rounding the final bend in the road - we were going to reach the lookout!

What a beauty!​

Made almost entirely of stone, Monjeau was a grand lookout to be sure. At 9,641 feet, it was also high enough to make the outside temps rather pleasant, something I think we were both happy about. This lookout is the second on this spot, constructed in 1940 and considered the most unique in the southwest due to the rustic construction. Listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1988, it turns out that this lookout is no longer staffed, but is heavily visited by hikers and those on the hunt for great views of the area.

Standing bright against a cloudy sky.​

A lookout or a fortress?​

A commanding view from the middle level (of three).​

With the sun peeking out from under the clouds, we wasted no time in finding a nice spot to setup the tent and make dinner. Tonight, dinner preparation consisted of pulling some pre-prepared containers from the fridge - antipasto salad for me and Spanish tortilla for the lady - and finding a nice spot to sit on the rocks for the light show.

My kind of campsite.​

Rays of light.​

Not your typical sunset.​

With no cooking or cleanup beyond licking off our forks, we wrapped up dinner and climbed into the tent with light still in the sky. It'd been a full day, but I dare say we ended it on a high note.

The Following Morning...

Having looked out the tent door half-an-hour before sunrise, I opted to stay in bed for 30 minutes rather than snap photos of a cloudless sunrise. Our position high on the mountain though, it wasn't long before the full force of the sun was bearing down on the tent, warming it and reminding us that we still had nearly a thousand miles of road in front of us, and that we should get going.

Good morning sunshine.​

Is it just me, or is it a bit clearer than it was yesterday?​

At such an early hour, we decided to hold off on breakfast until a more reasonable time, and got the tent put away and the truck rolling in about twenty minutes.

Down we go.​

Some nice views of the Capitan and White Mountain wilderness to the north. Guess who is headed that direction?! ​

With well graded roads, downhill is almost always faster than up, and we covered the miles back to Ruidoso - then on some pavement - and finally back onto dirt in no time. We lost 2000' in the process, and boy were we reminded of how lucky were to have been at elevation for a cool night sleep.

Our first attraction of the day was Bonito Lake, which was signed as closed about a quarter mile from the southern boundary. As we approached the razor-wire fence surrounding it, we both wondered what could possibly be going on. And then we saw it.

Bonita Lake is closed. There is no more Bonita Lake.​

With nothing to see, we continued on, the road once again winding its way through woods - not at all what we were expecting for New Mexico.

Some sort of hopper for mining in Tanbark Canyon.​

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An escaped bus from the International Car Forest.​

Rusty boilers for a nearby mill; now just concrete footings.​

Up and down, in and out of the trees, we made good time on what might have been our first "through the woods" trail of the trip. It was refreshing to finally be off of pavement and gravel roads, but the feeling wouldn't last long.

Are we in New Mexico or California? (Lincoln NF)​

Just before wrapping up our before-breakfast-time in the Lincoln National Forest, we stumbled upon this beauty. At first we thought it was a bronze statue, but closer inspection - as I tried to find some angle to take a photo in the harsh light - revealed it to be concrete and paint. Still, not something you see every day along the side of a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

Bronze Baby (based on size) Buffalo. Baby Bronzalo.​

Twenty miles of pavement later, we found ourselves approaching Valley of Fires State Park. For me at least, the name stirred up memories of Nevada's Valley of Fire State Park, a fantastic array of brightly colored rock. You can imagine then, my surprise - and perhaps a bit of disappointment - to discover that this Valley of Fires was actually a volcanic wasteland, much more akin to Oregon's Jordan Craters in the Oregon's Owyhee Canyonlands.

Still, it was time for breakfast, and we're always curious to see volcanic activity so we pulled in for a short stop. Almost immediately we were attacked by swarms of several hundred gnats. Needless to say, we ate as quickly as we could, moving around the entire time!

Land of the devil gnats.​

44 miles long and only a few miles wide, the lava (1,500 - 1,000 years old) represents several long, thin overlapping flows. The surface still exhibits many of its original features: a rumpled, ropy, shiny surface formed from lava the consistency of taffy; caves and tubes; pressure ridges where thickening lava pushed up through breaks in hardened crust; domes, blisters, and bubble like vesicles; and many deep fissures resulting from shrinkage of the basalt as it cooled. (Roadside Geology of New Mexico) Most interesting to us was how much more vegetation there was on the relatively young flow. Only twice the age of the still barren Jordan Craters, it was clear that New Mexico's desert environment meant that cactus and yucca were pre-adapted to grow in the nooks, crannies, and shallow depressions of sand that gathered on the lava. It was, the perfect desert habitat.

I think we were done with breakfast in under five minutes, and despite the 90+ degree temps, we had the windows open as we turned off the pavement, just to clear the cab of the dastardly little gnats.

Through the desert, toward Broken Back Crater.​

This guy was keeping an eye on things before we disturbed his peaceful morning.​

The well graded roads sure made for easy (and fast) travel.​

Just like human kiddos, this guy was a little timid as mom came over for a sniff and a pet.​

Our route through the ranchland around Broken Back Crater proved to be a couple-dozen mile loop that brought us back to the same highway we'd been travelling north on as we passed through Valley of Fires. The highway had turned, and was now making its way west, the Oscura Mountains rising up in the distance.

More pavement.​

By the time we turned south - now heading away from Colorado, another twenty miles had ticked off the odometer. The reason was clear soon enough - we'd looped around the White Sands Missile Range, and were now hugging its western edge as we sped along a soft sandy road toward the end of the stage at Truth or Consequences.

WARNING: WE MIGHT BLOW YOU UP IF YOU COME OVER HERE.​

One of us was hoping to see an F-35 streak overhead, loosening an array of explosives on some unsuspecting plot of desert.​

To our west, cows and Sand Mountain.​

White Sands Missile Range - at least the portion we skirted - was more than 50 miles long, and pretty soon, things got boring. Despite my hopes, @mrs.turbodb's wishes won the day and we were not used for targeting. We did however stumble on an old tanker truck that was either used to help build the road, or was spared destruction by poor shooting.

An old relic.​

All the glass was mysteriously missing.​

Waiting patiently in the desert.​

Seems obvious, but better safe than sorry I suppose.​

Nearly half an hour and no movement of the steering wheel later, the only other interesting thing we saw along the missile range came into view. On the wrong side of the fence, we didn't know what it was at first, and I suggested to @mrs.turbodb that it was a bunker where guys sat to watch the show. "We should hop the fence and knock on the door, to say 'hi,'" I said. She was not amused.

Turned out to be a generator for some nearby video cameras.​

With no one to greet - or be arrested by - we continued on. At one point, we passed through a gate, and I mentioned that the race was now on - could we get through the range before we were targeted? It would take expert driving for sure, and we should keep our eyes to the sky.

She was not amused.

Time for a little excitement!

Note to Keyboard Commandos of the Internet: this gate was to a ranch, not to the WSMR.​

At this point, we started to veer west again, the end of the stage now less than an hour away at the little town of Truth or Consequences. As we were speeding along, I was still joking that we might be under attack, when my story was suddenly backed up by an old missile stuck in the ground on the side of the road.

A lot less dramatic, once you notice the erosion. And the construction with household building materials. ​

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This is the White Sands Missile Range's own little Mojave Megaphone. Still a fun little piece of art.​

Approaching Truth or Consequences, we noticed a huge rain cell in the distance, passing directly over town. Sheets of rain were streaming down, and though we were too far away to hear the thunder, lightning flashed overhead. I didn't say anything at the time, but I hoped that whatever roads we were taking out of town would still be passable once the storm blew through.

The clouds were looking nice - or ominous - depending on your perspective.​

The trip along the missile range had taken us quite a while - no doubt due to my frequent stops to check out this or that little thing along the road. Still, we'd really only just started this started this stage when we'd woken up this morning, and by 2:00pm we were only a few miles from the end. And we were hungry. Our late breakfast had held us over for a bit, but a complete lack of shade as we'd raced through the desert had kept us on the move as noon-time came and went. But then we got lucky.

We were ecstatic to find a nice shady area along the Rio Grande River, just below the Elephant Butte Dam.​

A spectacular sight, and a popular place to park your party boat. The Lake Powell of New Mexico.​

Lunch in the shade was pleasant - if still a bit warm with air temps in the high 90s °F - and having finished the cherries we'd picked up the afternoon before, we packed up the Tacoma, sipped a bit more warm water (gross!) and drove the final five miles into town.

As we did, the full force and effect of the thunderstorm rained down on us - a strange experience given the temperature - but only for about three minutes or so. Everything was thoroughly soaked, and the drainage ditches on the side of the road were overflowing at times. We were getting a little taste of the monsoon season we'd heard so much about.

We'd reached T-or-C!​

T-or-C got its name from an NBC game show. Featured on both the radio and on TV, it was called (you guessed it) Truth or Consequences, running on-and-off through the 1940s and 50s. Looking for a 10th anniversary shtick, the show announced a contest in 1950 where the hosts announced that they would record the show from the first town to rename itself after the show. Hot Springs, Mew Mexico bit, officially changing its name on March 31, 1950, and the program was broadcast from there the following evening.

Stage 2 was now in the books. But rather than celebrate our success, the real question on our minds - as we filled up with fuel - was whether the roads in front of us would be passable. Only time would tell.

 

Aw man, no more Lake Bonito? Dug this up from 20 years ago, my oldest going fishing for the first time at Lake Bonito. Some of my oldest digital photos!



We used to escape the heat of central Texas in August and spend a week in Ruidoso. Also have a similar photo from the lookout in 2006:



Good times, great memories there. Thanks again for sharing! Makes me think I should have explored a bit more.

 

Look through to where they are close to the dishes - some silt over there

 

Truth or Consequences to Reserve - Over the Continental Divide - NMBDR 3
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

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Stage 3 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Truth or Consequences to Reserve.​

As we made our way through T-or-C, a huge mural of Geronimo caught our attention. Given that we were - essentially - travelling through Apache lands for much of this adventure, it seemed only appropriate to wait a few minutes for the rain to stop in order to capture the moment.

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Geronimo, of the Bedonkohe Apache tribe, and the last to surrender to the US Army in 1886.​

Whereas the first stage of the BDR had taken us a little over a day, the second had taken significantly less time, and it was mid-afternoon as we headed north out of T-or-C, towards the ghost town of Chloride and a canyon I'd heard good things about: Chloride Canyon.

Luckily, the rain had stopped and the dry desert had soaked up every last bit - the roads dry and dusty, as though it'd never happened.

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The roads were once again, nearly gravel highways.​

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The clouds were looking fine after the rain.​

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North, in the distance, the Black Mountains.​

As had been the case earlier in the day when we'd taken a well-graded dirt road that essentially paralleled the highway along the northern border of the White Sands Missile Range, we did the same thing on our way to Chloride Ghost Town - rejoining NM-52 a few miles from Winston.

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Approaching Chucillo Mountain, Winston, and ultimately the Gila National Forest.​

What would eventually become the town of Chloride - more appropriately called an old town now, rather than ghost town, as there are people and businesses still doing well here - was founded by Harry Pye in 1881, A muleskinner by trade, Pye had dreams of being a successful prospector when he discovered a rich deposit of silver along Mineral Creek as he hauled supplies from Hillsboro to the army encampment at Ojo Caliente. He kept it a secret as he fulfilled his military contract and returned in 1881 to file a claim. As word of the discovery spread, miner, prospectors, and those who prospered from their success flooded the area in spite of the infringement on Apache lands and subsequent reprisals. Pye was eventually killed by the Apaches during one of the many skirmishes. (Ghost Towns of the Southwest)

Several of the original old buildings still stand, including the Pioneer Store Museum, which is worth reading about if you're a fan of history.

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There is not an info board that goes unread on our trips. The few minutes it takes to read them are well worth the time.​

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The Doodle Dum Cabin. Built in 1921 by Mr. Austin Crawford, it was constructed of stone and steeply pitched roofs to protect its inhabitants from large hailstones which Crawford believed would one day rain down in a display of God's wrath.​

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The old bank. Now, a tasty cafe... though like every other food stuffs outfit we tried to sample - closed when we arrived.​

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Grafton Cabin and an old bulldozer.​

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I sometimes wish that the colorful logos of the past were carried forward by their brands. This is so much more fun than CAT.​

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Craftsmanship for the ages.​

Having spent a bit more time in Chloride than I think we'd planned, the route turned up one of the old driveways and just kept going into the canyon behind town. We smiled as we realized that we'd finally be on - for perhaps the 2nd or 3rd time this trip - something that wasn't regularly graded!

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Into Chloride Canyon. This road was considered "expert," and a bypass was provided by the BDR team. You know, in case you were on a Goldwing or something.​

Three miles into the canyon, it only took a simple glance around for us to realize that there'd been a mine here. I'm not sure we could have done the same thing five years ago, but having explored our fair share of tailings piles and old mine roads in that time, it didn't take long for us to find a couple of the old shafts, as well as a cabin perched above the wash.

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A remnant of the Nana mine.​

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Hand hewn.​

While we probably could have spent another hour checking out the ruins here, it was 5:30pm - and that meant two things: first, it was pretty much the hottest part of the day; second, we needed to keep moving so we could - hopefully - find camp at a bit higher elevation. And so, we retreated to the air conditioned cab of the Tacoma and pushed on.

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Westward bound, into the heat of the sun.​

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The canyon started out rather dull...​

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But soon, there were rocky cliffs rising all around...​

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And some narrow spots that would have provided the perfect place for an ambush back in the pioneer days.​

It was in one of these narrow sections that I spotted some pictographs on one of the walls. In fact, I'd just been commenting that this seemed like exactly the type of place where we should expect to find some sort of rock art and dwellings - again, an indication that even I learn what to look for when shown enough examples over the years!

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Bird tracks and cubed snowman, in red.​

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Basket weave and more bird tracks in the soot on the ceiling.​

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Keeping our eyes peeled.​

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59 ticks.​

The remainder of the canyon was a fantastic drive - the scenery and geology captivating, and the road rough enough to require a bit of actual attention. We enjoyed it thoroughly as the miles ticked away, and we eventually climbed up and out of the canyon and began our ascent into the higher elevations of the Gila National Forest.

It was when we once again found ourselves completely befuddled by our California-like surroundings - that we stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of the woods. It was - to our dismay - securely locked up with USFS padlocks, but it must be something that enterprising campers can rent, a pit toilet nearby and indication that it's a reasonably well sanctioned place to hang out.

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Looks like a cozy place to spend a colorful fall day.​

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No, really, this is not California.​

Winding our way up, @mrs.turbodb was looking at the GPS when she mentioned that we were just about to cross the Continental Divide Trail. Over the next several days we'd leapfrog the trail several times, but this was the first time we'd seen it pop up in our view and I think we both wondered out loud what it would be like to wander the length of that trail. What it would be like for someone else, of course.

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No frills indicator of the CDT; the fire restrictions are more prominent.​

Our elevation now closer to 8,000 feet, and the time getting on 7:00pm, it was time to start looking for camp. Our first attempt - up a side road that looked to lead to the top of a nearby hill was a dismal failure. Not because it didn't lead to a hill, but because there were so many trees around that we may as well have stayed where we were.

So, we continued on.

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Ruins of another cabin we passed in the woods.​

As we started to descend down the western watershed, it was clear that we probably weren't going to end up with a spot that had a spectacular view overlooking some cliff edge. The mountains here were more gradual, and the Ponderosa Pine were nearly 100 feet tall. And so, we reset our expectations and decided that we'd just stop at some place that looked nice enough - even if that meant stopping in the road, since it was highly unlikely that anyone else would be coming this way in the next 12 hours.

It's funny how - when you sort of let go of expectations and decided to go with the flow - things seem to just work out. It wasn't five more minutes before we rolled past a nice level, grassy spot that looked like it'd be the perfect spot to camp. Off the road, we'd be out of the way, and we even had our own cave and hillside to explore as part of the deal.

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We couldn't have asked for a better site.​

The whip cream and cherry on the top were a complete lack of bugs, and a cool breeze blowing down the canyon. We setup the tent as fast as we could - just in case someone else came along (kidding) - and assembled some tasty cheeseburgers for dinner as the last rays of sunlight climbed the trees around us. Climbing into the tent, we each had a bit of bookkeeping to do - me, backing up the last several days of photos to the laptop; @mrs.turbodb wrapping up a few rows on a baby sweater she was knitting. Then, a few minutes with our Kindle Paperwhites and we were fast asleep.

The Following Morning...

...was just as great a the evening before, and we woke up to a cool breeze and the first rays of sunlight creeping down the trees around us. We really had scored a big win with this camp site.

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A splendid night sleep.​

As I waited for @mrs.turbodb to get out of the tent and take care of her morning routines, I wandered the area a bit - something I'd skipped the previous evening - to check out the cave and bluff above it. Definitely a cool find out here in the middle of nowhere, and fun to think about how long it's been used this way. With a dry creek nearby, it's a good bet that this cave has been used for hundreds of years.

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I really liked the structure of this forest - not too densely packed.​

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I can only imagine the stories that these walls have heard.​

It was early enough that we decided to skip breakfast again - until a more reasonable hour - so reasonably quickly we were on the road again, making our way west toward Reserve. Already, it was starting to warm up - it was going to be another scorcher!

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On the trail again, powder puff clouds adding a bit of visual interest to the blue sky.​

Not ten minutes later, we came across our first cabin of the day. As usual, it was in disrepair - the chimney having collapsed - as we poked around. I sort of wonder if people caused the problems with this one, as there didn't seem to be any reason for the failure.

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Slowly being reclaimed by the weather.​

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The double roof was an interesting detail. I suggested that it may have been done for protection against the heat - the tin roof acting as a heat shield for the rest of the structure.​

Having not made much progress, we climbed back in the truck. Cruising along, we took advantage of the cooler morning temps - the sweet smell of Ponderosa Pine wafting through the open windows - a nice respite from the artificial air conditioning that would sustain us through most of the day.

Like us, inhabitants of the forest were taking advantage of the pleasant morning and we spotted a couple of elk grazing near the side of the road. They spotted us as well and started trotting west as we too rolled along the same direction. We soon discovered why.

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Breakfast time!​

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The herd was more than 50 strong; many fawns, closely guarded by the entire group.​

Shortly after seeing our first herd, we rejoined NM-59 - the highway that had delivered us to Winston the day before. We'd have made great time on this segment, were it not for the plentiful flowers lining the sides of the road in this part of the Gila National Forest. I suggested we stop - right in the middle of our lane - for breakfast, but @mrs.turbodb wasn't having any of that.

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Unexpected leaves. Some sort of thistle?​

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A beautiful drive, even though it was paved.​

Soon enough we were back on dirt, an entirely different landscape unfolding before us. Out of the mountains of the Continental Divide, grassy plains and juniper ruled these rolling hills. It was ranch land - though the mountains were as well - and the evenly trimmed grass suggested that there were plenty of steaks-in-waiting wandering around.

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Wide open spaces.​

Then, to our left, a small cluster of Pronghorn. Three adults and two babies. As usual, they were more skittish than almost any other animal and the adults quickly hopped over the barb wire fence before turning to see if the kiddos would follow. The answer was a resounding no - the fawns had bolted and were bounding along the fence line as fast as their legs would take them. Even as it angled away from the road, they kept running. "I think they're just having fun," said @mrs.turbodb.

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Watch us run!​

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And run!​

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And run!​

Continuing to work our way to Bearwallow Mountain before heading north toward Reserve, we once again found ourselves in airy pine forests and approaching an old ranch. Curious as ever, we both knew that this would be a great place to eat breakfast as we explore the reasonably in-tact cabin, corrals, and windmill.

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It's always nice to come to a cabin like this - to see the treasures it holds inside!​

As @mrs.turbodb got breakfast assembled on the tailgate, I grabbed the camera and wide angle lens, and made my way in through the front door. The stench was overwhelming, and then entire floor of the cabin seemed to be filled with 18-24 inches of dirt. Strange.

Then, I heard it. Squeaking. Lots of squeaking. Even before I looked up, everything clicked into place. This was not a cabin I'd be exploring.

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What a cool discovery. There were thousands of these fabulous mosquito-eaters!​

Leaving the bats to sleep in peace, we explored the rest of the homestead/ranch as we wrapped up our cereal and blueberries, and then climbed back in the Tacoma - the air conditioning now necessary to keep us cool.

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Not what I expected from New Mexico, but still a joy to drive through.​

By 10:15am we reached the base of Bearwallow Mountain. To our delight, a sign pointed the way to a lookout and we turned off the BDR track to check it out, hoping that this one would be staffed.

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Along the way, hundreds of butterflies made for a short detour to our short detour.​

Rolling up on Bearwallow Lookout, we were excited to see it was staffed, and I must admit that we were also a little excited to have cell coverage for the first time since we'd left T-or-C. Each of us checked our emails and caught up a bit on the rest of the world before asking permission to make our way up the tower.

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Bearwallow Lookout.​

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Lookout sunstar.​

Raszik, the woman staffing the lookout was great. Chatty and happy to see us, she only allowed us to the upper landing of stairs, rather than to the lookout level itself, but that seemed pretty reasonable given that she was alone and given the uncertainty around vaccinations, etc. We chatted for a good 20 minutes or so - about the local area, about our trip, and about the smoke that was once again creeping across the horizon from the west. Fires in Arizona, it turns out.

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We weren't surprised that she'd driven a Toyota Truck up to her summer haunt.​

Having enjoyed the social interaction, we eventually pulled ourselves away, wishing Raszik a safe rest of her summer and headed back down the mountain and then north towards Reserve, the smoke - having settled into the valleys - seemingly getting thicker as we lost elevation.

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From blue skies overhead to gray on the horizon.​

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This place has burned before, most recently in the 300,000-acre Whitewater-Baldy Fire of 2012.​

There wasn't much to Reserve, though two gas stations and a few restaurants did line the main street. Once again, @mrs.turbodb had found a recommended spot with BBQ, but as our luck would have it, they'd lost power earlier in the day and so only had BLTs or soup or turkey on croissant for lunch.

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Reserve, gearing up for America's Birthday!​

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I like this more than I probably should. Good thing it's several states away.​

Ultimately, we decided to eat at a local Mexican place called Carmen's. This was a mistake - one of two we'd make in the span of about 15 minutes. We once again opted to sit outside, and ordered what seemed like straight forward plates - enchilada verdes for the lady, and carne asada with guacamole for me.

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Don't eat here. It is not authentic, Mexican, or American.​

Neither meal was good, but most egregious was the fact that my carne asada was delivered as a red-sauce based soup, with no guac, and it was pork. When I mentioned this to the waitress, she offered to bring me some guac and assured me that it was carne asada.

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Strangest grilled beef skirt steak (carne asada) I've ever seen! Chile Colorado with pork, maybe...​

In the end, we paid our fare and left hungry. And that's when we made our second mistake... as we set out toward Luna, on the fourth leg of the New Mexico BDR.

 

We did a lot! Deception pass, Washington park, Rosario Bay, some good eating and visiting with family. I requested Snowgoose Produce and it didn't disappoint! Oh, and La Conner waterfront was beautiful. Had a delicious beer and seafood appetizers. Endless hiking possibilities just in Anacortes. Mt. Eerie was great. Here's a few snaps and thanks to @KojiKP and @turbodb for the tips and letting me pick your brains

 

Reserve to Fence Lake - Out of Fuel - NMBDR 4
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Stage 4 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Reserve to Fence Lake.​

I don't know if it was entirely due to our disappointment at lunch, but at least partially due to our disappointment in how our visit to Reserve turned out, we decided to forego purchasing fuel in town since we still had half a tank plus 11 gallons in the Military Scepter Jerry Cans. That was plenty to get us the 132 miles too Fence Lake - the end of the next stage - and really, it didn't matter since there was fuel some 75 miles away in Luna.

Or so we thought.

At any rate, ready to be done with Reserve, we headed out - once again on pavement for the first 20 miles.

Blue skies as we headed west. These wouldn't last long.​

A meandering path first took us southwest - before turning north - and eventually we were back on dirt as we made our way along Pueblo Park Road. Already the sky was changing, the blue becoming gray, the air around us hazy.

Southwesterly winds were carrying smoke from Arizona's fires, less than 50 miles away.​

As we climbed out of the taller pine trees, the smoke became even more prominent.​

It was most noticeable as we rounded a local ridgeline - to the north, clear blue skies; to the south, smoke.

I hope we're headed into the blue!​

Glad the winds weren't so strong in the morning, that's where we came from!​

At this point, our track was headed due west, the BDR planners clearly keen to get riders to the Arizona border before turning north to continue the route to Colorado. Of course, that was cool with us, and we were curious to see if there was a Welcome to New Mexico sign at this crossing; we hadn't seen one when crossing in from Utah or Texas.

Some cool rock formations here in the Gila National Forest.​

Guess we're not entering Arizona - at least not in any significant fashion.​

The closure (USFS Order No. 03-01-21-16) affected the entirety of Arizona's Apache-Sitegreaves National Forest and prohibited "going in or being upon the restricted area." The reason, of course was public health and safety due to extreme fire danger. Obviously, a clear and present danger given what turned out to be two large fires burning in the area.

Oh, and there was no Welcome to New Mexico sign at the crossing, though the Arizonian's were kind enough to post that crossing west would result in your being in Arizona. C'mon New Mexico, you're dropping the ball!

By this point, we were reasonably close to Saddle Mountain, and I'd marked a lookout perched on top, so we made a quick side trip to check it out. At the very least we hoped that we'd get a better view of the fires - though I think both of us were hoping for another friendly lookout operator to chat with!

As we neared the lookout, it appeared to be staffed! ​

And as we pulled up to the parking area, we were greeted with a familiar sight - another Toyota Tacoma. I think about 75% of lookout staffers drive a Tacoma, 4Runner, or Toyota Truck. It's awesome.

"Of course it's a Tacoma." -@mrs.turbodb (as she rolls her eyes)​

After carefully parking away from any dry material - a fact surely noticed by the lookout staffer - we wandered our way slowly towards the tower, giving ourselves plenty of time to be looked over and evaluated before we requested permission to climb.

Well positioned between two plumes of smoke!​

We were invited up and spent 20 fun minutes talking with the woman - who's name we never caught - about all manner of topics. Our trip, of course, but also how her summer was going. Friends with Raszik - who we'd met earlier in the day - she pointed south and noted that while we couldn't see it now, Bearwallow Lookout was, "Usually right over there." Even more interesting was the fact that this - the Saddle Mountain Lookout - wasn't usually staffed. In fact, she was only here because her normal lookout - the Mogollon Baldy Lookout, New Mexico's highest at 10,774 feet - had to be evacuated by helicopter due to the Johnson Fire just a week earlier!

Southwesterly winds pushing smoke from Arizona into New Mexico.​

Everywhere we went, there were posted signs praying for rain. It has been the driest few years on record.​

After thanking her for everything she was doing and wishing her the best for the remainder of the summer, we climbed back down to the Tacoma and set off to the north. Most striking now was that we'd been completely overtaken by the smoke - it was thick in the air - and everything around us had that orange tinge.

Such a strange sensation. The ground here - obviously - is the color of my shadow, not red as it appears from the smoke-tinted sun.​

I was actually quite bummed about the smoke situation - so much of a BDR is about the views from the trail of one's surroundings - but I figured that it was what it was as we continued our trek north. And then - to my delight - as we neared Luna, we drove out of the smoke. It really was that abrupt of a change - almost like driving through a wall - and once again, the skies were blue!

I was so happy to be out of the smoke, I didn't even mind the pavement.​

My joy was short lived however, as we arrived in Luna to discover that the lone gas station there had been closed for quite some time; the nearest fuel was in ... Reserve.

​

Not only that, but closer inspection of the map showed that there was no fuel at the terminus of this stage - Fence Lake - and we'd be cutting it close with our remaining fuel + jerry cans if we tried to push forward. So it was back to Reserve we went - luckily only 20 miles on pavement - to fill up as we should have at lunch. Lesson learned - even when you're grouchy about a poor experience, always get fuel when it's available.

An hour after entering Luna the first time, we were back with a full tank of fuel, the sun a little lower in the sky, but the air still free of smoke.​

We pushed north along the western edge of New Mexico, the Gila National Forest once again presenting itself as California; the roads nicely graded and our speeds capped at 50mph only because our tires were aired down to 17psi.

Our regular view.​

No time to stop, we're moving right along.​

Our first antlered elk, this guy was a loner.​

We hadn't been able to see the column of smoke from Saddle Mountain Lookout - the winds had blown it too far and too broadly from its source. Here however, a bit further north and with a different perspective, we got a good look at what was causing all the fuss.

Not a small fire.​

We were lucky that all the smoke would remain to our south for the remainder of the trip.​

As we neared the northern edge of the Gila NF, it was fascinating to watch the landscape change. It happened first within the forest. Dirt gave way to rocky outcroppings. Then, we popped out into a meadow, a final rocky range and Bill Knight Gap rising up in the distance.

Something is different.​

Somewhere in the distance, Bill Knight Gap.​

A dozen miles or so later, we found ourselves nearing the gap - really just a pass through the final range, named for some guy named Bill Knight - the significance of whom I never learned. Regardless, the ruins of a cabin - which turned out to be rather pedestrian - got us to stop, and it was a great thing we did - the badlands rising up behind us, striking in their contrast to what we'd seen so far.

Pink badlands. Marvelous!​

And then, as if the badlands weren't enough, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Another horny lizard!

This guy was just a youngin'.​

Why'd you wake me from my nap in the sun?​

Back where he belongs, still as grumpy as ever.​

Now, I've caught more than my fair share of lizards in my life - hundreds if not a thousand or more - but I've never caught a horny lizard before. Heck, this is only the third one I've seen so needless to say I was unsure whether I was asking for trouble with all those little spikes. Turns out they're for show - or at least this guy didn't feel I was any real threat - and once I had him in my hand he felt like any other baby dinosaur I've admired. Just remember - these guys are our friends and they deserve our respect and admiration, please be kind to them.

A big smile on my face, I held my little buddy up so he could scowl at @mrs.turbodb before we climbed back into the truck and a few minutes later left Bill Knight Gap in the rear view mirror. It was getting on 6:00pm at this point, so the shadows were starting to get longer and it was time for us to start looking for somewhere to call home for the night.

Out of the national forest and into the rolling plains.​

What do you think - a volcano? (Hint: a volcano.)​

As usual, the roads were in great shape, and that meant that even with just over two hours until sunset, we could still pack several dozen miles under our belts. We wouldn't make it to Fence Lake to finish the stage, but that's never a good strategy anyway on a BDR. Rather, you want to spend the night mid-stage somewhere so you can camp out in the open, away from civilization.

The rolling plains gave way to a rocky, mesa-like landscape. Now this is what I expected from New Mexico.​

The Cerro Pomo Ranch - marked by a modern petroglyph.​

Ruins of the old ranch house? A stable?​

We continued through this landscape for the better part of two hours, temperatures still in the low 90s °F, our air conditioning helping to keep things comfortable. Part of us wasn't sure quite what to do - the lack of trees, and sandstone that'd been baking in the sun all day, making for a rather warm existence.

As always, we trusted that something would present itself, and in the end, we were rewarded once again - this time by the Zuni Salt Lake.

That's not ice, it's over 90°F down there.​

Surrounded by BLM land, but part of the Zuni Reservation, we hoped to camp at the edge of the lake - a desire that proved impossible when we found the road gated. However, after a couple failed attempts - due to infestations of ants - we were able to find a spot nearby where we setup camp and ultimately spent a pleasant night once the temperatures dropped to something a bit more reasonable.

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. First, we had a salt lake to investigate.

The salt house. At one time - perhaps still at some times - one must have been able to drive or boat out to this location for the gathering of salt.​

Salty reflection.​

There were two of these old block buildings, and one crumbling warehouse near the shore.​

I especially liked the weathering of the interior - the crumbling stucco revealing the craftsmanship beneath.​

Fire, the apparent demise of the buildings.​

The coolest part of the entire area - for me - was at the edge of the salt lake. There, we had the opportunity to see - up close - the reason this caldera is prized by the Zuni. All along the shore - stretching out across the water - was a salty crust over two inches thick. Pilings, installed many years ago, were covered in the stuff. It was beautiful.

These posts tell a story - of water levels and time. And each is capped with salt that wicked up through the post over the decades.​

I'm not sure what type of snake this guy little fellow is, but a few strikes toward the camera suggested that he wasn't as friendly as grumpy horny lizard.​

Our investigation of the lake complete, we headed back to camp for a rushed dinner of taco-rritos and guac - a plethora of bugs attacking our headlamps as we ate - plus a few pictures of the sun as it traced its final few degrees through the sky.

Sun star and rays through the clouds.​

Camp kitchen.​

Sleep would come quickly as usual - long, hot days making for tired campers.

The Following Morning...

Having refrained from reading - in order to keep the lights out and bugs at bay - after going to bed just after sunset, I didn't feel like it was too early when my alarm woke me at 4:35am. Out here in the flats, and with clouds in the sky for sunset, I hoped to get a nice sunrise coming up over the horizon.

Good morning, sunshine.​

But hopes are not reality, and the cloud cover was minimal to say the least. There was some smoke however, so I pulled out my chair and grabbed my Kindle and hoped for the best. Nothing really developed, but the orange horizon was still enough to make me glad I'd gotten up, and soon enough I heard @mrs.turbodb stirring as well. It was time to get under way.

Hey, look, more "dirt" roads.​

As we'd done the previous evening, we kept the speedometer pegged at 50 mph for the final 20 miles or so to Fence Lake, as we scanned the airwaves with the Kenwood D710G ham radio, which I'd learned to program prior to this trip with the hopes it would give us a bit of listening entertainment.

We were not disappointed. Right away, we settled on a repeater that was being used by the "Made it Through the Night" club, each of the members checking in to let their fellow hams that they were in fact still alive and would check in again the next day. An indication of the average age of operators, perhaps?

At any rate, the final 20 miles flew by, and by 6:30am we'd reached Fence Lake. This was by far the smallest checkpoint on the BDR so far, the entire "town" consisting of perhaps two intersections. There, the most prominent building was at the base of a cell tower, proclaiming "CellularOne is now providing 3G service to Fence Lake."

Woohoo?

The only major building besides the cell tower. Perhaps, at one time, a restaurant and bar?​

Now, just a porch looking for tumbleweeds.​

With no service on our Verizon phones, we didn't stop for long - after all, we knew the highlight of our morning - and perhaps the entire stage of the BDR - wasn't much farther ahead!

 

Yours is bigger

 

Your Death Valley trips and the detail is so rad! I do a bunch of landscape photography and it was the main reason been lifting my truck to go places like that. I'm so stoked that you posted all this. So well done. The pics are pretty good too!

 

I've said this before, your trips and picture are amazing! Do you ever plan, or have you ever been, in the midwest or towards the east?

 

Thank you! Glad you're enjoying them. Of course, you're welcome to look through everything here, but sometimes it can be easier to read through on the web site. Here are a few useful links:

Main Index (contains links to these other pages, but since it's easy to just post them:

• Trips by State
• Trips by Destination
• If you're interested in Death Valley, I've also got this page: Death Valley (and Surrounding Area)

Would love to see your photography as well - I'm always interested to see how others view the world around us!

Thank you (again) . I would love to visit the midwest and east. The biggest issue for me is the distance to get there, and the fact that I have so much to explore that's closer. I'm sure I'll get there eventually though.

 

I don't understand how you get the time off from work?!!

 

I saw you went to Haller Pass and Ravens Roost. I am curious if you ran into any road closures due to the DNR shutdown? Particularly, when you came down from Raven's Roost, at Crow Creek, could you not go north on FS70?

 

I didn't run into any road closure signs, but I never tried going up FS-70 beyond the turn off from NF-19 to -1902 (to Raven Roost). I needed fuel, and so headed out to Cliffdell.

Why do you ask?

I also didn't know that Haller Pass was a named pass, so thanks for alerting me to that!

Had a fun time out exploring in the Rainier area, that's for sure. The Raven Roost Jeep Trail reminded me a bit of what Naches Wagon Trail must have been back in the day when it was originally opened, and not a 7-foot deep trench that it is now. I thought it was hilarious how it sort of follows the well-graded FS road for almost the entire length, just offset by 100 feet. A fun, easy trail for those who don't want to risk it on Naches, for sure.

Got this fun photo (among others, which I'll get around to posting eventually, of course...) on the trip:

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Very cool milky way photo for sure. Since Rainier tends to make its own weather, it is always fortunate to be able to see it from the exposed ridge opposite Haller. Back in the slide film days, I got to use up several rolls there one evening. Was pretty awesome.

I asked about a possible closure on FS70/19 for a couple of reasons. One is because there is a very cool, all dirt route over Blowout Mt to Stampede and i90 from there. But part of it skirts or traverses DNR land and as of 7/23 all dirt access thru DNR is closed statewide for fire restrictions so I didn't know if if they were posting closure signs that close to 410.

The Raven's Roost 'trail' is actually a natural gas line road. But I agree, it is hella fun. A bit rocky (the hated size) but the last, upper part, makes it worth it.

 

The Astro trip I went on was led by one of Rainier's former astronomy rangers, Matt Dieterich. Some of the cool stories from there make it sound like a fantastic place to see the MW.

 

You were in my back yard and you didn't stop by to say hello!