AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

You should check out Mastercraft racing seats.

I love mine and they are plenty supple and cushioning in the padding department. They've broken in really well. The lumbar adjustment is also spot on for me. I'm 6' height for reference. Bolstering is the perfect amount imo. They also have the same options for seat heaters and other things too, similar to Corbeau and PRP (other than the custom stitching you can order through PRP).

I think @Speedytech7 has/had the bucket seat version of their seat in his single cab. He had some good things to say about them as well.

I ran into the same thing you did with the seatbelt not moving with the seat slide though. The mounting point on the bracket is disconnected from the seat itself.
Although there was a tab on the seat that I was able to mount the buckle receptacle to (with some modification to the receptacle bracket though).

I would highly recommend them and they seem to check a lot of the boxes that you're looking for in a seat.

EDIT: forgot to mention that their customer service is also fantastic. Forget who I was dealing with, but he gave me his personal number to text him back and forth when I was having problems with one of the seat sliders.

 

Great write up on the seats. I didn't realize that you could swap the seat cushions over and that it is that easy to do. I have been thinking about replacing my front seats, but I am definitely going to try the cushion swap first! Thanks for posting this.

 

I agree that Audi seats are generally great (and said as much in the write-up). Our A4 seats are super comfy. The biggest issues with Audi in my opinion are the following. If you can tell me how to work around them, I'm all ears:

1. I need something that folds forward (since I used the xtracab space a lot). That means I'm limited to coupe seats, I think.
2. I need seats that are manual (no powered). I think this means I want old seats. I've heard that 2002 A4 seats are all manual, but I've not seen any newer all-manual seats.
3. I want new seats. I don't want something that someone's sat in for 50K or 100K miles - that's the problem with my current seats. I feel like #3 and #2 offset each other and end up defining a null set.

This could be good, since they are effectively Toyota seats. Do you know if the seats can be purchased new? (even better, got a part number?)

Not sure if I mentioned this in the story, but I've actually been thinking about running around to dealers and saying, "I want to test sit in any car you have, as long as it has manual seats that fold forward. Bonus points if I can buy the seats from the parts department."

Not for me. Even as suspension seats, there was essentially no padding in them. I don't have a ton of personal padding either, so for me they just weren't going to work. If you like a firmer seat, or can bring your own padding, they might be fine. I would definitely recommend finding a dealer to sit in them before you buy though. Corbeau is pretty good about having dealers around, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Thanks for all this; I'll look around to see if there's somewhere I can try them out around here.

Swapping the cushion has been great so far. Almost makes me want to just wait on new seats. Except that I know that if I wait, then I'll be in pain again in a year or two and won't have done anything about getting new seats, hahahahaha. So, I'm actively trying to figure it out and hope to have new seats by Christmas. @Speedytech7 gave me a lead on a price-is-no-object option, and I must admit, they were very comfy. So now I need to figure out if price is an object or not, and if it's not, if I need to get one for the lady too, in order to live to sit in them.

 

Nice write-up on the seats.How is the new bottom?

edit: NVM, I see you answered my question.

 

My 2003 A4 had manual seats. I don’t recall whether they folded forward. The A5 does. But those are powered.

I would love the seats from my 4Runner or Honda. Both are adjustable in height. When you said the new ones were an inch lower, I was all about that. Right now, I have to be very careful because the mirror completely blocks anything on the right side (I have to duck).

 

Does the price-is-no-object option involve scheel-mann seats?

 

Yeah, I already looked into getting "new" 2002 A4 seats. I could probably piece them together by purchasing all the parts. Something like $4500 per seat to do that though.

The Corbeau were certainly lower. You can see the spacers I had to add to bring them up to "stock" height. Most of the "lowness" comes from the bracket, which sits considerably lower to the floor. No storing things under the Corbeau seats if you don't install spacers, that's for sure. Maybe a pair of gloves and that's it.

Cheaper than a 2002 A4 seat, at least.

Edit: Also, how does everyone know about these except me? I gotta crawl out from under my rock more often.

 

Too bad you're not still in california otherwise you could come try mine out.

I believe the 4wheelparts in Oakland or something had some when I was looking for mine. Not sure if there area any where you're located, but could call around to some of those places

 

If you're not completely unhappy with the stock seats and just want new padding, what about an upholstery shop? Probably cheap and effective, unless there are other things you don't like about the seats.

Maybe a later model TRD seat from the salvage yard?

 

Since you're running seat covers what about getting 1/4" +/- foam and build up the areas needed on your stock seats under the covers. With an electric carving knife the foam cuts pretty easy. Once in place and comfy use spray glue to hold it all together. Every race seat I've had I've added foam here and there to make them more comfy.

 

For the Scion tC seats I’m not sure if they can be bought new but possibly. Mine came out of a 2006 and were in great shape. Also most of the junk yards around my area had a couple of the cars in their yard. So you could also grab two additional seat cushions for storage and to swap on the seats if they start to wear down. In my area pick and pull only charges like $40 a seat, so it makes it really affordable.

 

Thanks for the offer! We have some 4

Weird, I could have sworn that I mentioned an upholstery shop in the story, but I didn't. Definitely an option on the list, and likely the way I would go as opposed to buying OEM foam.

I wondered about this. On our NMBDR trip, I used a folded towel on the seat to fill in some of the sag. Worked OK, and would have been better under the cover. I'd really want this to be a temporary solution though, with the long term one being some better seats. My thinking is that the seats are not a place to skimp, since it's the thing you spend the most time interacting with in the truck.

Good to know the year, thanks. Perhaps I'll make a day of driving around to dealers and junk yards in search of the perfect seat.

 

Just as I was thinking that no one mentioned seats from a 2nd gen. My TRD Sport seats are all manual and fold forward. Plus, with them being the TRD seat, they have "hip boosters" or something like that.

Not cheap though new: https://parts.olathetoyota.com/oem-...0YWNvbWEmeT0yMDExJnQ9YmFzZSZlPTQtMGwtdjYtZ2Fz

 

I did the cushion swap “mod” today and drove a few minutes to work. Man what a difference! I ended up swapping both the lower and upper sections. I feel like I put in a brand new seat on the drivers side.

Thanks again @turbodb for posting this up!

 

Smoke in the Sawtooths

It's been over a year since I was last in Idaho, and boy did I miss it! So, after spending a few weeks at home upon returning from the New Mexico Backcountry Discovery Route (NMBDR), and with @mrs.turbodb heading out on a camping trip with her dad, late July seemed like the perfect time for me to whip up a little something in the Sawtooths.

The key word there being "seemed."

I'd been collecting places to go - some of them from roads not travelled on earlier trips, others discovered online one way or the other, and one in particular that I'd seen a trip report from Ben about. With a bit more route planning research, I soon had a nice little loop constructed that would wind through some of Idaho's most beautiful landscape and give me a nice combination of driving and hiking over a five-day period.

That is, if things had gone to plan.

I hit the road around 8:00am on Monday morning. With the sun shining down through a bright blue sky, and only a 12-hour drive to my first camp site, I found myself wondering why I'd been doing the 18- to 24-hour drives of late.

It was somewhere in Oregon that I got my first inkling that the trip might not be quite as idealistic as I'd originally envisioned. It started harmlessly enough - a summer time haze creeping across the landscape. But soon it was clear that this was no normal haze - this was smoke from the Bootleg Fire burning in southern Oregon. Initially carried north, and then east, by the jetstream, I'd heard that it was affecting residents as far east as New York.

I just hadn't put it together that my destination was directly in that path.

I held out hope that it would clear up as I got into the mountains, but as I passed through Banks and into the Sawtooth National Forest, it wasn't looking good.

Still pretty, but not the crisp, blue skies I was eagerly anticipating.​

The drive from Banks to Stanley on ID-21 is one I will never tire of.​

It was evening by the time I was closing in on Stanley and got my first real glimpse of the Sawtooths in the distance. They were - as I knew they would be - obscured by smoke. I stopped at a favorite rest area to take a closer look.

Dramatically different than the last time I'd been here.​

​

The last time (Two-and-a-Half Days in Idaho).​

Already, I was starting to wonder if the rest of the trip was worth doing. After all, I'd planned much of it around the expansive, craggy views that usually blanketed the area, themselves now blanketed in smoke. I decided to leave the decision for later - playing it day-by-day - and fueled up in Stanley ($4.25/gal ) before heading to the Phyllis Lake trailhead to find camp in the dark.

A calm morning.​

When I awoke the next morning - climbing out of bed around 6:00am - I'd gotten a good night sleep in this quiet little section of the woods. It'd rained a few times throughout the night, but temps were warm and everything was already dry. The rain seemed to tamp down the smoke a bit, and with only a half mile between me and Phyllis Lake, I decided that there was no better time for a pre-breakfast hike than ... before breakfast.

A happy little bridge.​

The trail to Phyllis was in great shape and before long I was standing at the water's edge, staring across the rippled surface at the scree fields in the distance.

Yes, there were many - many - fish jumping here.​

For a minute or two I considered walking around the lake, but decided that I had better take advantage of the little bits of blue I saw in the sky and push onward toward the longer, two-lake hike I had planned for the day.

A glassy surface as the already-calm breeze abated.​

I paused for a moment at the stream that slowly drained out of Phyllis Lake.​

Back at camp, I folded up the tent and polished off a big bowl of cereal before climbing into the truck to retrace the final couple miles of my track from the previous night. Doing so would deposit me at the trailhead to Fourth of July Lake - as well as Washington Lake - a six-mile roundtrip that sounded fantastic.

Already, the smoke was thickening as I got my first glimpse of a road I'd driven the night before.​

Everything was extremely dry - and had been for some time - fire scaring the land.​

Soon enough, I was ready for my next trek. Still before 8:00am, I hoped to be back to the Tacoma for an early lunch, at which point I'd evaluate the smoke situation and make a call about continuing on.

Setting off to Fourth of July and Washington Lakes.​

As on my first hike, the ground was completely dry after the sprinkling of rain overnight, but the relatively large raindrops had wiped clean the trail, making it seems as though I was the only one who'd passed this way. It was a nice - if obviously untrue - feeling.

My spirits lifted as the blue shown through!​

I covered the first mile-and-a-half quickly - but acutely aware that I was hiking at elevations approaching 10,000 feet - and found myself looking out over Fourth of July Lake as a battle between sun, clouds, and smoke raged on overhead.

I had the lake all to myself. Or so I though.​

This little guy was none-too-happy that I'd been standing on his roof for the previous shot!​

From Fourth of July Lake, it was an additional 1.5 miles to Washington Lake - a distance that every review I'd read, claimed to be so worth it. Of course, I'd have done the hike regardless - my mantra of might as well, since I'm already here more than enough motivation to push me onward. Like the first half of the hike, it was quite pleasant - even with the smoke - and spring was clearly in full swing up here, the ground covered in wildflowers.

Purple something-in-the-daisy-family.​

Blue whatever-these-are-called.​

I'm not sure what I was expecting at Washington Lake given the reviews I'd read, but of the three lakes I visited, I'd say it was my third favorite!

Though I'd been the first hiker of the day, at least one family had camped there the night before and despite what must have been frigid water, the kids were busy splashing about. Their laughs and screams carried across the lake, reminding me of the joy that @mini.turbodb has in similar situations, her parents content to watch from the shorelines; perhaps adding a splash or two to the fun.

Washington Lake.​

I just stood there for a little while enjoying myself, a small inflatable boat - paddled poorly but proudly by a child not over seven - making its way across the water. And then, I spotted movement. It took swift action on my part, but soon I was the proud catcher of this little guy.

Baby frog? Tween tadpole?​

I'm all about catch and release - and I don't have any sort of froging license - so after as little terrifying torture as possible, Mr. Tadpole was back in his natural habitat and I was on my way back down the trail.

Have you ever noticed that trails in nature seem to go with the flow? It's nice.​

Since I didn't really have a schedule, I arrived at the trailhead right on time. And, having taken a slightly different route back, I was excited to see the ruins of an old mine rail trestle that I'd missed when I'd been here previously. I immediately made the decision that I'd actually arrived early and that I should absolutely check this thing out a bit more closely before continuing on with the rest of my day.

Warning: bridge out.​

Me: I'm sure that I could squeeze in there, past the cave in.
@mrs.turbodb's voice in my head: No.​

Well, it turns out that I was right on schedule - for the second time - getting back to the Tacoma. Given that I still wasn't really hungry - it was only 10:30am - I decided to forego the early lunch and press on with the trip. The smoke hadn't seemed so bad thus far, and besides - I was already here.

The key word there was "thus far," because about 20 minutes later - as I worked my way towards ID-75 - I knew that my time in Idaho was limited. Visibility had decreased dramatically in those 20 minutes, and what was usually a fabulous view ... wasn't.

Look closely, those are the Sawtooths.​

I'm sure this was good for my lungs.​

As I reached ID-75, I had a decision to make - turning north would take me home, but where I really wanted to go was south. The next stop on my loop - Boulder Basin - was supposed to be the (driving) highlight of the trip. I turned south.

Yeah, that doesn't look good.​

As I ticked away the 30 miles or so to the turn-off to Boulder Basin, I made the decision that I'd make a run up the trail, then head home. Except that I didn't really decide - I just decided that I'd try to decide when I got to the top.

"Looks a little less smoky," I told myself.​

The trail to Boulder Basin is only six miles in length, and the first four of those miles are nothing to write home about. Winding through the forest, the creek gurgling next to the road, it's pleasant and uneventful.

A washed-out bridge keeps the riff-raff out.​

An old log home, the dovetailed corners still tight and crisp!​

Time for a closer look.​

Inside could use some work.​

It's right around mile four that the trail starts to climb out of the trees. It never fully escapes the tree line, but the road surface transitions from dirt to rocky scree quickly, and of course ... the views!

Up we go!​

Into the mountains.​

I was extremely glad to have continued my trip.​

Soon, Boulder Creek and the road become best buds, and for much of the remainder of the journey, the going is various degrees of wet.

Seemed novel at the time.​

A bit of a tricky section.​

Looks like I leaned it into the bank a bit.

​

With the trees thinning, alpine meadows - and more views - abound. It's all 360 degree views up here - or 270 degree when smoke limits visibility down the basin on a day like today.

Nearly to the top.​

I knew - from my pre-trip satelite research - that there were old buildings at the top of the basin. What I didn't realize, was that this is the remnants of an old town - once the highest in Idaho - and the Golden Glow Mine. So, you can imagine my excitement when I rounded a bend to see the ruins of an enormous mill.

The Golden Glow Mill isn't glowing golden anymore.​

View from the mill.​

The cable from the old tramway is still suspended in the air.​

The road continues a quarter mile or so beyond Boulder City, up through another meadow, before forking to Boulder Lake and one final push to the top of the basin. It was in this final meadow that I ran into the current caretakers of the place - one of them a little less skittish than the other.

This guy got the memo about location, location, location.​

A fork in the road - continue left, up the hill, to Boulder Lake. Come towards me to go to "the top."​

It was at the fork in the road where I made a decision. It wasn't the decision about whether to continue the trip or not - that would have to wait for later. Rather, I decided that I'd check out Boulder Lake, but that I'd leave the very top of the trail unexplored until Ben @m3bassman could show it to me. It seemed only fitting given that I would have never known of this place without him.

It was 1:30pm when I pulled the Tacoma up to the lake's edge, and for me, today, the end of the road.

My "top" for the day.​

Lunch view.​

There was a bit to explore here at the lake, and once my belly was full of sandwich and apple, I set off on foot towards a mine shaft a little way up the hill. It turned out to be only 25 feet deep or so, but I imagine it was still plenty of work to carve it out of the hard stone.

Light at the end of the tunnel.​

Old cabin on the lake.​

Gratuitous Tacoma shot.​

Another old mine shaft, rail lines still protruding.​

And now, finally, it was time to make my decision. I could camp here for the night and decide in the morning if I wanted to continue, or I could head back down the way I'd come and drive late into the night to make it home in the wee hours of the morning.

Initially, I opted for the delay tactic - because seriously, even with the smoke, this is a pretty nice view.​

As I fretted over delaying - or not - the decision, I thought it might be a good idea to listen to the weather forecast, so I fired up the WX channel on the ham radio and waited to hear what things would be like for the next few days. The answer - fortunately or unfortunately - made my decision easy. It was time to go home.

The next few days called for both denser smoke as well as lightning and thunder storms in the afternoon and at higher elevations. Given that I'd planned a hike at 12,000 feet - above the treeline - for the following day, it seemed only prudent to forego the smoke-inducing asthma and possible death-by-electrocution this time around.

And so, I pointed the truck downhill and resolved myself to a long drive. But first, I had to navigate the trail.

​

The most technical section. Accidentally shot as a timelapse instead of slow-mo, sorry.​

Steeper than it looks, but also reasonably easy - just point downhill.​

With gravity assist in full effect, the trip down the trail was significantly fast than the opposite direction and soon I was aired up and headed north on ID-75 and then west on ID-21 towards home.

Still shrouded Sawtooths.​

In the end, I'd only be in Idaho for 24 hours of what I'd planned to be a five day adventure. Still, those 24 hours had been pretty rad, and I was already wondering how quickly I could return. With any luck, it wouldn't be long!

 

One Night at Mt. Rainier
Part of the One Night at Mt. Rainier (Jul 2021) trip.

Having had my week-long trip to Idaho's Sawtooth Mountains cut short by smoke, I wasn't really sure what to do with myself. Then, I realized that the answer was in my own backyard - or at least nearby! We've been lucky so far this year to not have a ton of smoke in Western Washington, so what better place to go hang out than the forests around Mt. Rainier. Great weather and clear skies would make it the perfect place to just go hang out and enjoy the outdoors!

So, after less than 24 hours at home - and luckily having not unpacked anything, including the fridge - from my previous outing, I was headed south for the much shorter drive to some hopefully great views.

It's at this point that I should probably mention - the photos in this trip report may be monotonous - or Mountainotonous . I had, after-all, only one subject in mind.​

Initially, I'd planned to go back to the same camp site we'd found the previous summer - near Kelly Butte Lookout, as part of our Roaming Around Rainier trip - since I figured it would give me fantastic views and allow me a fun little hike up to the lookout in the morning. However, being that it was still very early in the afternoon when I passed through Greenwater on WA-410, I figured that I might as well check out a few other perspectives of the mountain first, so I headed south on ***** where I knew I'd be even closer to the volcano.

Winding my way through Snoqualmie National Forest.​

Pretty soon I was at ****** Pass, and as I dropped down the south side, I couldn't help but get out for a couple quick shots.

Playing with perspective.​

The mountain is just so huge.​

One of the best views I've ever found of the mountain - with a fabulous little camp site that's well protected from the wind - was a little further along ******, and when I arrived, I wondered if I should just call it an afternoon and camp here, rather than trapsing all the way back to FR-70 and up to Kelly Butte.

What a spot!​

I sat here, admiring the view, for more than half an hour. I probably decided - and undecided - to camp here about five times over that period.​

Unobstructed.​

Ginormous.​

A remnant of wetter times. Please, please, please heed fire restrictions.​

Ultimately, I decided that I really should head back to my originally planned destination. Even though it was significantly further away from Mt. Rainier - and so the mountain itself would be a bit smaller in the frame - it was perched a little higher, allowing for an even greater sense of how the volcano rises up out of the lowlands. Plus, I really was looking forward to a hike the following morning.

On my way back however, I decided to explore a few side roads that we'd neglected to check out on our previous trips. I was pretty sure that they wouldn't really lead anywhere, given how they looked on my map, but I was in no rush and so followed my "I'm already in the area" mantra, full of curiosity.

Whoa! Wasn't expecting this view at all. Glad I took this side road!

​

It was on one of these side roads that I stumbled on a treeless cliff overlooking the mountain. I was giddy to say the least. In fact, I'm quite sure I was talking to myself as I pulled up to the edge of the cliff. "Wow." "This is crazy." "How can I be the only one here." - Probably only a few of the things that came out of my mouth.

A sweet reward for veering off of the known path.​

On the edge.​

For those who have followed for a while, you'll know that camping on cliffs with great views is sort of my favorite thing to do, and so once again I had a decision to make: I could camp here in this new-to-me spot that was pretty close to Mt. Rainier and had some of the best views I've found, or I could prioritize the morning hike and stick with the original plan.

I decided to postpone the decision and just enjoy the moment.

The perfect place to make a decision.​

I think it probably took me a good 30 minutes to make the decision, but clearly, I opted to stay in this newly found site. The newness was a big part of it, and though I was going to miss the hike in the morning, I realized that I could - instead - go check out the road to Raven Roost that had been closed on our previous trip, due to fire.

And so, for the next six hours or so, I enjoyed a fantastic view and the changing light, from a chair on the edge of a cliff.

Decision made; tent deployed.​

I'd brought along my laptop, and spent much of the time processing photos and writing up my previous trip to the Smoky Sawtooths, taking breaks now and then to just watch and listen to the world around me.

A Chinook helicopter is an enormous beast...​

...until it flies in front of Mt. Rainier.​

Things started to happen more quickly as the sun got lower in the sky. The atmosphere - and a bit of smoke - providing additional color, I wrapped up my writing and found myself dancing from place to place, snapping more photos than I could count. I had no idea how I'd choose to keep one over the other.

Evening. It's starting.​

Orange rays into the valley.​

Only the mountain illuminated.​

Smoky haze.​

Fading fast.​

For a while, I just let the camera do the work on the tripod while I soaked it all in.​

Blue giving way to a nice purple hue.​

It was 9:30pm when I finally turned on the lights and started getting ready for bed.​

Before going to bed, I realized that it would be a great night to get a photo of the Milky Way, with Mt. Rainier in the background. Moonrise (of a quarter moon) was slated for 11:45pm, and that would do a great job of illuminating the foreground, but still allow for dark enough skies to capture the Milky Way as it passed over the mountain.

An OK shot.​

Having gotten everything set up - the lens focused at infinity and set to manual focus, the intervalometer and settings all configured just the way I wanted them - I headed to bed and set my alarm for just a bit after midnight, figuring that I could make final adjustments then, and catch the Milky Way as though it was erupting from Mt. Rainier.

At the time, everything seemed to go off without a hitch. Foreground light was good, the Milky Way was right where I'd expected it, and it looked like I was capturing everything at the right light levels as the photos displayed momentarily on the camera's rear display. Only later would I realize that I'd somehow turned the focus ring - or something - causing nearly all the photos to be blurry. Only the few I'd taken at the beginning were clear enough to salvage.

​

Oh well, it was still fantastic to see in person!

The Next Morning...

I was up before sunrise to catch any colorful light display that might play across the sky. I find that the hour or so before sunrise is sometimes even nicer light than the hour or so after sunset - though the colors are a bit cooler I suppose.

The Mountain was right where I left it.​

Not many clouds meant that there was just a little bit of color this morning.​

One of the great things about this trip - in addition to the splendid surroundings - was that the temperatures were perfect. In the 90s °F during the day, and 50s at night, things were already starting to warm up when I got out of bed, so I just lazied around for a while as I watched the sun spill across the landscape.

Still a little purple left in the sky.​

Sun just starting to kiss the top of Mt. Rainier.​

A lighthouse in the new day.​

First sun on the Tacoma, I too was pretty high up, apparently!​

I made a quick breakfast, consumed as I stood as close to the edge as I could and decided as I was washing up that I should gather a few of the wildflowers that were so prolific so I could send a virtual bouquet to @mrs.turbodb with the three bars of LTE service that I was burdened with at this awful camp site.

Flowers with a view.​

Picking up again after the riff-raff. Why is there always so much shooting litter?​

With my belly satisfied and camp a little cleaner than I'd found it, the only thing left to do was to pack up the tent and get underway - so that's what I did - making my way back out to WA-410 and through the tree tunnels there to Mt. Rainier National Park and Chinook Pass, on the way to NF-19 where I'd once again find myself with new ground under my tires.

Incorrect ISO turned this into a cool photo; somehow the vanishing point remained in focus and stable!​

There I am again, stopped in the middle of the highway!​

This road was closed - due to fire - last time we were here.​

The "Jeep" trail to Raven Roost reminded me a bit of the Naches Wagon Trail might have been, had it been newly created for 4WD vehicles and not as eroded - and therefore difficult - as it's become in the last decade or two. Originally created as a buried power line road, the trail forks from - and then parallels - the much more nicely graded NF-1902 road. Snaking through the trees - usually less than a hundred feet from the road - there's not much to see for the entire length, again, like the Naches Wagon Trail.

Starting up NF-1902, I wondered if the entire trail would be like this.​

Found the fork to the start of the "Jeep" trail. The initial ascent was steep - though not the steepest section - and is starting to wear down into a trough a bit, just like the Naches.​

A steep, loose, rocky section provided a bit of fun, especially since I was still fully aired up!​

​

There were only a couple places - near the top - that had any sort of view. Southerly winds were pushing smoke from the Bootleg into Washington.​

Climbing the last ridge.​

The last half mile or so is the most difficult - the trail composed of river rock in the volleyball-to-basketball size range, and at a reasonably steep incline. This terrain is - as usual - not very intimidating in photos, so I just bounced my way through it and soon I was perched on the roost with a whole new perspective of the same view I'd enjoyed for the last 24 hours.

Well, hello again.​

Almost Soviet-style in appearance.​

Tower art.​

There wasn't a whole lot more to look at up here besides Mt. Rainier and the two communication towers that looked over the surrounding terrain, and by this point I was getting hungry for lunch, so I sped down the mountain via NF-1902 on my way to some tasty tacos for lunch.

It'd been a short trip, but a fun one. More relaxation and sitting around than I normally do, but I found it quite enjoyable to take it easy and soak in the views. After all, we often take for granted those things that are right in our own backyards.

Happy place.​

 

A new rocking chair I see. With shocks no less.

 

This shot really brings back some memories. Very nice capture.

I once spent ~6 hours in this exact spot too, under very similar conditions, watching and capturing the light as it progressed through purple. At least 3 rolls of Fuji Velvia, the very best slide film IMO, were exposed. That is over 100 exposures.

 

Is morning dew not a thing there? I would be concerned about leaving camera equipment out overnight in fear that it would be wet in the morning.

This reminded me of the crab from Moana.

 

So comfy. In my next rig review .

Thanks Mike. I can't believe I didn't find that spot earlier, really. Such a good one. Next time, hopefully I can have a buddy along with me!

Dew can be an issue sometimes for sure, but it all depends on the weather. In the summer when it's warmer (and temps never reach the dew point) it's not a big deal. Plus, it's extra super dry this year... which I guess is good for less dew, but man, I'd trade it for a wet summer in an instant!