AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

I think that will be a fine saw, if you aren’t already invested in batteries from another color brand. I’ve also heard good things about the Dewalt, and of course the Milwaukee.

I think stihl also has one, but obviously the batteries for that wouldn’t be compatible with any of the normal cordless tool systems.

 

reading thru this has made me pickup a scepter fuel can wrench, i have 4 scepter MFC (i need 3 to the wife's 1 in her 3rd gen) and opening them with a rubber mallet is probably silly for 20 bucks. i buy things from this guy - JAGMTE (just a guy making things easier)

https://jagmte.com

some light reading on electric chainsaws.

https://www.popularmechanics.com/home/tools/a28522787/battery-powered-chainsaws/

photo for no other reason

 

But if you do fall down a mine shaft and get stuck, a chainsaw might come in handy. For, you know … well, maybe I’ll leave the rest to your imagination …

 

Ralston?

 

Yeah I already drank the teal Kool-Aid. Or whatever color Makita is. I think they had like 8 tools total across the whole platform when bought their cordless drill 10 years ago. Now there's like 300 and it's really getting out of hand. I'm waiting for them to make a Brushless LXT Cordless C̶o̶f̶f̶e̶e̶ ̶M̶a̶c̶h̶i̶n̶e̶. Edit: Shit, they literally already do. What's next, a Margareta Machine? (checks catalog one more time...)

But in seriousness, word on the street is that they're rolling out a 20" chainsaw any time now. So obviously I have to wait for that one now.

Good point, this is looking more and more like a common-sense investment in my own personal safety.

 

Half joking, half serious in response to what is obviously not a legitimate comment. I wonder if the electronics are isolated and/or given any sort of IP rating, as obviously water and electricity don't mix well (or maybe too well depending on how you look at it).

 

Yeah, the years of sarcasm have blurred the boundaries of reason for me. But I don't take my pursuits of inanity lightly, so here is a somewhat legitimate response.

I can't find evidence that this tool is certified to a specific IP rating, but it boasts Makita's "Extreme Protection Technology," which although arguably meaningless, suggests that the product is designed with some (albeit unknown) degree of ingress protection.

What I can tell you is that I've seen this particular chainsaw demonstrated at a trade show. It was stored in a clear plastic box, in which it was sprinkled with water to simulate rain. Not immersed, just light rain. I wouldn't be surprised if they were using distilled water (I would if so tasked) but I obviously don't know. Anyway, from time to time the sales rep would pull it out and someone would get to lop off a short piece of a log with it. They did so in a separate clear plastic room-sized enclosure, perhaps for safety reasons but also likely part of the show, because it was impressively, like insanely quiet watching this thing chew wood to dust while scarcely audible over the clamor of the convention hall. Had I been invited to experience it, without doubt I would have bought one immediately, and might well by now have become a master ice sculptor (or perhaps more likely a disfigured survivor of a chainsaw accident). But as it was, I had snuck into the trade show and didn't have a name badge to scan, so that was as close to either fate as I came.

Anyway my conclusion is that the tool's electronics are reasonably protected from moisture for occasional use in rain or wet environments. I'm not sure how it would fare if stored outdoors though. For what that's worth.

I still don't need a chainsaw, not even slightly, but I do enjoy entertaining the thought that I might and likely soon will buy one. I've also spent a lot of time researching which model of Gulfstream would best suit my needs. There too by chance I once wound up on "private consultation" demonstration of a G650ER, by being at the right place at the right time, and because nobody had yet kicked me out. I'm pretty sure I would prefer one of those to a chainsaw. But either way, I've done my research and know what I'd buy... just as soon as I can afford it.

 

Replacing My Seats with scheel-mann Vario R

I've been through this before. Not all that long ago really. But the story bears repeating - at least partially - because, eventually, we all need new seats. And now - at long last - I have some!

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 205,597! 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 the seats. There are a few options of course:

1. Stick with Tacoma seats and try to make them better - either by finding new insides (likely by taking them to an upholstery shop) 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 A4. 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).

Initially, 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 requirements, and the rest were high up on my want list. Looking online, I originally found the Corbeau Baja XRS seats, which seemed to tick all the boxes. I bought some, and waited.

Turns out, Corbeau's customer service was fantastic, and I didn't have to wait long. Everything showed up and I set about with the install. Really, at this point, I'm getting into details rather than backstory, so if you're curious about the Baja XRS installation, you can check it out here: Replacing My Seats with Corbeau Baja XRS...Or Not.

I must admit, the Baja XRS looked great in the Tacoma.​

Unfortunately for me, the new seats weren't comfortable, and I ended up sending them back to Corbeau. Great customer service they have, that's for sure.

And so, I was still on the hunt.

While I still needed new seats badly, a stopgap was swapping the lower padding between the passenger and driver seats, which gave me a bit more support as I continued my search.​

Enter scheel-mann
It was Zane @Speedytech7 who put me on to the next - and last - set of seats I would buy.

I'm never really one for wanting to spend more money, but I am also one who recognizes when it's important to do. With regular (2-4 times per month) 20+ hour drives, and 40,444 miles of butt-in-seat-time for 2021, getting the right seats is just admitting the obvious and doing the right thing.

So, I found the phone number of scheel-mann usa and gave them a call. Actually, first it was an email, but when Toby suggested chatting on the phone, I was happy to oblige. Toby was awesome - he clearly knows his stuff and was quick to run through all the reasons that these seats would be great for me - ticking off all the requirements and desires I'd had on my list - as though he'd seen it before (I'm sure he has, from others who buy from him). Plus, he mentioned, a local company - Planted Technology - made seat brackets that would allow them to bolt right into the Tacoma.

Still, there was that issue of price. Where the Corbeau seats felt expensive at $1,500 for two, the scheel-mann were going to run closer to $2,200 each by the time I bought brackets and whatnot. I certainly couldn't fathom that without sitting in them first. To do that, I'd have to make it to Portland.

The scheel-mann seats seemed to tick all the right boxes.​

It was August, and we were headed for a family vacation in Northern California when @mrs.turbodb, @mini.turbodb, and I all stopped at the scheel-mann offices. Once again Toby was awesome. He'd opened specially for us - we were travelling on a Sunday - so I could give the seats a plonk down.

Well, I like the idea of perfected seats.​

And boy, as soon as I did, I knew they were for me. I ordered two on the spot, asked Toby to send an invoice via email that I could pay when we got to fabulous getaway on the Sacramento River.

And then, it was a waiting game. Since I'd opted for larger hip bolsters - to support my legs on the long trips - as well as custom red stitching, it was going to be 6-8 weeks to receive the seats from Germany. This was fine with me - I figured I'd just pick up the seats on my way back from some fall-or-winter trip south.

Sure enough, right at the six-week window - as I was rushing to summit Mt. Patterson before the winter snow set in - I got a call that my seats were waiting for me! Oh man, was I ever excited on that trip home!

Stopped in Portland to pick up a little present for the Tacoma.​

Perfect fit!​

The Installation
As with most parts that I get for the Tacoma, the seats sat around for a while. What can I say - I do my best to prioritize trips into the wild. So, five trips - plus a fixing a broken rear axle housing and swapping out a disintegrating transfer case - later I was ready to get started.

After my experience with the Corbeau Baja XRS, I was under no disillusion that the scheel-mann seats would be a direct bolt-in process. I mean, sure, they would mostly bolt in, but I expected to have some of the same fitment issues - at least as far as height went. But first, I needed to do a test fit - and to do that, I needed to unbox them.

Each seat is extremely well packed.​

Me: Kid.
Boxes: Candy store.​

The first order of business was attaching the seats and sliding rails to the brackets that I'd picked up locally from Planted Technology in order to avoid the shipping fee. Regardless of pick-up or shipping, I definitely recommend calling Planted in order to place your order - for two reasons: First, when I mentioned I was installing scheel-mann, it turned out that the bracket used a different bolt pattern than their "normal" bracket. Second, I was able to customize the bracket (at no extra charge) to omit the seat belt tab, since my scheel-mann seats had a special accessory for that - one that allowed the receptacle to move with the seat, just like the original Tacoma seat.

Attaching the sliding rails to the brackets - with hardware provided by scheel-mann.​

And the brackets to the seats - again, with supplied hardware.​

And just like that - well, after removing my original seat - it was time for a test fit. I must say, I was happy to see how far off of the floor the Planted brackets sat - plenty of room to mount my ham radio under the seat on the passenger side - and at least at a quick glance, it appeared that the scheel-mann seat was positioned at just about the same height as the OEM seat. Nice!

Looks pretty sharp for just plopping it in. Maybe this is more bolt-in than I thought it would be.​

Hmm. Or maybe not.​

I bolted in two of the fasteners - just to make sure the seat wasn't going anywhere - and then, I sat in it. Woo wee, it was nice. The height seemed very close to what I was used to - perhaps just a tad lower - and after enjoying the seat for a few minutes, I hopped out to take the requisite measurements.

The initial fit of the scheel-mann is much closer to stock, though the backrest is significantly thicker.​

For a moment, I debated whether I really cared all that much about a quarter inch difference in my seating position. I knew the sliding seat belt brackets would raise the back of the seat 3/16", and so figured that I might as well make some small spacers for the front so that everything was just right.

An added benefit was that I could make the front spacers just a bit taller - 9/16" - to give my thighs a bit more support on long trips.​

I cut the spacers at a shallow angle to match the angle the seat would sit at due to the difference between the spacers and the seat belt bracket.​

Seat belt bracket (rear) and aluminum spacer (front) installed.​

I had just one more thing to do - install the seat belt receptacle. I could have used the receptacles from my original seats - like I did last time - but this time I decided to just purchase a couple more receptacles, rather than pillage from the original seats. Part numbers, for anyone who wants to go this same route are:

• 1995-2000 Tacoma
  • Oak - Right (73230-04070-E0 | Left (73240-04080-E0)
  • Gray - Right (73230-04070-B0) | Left (73240-04080-B0)
• 2001-2004 Tacoma
  • Oak - Right (73230-04121-E0) | Left (73240-04131-E0)
  • Gray - Right (73230-04121-B0) | Left (73240-04131-B0)

If you want to reuse your original receptacle, here's how to access the nut that secures it.​

With the receptacles in hand, installation was easy since I'd already fabricated all the parts the last time I replaced the seats. For anyone who missed the process - the following items are used to secure the receptacle:

• A 7/16-20, 0.75" long Grade 8 hex bolt - to secure the seatbelt receptacle to the scheel-mann bracket.
• A 12mm ID, 17mm OD flanged brass bushing - to adapt the 7/16" bolt to the seatbelt receptacle.
• A 7/16" Grade 8 washer - to allow movement between the seatbelt receptacle and the Corbeau bracket.

The brass bushing - at least the one I could get - needed to be shortened quite a bit, which I did by embedding it into a scrap of wood and then cutting the entire assembly in the bandsaw. Then, it was a simple matter of assembly.

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

Seat belt sandwich.​

With the driver seat taken care of, I moved on to the passenger seat. While I had no plans to use a custom spacer on the passenger side, I did need to modify the Planted bracket slightly in order to mount my Kenwood D710G dual-band ham radio. After noodling for a few minutes, I settled on a simple design that required two threaded holes in the bracket where I could secure a crossmember to hang the radio from.

Drilling and taping an M8x1.25 hole for the crossmember.​

Looks like it's going to work.​

I like this design better than the one I had with the Toyota seats, where the radio would move forward and backward as the seat moved. Now, the radio is fixed as the seat moves above it.​

Both seats prepped, the next thing I had to deal with were the seat heaters. I'd ordered heaters with the Corbeau seats as well, but I'd never gotten far enough along to even think about hooking them up. A good thing too, since electrical work always seems to be the most time-consuming part of any project - and this one was no different.

As I always do, I began by taking stock of the wiring harnesses that were included by scheel-mann. And, as usual - since the wire lengths are meant to work in a variety of vehicles - I didn't like them, and I immediately set about cutting them up and creating my own.

When I was all done, I had two streamlined harnesses with wires that were the correct length. And a bunch of stuff for the trash.​

All that was left was the most nerve-racking part of the wiring - making holes somewhere for the switches. Luckily, the scheel-mann switches were round - a shape that's significantly easier to make than a rectangle - and eventually I settled on the center console as a place that would work.

No going back now.​

Relief. Looks pretty descent.​

And then, it was time to install everything. I started with the wiring harnesses, running the wires under the rug from the center console to each seat, and also under the rug to my power source - the house battery that I have in a custom cabinet behind the passenger seat. I also wired everything into my Blue Sea 12-Circuit Fuse Block, using a couple of 10A fuses to protect the circuits.

A clean install takes more time, but it is always worth it in the end.​

With the center console and wiring all in place - and with both seats already prepped for install - all I had left to do was bolt in the seats with the original bolts. The passenger side bolted right in - the bracket fit perfectly - and a little persuasion on the driver side got the fourth bolt to align well enough to get started, and then I zipped them all in with a 14mm socket.

Looking sharp.​

Installation had gone as smoothly as I could have hoped. I'm sure it helps that I did nearly the same thing a few months earlier, but the fit and finish of the components from scheel-mann surely added to the ease of install. It's to be expected really, with a high-end seat like this, and one of the reasons I'm happy to pay a premium.

First Impressions
I've driven about 20 miles in the scheel-mann Vario F seat - around town and a little bit of freeway. Actually, I was busy testing the new (used) transfer case to ensure that it was trip-worthy - or at least, worthy enough to start a trip.

​

So far, the seats are great - and
exactly what I was looking for, comfort-wise.​

Like

• By far the most important thing is comfort. The scheel-mann seats are certainly comfortable. They feel like what I would think of in a high-end German luxury car, though the closest I've gotten to actually sitting in one of those is a 2008 Audi A4 Avant. These seats certainly offer a lot more support than the stock Tacoma seats, and I'm really digging the larger bolsters and thigh support.
• The side bolsters - both on the seat as well as backrest. When driving with my foot on the accelerator, I have often found myself propping my right leg up - by shoving my hand under the middle of my my thigh - to keep it aligned, since there are no bolsters on the stock seats at all. The scheel-mann seats make this a thing of the past; the seat keeps my leg aligned properly.
• I must admit that having the seat belt receptacle move with the seat as it slides forwards and backward is really nice. I didn't like the Corbeau's for that reason, and I'm very happy to have purchased the bracket that allows for the movement.
• The seat heaters seem nice too, though I admit that I only got them since I was spending so much money anyway. I've never missed the lack of heaters in my stock seats, but I am a frequent user of the seat heaters in @mrs.turbodb's Audi.

Meh

• I don't love the fold-forward and slider designs in that they not spring-loaded like the stock seats. I'm sure I'll get used to it but sliding and/or folding the seat forward is now less convenient than it was previously.
• The seats weigh a lot more than the stock seats. Each one weighs in at 60lbs with the mounting bracket, which is quite a bit more than the 36lb stock seat. Obviously, I'm not lifting them except to install them, but driving around extra weight is something I'm always trying to avoid. Of course, I'm sure the additional heft adds to the comfort, so this isn't a total detractor.
• The seats look good, but they aren't as snazzy or color-matched as my Wet Okole covers or even the Corbeau Baja XRS. I really wish I could have gotten a custom logo stitched in place of the scheel-mann branding, or that the fabric choices were a better match for my truck, as I've really enjoyed that on my covers. On the flip side, I totally understand why these seats look the way they do - they are perfect for the cars they end up in most.

Dislike

• Thickness of the backrest. I'd say that it's a good 2" thicker than the stock Tacoma seats. That doesn't seem like much, but when the entire backrest is only 5" thick, it's another 50% thicker and takes up room in the Xtracab. The reason for this is the lumbar support system (which seems very nice so far). I'll need to see over time if it's worth it.
• The headrest in one of my seats doesn't work correctly - as in, it's nearly impossible to make it go up and down. Indications are that this is a manufacturing defect, since "clearing out" the internal runners for the head rests didn't fix the issue; my impression is that the runners weren't welded quite parallel, and so they make pushing the headrest in/out nearly impossible. Frankly, not something I'd expect from this caliber seat.

Second Impressions
I've now driven a six-day, 2,600 mile trip to Death Valley in the scheel-mann seats (see Lipstick on the Pig). They are good seats; orders of magnitude better - for me - than the Corbeau Baja XRS that I'd previously installed. The scheel-mann were comfortable for the entire 1200 mile trip down to Death Valley, but I noticed that they were a bit firmer in the butt than I was used to with the original Toyota seats. No surprise there, but the second day of driving - approximately 400 miles due to some re-routes in my original plan - I noticed that, by the end, my butt hurt a little bit.

My hope is that over time as the seats wear in a bit, they become a bit more comfortable as they form to my body, since - beside this issue, all my first impressions still seem to be right on.

Third Impressions
A second trip to Death Valley (Hiking Saline Valley) is now in the books. Unlike the prior trip, I never had any butt soreness on this trip - perhaps the seats are wearing in a bit. I will say that there are a couple things about them that I wish were a bit different - or that I miss about the original Toyota seats:

1. I find myself missing the spring-slide forward and spring-fold forward. Those features made it easier to get into the extended cab, which is tougher now.
2. The scheel-mann get dirty easily. Or, they show dirt more readily.

There are some things I find myself liking now more as well:

1. The seat heaters. I've now got these hooked up so that they are only powered on when the key is in the Accessory or On position - so I don't need to worry about them draining the battery if they are left on accidentally. I have to admit that they are very nice.
2. The bolsters provide much more support - for my legs especially - than the Toyota seats, and that is great for my knees.
3. The seats are very comfortable - provide a lot of support and keep me planted - on bumpy dirt roads. I never realized how much I bounced around in the seat prior to my last trip.

 

I had a question, since I've seen a lot of Scheel-Mann seats installed in Land Cruisers with close and sometimes exact matching interior colors... why did you go for black?

 

I had a couple thoughts about that. Not sure how those have ultimately proven out, but here was my thinking:

• I would have gotten a matching color - and it probably would have been better for (not) showing dirt - if I felt like I could be confident that they had a color that would match the interior tan. Unfortunately, after looking at the samples they had in the swatch book, I didn't see anything that seemed "right on," and I always feel like the "different tan" can look worse than something that's just an entirely different (neutral) color.
  • The dark brown leatherette (S342) was sort of close.
  • There were real leather options that seemed to match, but that added $1K per seat, and even I wasn't willing to do that, hahaha.
• I didn't think it'd be quite as stark as the black has turned out, b/c my Wet Okole covers were mostly black as well. That is, the sides and back of the covers were entirely black, with a tan stripe in the middle. Turns out that tan stripe is a lot more prominent than I gave it credit for.

Anyway, I think the black actually looks pretty good, it's just that it shows light colored dust (that one might find in places like Death Valley) way more. In the end, I know these things are just going to get dusty, and that's fine; I still keep my truck clean enough that they'll look great for years to come.

 

This was somewhat timely. I don't need new seats just yet but seat heaters are really nice. Especially on days the cab is cold but the heater won't necessarily heat the cab in the time it takes to get to your destination. I was looking at a set installed in a rig at Overland Bound's event yesterday.
Plus, it looks as if I would be able to lower them a little as well.

Thanks for the heads up.

 

Ah okay yeah that makes sense, didn't even cross my mind that the weirdos on IH8MUD were probably spending the extra grand for the leather options too. I think the black looks good honestly, but you said you were hoping for more of a match in your write up so I had wondered why you didn't pick a close tan. I get the wanting matching tones thing for sure. I miss the tan interior actually, my last two truck have had that terrible blue/grey interior and it is kinda depressing but it is easy to match interior colors.

 

The only two things I didn’t like about the T100 Xtracab that I had before my current Tacoma were the worn and sagged-out, and perhaps never comfortable even when new, split bench seats, and the difficult access to the back with the 60-40 split and no rear doors (like a 1st gen; unlike a Tundra or newer Taco’s). I looked around for seats but never considered new aftermarket seats. Who knows, I could have saved a lot of money over a new truck. My interior was that blue gray and the door cards were pretty trashed also. T100 soft parts are pretty much unobtainable new, and pretty worn out used.

 

Change of Plans - Lipstick #1
Part of the Lipstick on the Pig (Jan 2022) trip.

Having replaced the transfer case that had given up the ghost on my previous trip to Death Valley, the new year and lots of rain at home was enough to get us back on the road and headed south again. It was a long drive - this time along a different route that would bring us in the west side of the park rather than the east - but we powered through and by 3:30am the following morning, we were setting up camp in Panamint Valley along the Nadeau Trail. Sleep never felt so good.

Waking up for sunrise didn't even cross our minds. I set my alarm for 9:00am after our long drive and we were awoken just before that by F-18s screaming overhead.​

Exploring Death Valley during the winter months is usually a good choice. Given the wintery-cold temps and snow elsewhere, the relatively cooler - but still pleasantly warm at 60-75°F - days in the desert are a welcome break from the dreary days in the Pacific Northwest.

It was with this in mind that I planned this trip to the southwestern Panamint Mountains. We'd explore an area I'd discovered the last time I was in the area - along the Pleasant Canyon-to-South Park loop - but that we'd had to rush through in order to make it to camp in time. This time, things would be different. Instead of spending four hours, we'd spend two days, hopefully doing the plethora of spur roads and abandoned mines, justice.

The only thing I didn't factor in was... winter.

Hmm, the plan had been to spend all of our time up there... but not in that snow!​

The loop through Pleasant Canyon and South Park tops out around 8,500' and judging from the landmarks we could see, snow seemed to start at 5,500' or so, and was full coverage by a little over 6,000'. That would mean slippery roads and a lot more effort needed to explore the mines - not to mention very cold days and nights - so we knew the plan was going to have to change. The question was, how?

For now, we delayed the decision and decided to explore a couple of the canyons at lower elevations.

There's always something cool to look at in Ballarat as we air down.​

Heading up into ******* Canyon.​

Don't let this happen to you.​

I'd only discovered ******* Canyon by looking at satellite imagery. A road and what looked like some structures and mining activity piqued my interest, and so here we were on another adventure. And, as we drive up through the winding wash, the geology didn't disappoint!

​

I may have been accused of parking too close to this huge chunk of rock that had broken off the side of the wash. Personally, I'd say we weren't close enough!​

At the end of the road, the ******* Mine - hence the name of the canyon - sat perched with a splendid view of the valley and was clearly still active. Just outside the park, my map showed that the entire area is managed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), but my guess is that the mine itself is privately owned. To show our respect, we left the truck below the site and proceeded on foot, several hunting cameras clicking away as we walked by.

A tidy camp.​

Through a window.​

An old lumber stockpile near the entrance to the camp.​

From a mining perspective there wasn't a ton to see - this is clearly a small operation - and we wanted to be respectful of the current owner - so we didn't go poking around too much before heading back to the Tacoma. We did however see two things that really put a smile on our faces.

In the trailer, a fun map of Death Valley from 1948 was featured prominently. Deserts - and the people that love them - are a little funky, and this map captures that well.​

Loved this sign. And it's true, the outhouse was in pristine condition.
I'd have given it ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ myself!​

And so, less than half an hour after we arrived, we were headed back down the canyon toward Panamint Valley, the fanglomerate walls of the wash towering high over our heads. We had one more canyon to visit before we were going to have to make a decision about what to do on the remainder of the trip, so like any good explorers, we continued to procrastinate our decision.

A mountain, eroded.​

As we headed south on Wingate Road, we had our sights set on ****** Canyon. Just north of Goler Wash, it was a canyon I'd driven by several times without exploring, and I'd recently learned that there were some really cool mine workings at the end of the road.

But, as is so often the case, ****** Canyon would have to wait just a little while longer. Because - as we headed south - we passed a turn-off to the Goldbug Mine and decided that while we weren't going to attempt the entire Pleasant Canyon loop, we should try to check out this mine that is just off the loop but at a lower elevation.

The Goldbug Mine is - unfortunately - gated!​

With our detour having been short, we were soon headed south again along Wingate Road, the wet lake bed of southern Panamint Valley a testament to the moisture that'd put the kibosh on what had been our main attraction.​

It was 12:30pm when we turned off the main road and headed east again, climbing the alluvial fan toward ****** Canyon. Even before we entered the canyon narrows, the colorful rock was enticing, drawing us in.

It was as though white frosting had been dripped over the chocolate mountains of the southern Panamints.​

A kaleidoscope of color.​

Upon entering ****** Canyon, the road immediately becomes more challenging as it is hemmed in - on both sides - by soaring rock walls and steeply sloped taluses.

Entering the canyon. Imposing, and yet even more exciting.​

This road is not heavily travelled and requires a good bit of skill and plenty of armor.​

Stretched-pebble conglomerate of the Kingston Peak Formation.​

It took us nearly an hour to cover the mile-and-a-half-long road to the Gold Spur Mine. Where most of the park recommends high clearance 4WD on nearly all dirt roads, I've found that there are few places where it is actually required. This - certainly - is one of those places. Even with it, careful line choice and a fair bit of skill were needed to navigate several more difficult sections. In the end, of course, our persistence was rewarded - the lower terminal of an aerial jig-backed tramway.

As with the ******* Mine mentioned earlier in this story, this site is not part of Death Valley National Park, but is private property surrounded by BLM land. Please respect them both as you would your own property.

​

We have arrived - and I knew immediately that something was missing!​

In addition to the tramway - which was what I'd most been looking forward to - I'd expected that we'd find a small mining camp situated just across the wash. Built in the shadows to combat the scorching summer temperatures, a delightful cabin and old RV trailer once provided shelter for miners and now a respite for present-day explorers. Alas, no longer.

All that remained of the cabin and trailer were charcoal remnants. With so little left, the fire here must have been hot, and appeared to have burned in the last 12 months.​

Anyone with details, I'd love to hear what happened. I reached out to the NPS and they were unaware that the cabin had burned.
​

As @mrs.turbodb set about making lunch - we were both hungry as it was now nearly 2:00pm - I poked around the fascinating terminal of the lower tramway. This wouldn't be the biggest highlight of this place, but it was one of the coolest terminals I've seen, and a close second for sure!

A magnificent structure built on the northern side of the wash.​

The lower tramway terminal also served as an ore chute for loading trucks.​

Triple-chute. And ladder. I feel like I've played this game before... ​

Anchored to a rock face with 4-inch chains, the tramway is a one-of-a-kind structure, or at least the only one of its type that I've seen in my explorations to date. The ladder climbs to a catwalk which skirts the top of the three-chute ore bin, allowing access to the 12-foot steel wheel that guided the thick tramway cable. The original engine of this tramway was gravity: the descending ore-filled bucket simply pulled the empty bucket back up.

Four-inch links.​

The magnificent steel wheel.​

​

The path of the tramway and the sole remaining ore bucket.​

It was at this point that I was called back down from my exploration for lunch - an intermission I was happy to oblige - which consisted of tuna sandwiches and salty potato chips. As we ate, I related the details of the tramway and talked through the plan for after lunch - one that I suspected would lead us to the highlight of our day.

The plan - in as much as it was one - was to "hike" the steep canyon walls to follow the cable of the tramway. More of a scramble, we would gain over 550 feet of elevation in less than half a mile. My hope though was that what we would find at the top would be worth it.

We gained elevation quickly.​

Along the way, a young barrel cactus seemingly grew directly out of the stone.​

Abandoned homes of the local residents littered the ground.​

Eventually of course, we made it. And as I'd hoped, we were in a candy store. The mining complex above the terminal is small but uncommonly intricate. A rail track - part of which soars across a trestle bridge - winds through a channel blasted through a ridge to reach the upper tramway. The slope here - steeper than 50° in some places - was so steep that the track is built on two levels, with the upper level emptying material into an ore chute that would deliver it to the level below.

I think my favorite mining paraphernalia to find are old rail trestles.​

What men do for a little bit of gold.​

@mrs.turbodb was happy to stay outside. The tunnel's long drift exploited gold-bearing smoky quartz which was transported along down the tramway and then trucked out of the canyon.​

In addition to the workings, the railway terminated in a well-preserved upper terminal. A similar contraption to the terminal at the bottom, this tower of sun-cured lumber and rust-coated steel is anchored in place by hefty cables and shares a similar 12-foot wheel. Here though, a newer Nissan engine was a more recent addition, used by the present owner to give the aging tramway a speed boost.

This look like a zip-line to anyone else? ​

I can only imagine what it took to transport all this material up the mountain. This was not a profession for the lazy.​

A little help for the aging structure, it was fun to see that the gear shift still worked flawlessly and the the internal workings were fully greased and oiled. With a little care and a new battery, it may have fired right up!​

Having explored the site to our hearts' content, we picked our way down the hillside and piled into the Tacoma for an exciting trip back down the canyon. We'd decided on a plan during our descent and given the time - nearly 4:00pm already - we needed to make good time if we were to get to camp before dark.

Not that we really stood a chance at that!

Back into the colorful canyon.​

Even a 10-by-10-foot area was alive with color. Inclusions, faults, and the magic of our planet were on full display!​

A bit of fun driving along the way.​

We reached the mouth of ****** Canyon half an hour later. As we exited the mouth, we were greeted by the local riff-raff, looking a bit shaggy in their winter coats and already munching on dinner as they lifted their heads to bid us farewell.

"His name was Steve." -Mike @mk5​

His wife, Sara.​

Bye Steve and Sara.​

We arrived at our designated camp location well after dark. We'd backtracked an hour or so to get there, but in the end, it would be the least of our detours on this trip as we searched out low(er)-land locations to keep us more comfortable while the higher elevations were covered in snow.

Prepping dinner just after 6:30pm, we were just sitting down to eat when @mrs.turbodb exclaimed that there was a cat in our camp site. "A cat?" I asked, a little bewildered, since there aren't a lot of cats in the park. Regardless, I grabbed my camera and flashlight, because - whatever it was - I wanted to snap a photo.

"You're going to take my picture ehh?" says the fox. "Well then, I'm going to pee on your camp site."​

It was a kit fox. Not uncommon in the park, but the first one I've seen in all my trips, and so exciting for us both - a great way to end our first day on the trail. We'd head to bed an hour or so later, ready to get up early in the morning for our first hike of the day. A hike across the desert - one that would turn into a race - but not against each other.

 

Very interesting report and places I'm not certain I've heard of or seen previously. Not familiar with "lower park canyon".
Sad to see another cabin lost to fire.

 

To quote my sister-in-law's response to that caption: "Was...?"

I believe this is being used synonymously with "South Park Canyon."

And hot damn, I'm itching to get back up there! I finished "There Canyons are Full of Ghosts" last weekend and have scoped out so many places to crawl around next time I'm there. Awesome recommendation -- thank you -- I'm looking forward to reading the others as well.

 

One Dunes Down - Lipstick #2
Part of the Lipstick on the Pig (Jan 2022) trip.

Unlike the previous morning when we slept in, I had my alarm set for early-o-clock so I could catch the sunrise from our camp site at the north end of Panamint Valley along the Big Four Mine Road. Oh, and so that we could get an early start on our 9-mile hike to the Panamint Dunes!

Colorful but cropped, due to our position relative to the Panamint Mountains.​

A soft purple hue spread across the valley, our destination appearing tantalizingly close. I can tell you now, that it is most definitely not close.​

The tent was stowed, breakfast consumed, and our day packs strapped on by 7:30am, just a few minutes after sunrise. Both of us made a mistake of wearing too much clothing in the only-chilly-for-about-five-minutes morning as we set out to close the four-mile gap between us and some of the most remote dunes in the park.

On our way. We should be there... in a while.​

After 45 minutes of hiking, a glance back into the valley - the Tacoma gleaming in the distance.​

Despite the distance, the walk to Panamint Dunes is mostly flat, rising only 750 feet over the course of the four-mile alluvial fan on which the dunes sit.

Sit however is a bit of a misnomer - the Panamint Dunes are actually moving. Slowly of course - at something like 2.8 feet per year - but moving, nonetheless.

Geologists have managed to find clear evidence of the dunes' imperceptible migration. Because of their location part way up an alluvial fan, the dunes form a local barrier across the fan's sloping surface. During a flashflood, debris flows - boulders, gravel, sand, and silt - washed down from Hunter Mountain normally spread out over a wide area of the fan. However, the portion of a debris flow intercepted by the dunes collects against the dunes' up-fan side and forms a low, flat-topped bench, much like water impounded behind a dam. Flows strong enough to reach as far down as the dunes occur infrequently, perhaps every few centuries. During this hiatus, the dunes continue to be herded up the fan by the wind, going right over the debris bench and leaving it behind as a mark of their passage. Subsequent flashfloods create other benches, higher up the fan, but the older benches are protected from them by the screen of up-fan dunes.

Like giant footprints, at least 15 benches record the steady progression of the dunes across the fans at the north end of Panamint Valley, and they tell us much about the dunes' history. By mapping the location of the benches, one can retrace the migratory path of the dunes and identify their original location. By dating the benches, one can infer the dunes' age and their rate of travel.

The dunes formed at least 6,000 years ago near the shoreline of a drying lake, about half a mile northwest of today's playa. The main source of sand is probably the quartz monzonite that makes up most of the crescent of mountains surrounding the dunes. Since then, they have migrated about 4 miles north-northwest, at an average speed of 2.8 feet per year.

The dunes are still moving. As they reach higher up the increasingly steep fan, the wind will gradually lose its battle against gravity, and they will move more and more slowly. A few thousand years from now, the Panamint Valley Dunes will reach their final resting place, near the foot of Hunter Mountain. Hiking Western Death Valley National Park​

After a bit more than an hour, we found ourselves looking back onto Lake Hill in Panamint Valley from deep washes that cut their way into the alluvial fan.​

What's this - a mushroom in Death Valley? Note the strange hole at the top of the cap.​

It was 9:15am as we made our way out of the last of the brush and onto the sand dunes. Completely void of footprints at this point, we contemplated our next move carefully. As we did, a group of early-20-somethings - who'd driven up to our camp spot the evening before and then noisily made their way out to the dunes to camp - spotted us just as they finalized putting away their tents. Determined to be the first to the top of the dunes, they started running up the ridge. Classy.

It's hard to see, but if you zoom in, you can just make out the classy college kids running up the center-left dune.​

After a bit of scouting, we maintained our current course and trajectory. I had a plan.​

Up we go, careful to keep our footprints on the hidden side of the ridges, whenever possible.​

A false summit still provided a fantastic view and a nice opportunity to use the tripod. We don't get many photos together, but we have several at the top of sand dunes!​

Looking back into Panamint Valley.​

East towards the Cottonwood Mountains.​

As with many dunes, the highest point can be deceiving when viewed from various angles below. As the running had commenced a few minutes earlier, I'd realized that - if the kids were after the highest summit - we had nothing to worry about; they were on the way to the second highest point, with no traversable path to the tallest dune!

Quick thinking made for a leisurely summit. Sometimes, slower is faster.​

How you guys doing down there! ​

It was as we were enjoying our small victory - competition runs deep in our blood - that the wind started to pick up. To this point, though we'd seen dust picked up further south, we'd had almost no wind in the north end of the valley - a great thing as we'd slept through the night - and even now the first few gusts were small. But then - within ten minutes or so - it was blowing a constant 20 - with gusts to 30 - miles per hour. It was - at times - hard to stand.

The sand dunes were on the move right in front of our eyes.​

A sand shower.​

It turns out that the best place to be in a sand dune windstorm is at the very top. There at least, the sand is pulled back down by gravity, and while sand still gets everywhere, less of it is falling into your hair and down the neck of your shirt. Still, after waiting 15 minutes or so, even we had to descend into the vortex - though we did our best to hurry our way out of the sandblast zone.

Already, all of the footprints we'd made on our way up... were gone.​

The hike down the dunes was faster than up - each sliding step pushing us forward rather than pulling us back. Along the way we marveled at some of the windblown formations in the dunes - the graceful curves interrupted by geometric lines.

What causes this sand bar?​

Shadows.​

The million-dollar views on this hike are those you see on the way down. Lake Hill and Panamint Valley stretching out as far as the eye can see.​

Eventually, the valley floor begins creeping into the sand, mesquite bushes doing their best to reclaim the land.​

This little guy was most certainly lost.​

Geology of the Cottonwood Mountains kept us entertained through the entire descent.​

As we neared camp - now properly out of the dunes - evidence of rain a couple weeks prior to our arrival was still present, the water having carried orange mud from the mountains far into the valley floor. This is how sedimentary layers are formed!​

We arrived back at the Tacoma - and our camp site - just after 11:30am, having completed the 9-mile hike in just under five hours. Our first order of business was sand removal - from every piece of clothing as well as our hair and bodies - it was everywhere. Then, it was time for lunch.

There's almost nothing better than a tasty sandwich, salty chips, and cool water when you're out in the desert - and we enjoyed ours with a view of the dunes before climbing into the Tacoma for what would turn out to be a much longer drive than we'd expected.

Heading south along the Panamint Range, I couldn't help but capture another photo of the quilted mountain sides.​

​

Lake Hill, an unexpected island stranded in the middle of the valley, is a chunk of dolomite that was once part of the Cottonwood Mountains three and a half miles to the east!

(Note: Does Racetrack Playa's Grandstand have a similar story?)​

Even somewhere as easily accessible as the Panamint Playa can be treacherous if your vehicles aren't in working order. But hey, at least this one has a nice view.​

Our last stop - and a short one at that - before pressing the skinny pedal with near reckless abandon, was at a trench that I spotted along the side of the road. Wondering what it was about, my co-pilot was quick to inform me that she'd read about it in the Death Valley bible.

I thought this was just some scar from mining, but it was way more interesting than I'd imagined!​

Climbing Slate Range Crossing at the southern end of Panamint Valley, the last view we'd get of the place we'd come to explore.​

With only about three-and-a-half hours of daylight left and a four-hour drive in front of us, we already knew we weren't going to make it camp before dark - again. And, that didn't take into account the fact that we planned to stop in the Searles Valley near the town of Trona to check out the brightly colored holding ponds that are mined by the Searles Valley Minerals Company.

A patchwork of poisonous ponds.​

Well, it turns out that upon reaching the Searles Valley, it was nothing like I'd imagined. A combination of wind-blown dust and the pollution from the mineral company made the town of Trona look like a war zone. Not only that, but it smells... terrible. This is the kind of place where one suddenly understands how respiratory issues can plague someone who grew up here, for life.

Look through the dust and you'll see the infrastructure supporting the lake-based mining operation.​

Trona - a company town of Searles Valley Minerals - is in a water crisis. All water into the town is first used by the plant for processing, at which point it is "cleaned" and then sent to residents as the town's drinking water. ​

Another view of the factory.​

A dying town, many/most of the houses, abandoned.​

I've often seen expansion joints like this on oil pipelines, but I think in this case, these are for water supply.​

Wanting to spend as little time as we could in Trona, we quickly discovered that any hope of seeing the colorful pools of water visible from satellite was just an illusion - even if the entire area hadn't been covered in dust, the entire lakebed was off-limits, and we'd have needed a flying camera to get the right perspective anyway.

And so, we exited town to the south, more than a little bummed that we'd opted for the long way 'round to our planned destination for the evening. Still, I suppose that if we hadn't, I'd always wonder about the Searles Valley, and now I know. Plus, our route did allow us to stop at the Trona Pinnacles on our way out of town.

A line of tufa extending into the distance, I think this was my favorite view the Trona Pinnacles.​

The pinnacles consist of more than 500 tufa spires, some as high as 140ft, that rise from the bed of the Searles Basin. Varying in size and shape - they are composed primarily of calcium carbonate - they are formed where a spring is submerged under a desert lake. If the spring water has traveled through limestone, the calcium carbonate precipitates as tufa when it enters the alkaline lake water. Little by little, a mound of tufa forms around the spring's outlet. Algae growing on its surface help fix new calcium onto it. Over time, the mound can evolve into a spire, as spring water is fed upward through the spire's hollow core and deposits tufa higher and higher. Of course, the spires generally remain under water -until the lake subsides or dries up. These are the same types of formations that can be seen at Mono Lake.

We drove a few paths through the pinnacles, a plethora of roads crisscrossing the land.​

Four sisters.​

Like the town, we didn't linger long at the Trona Pinnacles. They reminded me of what Alabama Hills has become in the last several years - visited to death. Conceptually fascinating in a more remote and pristine setting, it's clear that too many people have climbed on, driven around, and pooped next to these once spectacular spires. It's a fine line we walk when places like this are made accessible to the public.

It took us four more hours to make our way south, west, and finally north again to reenter Death Valley at the southern end of Harry Wade Road. Ready for dinner we quickly found camp under the light of a nearly full moon and less than fifteen minutes later we were enjoying our tacorritos with an amazing view of the next day's adventure: the Ibex Dunes.

High, thin clouds created a halo around the moon. The brightest stars still shown through.​

For the second night in a row, we had front row seats to a set of dazzling dunes.​

Out here on the edge of the wilderness, we were happy.

 

I thought I'd remembered something about butterflies and Death Valley. It's been a while since I've seen them in the park but I was shocked. Iwould have thought that would be one of the last places to see one.

 

I've seen many butterflies in and around DV.

 

Mike was right, I meant South Park Canyon. Thanks for pointing it out, I've updated it.

I've also redacted the name of the canyon with the trestle at the request of another reader who frequents the area, and values the relative anonymity of the site.

LOL, and thanks!

I've seen a bunch, but never a migration. I feel like those that end up in the park are mostly off track. My dad is a big birder and butterflyer, and he assured me that this little guy definitely wasn't where he was supposed to be.