AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

I'm gonna throw out some guesses. Those springs allow the friction part of the disk move a bit around the center part connected to the drivetrain. It looks like those longer springs might also have a lower spring rate (but may not). This would make it grab more "softly" when releasing the clutch pedal. Like when you switch between gears, it lets the disk move more easily, and move a bit more rotationally, as it gets sandwiched between the cover and flywheel. So gear switches would feel smoother, and it would soften the jarring if releasing the clutch quickly.

As far as reliability, I wouldn't consider it much of an issue. It actually might put less strain on other drivetrain components, such as gear boxes and u-joints. More of a liability? Maybe, but probably negligible for what you use the truck for.

 

Neither is more prone to failure, they're just there to take up shock from engagement, some discs are entirely unsprung. Short fat springs could still be less stiff than the long skinnies, it likely comes down to what they stock that meets spec for the clutch they're trying to make. Lots of ways to skin a cat. The reason the SECO disc is desirable is because the aftermarket Aisin one uses plastic spring retainers which are known to break. If a spring fails then you hope it gets ejected into the bell housing or it'll get caught in the clutch cover and probably stick the clutch engaged. But you're noodling on a very rare event (that could happen with either clutch) that's extremely unlikely given your style of driving.

 

Owyhee's Best Hike - Out-and-Backs #1
Part of the Owyhee Out-and-Backs (May 2022) trip.

I always look forward to the changes of spring. Warmer weather pushing north means that the snow melts, opening up more places for exploration. For a short time, everything seems so green and colorful. Flora showing off their brightest colors to the world - perhaps with the exception of fall aspen - celebrating the longer days with enthusiasm.

Usually - no matter where I'm headed - I look for routes that are through - or at least loop - routes, giving me as much new terrain as possible over my limited time in the outdoors. That - naturally - leaves some out-and-backs left untraveled, and me even more curious about their secrets.

So, like spring, it's time for a change; a trip of out-and-backs to Oregon's Owyhee Canyonlands seems like the perfect solution! Plus, I'm not complaining that it's less than 10 hours from home; a much more reasonable drive than my usual 20+ hour winter jaunts to the desert.

There was still plenty of daylight when I transitioned onto dirt along Succor Creek Road, at the northeast edge of the Owyhee Canyonlands.​

I might have been a week or two early, this cottonwood tree only just beginning to leaf out for spring.​

I don't often drive the Succor Creek Road. Though it winds through a beautiful canyon, it tends to be more populated than other parts of Owyhee, and there are plenty of less-crowded roads that lead to the really special spots. Still, with a trip that was all about changing up my strategy, I decided that wandering down the canyon on a Wednesday at the beginning of spring was probably one of the better times to do so, and I soon found myself amazed at the contrasting green and orange surrounding me.

This FJ Cruiser hit a top speed of about 3mph, and I completely understood why.​

After pulling over in this camp site for a few minutes, I made a mental note - perhaps camping here on my final evening would be a nice way to end the trip!​

Climbing out of the south end of Succor Creek, the green floor was a sight to behold.​

The trip through Succor Creek also afforded me the opportunity to take a road I'd never previously travelled, west towards Three Fingers Rock and the trailhead at Painted Canyon. Except for a bit of new terrain, I didn't really expect anything special from this road, but at this time of year, it proved difficult to travel more than a quarter mile without feeling as though I was in a wonderland.

I felt like I was driving into the orange.​

Wildflowers all around! (Balsamorhiza Sagittata - Balsam Arrowroot)​

It was nice to get off the heavily graded gravel road and onto a two-track, all the more prominent with a fresh growth of grass.​

Soon, I approached Three Fingers Rock - one of my favorite features in the canyonlands - from an angle I've not previously experienced. Only an hour into my journey, I reminded myself that I'd never get where I was going if I kept stopping for photos... as I applied the emergency brake and hopped out of the truck.

I didn't notice when I took the photo, but I like the prominence of the fence line in the grass where cows have been grazing.​

At this point it was already noon, and with a nine-mile hike in front of me - before a three-hour drive to my planned camp location - I really did need to pick up the pace for the final push towards Painted Canyon.

Just one more stop. ​

Eventually, I did arrive at the trailhead, and I quickly transitioned from driving to hiking mode. Mostly, this entailed putting electronics in my pockets rather than various mounts in the Tacoma, and without further ado I used the inReach Mini to send a quick message that I was now on foot befor trekking off into the canyon.

At least I knew I was in the right place!​

Almost immediately, I found myself in a rather steeply descending wash, with several medium-sized dry falls that I had to descend.​

I'd say there's a bit of iron oxidation going on.​

I wasn't the only one enjoying the sun!​

Oh, to fly!​

As I'd set off along the Painted Canyon trail, I hadn't really known what to expect. In fact, I'd not heard of this hike until a few days earlier when I started researching places to go, but the few reviews I'd found suggested that it was a nice one.

Actually, the hike - as I'd seen it documented - was always described as a loop hike, connecting Painted Canyon to its neighbor to the east, Carleton Canyon. However, I'd also read that there wasn't much in the way of views through Carleton Canyon, and in the spirit of my out-and-back-themed trip, I decided I'd simply hike down Painted Canyon and turn around - still a nine-mile excursion.

Best decision ever? Maybe. :biggrin:

After dropping down through the narrow head of the canyon, it opened up a bit. I'd arrived.​

The volcanic geology in this area - Painted Canyon is part of the Honeycomb Wilderness Study Area - is just so fabulous, a little arch sitting high above.​

There's no question as to why these formations are called "Honeycombs."​

Hiking down the canyon was remarkably easy going. One of our first forays into the Owyhee Canyonlands back in 2016 was a hike to The Honeycombs, just a couple canyons west of Painted Canyon. I'd remembered that hike as being a serious slog - something I'd been a bit worried about when I'd found this hike - but with the scenery in Painted Canyon starting immediately and the incline relatively gradual for much of the journey, I found myself wondering how the best hike in the Owyhee's had eluded me for so long!

Green and orange around every bend.​

Outcroppings of volcanic tuff reaching for the blue sky.​

The colors here reminded me of Utah, though this is no sandstone!​

Honeycomb sunstar.​

Wondering how long this wonderland would last, my progress on foot seemed to mirror my Tacoma-based travel earlier in the day - slow. In fact, I soon found myself wondering whether I should be ignoring some of the scenery, since I'd experience it again on my return trip, and if I was stopping in both directions, I might end up back at the trailhead sometime around sunset. Or, maybe I should make it a loop, just to save myself time on the way back!

Honeycomb window.​

Water stained.​

Cave view.​

Finally - after a couple hours - I made it to the mouth of Painted Canyon. It was striking how quickly the landscape changed - the volcanic formations giving way to the sage-covered hills so common in Owyhee. Beautiful, but no match for what I'd just experienced; what I wanted to experienced again!

Looking back where I'd come, the green of spring winding it's way amongst the jagged rock.​

Robed woman feeding a beaver.​

As I soaked in the mouth of the canyon, this Chukar Partridge taunted me from on high.​

Having decided that I'd make a concerted effort to enjoy myself at a less leisurely pace on the way back, I stuck with my original out-and-back plan as I re-entered the canyon.

If only I could just keep walking.​

I couldn't just keep walking.​

Hiking up the canyon was like entering a cathedral, even more than my trip down had been.​

In the end, I did make better time on the way back than I had on the way down - thank goodness - and it was just after 5:00pm when I found myself ascending the last of the dry falls before reaching the trailhead. With sunset at 8:15pm, I had just three hours to cover a series of trails that I expected to take all of that time - assuming of course, that I didn't run into any trouble along the way.

Almost back.​

From Painted Canyon, I had approximately 65 miles of bumpy backroads between me and my planned camp on a formation seemingly called The Tongue. A long, narrow plateau reaching out into the Owyhee Canyon and looking down onto Lake Owyhee, it seemed like a great place for sunset and sunrise, and I'd hoped to arrive with plenty of time to get setup before our big ball of fire dropped below the horizon. I knew now, that it was going to be a race.

Rolling hills of green as far as the eye can see.​

Still a bit of snow up on the top of Mahogany Mountain, around which I would be driving.​

I'm not sure I've seen so many cows grazing in the Owyhee's as I did on this trip.​

Going solo.​

It was as I was nearing Mahogany Mountain that a Swainson’s Hawk rose up out of the sagebrush along the side of the road, a four-legged furry bundle falling from its grasp. Bummed to have ruined its dinner, I drove a little way up the road before stopping the Tacoma and returning on foot, hopefully to witness a retrieval of its prize.

My approach did not go unnoticed.​

Target acquired.​

A blurry attack!​

Excited to have seen the hawk do its thing, my stomach reminded me that - even if the sun still hung in the sky - it was time for dinner. Unfortunately, the digital clock on my dash suggested that dinner now would most definitely mean that I'd arrive to camp well after sundown. I pushed on, south along Mahogany Gap Road, to - what I expected to be - an intersection with Mahogany Creek Road. Except that instead of an intersection, I found an old homestead!

Seeing the flag flying, I wasn't sure if someone still lived here.​

A little poking around answered my question - while ranchers might occupy the cabin sporadically, it was no longer a primary residence.​

When you're really into angus.​

Wandering around the homestead turned out to be advantageous in more ways than one. While the intersection I'd been looking for was nowhere to be found, I spotted a faint trail that seemed to lead in the approximate direction I'd hoped to travel, and figured that - if I was to stand a chance at arriving before dark - I ought to give it a try.

Which was a great idea, until the road dead-ended at the edge of a 4-foot deep beaver pond!

Seriously, beaver!?​

After squishing my way through the sticky mud in my muck boots - looking for some way across, but finding nothing - I retraced my route for several miles, convinced that any hope I had of arriving before dark was now lost. Ultimately though, it was another unmarked trail that connected me to Fish Creek Road, saving me from an additional 25 miles - half of them heading east to Highway 95 on Mahogany Gap Road, before retracing those same miles west - on Jordan Craters Blowout Reservoir Road, just a little to my south.

Needless to say - as it became apparent that I was going to find my way through - I was elated! Still, I'd soaked up valuable time as I'd investigated my reroute, and the sun was already on the horizon as I passed an abandoned cabin along Upper McCain Spring Road at the base of The Tongue.

This cabin has seen better days, but the setting seemed perfect to me as I passed it on my way to camp.​

Headed out on The Tongue, the colors I'd hoped to enjoy from the edge spilled across the sky above me.​

Having allocated three hours, my three-and-a-half-hours journey to the edge of The Tongue meant that I enjoyed the sunset as I drove, rather than - as I'd planned - from the cozy confines of the tent, after leisurely deploying camp. Still, as I looked out over the vast wilderness below me - the wind gusting to 40mph - I couldn't help but marvel at the wonderfully beautiful glimmer of the river as it flowed north under a purple sky.

After a cloudless day, a windy evening brought visual interest to the sky and color to the landscape below.​

At this point, I had a decision to make - brave the windy conditions out here in the open, or look for an alternate location to setup camp for the night. I wrestled with this decision for quite some time - on the one hand, hoping to get a quiet night sleep, on the other, knowing how much I would enjoy waking up in this place.

Looking back now, I think I knew the answer to where I would camp even before I considered looking for an alternate location - the draw of camping on The Tongue just too great to be denied - and soon I was orienting the Tacoma into the wind and setting up the tent in what would be one of the windiest nights I've endured.

Still, with earplugs, and after a long day on the road, I hoped that the gusts would rock me to sleep, rather than keep me awake. Only time would tell, but no matter the outcome, I knew that I had another day of out-and-backs to enjoy, and that was enough to put a smile on my face as I closed my eyes on another great day in Owyhee.

Spring Flowers of Day 1

Usually I sprinkle a flower here and there throughout a story, but I saw so many on this trip that I figured I might as well save them up for the end of each post and highlight them as a group where the variety of color can really be enjoyed.

Balsamorhiza Sagittata - Balsam Arrowroot​

Indian Paintbrush​

Wild Mustard​

Sweet Pea​

Showy Phlox​

Daffodils​

 

Absolutely incredible. What are you shooting with?

 

Thanks!

Here are the details on my current setup (which I was using by the time we ran the NMBDR). I've been using it for a couple years now, and I've gotta say that I'm quite happy. I could use a few more megapixels on the sensor, and I'd like more control over the activation of the electronic viewfinder, but otherwise, no real complaints.

Involuntary Evolution to a New Camera and Glass (Canon R6)

 

A Little Drama in the Sky - Out-and-Backs #2
Part of the Owyhee Out-and-Backs (May 2022) trip.

Out on the end of Owyhee's Tongue was one of the windiest nights I've ever spent in the tent. I think things calmed down for about two hours - between 10:00pm and midnight - but for the rest of the time, it was like sleeping in a washing machine. For how windy it was, I still slept relatively well - waking up now and then when the entire truck was rocked on its suspension, but always dozing back to sleep within a few minutes.

I woke up an hour before sunrise and snapped a cell phone photo before zipping up the tent again and sleeping for another 90 minutes!​

Having known that clouds were scheduled to roll in after the previous beautiful blue day, I figured there wasn't really any point to being up for sunrise, so I hadn't even set my alarm. My hope for today was that the weather-guessers had gotten it right - clouds but no rain - and that there'd be enough contrast in the clouds to provide a little drama to the day's photos. Only time would tell, but the windy morning in camp - when I got my first real view off of The Tongue - seemed to get off to a good start!

Just a peek of sun for the day, streaming in under the clouds that would only grow thicker.​

The rain fly was definitely getting a workout!​

I decided that before having breakfast - I knew it would be "interesting" to try and pour/eat Cheerios in 40mph gusts - I'd do my best to get the tent put away. I've found that having the side of the tent oriented into the wind seems to result in the least wind noise at night - unintuitive to me, given that it presents a larger surface area - which meant that I didn't have to fight the wind to fold everything up, a small win that I was grateful for!

Fifteen minutes later, I was inadvertently distributing Cheerios across The Tongue as a gust of wind carried several of them over the edge of my bowl. Determined not to lose any more, I headed for the edge of the plateau, where I hoped to eat in peace. It was truly amazing how calm it was just below the rim - if only I'd been able to park here the evening before!

Looking south, the Owyhee River winding its way toward me.​

Directly across from the tip of The Tongue, colorful walls rose a couple hundred feet above the water.​

To the south, Lake Owyhee. Just visible in the lower right, I completely missed the metal roof of a cabin I'd visit just a few hours later!​

Breakfast consumed - and the wind driving me from my camp - I had three out-and-backs planned for the day, in addition to the and-back that I still had from The Tongue itself. And so, I set off on my first - a bit to the east - down into Spring Canyon.

Dropping down off of the plateau, the landscape below me looked promising!​

Soon, I was driving into the landscape I'd seen from above.​

It was as I was making my descent - or rather, that I was out of the Tacoma photographing it - that I heard a roar overhead. "Strange," I thought, "it sounds like I'm in Death Valley." Sure that I'd look up to see a passenger plane, I was stunned to see a couple F-15s engaged in a simulated dog fight! Having only seen my first dog fight a few weeks earlier, I was pretty excited to see another one, so far away from the first.

America.​

After watching the air show for as long as they remained in the sky above, I climbed back in the truck and continued on my way - my spirits high with the day off to a fabulous start.

Owyhee geology. I don't know what it is, but it's all volcanic.​

Before long, I found myself at a gate. This isn't all that uncommon in Owyhee - after all, the entire place is used by ranchers for grazing - and as I was opening it up to pass through, some names etched into a rock next to the gate caught my eye. I went over to investigate.

The names didn't turn out to be that interesting - likely fakes given the "1820" date, but I did really like this detailed elk; to my knowledge, not a local beast.​

A few minutes later, I caught my breath as I reached the bottom of Spring Canyon. Below me, a grassy field spilled up and down stream, the absence of cows allowing it to thrive. The road continued both directions, meaning I had a decision to make - not that it mattered, as I was sure to investigate both directions before I was done!

Wow. And already the sky was doing a good job of adding a bit of drama.​

I decided to head down-canyon first. I'd heard from Kenny ********* - a friend who knows the Owyhee area well, perhaps better than anyone - that there was a locked gate at the bottom of the road, and I wanted to check it out. Sure enough, as I neared Lake Owyhee, a gate presented itself - to keep boaters with UTVs nearer the lake, I assumed. I parked the Tacoma and carried on, on foot.

My satellite research hadn't suggested that there was a cabin here - and I hadn't noticed it from The Tongue - so I was excited to find one when I arrived.​

The cabin was in great shape, and is still actively used. No Trespassing signs and surveillance equipment are present, so I just took a shot through the window.​

I couldn't resist making it all the way to the edge of the lake!​

With the lower trail in the bag, I headed back up the canyon to see what else I could discover. Already, I'd seen another relatively well-constructed cabin a little further up the access road, but I wasn't sure what to expect as far as occupancy was concerned and I had no idea if the road would continue to more cabins as it wound its way north - over Mahogany Mountain and toward Leslie Gulch.

I can totally see why folks - at least at some point - would want to live here.​

From a distance, the cabin looked pretty official - especially for something this far out in Owyhee.​

Looks like I found the MacKenzie place. A joint venture with both brands!​

Not currently occupied or even totally finished, there were building supplies that looked decades old - hauled out and then never installed.​

The cabin was by far one of the nicest I've seen, and I did a bit of trash pickup around the place - leaving it nicer than I found it, something I hope the MacKenzie would appreciate - before climbing back into the Tacoma to continue up the trail.

What a view from the front yard. The green grass - unchewed by cattle - was flowing in the wind.​

I continued up the trail for several miles until it really started climbing up Mahogany Mountain. While I could have continued following it, I knew - from previous adventures in this neck of the canyonlands - that the road was gated and locked on the opposite end. Between myself and that point - somewhere - was wilderness, so there wasn't really any point in pushing forward when I knew I'd have to turn around anyway. Instead, I slowly made my way back to the main valley, soaking in the views as the upper canyon looked down on the lower.

A little spot of sun seemed to highlight the rock face below.​

I really liked the layered look of this basalt. It is not - as it appears - sedimentary rock.​

Back in the valley, my first exploration of the day was complete, but I found myself dragging my feet rather than hurrying on. The views down here - and the wind blowing through the long(ish) grass was just fantastic, and I spent 10 minutes doing my best to capture it.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/FaHbsmSnQiw

Wind in the grass. Captured poorly.​

Wrapping up the out-and-back Spring Canyon, my next out-and-back wasn't far away. In fact, it was just on the opposite (west) side of The Tongue, and soon I was once again dropping off of the plateau into the valley below. I was headed into Blue Valley.

Despite their proximity, the feel of the two canyons couldn't have been more different. While both were green with spring, Blue Valley had very little of the orange rock that I'd been immersed in all morning. Rather, rolling, folded hillsides stretched out as far as the eye could see - only broken by distant buttes and the meandering flow of the river below.

Down into Blue Valley, the clouds continued their dramatic contribution to the landscape.​

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

At the bottom of Blue Valley, the road forked. I'd be taking each fork - both out-and-backs as it were - before the day was done, but I decided that I'd head east, first, to the old Watson Cemetery and to some petroglyphs I hoped to find. It turned out that this section of trail was rather narrow and rocky - mostly designed for, and travelled by, ATVs. Having discovered the previous afternoon that I'd forgotten to reinstall my front skid plate - after a Shop Day at Zane's - I decided that it'd be prudent to hike the final mile, rather than risk a cracked oil pan.

Cross-country travel at its finest.​

Look at those layers!​

The Watson Cemetery still sports a reasonably fancy gate.​

There were only six headstones in the entire place, two of which were blank. I wonder if others have been completely lost to time.​

I was excited to find the petroglyphs I'd been after. Their style seemed to match others I've found in the Canyonlands, though I've never seen a rainbow here before!​

There were quite a few petroglyphs at this site, but my favorite was this tree surrounded by dots.​

Unlike my slow pace in Spring Canyon, I kept up a reasonably quick pace in Blue Valley. There were a couple reasons for that, but the most important at this particular time was that I was getting hungry. There'd been a perfect lunch spot near the Watson Cemetery - and I could see my kitchen - but alas, it was a mile upstream.

If only I'd driven, I could have been enjoying lunch rather than hiking towards it.​

The other reason I found myself speeding up a bit was that the clouds overhead seemed to be a little more... threatening than they had in the morning. I didn't feel any real worry - yet - of actual rain, but I did find myself wishing that I'd checked one of the ham radio weather stations for the forecast prior to dropping down out of broadcast range.

The Owyhee Canyonlands are no place to be when rain turns the roads to a mucky mess!​

With only a mile to cover, I was back at the truck in no time, and headed west on the second fork of the Blue Valley route. Ultimately, this fork would take me to Hattie Harrell's Island Ranch, but first I had more draw-dropping scenery and lunch to enjoy.

The sky isn't looking great, but that mountain-of-volcanic ash sure is!​

Winding my way along the river, wondering how long the rain will hold off.​

When the sun poked through - for the last time it would turn out - I seized the opportunity and assembled lunch in a rather perfect location.​

​

I've seen this arch before.​

It was a little after 1:30pm when I spotted Hattie Harrell's ranch in the grove of cottonwoods ahead. We'd first seen this ranch from the other side of the river - almost exactly a year earlier - on our Owyhee West trip, and I'd wondered ever since, what it was.

Curiosity - nearly - satisfied.​

It turns out that - like the Griffith Ranch a little further upstream on the west side of the river - the creation of the Owyhee Reservoir led to its demise. From a U.S. Bureau of Reclamation sign:

Satisfaction.​

The ranch house was built in two phases it seemed - likely with the wooden structure being added to the stone one - and connected by a hallway - as the family grew.​

A ranchers home.​

A nearby dugout looked quite appropriate under a dead cottonwood.​

In the yard, an old thatching machine lay rusting under the gray sky.​

One of two waterwheels that irrigated alfalfa hay grown in the Harrell family fields.​

Well, with a bit of my curiosity satiated by visiting this homestead I'd been wondering about for more than a year, it was time to scratch another itch that had been bothering me for approximately the same amount of time. On that same trip - along the west side of the Owyhee River - I'd spotted a road high up on the eastern escarpment of the canyon. A series of switchbacks, I made a note to investigate when I got home.

I year earlier when I spotted this zigzag I thought, "Doesn't that look intriguing!"​

Now, with a bit more knowledge, and a lot of history, I couldn't wait to investigate this trail. That is, assuming the rain held off!

 

Dang it, Dan youre going to make me pack up and head back over there. The Harrel ranch looks like it is right across from the slide that took out the road on the west side. Beautiful write up!

 

I always try and stop at the cemeteries. They offer a small picture into the lives of residents. I'm always surprised at the youth of those who've gone before us. A hard life for sure.

 

It was when we were at the slide on the west side that I spotted the Harrel place last year. There's actually a ford across the river nearby, but given that I'm usually there in the spring, the water levels are always too high for me to make it across. I spent quite a while looking for the route down; I think a lot of folks either do the ford or come up from Leslie Gluch when you can drive along the lake/river edge. Was a very cool place down there.

It's a mix for me. I really like the cemeteries, but I probably only stop at 70% of them now, dependent on how rushed I am in the day, and the views from the cemeteries. I feel like the story at each is often the same. Children dying after a few months, etc. I do always find it fascinating though, to see the general age of the cemetery by the dates on the headstones. One of the coolest (for me anyway) was Bodie, since there's been a lot of research into who is buried their, and their relation to the town.

 

There have also been some “recent” burials there as family members passed. For as near to the road as it is, very few visit.

 

Ya, Mahogany Rd is locked at "Gunsite Pass" on the south side of Mahogany Mtn. I took a pic. This morning. I'll post when cell doesn't suck. This trip would blow if it wasn't so funny. Rain is a bitch on the dirt roads. 95% is ok, but that 5% - like driving through pudding... on ice. This is what happens kids when you don't plan!

ETA:
Pic from the closed side:

Not uploading....

 

Ok, that worked out for posting.

I parked where I could turn around and walked 10 yards to get this pic. You can see it's been awhile since any vehicle has been through that gate. Great drive to get there, if it hadn't rained.

My original plan was, coming from CA, to hit the Owyhee River at the 95 and head north keeping as close to the river as possible. Certainly looks doable on Google Maps. It might be, if one does better planning and looks at a weather report.

first attempt was locked gates and No Trespassing signs. Then slick muddy roads. So it was back to the 95 and try further North. At one point I made it to the "Old Ion Highway". Old as in single lane dirt track. That worked for 20-25 miles until I got to a Owyhee river crossing where I guess they made the wagons into barges and floated across the river. I didn't have a wagon, I had a Taco.

Lots of retracing my path in and back out. Actually saw the river and lake 3 or 4 times. Last night there was just north of the dam, right on the riverbank, great spot. Watched the trout jump and wished I'd bought a license.

 

Bummer! Much of Mahogany Mountain is private, and it's also some sort of "Wilderness Study Area" (I put that in quotes because I'm not sure if it's an actual WSA, but there is a sign about whatever it is on the north entrance - also a locked gate - off of Leslie Gulch). Best bet when you're on Mohagany Rd is to jet out through (more private) land along Mohagany Gap Rd. There are gates to go through, but they are unlocked - and you eventually end up on the road to Jordan Craters... of course, the easy route is just to use the Jordan Craters road from the get-go, off of US-95.

Even then, no matter if you'd gotten to the river, there are no truck-passable roads that run along either side for any real distance. ATVs can go farther, but while the water is high (now), even they can't make it in some places.

Sounds like - despite the out-and-backs, and the mud - that you had a good time, which is awesome. It's a pretty cool place to explore out there!

 

Gaia GPS has a "private land" overlay. I'm not sure how well it works but it's there

 

I bet it works pretty well. Gaia seems to be the best of the apps, though I haven't used OnX in a while. The entire Owyhee region is a mix of BLM and private, I think largely from historical homesteads. but the Mohogany Mountain area in particular has a lot of private land. At that point, it's up to the landowner as to whether gates are locked or unlocked. Then, only the lucky folks (I know one, but am not one myself) get keys.

Peach is BLM, White is private. The (unlabeled) red triangle in the middle is Gunsight Pass where @BKinzey got stopped. The first black road to the north/northwest of it (with the "passable?" label) is not passable - it's the one I referred to above as having a locked gates at the north end (and, as it turns out, along the southern length as well), though not immediately.

 

I credi

Incredible! As always I get super motivated by your posts! Thanks and cheers!

 

Absolutely! We're leaving for UT and CO tomorrow, my map is waypointed with a bunch of cemeteries in small/ghost towns.

Without looking it up, do you know the difference between a cemetery and a graveyard?

 

I don't use it much but there's also a "public tracks" feature.

 

Graveyards are when they are at a church.

 

Correct, you are ready for Jeopardy! My understanding is that "cemetery" implies that the land is specifically designated as a burial ground, while a "graveyard" primarily refers to a burial ground within a churchyard.

Graveyard = with church
Cemetery = without church