AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

My wife and I did this section last year, I have a lot of the same photos.

 

Unfortunately, there is a lot light pollution there as the spot we are discussing is on the north side of the mountain. And not far to the north and west of there is the Seattle/Tacoma metro. Once you get a little further east (east of the cascade crest), the milky way viewing is much better.

 

Gotcha. I knew about the DNR closures, but didn't realize they were so close to where I was. Since all of DNR is closed, I wonder if they even have signs up. Seems like it would be a lot of signs.

And, I noticed the buried line going up Raven Roost. For some reason, I thought I saw a sign that said it was electrical, but don't quote me on that. Whatever is there, it's exposed (and broken) in several places now - or at least one of the lines leading up is (perhaps an old one). I agree on the rock size, and the final ascent being the best part.

Lastly - maybe someday you can show me the route of which you speak. I've done very little exploring in the area, and would love to do more + hang around the campfire. This time, I found my camp spot around 3:00pm or so and just sat in my chair and wrote up the Idaho story until I went to bed. Very relaxing afternoon.

Sorry man! Would have been cool to meet up. If it's any consolation, the same exact thing happened with Brent @PcBuilder14. It's always so hard for me to keep track of where everyone lives. Frankly, I'm so terrible with names, that I really just wish I could remember those; then I'd move on to home locations. Maybe I should start keeping a log book of locations so I can cross-reference when I'm in some area.

Nice, you've got some great photos then! I really liked El Morro. One of my favorite things we saw all trip. To see carvings of travelers that pre-dated Columbus was mindboggling. Of course, I know those are newer than the various Native American stuff, but I love those as well!

It's true, there is light pollution around Rainier, and of course, some of the dark sky places like Hells Canyon and Black Rock Desert are surely better. But, one of my buddies from work is really into astrophotography, and I've realized that it's like anything else - if you're into it, there is equipment that essentially offsets the effects of a lot of the light pollution and you can end up with shots that are mindblowing. He uses this thing called a "star tracker" (which you probably know of, but I'd never heard of) that gets calibrated and aligned to the rotation of the earth, and lets him do minutes long exposures with no star trails, b/c the stars stay in the "same position" relative to the frame. Mind. Blowing.

I somewhat hope to never be as into photography as him, because I already have an expensive hobby in the Tacoma.

 

Yeah, be glad to. There are lots and lots of roads to check out. Some of which, like the one I am referring to, are only on the older maps. On newer maps and the current google maps they aren't even shown. Gotta wonder about that. Then of course there are those that are gated or otherwise closed due to washouts and erosion that the NP service has not kept up with.

 

Fence Lake to Grants - Don't Miss El Morro - NMBDR 5
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Stage 5 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Fence Lake to Grants.​

Within 5 minutes of arriving at Fence Lake, we were once again on our way. The highlight of our morning - and perhaps of the entire BDR - was just a couple hours ahead of us; lollygagging around here wasn't going to get us there any faster.

We nearly passed by the Wild Spirit Wolf Sanctuary, my sights so set on what I'd been looking forward to for days. It was only @mrs.turbodb's quick turn in her seat to read the - inexplicably one sided - sign as I sped along that got us to stop for a quick moment to see the wolves.

Don't approach from the south, the other side is blank.​

We'd heard about this place the previous day at one of the lookouts we'd visited. Turns out that starting in the late 1990s, Arizona and New Mexico began a program to release wild Mexican Wolves back into the forests and wildernesses through which they once roamed. This effort was - as you might suspect - controversial, with the general public supporting, and ranchers opposing the reintroduction. The Wild Spirit Wolf Sanctuary doesn't have anything to do with those wolves in particular, but is often brought up in the same breath - because, wolves. Rather, the sanctuary is for rescued wolf and wolf-dog pets that can no longer be cared for by their owners.

Wolf Dog.​

Seemed like a pretty sad place to us - a bunch of animals caged up waiting for their next meal - and so we made a quick exit rather than sticking around - our route now taking us through the Ramah Navajo Indian Reservation.

Fabulous bluffs.​

And then - as was becoming a more regular occurrence than we'd been prepared for, we popped out onto pavement at NM-53, just a few miles east of El Morro National Monument. I turned to @mrs.turbodb, a huge grin on my face, and then I stopped the truck in the middle of the road for a photo.

I was pulled over by a Sherriff about 15 seconds after taking this photo. Luckily, he just wanted to check that we were OK, since some dufus had stopped in the middle of the road.​

Turns out I could have avoided the whole "police lights" thing if I'd just continued on another quarter mile. There, a nicely placed sign - as long the photographer strategically chooses their position - pointed us exactly where we were headed.

El Morro means "The Headlands" or "The Bluff." There aren't many NPS signs that point at their named monument. ​

Having arrived about 30 minutes after they opened, we had the parking lot mostly to ourselves, and we ate a quick breakfast before slathering ourselves in sunscreen and heading into the visitor center to show our America the Beautiful Pass and then experience the monument.

Getting closer.​

I'm always distracted by reptiles. Plus, I've never seen a lizard that looks like a garter snake before.​

There are two loops at El Morro. The first is the Inscription Trail. Paved, and only half a mile in length, this trail escorted us along the base of El Morro - first to the pool, and then past hundreds of Spanish and Anglo inscriptions, as well as pre–historical petroglyphs.

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Back before Toyota Tacomas, the 150 miles from Albuquerque to Zuni typically took 9 or 10 days by foot and horse. Dependable water supplies like this one made for welcome relief for natives and immigrants alike, and many of them left their mark along the base of the wall to the west.

The pool.​

Both women and men passed by El Morro, but very few women left their inscriptions. Miss A. F. Baley was one of the exceptions. America Frances Baley and her sister Amelia were part of a wagon party headed from Missouri to California in 1858.​

E. Pen Long was a member of a US Army expedition led by Lt. Edward F. Beale to find a wagon route from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to the Colorado River. The group, which first passed by El Morro in 1857, was testing the usefulness of camels in crossing the deserts of the southwest. Beale wrote positively about the camels in his journals, but the Army abandoned the experiment a few years later due to the start of the Civil War.​

We all know the name Breckinridge - or at least a variant. P Gilmer was a graduate of Virginia Military Institute, passing by El Morro in 1859. After arriving back in Virginia, Breckinridge enlisted to the Confederate Army and fought against the United States. The town of Breckenridge, CO, was named for Breckinridge's family, but Colorado was decidedly pro-Union and the town changed the spelling of its name to distance itself from the Breckinridge family's confederate connection.​

On the 25th of the month of June, of this year of 1709, Ramön Garcia Jurado passed through here on the way to Zuni.​

Hard to capture in the light we had, native petroglyphs show the bighorn sheep that likely frequented the watering hole.​

One of the oldest and more famous inscriptions at El Morro - that of the first governor of New Mexico, Don Juan de Oñate - was inscribed in 1605, fifteen years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock.​

R. H. Orton became adjutant-general of California after the Civil War. In the early years of the Civil War, the California Column, as it was known, was sent to New Mexico to reinforce Federal troops expecting Confederate hostilities. Orton held the rank of captain when the First Cavalry was mustered out from March to October of 1866. He may have made his inscription as he returned to California.​

General Don Diego de Vargas, who conquered for our Holy Faith and for the Royal Crown, all of New Mexico, at his own expense, was here, in the year of 1692.​

At the apex of the butte, dozens more inscriptions, many of them painstakingly carved in a rectangluar box. Almost like a collection of license plates.​

The second hike was the longer Headland Trail. Departing from the end of the Inscription Trail, this is a two-mile loop back to the visitor center and definitely worth the effort if you're planning to visit El Morro.

Inscriptions continue along the edge of the mesa, though much more sparsely as the Headland Trail begins.​

Walking around the base of the mesa - the switchbacks to the top depart from the back side.​

Atop of the bluff, the views were spectacular. The Zuni Mountains, the volcanic craters of the El Malpais area, and the El Morro valley spread out in the distance. But most incredible - at least when we initially reached the top - was the view of the box canyon inside the horseshoe-shaped butte.

El Morro's box canyon.​

Pillar of light.​

The trail is well marked - much of it carved into the sandstone by the Civilian Conservation Corps decades ago. Following the shape of the butte to the opposite side, we were able to experience the entirety of this place before coming upon the main attraction - the Ancestral Puebloan ruin, Atsinna.

They called this "Alligator Juniper," but I didn't see any teeth, and it certainly didn't live in the water.​

The clouds were looking mighty fine the entire time we were there.​

Stairway to heaven.​

Astinna, which means where the pictures are on the rock, was occupied from roughly 1275 to 1400 by ancestors of today's Zuni people. While only a few rooms - including a kiva - have been excavated, the town consisted of more than 800 rooms, most of which remain protected under several feet of dirt.

Approaching from below, it initially appears to be a reasonably normal - if a little boring - ruin.​

Looks can be deceiving.​

A round kiva surrounded by a square wall.​

Our loop nearly complete, we'd thoroughly enjoyed the two hours we'd spent at El Morro. While not technically part of the NMBDR, I can't recommend this place highly enough - take the time to walk around - even if you don't do everything. The views and history here are second to none.

Even the views on the way back to the visitor center were postcard worthy.​

Unsure how we were going to top El Morro - hint: we weren't - we got back on the trail (highway) and headed east. Having just completed a detour, we had another detour decision to make: should we go to the Ice Cave and Bandera Volcano, or the El Malpais National Monument?

I'd assumed that we would - partly because it was a point of interest called out on the BDR map, but also because it sounded pretty cool. Luckily however, @mrs.turbodb had been doing her homework on the El Malpais and informed me that the Ice Cave and Bandera Volcano were actually a paid attraction on private land, and the reviews were only meh.

Better, she suggested, would be going even a little further out of our way - further into the monument - to hike through the lava tubes. Specifically, checking out Junction Cave. So, that's exactly what we did!

The entrance to Junction Cave. Never mind all the crumbling rock, I'm sure it's fine.​

Looking up toward the exit.​

Not more than 100 yards long, Junction cave is the first in a series of collapsed lava tubes that can be hiked - under- and over-ground - in a loop for anyone who hasn't gotten enough after a single cave. For us, the single cave satisfied our curiosity, and while it didn't really hold a candle to El Morro, we were glad we'd ventured a little farther than the tourist trap that'd almost gotten us.

Plus, we knew that there were dirt roads in our future, and our stomachs were warning us that it was getting on lunch time. They were right of course - it was 12:15pm. And so, we retraced a few miles of pavement, turning onto dirt 15 minutes later, where we promptly took our third detour of the day - this time, towards Oso Ridge Lookout.

We have arrived.​

Unlike the other lookouts we visited, the road to Oso Ridge was short and the lookout itself didn't tower over the landscape. Still, the views were panoramic and we were thrilled to find the tower staffed when we arrived. In fact, I completely forgot to take a photo of the lookout as we were quickly granted permission to come up.

The generator house from Los Angeles-Amarillo Beacon 61. Built in 1929, this shed was the last one in operation on this route, finally shutting down in 1966. The lookout was built within the structure of the beacon tower by the USFS during the 1930s, it has been rebuilt since that time.​

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As with all the other lookouts we visited, much time was spent curiously discussing the adventure we were on. Luckily @mrs.turbodb had brought along our map on which she'd traced the route, aiding in the explanation.​

Hungry, and a little uncomfortable being in close proximity to another human being without wearing a mask, we didn't loiter long on Oso Ridge. With no shade to speak of, our plan to eat under the lookout was foiled, and we headed back down the hill to find something a bit more conducive to sandwich munching and chip devouring.

It took us half an hour to find the base of an old cinder cone - one of the many we'd seen from the Oso Ridge Lookout - where the shade from the nearby pine trees made lunch preparation and consuming much more pleasant.

Lunch at the base of a volcano. Check.​

And then we were off. Despite the fact that our day had been a series of detours so far, we had only 20 miles or so before we reached the end of the stage in Grants. And, if past stages were any indicator, a good half of those miles might be paved.

For now though, we sort of enjoyed the forest. Sort of, because it was really starting to feel like we weren't seeing New Mexico - or at least, what we expected of New Mexico. Oh, and it was starting to look like rain - not an issue in itself, and nice from a temperature perspective - but we were a bit wary of what the roads would be like if they were saturated and slick.

We happened upon a mine in the Zuni Mountains.​

The quartz on the ground and in the tailings around us suggested that there might be gold in them there hills!​

A Coopers Hawk kept a close eye on us as we drove by.​

Then, we found a short, steep, mogully section of road. Keen to do a little flexing - we hadn't needed 4WD on this trip yet (not that we needed it now) - I looked over at @mrs.turbodb and smiled as I grabbed the camera with a, "Be right back."

She - of course - knew exactly what I was up to. This wasn't the first time I'd pulled a stunt like this, leaving the truck suspended on a hill by the emergency brake, so she asked, "So what do I do [when the brakes give way]?"

"You'll hit a tree. You'll be fine." Probably not the best answer, looking back on it now.

Flexy.​

But still with room for more travel in the rear!​

Of course, the e-brake held and no one hit any trees, and a few minutes later we may has well have been on pavement as our secondary road popped out onto Zuni Canyon Road and our speeds increased to 50mph on the well-graded, gravel surface.

Some nice contrast, even with the sun behind a cloud.​

As we rolled into Grants, we had several things to take care of. Fuel of course, but @mrs.turbodb also wanted to call her mom, and we needed to stop at an auto-parts store. But all those things were put on hold as we rolled into town.

Because there's no way I was just driving by a tank without taking a picture.

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Anyway - back to the auto parts store. The problem had been discovered the previous evening as I'd performed my "nightly" ritual of quickly glancing under the truck to make sure everything seemed operational - there was fluid dripping from the steering rack. It wasn't a lot - in fact the reservoir on the power steering pump still read full - but I wanted to pick up a bit of ATF just in case.

Probably unnecessary, but good peace of mind.​

And with that, we ticked off our fifth leg of the BDR. The leg itself hadn't been much to write home about, but boy had we had a great time on our detours! Little did I realize that the following leg would give it a run for the money, and we would finally feel like we had entered New Mexico!

 

Man, I wish I would have known you were in Ruidoso. I actually live at the end of the road where you took a picture of the colorful "RUIDOSO" sign. Hope you guys had a good trip.

 

Grants to Cuba - Finally Out of the Woods - NMBDR 6
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Stage 6 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Grants to Cuba.​

It wasn't even 4:00pm when we headed out of Grants to kick off the sixth stage of our route. With only two stages remaining, it was looking like we'd complete the entire route in just under a week - hopefully giving us a day or two of leisurely making our way home, exploring along the way.

The reasons we were watching our time was that the sunny days we'd enjoyed so far - even if they'd be hot - were about to change; a storm system was rolling in. And that meant the trails could get interesting.

Into the Cibola National Forest.​

Up, up, up - into the aspen.​

As was becoming a theme upon leaving each checkpoint, one of our first orders of business was deviating from the mapped route to explore a fire lookout. This time we were headed up to La Mosca Lookout, just a couple miles from the tallest mountain in the area - Mt. Taylor. And, as usual, our fingers were crossed that the road would be open and the lookout, staffed.

First sight.​

Looks promising.​

When we reached the summit, we were elated. And it was windy! Gusting over 40mph according to the NOAA weather report on the ham radio, we held on to our hats as we walked the final switchback to the lookout.

It's always good practice to park where the lookout staffer is parked, so we walked from here.​

At just over 11K feet, our highest elevation of the NMBDR. We wondered while here, is this the highest road in the state?​

Unfortunately, and unlike the other lookouts we'd visited, the person staffing this one was clearly not interested in any sort of interaction with visitors. Secure behind closed doors and shut windows, he completely ignored us as he glassed the surrounding area. Waves were not returned. Understandable perhaps, given the close proximity to a larger town, and the higher amounts of traffic he likely had to endure.

The views, however, did not disappoint.

There's rain falling from those clouds. The weather is a-changing!​

What is that?! Don't worry, we'll find out later. ​

Whereas we'd generally been heading back to the truck to escape the heat, this time we jumped back in for shelter from the winds - heading north, our noses pointed toward the ominous weather in the distance.

We were both hoping for the best, but it sure didn't look promising with a horizon like this...​

A little less than half an hour later, it was simply amazing how things had changed. Sure, there were still clouds around, and yes, it was still quite windy - but the sun was out again, the temps were back in the high 80s °F, and holy smokes, we found ourselves a that crazy point we'd seen in the distance from La Mosca Lookout!

I present Cerro Alesna.​

Closer.​

Wow.​

A volcanic plug, Cerro Alesna was created when lava hardened within its vent. Eventually, erosion deteriorated the surrounding rock while the erosion-resistant plug remained, producing a distinctive upstanding landform. Apparently, this was common in this part of New Mexico as we'd see several other volcanic plugs in this area as well.

Having rubber-necked our way by Cerro Alesna, we were still turning our heads back to look at it when we came upon a reasonably large, and well-preserved ruin of an old ranch. With several structures including a stable, tack barn, and living quarters - as well as several large corrals - we got out to explore.

The long stable, with windows for the horses on the far end, and a tack shed in the windowless area.​

High winds that frequent this area had clearly taken their toll on several of the roofs here. Apparently the wooden framing supporting them simply rested on the stone walls, allowing it to be blown off.​

"I told you I'd close up your window if you kept sneaking out, Johnny!"​

Now nearing 6:30pm, we'd covered quite a bit of ground since leaving Grants - the roads here just as graded as the rest of the route. That said, the landscape was finally what I thought of when I think of New Mexico - bluffs and mesas rising up in the distance, the landscape more desert than forest, and we were thoroughly enjoying it.

Well hello New Mexico, where have you been the last five days?​

Given the time, we had a quick look at the map and noted that much of what we were travelling through from our current location - and to the end of the stage in Cuba - was private land, much of it owned by the Lee Ranch Coal Company, several extremely large open pit mines just visible on the horizon. There was however a bit of BLM land interspersed here and there, and we knew that we'd need to find camp somewhere in those areas. With just under two hours until sunset, we decided to look for something that would shelter us from the 30mph southwesterly winds - and 45mph gusts - that were predicted overnight.

With that criterion stored away, our heads were back on swivels as the road undulated across the desert landscape. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something that wasn't quite as natural as everything around it and pointed to @mrs.turbodb - "look!"

Patricio Trujillo 5-12-1903​

Luis Mesas was here, in the year 1894.​

A little more recently, Roger Pino, in 1960.​

Completely by coincidence, we'd stumbled upon our own Inscription Rock on what has clearly been a path of travel for hundreds of years. It was a cool find, and reinforced for me the joy of discovery. So often these days, people just want to know "where to go," in order to see something cool or get that #instafabulous photo. A beeline to a set of GPS coordinates. But that kind of travel - more often than not - means that the surprises like this one are missed, and those discoveries can be the most memorable.

Flush with our find, we continued on towards the BLM boundary, my hope that a distant mesa would be our stopping point for the evening. As luck would have it, Mesa Sarcio couldn't have been more perfect. Straddling the property line, the southwestern half on private land but the wind-sheltered northeastern half under the purview of the BLM!

A primo location!​

The horseshoe shaped mesa allowed us to nestle into the fold, cutting wind speeds by 75% or so. And, the interior perimeter was eroded enough that after a quick bite to eat, we were able to hike up to the summit to enjoy a spectacular sunset.

Yeah, this is our best camp site so far. By a long shot.​

Sunstar on the horizon.​

The purples only come out when the sun isn't there to chase them away.​

It'd been another successful day, but I'd be remiss to mention that I was a bit worried as we nodded off to sleep. 0-3 inches of rain were predicted overnight and into the following morning. While a little rain might not have been a problem, the ground we were camped on could present some rather significant issues if it got too wet - the silty material turning to goopy mud.

There wasn't much we could do now, we'd just have to deal with that in the morning.

The Following Morning...

I'd set my alarm early - partly because I hoped that the mesa would afford a nice sunrise view, and partly because I wanted to be able to get out fast if the ground around us was turning to soup.

The news was both good and bad. On the good side, there'd been no rain at all overnight, and it didn't appear that any was due for at least a few more hours. On the other hand, it was cloudy on the eastern horizon, so a spectabulous sunrise wasn't going to be in the cards. Not that the morning light was dreary or drab by any means.

Cerro Alesna in the morning glow.​

The wind was still ripping through camp; we were lucky to have found such a sheltered spot.​

Not knowing how long we really had until the rains came - if they came at all - we didn't hang around to find out, and there were still long shadows cascading across the landscape as we pushed further into the rocky New Mexico outback.

I could get lost here for a week.​

Hoodoos are created when a harder layer of rock (often volcanic) is deposited on top of relatively soft material (usually sedimentary). The stone cap then protects the column from the elements.​

Looking the right direction, and with the wide-angle lens, the perspectives and colors were magical.​

Hoodoos weren't all we saw and the road traced a northeasterly course towards Cuba. Crevices in the flatlands were plentiful, and we dipped in and out of the myriad of washes a few times. The badlands were a good reminder that this area was soft and that we really didn't want to be here when it rained.

One of nature's fractals.​

Battleship Mesa. On the hunt.​

I mentioned earlier that there were several volcanic plugs along this section of trail. Cerro Alesna was the most dramatic (by far), and Cabezon Peak was certainly the tallest. But I'd say the dual plugs of Cerro Parido were up there in the running for most interesting. The thought - that there was a volcano here with not one, but two vents - and the preservation of that form over all these years... well, that's pretty neat to wrap your head around.

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Reminded us of Three Fingers Rock (a triple volcanic plug) in the Owyhee Canyonlands.​

A few miles later, we got a bit of a surprise. Here we'd been, driving along on what we thought was the valley floor, mesas rising up around us. But then, as we rounded a bend, an even lower valley opened up below us - we'd been driving on a mesa the entire time!

Though the sun wasn't in the best position for photos, I really liked the lighting over the valley.​

Over the course of the next several miles, the light became more filtered - high clouds obscuring direct sunlight.​

We continued on - past Cabezon Peak ("big head") - before turning north. The Pueblo and Navajo Indians believe that the peak has religious significance, and while we didn't have a chance to hike it, remnants of their visits are still visible to those who do. One Navajo myth goes thusly: after a giant was slain upon Mount Taylor, his head remained as Cabezon Peak and his blood congealed to form the Malpais, or bad-land volcanic flow south of the peak.

Despite nearly constant prodding from @mrs.turbodb, I got no photos of Cabezon, as the sun was almost immediately behind it, rendering it little but silhouette. I did however take a photo in the exact opposite direction.

A mini break in the clouds made for a dramatic view to the north.​

Two minutes later, our route joined up with NM-550. For 30 miles we pounded the pavement, an air of familiarity just out of our grasp. It wasn't until we crossed the Puerco Rio - technically "Pig River," though I imagine that "River of Bacon" might also be an even more tasty interpretation - that I realized we'd been here less than a week prior, as we traversed from northwest to southeast New Mexico to start the BDR!

Soon enough we were in Cuba. It was 10:00am, and we both agreed that the previous stage - no matter quickly we'd run it - was by far our favorite. In fact, it would turn out to be the only stage that we felt like was quintessential New Mexico.

Yes, a bit of a corny photo to represent Cuba. What can I say, we must have been hungry.​

And so, still having not eaten breakfast, we fueled up for the last time and set off on the final leg. We had no idea at the time that we wouldn't make it far before mud became a major factor. Oh, joy!

 

Cuba to Colorado - A Sloppy Finish - NMBDR 7
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Stage 7 of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route - Cuba to Colorado.​

We'd entered Cuba from the south on NM-550, and we exited the same direction - though on different pavement - for the first 20 miles of the stage. Cuba then, is a stop for fuel - and a good one at that, as the price is quite reasonable - but not much more than that, route wise, anyway.

In 1769, Spanish Governor Pedro Fermin de Mendinueta made the San Joaquin del Nacimiento land grant to 35 pioneering families who had settled the headwaters of the Rio Puerco in 1766. The community was later abandoned, owing to raids by frontier Indian tribes, but was resettled in the late 1870s. Originally known as Nacimiento or La Laguna, it was renamed Cuba when the post office was established in 1887.​

Eventually turning east, we entered the Carson National Forest to overcast skies full of "yep, it's still raining," clouds. We crossed our fingers that the rain would be light, that we would thread our way through it, or that at the very least, the roads would be rocky and drain well.

Maybe it'll clear up.

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Once we hit dirt, it was immediately clear that dry roads were not in our future - puddles appearing almost immediately. What we didn't know at the time was that we were actually lucky with the condition of the roads, but we'll get to that in a second. A few miles in, we noticed a BMW SUV pulled over on the side of the road, its driver wandering around in that way that says, something's not quite right.

I slowed down and rolled down my window to ask if she was OK, and the look of relief on her face was palpable. Turns out that she'd been camped a little further up a side road with several of her friends, and she was pretty sure that they were stuck - she'd barely made it out due to the mud. Seeing our Tacoma, she was sure that they'd been saved.

That made one of us.

We got directions and names and let her know that we'd do our best as we headed into 5" deep muck that stuck to the tires before being flug every which way onto the sides and top of the truck.

Sure enough, a mile up the road, we ran into her friends. Two sedans and an F-150 pulling an airstream were bogged down in the middle of the road. Luckily, the lack of driving experience was a bigger factor to their situation than the lack of 4WD, and with a bit of coaching and some strategic wheel placement, I was able to get them moving quickly enough - and in the correct directions - to make it out, alive.

Our new friends, heading home full of thanks.​

While helping them out, I asked how long it'd been raining and the F-150 owner told me it rained reasonably heavily all through the night, letting up around 8:30am - only a few hours before we arrived. I didn't know whether to count our blessings, or fear what was ahead. A little of both, I guess.

Headed back in the right direction, plenty of water still on the road.​

For now, anyway, the sun was trying to force its way through the clouds, and we splashed through puddles and threw mud in the air as we made our way toward Teakettle Rock.

I suppose there's a teakettle in there somewhere. More interesting - to me - was this random rock sitting in a grassy field.​

10:30am when we parked in the pullout at the rock, we took the opportunity to eat a late breakfast as we wandered around, looking for the best angle, and bah-humbugging about the various names and profanity etched into the rock's lower surfaces.

We only hung around as long as it took to finish our bowls of cereal, the thought of finishing the route now urging us on. Really, it'd likely come down to how much pavement this segment contained - as well as whether the weather held out. Only time would tell. For now, we enjoyed the views around us as we neared the Abiquiu Reservoir.

A striking range in the Carson NF.​

There are likely countless ruins and rock art sites to explore. If only we were closer, and had the time.​

Feeding our - perhaps premature - thoughts of completion, the final 10 miles of our approach to the reservoir were paved. Few places was it more apparent how dire the drought situation was in New Mexico than at the Abiquiu Dam. In fact, though they were still releasing water into the river below the dam to drive the small 16.5MW power plant, the water levels were so low that the dam wasn't serving any purpose.

The dam is out of frame, to the left.​

Note the two layers of material - the dam was raised by the Army Corps of Engineers in 1986. It has never filled beyond 30% capacity.​

As a side note, we found a perfectly nice 1st gen parked inside the dam gates. Can the internet find its owner?​

From the dam, the BDR split. The normal route traversed down the downstream side of the dam and then followed the river to pavement at the small town of Abiquiu before continuing on pavement some 15 more miles to El Rito. The expert route followed the river, but then backtracked to the dam and went up and over a couple forest service roads along Abiquiu Ridge, meeting up with the route in El Rito. Obviously, we were taking the non-paved route.

Nice red dirt and badlands along the Abiquiu River.​

As we traversed Abiquiu Ridge, the sun finally broke through the clouds and things were looking fine; to our west. We were, of course, headed north.​

The 'expert' trail was - clearly - rated by someone other than us.​

Fifteen miles later, we were pulling into El Rito, our last expert section of trail completed. From here on out, there was only one track to follow as we trekked the final 100 miles to the border. It was 2:30pm and the clouds were looking fancy.

Fancy clouds.​

The fancy clouds didn't last long. The strong winds from the night before had persisted all day - and were forecast to continue for several more - and as we headed out of El Rito, things were once again looking ominous. Maybe even a little more-so than previously.

The pavement is dry and there's a shadow, but I'll be darned if it doesn't look a little blustery up ahead.​

I took this photo mostly because of the bright orange stripe that's peeking out through the trees. Turns out, the "let's ignore them now that we're on dirt" clouds add some nice drama.​

We continued along for 30 more minutes with little-to-no rain hitting the Tacoma. It was surreal, actually - our trail seeming to thread the needle between storm cells, lightning flashing to our left and right. Even the ground was dry, as though some hidden force field was working in our favor.

Until it wasn't.

At least the truck was getting ... a nice wash?​

With nothing to do but carry on, that's exactly what we did. And, except for the fact that we couldn't see very far into the distance, and that the "car wash" was in a constant battle with the "mud puddles," things proceeded as usual. Heck, I even braved the elements - and didn't melt when the huge rain drops hit me - to check out an old cabin we happened to come upon in the middle of the storm.

Run, run, run to the covered porch.​

Pretty clean in there, actually, save for that missing piece of drywall.​

Run, run, run back to the truck. (And I'm soaked.)​

After 40 minutes or so the rain stopped - or at least became intermittent - and the clouds in the sky began to break up a bit. We still had a good 30 miles to go before the end of the segment, and both of us realized that getting to Colorado in the dark - with nowhere to camp - might not be the ideal way to round out the BDR. Plus, we weren't in any huge rush to wrap things up, so we decided to start looking for a camp site even though it was still only 6:00pm.

I must say, the forests in New Mexico seemed well maintained - tree spacing and limbing was clearly a priority to help with fires, but there was no clear-cutting as there is in the Pacific Northwest. It was refreshing to see.​

Not far from the logging - but far enough that we wouldn't be able to hear anything if they started work - we found a nice little knoll that we could call home for the evening. The ground was still pretty wet, and we had no idea what the rain situation would be in the coming hours, so the first order of business was to setup the tent and get dinner taken care of while there were patches of blue in the sky above our heads.

Though there was no view, this camp site - and the colorful knoll we were on - was rather idyllic and radiated "spring time."​

A leisurely, no-cook, dinner ensued - pasta salad for me, and Spanish Tortilla for the lady - and we lazily prepped for bed, before I grabbed the laptop to transfer photos from the microSD card, and @mrs.turbodb grabbed her knitting to keep ourselves occupied for an hour in the tent.

It was 8:30pm - just after sunset - when we set our hobbies aside and broke out our reading materials. I think I lasted a sum total of 8 minutes before falling asleep, just as the rain started to pelt us from above.

The Following Morning...

We had a few showers through the night, but nothing that lasted for more than about 15 minutes, and perhaps 40 minutes of showers in all. By the time we woke up - just after sunrise now, even without an alarm - it was still cloudy but it was also pretty obvious that the rains were done... for a while.

All that was left was the 45 minutes it took to dry off the tent with a towel, before we could get under way.

Everything seems brighter after a rain.​

From our camp site, we had perhaps three miles to go until we crossed US-64, and then we'd climb to elevations near 10,000 feet - near San Antonio Mountain - and duck in-and-out of high-mountain meadows, to round out the remainder of the trip into Colorado.

Not too muddy!​

Good morning sleepy head, err, horse.​

At one point during our ascent, there were a series of watering reservoirs for the local steak population. As we sped by the first one, I noticed the crazy green color but thought it must have been a reflection or that my mind was playing tricks. At the second, I hesitated to stop because I had some nice uphill momentum.

I couldn't pass by the third pool without stopping. Glad that's not my drinking water! At least the steaks are getting plenty of veggies, I suppose. ​

Popping out to the high meadows was cool experience. I'm sure it'd have been even more dramatic with blue - or cloud-puff - skies, but it really felt like spring up here at 10K feet.

Meadows for miles.​

I picked a few flowers for my sweetie, but wary of bug infestations that have entered the truck this way in the past, I showed them to her and then tossed them back on the ground.

​

The roads got a little muddier up here - it must have rained a bit more.​

A few times, relatively large puddles covered the road. Like a good driver, I took these slowly, keenly aware that the internet might scold me for plowing through them. "Setting a bad example," and "tearing up the road when I should really be notifying the land owner so they can fix it." Finally though, I couldn't resist. At what would turn out to be the final puddle, @mrs.turbodb hopped out and snapped a few photos as I gingerly worked the speedometer up to 20mph.

Boy, what a rebel.

Everyone needs to have a little fun now and then.​

And seriously people, relax.​

No roads were harmed in the taking of these photos.​

From the high meadows, we dropped down only slightly into groves and groves of aspen. Their leaves fluttering in the wind and their bright white trunks rising toward the sky, we couldn't help but to comment on the fact that this place must be magical during the fall months. Even now, the green grass and red Indian Paintbrush made for a stunning display.

Prepping for fall.​

The final few miles of trail threaded their way through a relatively narrow canyon before crossing the historic Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Rail Line just a stone throw away from the Colorado border. We savored these last couple of miles, even playing around - on what we thought were decommissioned lines - for a few minutes, before continuing on.

The final stretch along Rio de Los Pinos.​

​

This was a mistake - this line is still in operation, so don't drive on the tracks. Interesting though to see the narrowness of the gauge, compared to standard gauge that we fit on perfectly in the Mojave Preserve.​

Before we knew it, we were done. It was only just 9:30am and we'd reached the Colorado border and its always-friendly-and-strikingly-true welcoming sign. Of course, looking the opposite direction, there was nothing indicating the transition to New Mexico!

We made it! Welcome to Colorful Colorado. ​

From here, the route winds its way down to a little town of Antonito, where fuel and food can be had before the inevitable trip home. For us, however, this would not be the end. We had grand plans for the next couple of days, and none of those plans included filling up with gas right away!

 

I think we're missing some pics.

 

Nice!
I think that porch was in My Cousin Vinny.

 

That's what I saw too.

 

Fixed it up, thanks for letting me know. Side effect of converting from the blog to TW for a "non-normally formatted set of photos," so you can always head over there if something is wonky here. I try to catch most stuff when I post, but I'm sure stuff will slip through from time to time.

 

Wow, That's a Lot of Pavement - NMBDR Epilogue
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

The New Mexico Backcountry Discovery route is our 5th BDR in as many years. Through the running of each one, @mrs.turbodb and I are - as you can imagine - regularly comparing the current BDR to the past ones. I figured that though I've never done it before, I ought to jot down some of our thoughts - if only to aid our memory in the future.

I like to think of it - a little bit - as a Rig Review for the BDR route.

TL;DR - The NMBDR contained a lot of pavement and wasn't at all what we envisioned as far as New Mexico landscape was concerned. Overall, it is our least favorite BDR to date, though we still had a good time as a result of the various detours (side trips) that we took to see things "nearby" the route as we made our way through the state.

Wow, with that stellar summary, let's dive into the details a bit more. Because, we actually had a good time.

The Roads

Back on pavement, again.​

Every BDR is a mix of secondary dirt roads (think of ungraded two-tracks), primary dirt/gravel roads (think of graded Forest Service roads, with gravel laid down), and pavement. Generally, it seems that perhaps 10% is paved and then there's an even split between primary and secondary dirt. Not so in New Mexico. This route had perhaps 25-30% pavement (a lot), 65% well-graded dirt (allowing pavement speeds), and only perhaps 75 miles of secondary dirt roads. It was pitiful, really. Every day we'd find ourselves muttering - multiple times - "back on pavement, again."

I really don't know what the deal was when planning this route. Perhaps the route was constructed to allow travel through the monsoon season, when copious amounts of rain could render secondary dirt roads impassable. Perhaps an effort was made to widen the appeal of this BDR since it is one of the more recently routed (in 2016). Or perhaps the roads have been significantly improved since the route was created. Whatever the reason, we weren't thrilled from that perspective.

In fairness, the BDR creators do say that it is one of the easier BDRs, but ranking it harder than Idaho seems...strange.

A final thought. The BDR is created by motorcyclists, primarily for motorcyclists. I can see how this route would be nicer for that mode of transportation. Even so, with a couple exceptions (which have paved bypasses), most of the route could be done on a Goldwing.

The Scenery / Landscape

Are we in New Mexico, or California?​

Some of the scenery on the BDR was fantastic, but there was only one stage where we really felt like we were in New Mexico - Stage 6, Grants to Cuba. For much of the rest of the trip, we felt like we were in the Sierras of Northern California. Dry forests of Ponderosa Pine were plentiful, and many times these tree tunnels prevented views of the surrounding area.

We'd come to New Mexico expecting desert. A landscape defined by open spaces, mesas, and colorful rock formations. Something a little more like a cross between Nevada, Arizona, and Utah's Cedar Mesa - that kind of thing. We know that exists in New Mexico - we saw it on Stage 6, and we've each visited before, perhaps setting our expectations for this trip.

Additionally, New Mexico is known for its Native American history. Rock art, ruins, and artifacts abound. The route touches on none of that - at all. While we understand the desire to protect those resources, there are plenty of examples of this key aspect of New Mexico that are well-known, stabilized, and actively monitored (in parks, monuments, etc.) Visiting several - or at the very least one - of these sites along a "backcountry" route would seem appropriate.

The Side Trips

​

For all the complaints we had with the roads and the chosen path through the state, the side trips on this BDR were fantastic. Without them, I think we might question whether we should have done the NMBDR at all. With them, I think we both enjoyed the trip, and every day ended up with a highlight or two. Here's how I'd rank the side trips, should someone else want to do the BDR+ that we did:

1. Carlsbad Caverns National Park (stage 1, or prior to starting). Other-worldly. Plan on spending at least 5 hours getting to the park and walking the caves. Hike in, don't take the elevator, or you'll miss some of the best stuff.
2. El Morro National Monument (stage 5). This is New Mexico. Indian and Emigrant history all tied up on one place. Plan on 3 hours in the monument, and be sure to hike to the top of the mesa.
3. Various Fire Lookouts (many stages). Always great for views, our favorites were Monjeau Lookout and La Mosca Lookout. Chatting with the occupants can be a little hit-or-miss, but Bearwallow Lookout as fabulous for that. Allocate driving to/from the lookout, and 45 minutes at the top.
4. Sitting Bull Falls (stage 1, or prior to starting). This is a fun little stop with a short hike to a spectacular waterfall. Go in the morning - as soon as they open - to avoid the crowds and have the place to yourself, and good light for photos. Less than an hour, you can do this on the same day as Carlsbad Caverns, and by going to Sitting Bull in the morning, you can stay cool in the Carlsbad Caverns during the heat of the day.
5. Cloudcroft Trestle, aka Mexican Canyon Trestle (stage 1). If you're a fan of railroads, or trestles, or bridges, this is a great place to hop out of the truck - just pull off the side of the highway - for a few minutes to see an engineering marvel built more than a century ago.

So there it is. Overall, and enjoyable trip and I definitely want to return to New Mexico to see more of what I hoped to see on the BDR. And, while I probably won't run the NMBDR again, some of its routes can surely be used to connect various parts of the state that I'm sure are fantastic to explore.

 

Wet and Bumpy through the Alpine Loop
Part of the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (Jun 2021) trip.

Having spent the last six days on the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (NMBDR), there were a few things that needed our attention before we knew exactly what our next move would be. Pulled over where the last of the dirt hit CO-17, we each had one bar of LTE service and we set to work.

I made a quick call to Alcan Spring - in Grand Junction, CO - to check in with Lew, the new owner. Having very much liked my first set of leaf springs, I'd ordered my second set several weeks earlier. Before leaving on the trip, I'd talked to Lew and estimated that the BDR would take us a day longer than it actually did, and as such had suggested that I stop by two days from now, rather than one. Lew was super understanding and suggested that if I showed up at the end of the follow day, they could have my springs ready to go. Perfect!

@mrs.turbodb made a similarly quick call to her dad - a resident of Colorado - to let him know that we were in his home state, but pretty much as far away within the state as possible. Rather than adding several hours to our already long drive home, she worked out a plan to go camping with him later in the month. Perfect!

With those coordination's worked out, everything sort of just fell into place - we'd head over to the San Juan's, spend the afternoon and following morning running a few trails in The Alpine Loop, and then wander our way north to Grand Junction to pick up the springs on the way home.

As usual, if only it was that easy!

We turned west on CO-17, and within just a few miles we were back in New Mexico on NM-17. We wouldn't be in New Mexico long - just long enough to get fuel in Chama and then head back into Colorado toward Silverton - but as we crossed the state line, we felt like a huge weight was lifted from our shoulders.

What's this?!? After we completely finish the BDR, with several state line crossings and no 'Welcome to New Mexico' signs to speak of, we run into one now? Here? The irony.​

Now that we were on highways and fully aired up, there wasn't much to do except listen to podcasts and - if you weren't driving - nap. Miles and minutes ticked away and before we knew it, it was lunch time. We'd already seen signs for Chimney Rock National Monument, and @mrs.turbodb suggested it as a good place to stop, since it would most likely have picnic tables.

However, just as we got to the turn off, road construction was snarling traffic, so I suggested that we continue past the slowdown and find something where we wouldn't get stuck when we were done. This worked out just fine - a local campground providing shade and tables - except that we later discovered what Chimney Rock actually is. Besides the rock formation - which is what we could see from the road - the site also contains more than 200 Ancestral Puebloan homes and ceremonial buildings high above the valley floor, built more than 1,000 years ago.

Oh well - we probably couldn't have done it justice anyway, and this will give us a reason to return!

A couple hours later - now nearly 4:00pm - we found ourselves in Silverton, and the situation was... not what we expected.

This is not the best weather to enjoy the Alpine Loop.​

The San Juans were getting soaked. Even in town, the local roads were overflowing with water from the heavy downpour.​

Not sure exactly what to do - but knowing that we didn't want to drive up into the loop, only to camp in the rain and miss all the views - we decided that we might as well just take US-550 to Ouray and hope for the best from a weather perspective once we got there. We'd miss the few trails and views I'd planned to show my co-pilot, but it's not like we were going to do enough anyway to avoid a return trip.

And then, just as we were going to head out of town, the rain let up a bit. I suggested to @mrs.turbodb that, "maybe we should just drive up the Hurricane Pass Road a little way, so you can get a better view." And then, I added, "No matter what, we'll turn around after half an hour at the most."

Starting this trail was literally starting a slippery slope.​

The main, well-graded road was shorter than I remembered, and within 10 minutes we were turning up Hurricane Pass - still fully aired up and moving quickly - my hope that the clouds would clear enough that we'd see the snow-capped mountains.

Fifteen minutes in, and things were looking nice!​

Marmots were out in force! We must have seen twenty or more of these furry little guys scrambling around.​

With the rain completely stopped by now, I looked over and suggested that we go, "just a little further so we can look back on Corkscrew Gulch." I could see that my suggestion didn't land completely, so I added, "It was my absolute favorite thing when I was here last time."

We pressed on.

Since @mrs.turbodb didn't really know the lay of the land, she hadn't turned around yet to see the orange rising up behind us. What a beautiful sight!​

Eventually we got to a place where the view was so fantastic that I stopped and we both got out of the Tacoma to admire it.​

Getting back in the truck, we were at minute 24 of my 30 minute time limit. With the progress we were making, and what was turning out to be reasonable weather, I suggested - in a joking/not-joking sort of way - that. "maybe we should go back to the original plan," and just follow a few trails to Ouray, rather than go all the way back to Silverton and driving on the highway.

She was not amused.

In the end though - and after a bit of "discussion" - we did continue on - our route taking us up and over Hurricane Pass, then through California Pass and down to Animas Forks, and finally out Mineral Creek (via Engineer Pass) to Ouray.

My first time on Hurricane Pass; it was fun to drive through the - nearly melted - snow drifts. Thank you road crews!​

Higher than we'd been through all the NMBDR.​

The rain to the north actually added an interesting feel to the San Juans, the colors still as vibrant as ever around us. (Lake Como in the foreground, looking aqua!)​

​

California Pass (12,906'), looking a bit different than the last time I was here.​

Unfortunately when we arrived at Animas Forks - a place I'd not really gotten a chance to explore the first time I visited the loop - the rain was coming down in buckets. We read the information signs, but neither of us wanted to get out and explore the numerous cabins and outbuildings - it was just too wet - so we just continued on up Engineer Pass.

We should have just waited, because just as we were a little too far to turn around, the rain stopped entirely. For us though, it was too late.

We will wander your ruins eventually, Animas Forks!​

Like Hurricane Pass, Mineral Creek was a trail I'd not run previously, but we'd talked to a caravan of Jeep Cherokees when we were at the top of California Pass to ask about road conditions there, and they let us know that it wasn't bad at all - just a little rocky. So, we climbed up the bottom section of Engineer Pass and then turned down Mineral Creek - sure that we'd be in Ouray shortly.

The views abound in the San Juans, and Mineral Creek trail is no exception.​

Our descent was significantly slower than either of us expected, and I'm pretty sure that "not bad at all" is not the way @mrs.turbodb would describe the road. It was definitely rocky - but in the Alpine Loop sort of way - ledgy and off-camber, with switchbacks and steep drop-offs. It was nothing uncomfortable for me - I enjoyed it after a week of tame gravel roads - but expectations and reality for the passenger didn't match up. Still, she was a trooper through it and she definitely enjoyed the surroundings.

There are so many mines along the various roads of the loop. I could see making an entire trip of exploring them.​

Breathtaking. And a nice view, too. ​

One of the smoother sections of trail.​

Two-and-a-half hours after we set out on our little section of the Alpine loop, we transitioned from Mineral Creek Road to US-550 - the highway we'd have taken from Silverton - for the last couple miles into Ouray. Not quite to town, we stopped at Bear Creek Falls to the sound of rushing water.

Finally snuck in a photo after waiting for the selfie-sticks to vacate the premises.​

Though it hadn't taken us long, we hadn't gotten an early start either - so it was nearly 8:00pm when we found a perfect little spot north of town to eat dinner and watch the last rays of sun stream under the clouds and onto the San Juans. This range definitely holds a special place in my memories.

With a good idea where we were going to camp, and the knowledge that it'd be dark by the time we got there regardless, eating while it was still nice out seemed like the logical choice.​

The Following Morning...

Luckily for us, we'd found camp exactly where we'd hoped - on a little slice of BLM land high above Montrose, on the way to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.

​

Having completed the Alpine Loop trails earlier than expected, there were no complaints from us, adding this extra stop.

I'd never heard of Black Canyon of the Gunnison before @mrs.turbodb found it on the map while looking for ways to pass as the rain poured down on us in Silverton and we thought we wouldn't run the Alpine Loop at all. As we climbed the last few miles to the canyon rim and visitor center, she - as usual - read a bit about what we'd be seeing.

Deep, steep, and narrow.​

Black Canyon of the Gunnison has some of the steepest cliffs, oldest rock, and craggiest spires in North America.​

It's taken two million years for the Gunnison River, along with other forces of weathering, to sculpt this vertical wilderness of rock, water, and sky. The exposed rocks at the bottom of the canyon have been dated to 2 billion years old!​

Upon arriving at the visitor center, our first order of business was to wander over to the park rangers - stationed outside at folding tables and wearing masks - to enquire about how to best see the park, pick up a map, and of course show our America the Beautiful pass. But all of that was quickly forgotten as we both spotted a sign that read, "Join us for a ranger-led geology walk at 9:00am."

I knew immediately that we'd be going on this walk, and @mrs.turbodb was elated when I said I didn't mind at all. With 15 minutes to kill before the lesson began, we headed back to the Tacoma for a quick breakfast, and grabbed some water and sunscreen before setting off.

The views of the canyon really were fantastic, and once the geology lesson - which, may have been a lesson for the ranger, from @mrs.turbodb - was over, we stopped at several more overlooks just to get even more perspective.

I really liked the light for this photo - illuminating the canyon in the distance, the river running far below.​

Chasm View Overlook.​

Two thousand feet down.​

Painted Wall.​

And with that, we were done. There's certainly more to see here - and hikes down into the canyon to explore - but we didn't have time for that today. Instead, we took one last look at the stars and stripes as we drove out of the park and headed north towards Grand Junction.

We do have the most beautiful flag in the world.​

A few hours later we arrived at Alcan Spring, the weather hot once again - rain nowhere to be seen. I must say, I was a little nervous pulling into the parking lot - sort of like a fan who has watched enough of a show to feel like they "know" the actors... and actors who have no freaking clue who the fans are!

There was nothing flashy about this operation. Understated, quality work is what you get.​

Walking into the office, I mentioned who I was and that I was there to pick up my leaf springs. After bit of scrambling on the other side of the counter and I was told that my springs weren't ready.

"I talked to Lew yesterday, and he said they'd be ready this afternoon," I said - now speaking to both the saleswomen as well as another gentleman who'd joined from the back office.

Turns out that other gentleman was Lew Weldon - the new owner who bought the business from Bill Ford late in 2020 - and he quickly introduced himself before apologizing to his staff for not keeping them fully in the loop.

And then, he went out into the shop and found my springs. They weren't quite done yet, but rather than telling me to come back the next morning, or getting on his guys to finish them up, Lew stepped right in and finished up the final few steps of fabrication and assembly!

How many people have a photo of a business owner personally building their product? Not many, I'd guess!​

Twenty minutes later - the final steps complete - Lew personally measured each of the springs to ensure that it met all the custom specifications we'd discussed, and then had me back the truck up to one of the big doors and personally loaded the springs into the back of the Tacoma.

Springs acquired.​

Now that was some great customer service. And it's one of the reasons I'll keep ordering from Alcan in the future. For now though, it was time to get home. We'd been on the road - showerless - for 10 days, much of it in 100+ °F heat. It smelled like human in the truck, and we still had 20 hours of driving in front of us.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

 

Bonito Lake should be getting close to being reopened. The lake filled with sediment and ash after the Little Bear fire in 2012. They have spent the last several years dredging and removing all the dirt, ash and debris from the lake and hauling it out. I'm not sure on the plans to refill the lake, but I think the task of getting everything out is done.

The area was definitely changed after the Little Bear fire. It changed the Bonito lake and Monjeau lookout landscape for my lifetime for sure.

 

That's some awesome detail. I'm going to add it to the story, thanks!

 

Replacing My Seats with Corbeau Baja XRS...Or Not

The last few years have seen the number of miles on the Tacoma explode. It took 16 years for me to put the first 60K miles on the truck, and now - almost exactly 5 years later - it's sitting at 188,994! It's been a great ride overall, though I must say, it hasn't been quite so nice for my ass - and more importantly, back - recently.

It's the seats, of course. Over time, the foam in them wears out, and while mine are still in fantastically good shape compared to other 21-year-old seats - a fact that I owe in no small part to the custom Wet Okole Seat Covers I installed, I've felt myself sinking into them more and more, and my back sometimes hurts after 18+ hour drives.

I've really liked my seats since I installed the Wet Okole covers. I knew I was going to miss not having them.​

The Backstory

So, I decided it was time to do something about that. There are a few options of course:

1. Stick with Tacoma seats and try to make them better - either by finding new insides or entirely new seats.
2. Buy some aftermarket seats from a places like Corbeau.
3. Buy some seats from another vehicle and adapt them for the Tacoma.

All of these solutions have their pros and cons of course - and those are different for everyone. Initially, I thought I might go with option #3, because I've really liked the seats in @mrs.turbodb's 2008 Audi. Every time I sit in them, I feel like I'm hugged by the seat and floating on a cloud at the same time. Unfortunately, it's a station wagon, so the seats don't fold forward - ruling them out. In fact, it turns out to be difficult to find seats that maintain the functionality of 1st gen Tacoma seats and fit in a Tacoma (essentially, a manual-everything seat from some sort of coupe). Plus, buying new OEM seats is expensive - on the order of $2500 (or more!) per seat in many cases.

I didn't really consider option #1, because I figured that a completely new seat - be it from an auto maker or company that specialized in seats - would necessarily be better.

So that left option #2 and I started looking for the perfect seat. My criteria were (in order):

• Comfortable for long drives.
• Maintains the ability to slide + fold forward for getting stuff out of the back of the cab.
• Reasonably easy to fit into the truck.
• Seat heaters (because my regular passenger really likes them).
• Lumbar support.
• Good looks.

The first two of these were must-haves, and the rest were high up on my want list. Looking online, the Corbeau Baja XRS seats seemed to tick all the boxes - I hoped.

The perfect seat?​

• Comfort - they are suspension seats, using a combination of injection molded foam as well as woven strapping, to provide comfort and support for extended trips.
• Functionality - they fold forward
• Fit in the truck - Corbeau offers a custom mount for 1st gen Tacomas to make them a bolt-in seat.
• Heaters and Lumbar - available as options.
• Good looks - they looked great online.

The problem was, I couldn't find a vendor - within the state of Washington - that had a set in-stock that I could sit my tukas in, in order to verify comfort. So, I gave Corbeau a call and chatted with Tyson to see what he suggested.

Tyson was great, and suggested that I order the seats from Corbeau and then try them when they arrived to see if they were comfortable. If not, he'd send me some return labels so that I wouldn't be out any money - just as thought I'd gone to a local retailer to try them. That sounded great to me, and a couple days later I placed my order.

Christmas in July!​

The Installation

OK, so they aren't quite bolt-in - not for me anyway. But they're close.

The process begins - obviously - with taking the Tacoma seats out. I figured that before doing so, I out to measure a few things, so I could better compare the OEM seats with the Corbeaus, once the swap was complete.

Documenting "before."​

Removing my trusty seat. Possibly for the last time.​

Hoping that everything would just be a bolt-in process, I figured it was a good idea to verify that the bracket would fit before I went to all the trouble to attach it to the seats.

Looking good so far.​

The only concern that had about the bracket was that it sits much closer to the carpet than the OEM bracket. That won't be a problem for me on the driver side, but on the passenger side, I have the ham radio mounted to the bottom of the seat, so I knew I'd have to figure something out for that.

Next was mounting the bracket to the seat - a bolt-on process - and installing the whole assembly in the truck. I was about 15 minutes into the project at this point and feeling pretty good about things.

Made for each other. Mounting hardware is included.​

Then, I sat in the seat for the first time. Immediately I could tell that I was sitting too low. For me - at 5'9" tall - it suddenly felt like I was sitting in a 3rd gen Tacoma, and I could barely see over the hood. It was time to take some measurements.

​

Essentially, the Corbeau sat an inch lower than I was used to. I was surprised how noticeable that was.​

So, with what was obviously a test fit complete, I unbolted the seat and pulled it out of the truck. It was time to raise it an inch and also get the seatbelt receptacle installed. And for that, I needed to buy some parts. The quantities below are per seat.

• 36" of 1.5" diameter aluminum round bar - to make the four (4) 1.25" spacers that I'd use to raise the seat up to my preferred height. This was a lot longer length than I needed, but I figured I'd be able to use it in the future, and it was nice to have a baseball bat length of aluminum bar to swing around.
• 4, M8x1.25, 45mm long stainless steel socket head cap screws - to secure the spacers between the mounting bracket and chair slide.
• 4, M8x1,25 stainless steel nylon nuts
• 1, 7/16-20, 0.5" long Grade 8 hex bolts - to secure the seatbelt receptacle to the Corbeau bracket.
• 1, 12mm ID, 17mm OD flanged brass bushings - to adapt the 7/16" bolts to the seatbelt receptacle.
• 1, 7/16" Grade 8 washers - to allow movement between the seatbelt receptacle and the Corbeau bracket.

All the parts.​

I decided to install the spacers first. First, I cut four (4) 1.25" long spacers from the 3' on round bar I'd purchased. Then, I used the drill press to drill a center hole in each spacer.

Fancy spacers.​

With the spacers in hand, installation was easy. I removed the existing socket head cap screws that secured the bracket rails to the frame, and replace them with the spacers and longer hardware that I'd purchased.

The "help shorty see over the hood" bracket mod.​

With the height taken care of, it was time to attach the seatbelt receptacle. There were a few steps to that process, and the first was removing the receptacle from the OEM seat. A #2 Philps screwdriver, and a 5/8" socket were all that were necessary for this step.

Remove the cover with a single screw and a clip near the front of the trim.​

Interestingly, this is a 5/8" nut. Probably some NTSB requirement in the U.S.​

Next, I had to cut the flanged brass bushing so that it would hold the seat belt receptacle snugly. To do this, I drilled a hole in a piece of wood, inserted the bushing, and then cut through both with the bandsaw. Worked fantastically!

Prepping for the cut. Push the bushing into the hole, then carefully cut through the wood and bushing.​

One down, one to go.​

I also discovered that for the seatbelt receptacle to fit next to the center console, I needed to bend it slightly from its stock form. I did this with my 20 ton shop press, but a vice or other method would work just as well.

Before and after.​

With that, it was a simple matter of sandwiching the seatbelt receptacle between the flanged bushing and washer, and threading the bolt into the Corbeau bracket.

Seat belt receptacle installed.​

And then, it was time to install the seat into the Tacoma. Having already installed it once before, the second installation was a snap, and everything fit well. The aluminum spacers also meant that I'd have plenty of room under the seat to secure the ham radio - just as I had with the OEM seats. Perfect!

Driver side complete. Repeat for passenger side.​

The spacers give plenty of room under the seat to lose things.​

Access to the Xtracab is great.​

I haven't really had a chance to try out the seats in any meaningful way yet, but for now I'm only installing the driver side just in case it's not as comfortable as I hope. My plan is to put it through the paces on my next trip in a week or so, and then install the passenger side if everything goes well.

First Impressions

I've driven about 20 miles in the Corbeau Baja XRS seat - just around town running errands over the last few days since I installed the seats; no long trips yet. Unfortunately, I'm planning to send them back. Here's what I like and don't like.

Like. I really like the bolsters on the seats. They support both my legs (seat bolsters) and my body (back bolsters) unlike the OEM seats, and would help keeping my body aligned on long drives. I also like the height of the seat. With the spacers, it's about a quarter inch higher than the OEM seat was and that puts me at a better driving angle, even though it's not much different. The look is great as well. I already had two-tone seats, but I really like the red center stripe of the Corbeau's - matches the TRD accent color well.

Dislike. By far the biggest issue is comfort - the seat is just too firm. Every time I climb into the Tacoma now, it almost feels like I'm sitting in a wooden chair. It's not quite that bad, but sitting in the seat is jarring as I go over bumps. I also don't really like the lumbar support. It inflates by a hand pump, which is fine and works quickly, but its position in the seat isn't quite right for my body - it feels too high. Lastly, I don't like the seatbelt connection to the bracket. As the chair moves forward and back, the seatbelt receptacle should as well (and did with the OEM seat). As it is now, it can get "lost" behind the seat or be too far forward when the seat is back.

I could actually overlook everything except the comfort and be happy with these seats if they had a similar feel to our Audi seats that I mentioned above. But they don't, and for me that's a showstopper. After-all, seats are the main connection point between the driver and vehicle; I interact with the seat more than any other component in the Tacoma. And so, I'm back to looking for another solution.

I will say that Corbeau - specifically Tyson - has been great through this entire process. I'd still highly recommend them to anyone, knowing that it's all personal preference if a seat feels good or not - so my experience may not be yours!

Now What?

In the short term, I've swapped the seat bottom between the driver and passenger seats. This is not a hard process - the steps are as follows. (Note: Swapping the seat back is a similar process, but I didn't feel the need to do that with my seats.)

1. Remove the seats from the Tacoma.
2. Use a #2 Philips screwdriver and some careful prying to remove the plastic seat trim along both sides.
3. Use a 5/8" socket to remove the four (4) bolts that secure the seat bottom to the frame.
4. Swap seat bottoms and reassemble.

Access to, and unbolting of, the seat bottom.​

Seat surgery to get a few thousand more miles out of the original seats.​

Since the passenger seat has many fewer buttock-miles on it than the driver, this should tide me over for the time being. Of course, it won't solve the problem forever, so I'm still on the lookout for good seats that meet my criteria (either option 2 or option 3). I'm also seriously considering option 1 again - rejuvenating the OEM seats with new, slightly firmer foam that will hopefully last another 190K miles.

 

I liked the seats in my RS4. In General, Audi have some comfy seats.

Why not try to get a set of seats out of wrecked car?

 

I’m running scion TC seats. Small amount of fab work to make new feet. They are pretty comfy I’m only 5’10” though and they do sit a little higher than stock.

 

I've been thinking about upgrading my seats as well and have been eyeing Corbeaus so thanks for the write up. Do you think they could have gotten more comfortable in time when more broken in?