mk5 adventures

Ha sounds like the NJ Turnpike. They revamped that thing years ago, took em probably 15 years to finish. By the time they finished, they were already re-paving parts that had been “finished” and were already collapsing.

It’s almost like they plan this out for job security. I am no civil engineer, but we could definitely make our roads last longer!

 

Rainbow Unicorn

It was the perfect mix of bad decisions and good company. A most-epic adventure.

Sorry folks, this isn't a trip report. It's not that I don't want to regurgitate 12 pages of monotonous text, or process another three dozen photos to hit the quota. It's mostly that I've got a flight to catch. Like, soon. But I want to post some cool pictures, and can't sleep for some reason.

Future me says he'll edit this post into a proper report. Not sure I trust him though... For now: welcome to the context-free zone.

All we need is a vague intro:

The day began with a bang -- a spectacular yet ill-advised and immediately regretted experiment. All in the name of safety.



Hell yeah. Let's ride the rainbow.



Y'all know rainbows lead to gold, right?



Behold: where gold comes from.



The guy above came up with this next shot, and I fucking copied it. Then I drove home and posted it on the internet. He's still camped out there with no cell service. Ha!



Sorry dude, it's an awesome shot.



For as redundant as these all look, it still takes forever to set them up.




Oh, and I have another bone to pick.

There's supposed to be green comet somewhere in the sky, at least according to fake-news NASA.



Do you see a green comet? Me neither. Trip after trip, all I see up there are clouds. Sometimes a stupid moon.

Maybe they already shot this fake-ass comet down... I'm a few days behind on the news.

Wait, nevermind, there it is. Green... check. Moving across the sky... check. Blinking... check.



Cool, a comet!

 

The colors man… so trippy



Fantastic pics as usual. Have a safe flight.

 

Rained-out chicken-out

A few short days after having "discovered" the spectacular utility of UV foreground illumination to spice up the uninspired mediocrity that is my night photography, I found myself again hiking in darkness, camera in hand, towards one of the most promising and exciting night photography destinations I'd yet planned to visit. (Given my recent start to the hobby, that might not say much, but I was still excited!)



Anyway, here are the two things I'm seeking for night photography: 1. Something interesting in the foreground, and, 2. the spectacular background of a crisp dark night sky. That's right, one of the two things is always the exact same thing. And I still love it!

Summer nights are best because there's more 'wow' in the sky, at least here in the northern hemisphere. That's actually true in all three hemispheres, but in the southern one they call these same months winter. So while I wished it were August tonight, I had scheduled the trip for February knowing full-well that February isn’t August. No worries -- even winter skies can be fun to photograph -- so long as you can see them. And there's two threats of concern there: the moon and the atmosphere. Both are complete assholes hellbent on ruining the night skies for me, but luckily the former is quite predictable. So I made sure this hike had been scheduled for a moonless night. So far -- so good!

But that's where planning stopped and luck took over.

It was pouring rain! Had been for a week, and would be for the next. And apparently that's the norm for February in whatever godforsaken hemisphere this place is.

Not that this deterred folks from hiking here in the darkness of night ... from time to time a headlamp appeared in the distance, and I would soon pass another group of rain-soaked hikers returning to their cars in silence.



You might wonder why this hiking trail looks like a highway. It was indeed once a road, but it can't be driven today--this portion, because of a vehicle barrier erected by the park service; but a mile or two further, because the ground it traversed collapsed into the crater of a volcano some years ago. You can still see the old roadbed down there too--at least from photos I found online. All I can see tonight is darkness and rain. And a red glow.

And that brings us to the long-anticipated foreground subject for my photography session. It was about 1AM when I got to the overlook. I could have come earlier, but I kept hoping the rain would let up. The weather app predicted a drop in precipitation this one hour, down to 90%, returning to 100% for the remainder of the night... and the rest of the week. This was my shot, and I arrived right on schedule.

It turns out that 90% precipitation is still pretty damn wet, though.



There it was. A glowing red hole in the ground. Diligently photographed by yours truly, perhaps my most underwhelming yet most-cherished “destination” night-shoot yet. And with no skies in sight, suddenly my intended foreground became the background. And that damn UV flashlight, with the newly-to-me-discovered ability to provide bizarre contrast and colors to whatever foreground objects I can jog to and illuminate within a 30-second exposure ... was a continent away, still sitting in the cupholder of my pickup truck. I'm not claiming it would have made my photos good, but it might have made them better.

It was hard to be disappointed, though, as the occasional lull in the winds and rain revealed unearthly (yet quite literally, earthly) gasps and groans emanating from the erupting volcano before me, even if mostly unseen save for the red glow it instilled to the clouds enveloping the terrain.

It was spectacular. The most memorable night hike of my life. But you'll have to take my word for it, because obviously, these are some pretty lackluster photos. I recommend this hike to anyone -- even in rain.




Just past this sanctioned overlook, a more-impenetrable barrier stands to deter even foot traffic from gleaning a closer look via the old roadbed. Some that night had chosen to ignore it, the glow of their flashlights evident in the prior photo, appearing to enjoy a commanding view of the crater from directly above it. I managed to intercept them at this barrier on their return trek, hoping their route might reveal to me some secret well-worn bypass, or that the resulting conversation could otherwise help convince me to proceed further myself. The interaction revealed little more than I already knew: the way to proceed beyond the fence was to climb it in overt defiance of the law. And... the view from beyond the barrier was absolutely worth it.

I sat there for a while, already fully drenched, listening to the rain and the occasional muted echoes of the geological processes unfolding nearby. I finally placed on foot on the barrier and pulled my weight off the ground, affording a clear view of the aging roadbed beckoning me towards oblivion. I gazed at its apparent terminus, the furthest reach of my headlamp... and imagined the spectacular views awaiting me at its precipice beyond.

I still kind of regret turning back.

 

I keep killing shocks.

 

multiple ko2's & now shocks?

 

If you break everything before it wears out, you don't have to worry about things wearing out!

Still running the same ancient shocks, too. I don't know their history, but based on the branding, can conclude that they were were made during the same presidential administration as my truck was.

Had them rebuilt with new top-hats (or whatever they're called) and am back to abusing until they break again.



Calico

As we all know, Calico is a hokey tourist trap you drive past on the way to "real" desert destinations such as Death Valley, Mojave, or the Outlet Mall. Or at least that's what I thought. Not sure where I got the idea, but never gave it a second thought. No thanks.



Recently made friends with some Jeep folks, who for many years participated in Jeep-club-organized Jeep runs to popular Jeep places in Southern California with their Jeep, so presumably know the region better than I do. We began by making vague plans to go somewhere sometime, eventually discussing specific locations on specific dates. I threw out all my favorite destinations ... various canyons of Anza Borrego, that stupid railroad bridge, selected Death Valley favorites such as the whole entire park and its vicinity, some Old Dale mines I wanted to revisit, vast swaths of the Mojave Preserve including several mines that don't even exist because I'm bad at remembering names, that stupid railroad bridge again... the list goes on. I was so smugly pleased with myself--some of these places they'd never even heard of! Maybe this Tacoma guy was a SoCal off-roading expert too, I thought, what with his snorkel and fake winch. Probably a real bad-ass.

But as the date approached, and try as I might to politely suggest somewhere worthwhile to explore, these guys kept wanting to go to Calico. Whatever, I figured, I wouldn't mind riding the little choo-choo train at the amusement park, and they might even have ice cream. I love ice cream. And no matter what, it would be fun visiting a new place with new people who knew where to go and what to do.

I don't know if it's a Jeep thing, or a symptom of underlying mental problems, but these folks harbor the stubborn delusion that the day begins at dawn and that we should make the most of it. This was preposterous, of course -- nobody knows when or why the sun rises, because nobody is awake that early in the morning. And nobody cares either, for the same reason.

As a compromise we agreed to meet them at 8AM -- already pretty early for us. But then, instead of meeting up at the nearest McDonalds so we could eat our way out of a hangover--I kid you not--these folks wanted to meet at the trailhead! Like, up in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, at 8AM! I couldn't believe it. I did the math... that would mean getting up at 6AM... It was so bizarre I texted them to check the math. Yep, 6AM. Alarms were set.

My phone broke the silence at 5:59. I'd been asleep for less than three hours. But instead of the alarm, it was a text message. Jeep guy was sick. Couldn't make it. Sucks for him. Alarm cancelled. Back to sleep. Whatever.

We got up around noon and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast like normal people. Low and behold, the stupid sun was still up, so I figured, "let's go check out this Calico place anyway." I had done no research, but figured we'd just get there and pick a road and look at cool old mines or whatever... then maybe eat some ice cream. I have a basic set of topos loaded in my radio thing on the dash, and that's usually enough to find a route.



We pulled off pavement at the first canyon past the amusement park. My map indicated a road went up this canyon to "Bismarck (site)" which definitely sounds like an old mining camp. Even better, the route made a loop. Perfect day-trip material right there -- we'd check out this old mine and loop back for ice cream!



I could already tell it would be a fun drive -- right there in the wash, there were already a bunch of mine works to explore. I can only describe them as "gigantic anthills."



Look at these ... I don't know... arch things? We can drive through them!





And there were all sorts of holes leading into the ground... so much to explore!



I didn't find any ore this time, but I wasn't looking too hard.





Then we headed up the canyon. I missed the fork to the left so the decision was already made... we were heading up the east fork of the loop first. The terrain got more and more impressive as we approached the point where the trail changes from a broad wash to a narrow canyon... several canyons merge here, but only one is a driving route. I bet there are tons of great hikes here too.







The canyon wall here looks like it's made of faces contorted in agony. Reminded me of a texture from Doom II: Hell on Earth! Hopefully not a bad omen or anything. Kept this fact to myself just in case.



The first narrows of the canyon were quite spectacular! Maybe these Jeep people knew what they were talking about, after all... Calico is great!



I heard some vehicles approaching so I gunned it through the rest of the narrows. No way to pass here. Made eye contact just in time, and they politely pulled to the side for me in the boulder field at the far end of the canyon.

We made terrible time up the canyon, though. It was pretty brutal -- but definitely fun!

One noteworthy obstacle is this dryfall:





Might need to install that high-clearance bumper someday... I drug the hitch on this and so many other obstacles that day. But against all odds, I didn't pop either tail light!



Another noteworthy obstacle... a steep narrow squeeze, cambered to one side in an attempt to make you smash your mirror or doors on the wall. I came damn close, too. Had to climb out through the passenger door a couple times to get my bearings!





Apparently this road used to be paved! It's called "Doran Scenic Route" on my map, which sounds like somewhere you'd take your family in a station wagon, right? But the only hint of pavement we'd seen by then, was this little pad of asphalt clinging to the uphill side of the canyon, no more than a few square feet in size. And I kept slipping off of it and being tossed towards the opposite wall. Jeez, isn't pavement supposed to make it EASIER to drive???



Couldn't find a confidence-inspiring anchor to winch from, and figured that if the strap slipped, I'd hit the canyon wall for sure. Wound up stacking some rocks for the left tires to climb instead. Sorry, trail nazis... I didn't want to break my mirror! Pretty sure the canyon has already flooded again, as of today, so those rocks are somewhere else now anyway.

Definitely a lot of mining history here, subtle hints that this place used to be buzzing with people. Like this hand-built wall holding back loose rock from above:



A final obstacle on the way up was a spot I've since learned is called "pucker pass." The roadbed climbs up the side of the canyon, but is washed out, such that you have to either drop one tire down into the washout, or climb the other up the canyon wall. Neither options seem particularly pleasant for those of use who prefer our vehicles to remain upright. There's also a steep bypass going up the center of the canyon, but it appeared to be pretty technical. I don't think driving up the ledge would be too bad, and in fact, so long as you don't roll over, it'd be super easy. But I had an additional data point to consider: When we arrived here, a vehicle was making his way up said bypass in a huge cloud of smoke. Only the second group of vehicles we'd seen all day. And I've never seen tires slip quite that much on trails like this, was he doing burnouts or something?



Nope, it turned out he had rolled off the ledge and spent some time upside down. Yikes! So that made it easier for me favor the bypass rather than trying my own luck on the ledge. I hiked up to chat and he offered to spot me up the bypass, too -- awesome! I had been kind of worried up to that point. The bypass is actually considerably more technical than the ledge -- just less risk of rolling over. Definitely a good spot to have lockers. And earplugs, if you don't like the sound of your frame bouncing and scraping over rocks the whole entire time.



By then it had been several hours, the sun was about to set, and we were kind of tired of technical driving. And hungry. Shit -- the ghost town might close soon... I wanted that ice cream! Good news though, my spotter had told us this was the final obstacle, and it was (relatively) smooth sailing the rest of the way out. Sweet! Let's go check out this mine site real quick then. We soon lost sight of the leading pair of vehicles, one still belching smoke, as I stopped to snap just one or two more photos...



Perfect timing up top! The sun was just setting.



What a beautiful day.

The mines up there looked quite fascinating, too. Wish I had time to explore them. But it was time to head back.



According to my map, that means heading back down the other canyon. Which soon became arduously technical, just like the other one -- so much for smooth sailing!

It became pretty evident that those other guys must have known a different way back to the pavement. The canyon was brutal, especially in darkness, and we were soon back to scraping our way over boulders non-stop. God help me if I ever need to pull those skids again... I'm afraid to even look down there.

I didn't take many pictures... we were hungry and tired. Along the way we dropped down a pretty impressive dryfall, I'd guess at least four feet high, and crooked. Trailer hitch to the rescue, I guess? We were kind of worried at that point, if the trail got much worse, I'm not entirely certain I could have gotten back up that step. But I checked the map... this was the way out.



I got high-centered pretty good in this spot. Just poor choice of line... hard to see in at night, and was sick and tired of constantly hopping out. Who designed this stupid hood, anyway? Can't see shit over it.

A couple jarring clunks and a terrible scraping sound, and suddenly the wheels stopped working. I mean, they turned and stuff. But we didn't move. What the heck, TOYOTA???

Was about to break out the jack to backtrack and re-approach, but managed to jam rocks under a front tires to climb forward. Got out a few times on the drop to make sure the driveshaft was clear. I think we hit everything else down there but luckily not the driveshaft. Pretty sure we'd need that to get home!



Getting close to the bottom, we saw another cool canyon section. Normal excitement had given way to weary concern about how long it'd take us to backtrack should the route be impassible. I hopped out top walk it first, confirming it was indeed a super-fun drivable canyon, after which a side-road emerged to the right before the main one entered an even-deeper, even-steeper, and seemingly impassible final drop to the wash below.

I hiked up the side road, which appeared to go... somewhere? Further than I wanted to walk. Instead I scampered up a hill to get a cell signal, so I could check the satellite images to see if that road led somewhere useful.



The good news is that the escape route was good. I'm sure that bottom canyon section would have been super-fun if we were driving a rock-crawler or whatever. But we were driving a mostly-stock pickup truck with a snorkel and a fake winch. Plus we were, like, really hungry. It was smooth sailing back down to the wash, and along the way met a jeep headed up and confirmed we were heading the right direction to civilization. Only the third group of vehicles we'd seen all day -- so much for my worry that the place would be overrun with ATVs. I still managed to get kind of lost making my way across the wash... washes are always confusing at night. Low and behold, that Jeep stopped at the ridgeline and literally drew a line towards the graded road for us, with a green laser pointer. Now that's customer service!!!


Didn't take long to get air in the tires, then food in our bellies at Barstow. (Yeah... we missed ice cream at the ghost town, shucks. Plus I'm lactose intolerant or whatever.)


Anyway, I have to say, Calico is epic! Those Jeep people knew the best possible spot for a day-trip. Wish they could have joined us though, but don't worry... there will be a next time. Can't wait to come back!

 

Calico has been on my to do list for ages and ages, but like you say I always end up just driving by instead. I'll be forewarned of the technical challenges now!

 

Yeah, I don't know exactly why I never gave it a thought, but man, it sure was fun to explore! The route I randomly chose was pretty technical, but it looks like there are many other trails there, even to get to that same mine site. In hindsight it was stupid to drive up there on our own... we only saw six other vehicles the whole time, and ours was by far the least capable. If things went poorly we'd be spending the night in a canyon with no cell service and heavy rains due the next night. But man, those were some cool canyons!

 

You didn’t get the ice cream. Lame.

 

Great write up and photos about a place I've never been to but have passed by many times.

 

PRISON MIKE


Yo, that's shizzle!

Honestly not sure what this has to do with a truck forum, but who cares?

Hit this one fresh on the heels of watching John Wick on opening night. Already knew it'd be good, and it was, but then they dropped that beat from the first and we instantly knew it was about to get even better. And it did. Didn't even notice how long it was, but suddenly it was almost 2AM. Time to drive to Vegas, catch a flight, maybe grab some sleep on an ultra-economy narrow-body, then swing by Waffle House on the way to... yep, PRISON:



Non-stop drizzle on the drive to Jeff City -- fo' rizzle.



Wasn't sure what to expect... braced for mediocrity, but lugged a tripod and stuffed my pockets with camera lenses and LEDs in hopes for the best...



When the warden said she'd throat-punch the next motherfucker she saw with a headlamp, I knew shit was about to get real.



A lot of folks come to ghost tours looking for ghosts. I was just hoping for some cool photo setups... and hot damn, if the ghost-seekers had as much fun as I did, they're bound to be traumatized for life, because this place fucking delivered.



They literally turned off the lights and gave us free run of the place! Go ahead and drop that beat now... this is exactly what we came for.



It was fun listening to the ghost-hunters run around with their ghost-hunting cellphone apps. Evidently the ghosts here all had Tourette's.



They claimed we'd have a few hours, but it felt like a few minutes. How supernatural is that?



Even tearing down produced some great shots. A bit terrifying though -- the warden barged through at ground level, shouting up to me that playtime was over before I had even set up my tic-tac-toe composition shown somewhere above. Hence the misaligned positioning of yours truly on the top row, rather than eerily backlit at center as intended. It was a narrow unlit several-hundred-foot trek to and from the stairwell to change levels, and I had placed lights on all three levels above ground-level. I got lucky in that I had set the camera up for continuous exposures when leaving it there on the third floor on my way to the fourth with the last three LEDs. The above shot captures my hasty retrieval of those placed on floor three, some time after said warden had departed for the night, leaving great question as to when we'd be locked in the cell block forever for having lingered too long.



So thank god I managed to clear out all my lighting and retreat out the door before they slammed it shut it for the night. Otherwise you'd be seeing this on Unsolved Mysteries and not Tacoma World. Plus my wife would be super pissed. She was hanging out on ground level waiting for me the whole time. The place was super haunted -- no way we'd have survived the rest of the night on our own... at least not after my camera battery died. So long as that camera was running, Satan himself could have clawed at my ankles and I wouldn't have cared. That's the power of infatuation.


His-n-her's seating -- how romantic!

Tour ends at the gas chamber. Catch y'all next time.

 

Damn dude, those are some cool shots. I don't get it - you had the place to yourself? Pretty gutsy to setup all those LEDs if there were other folks taking photos as well. Of course, I'd have loved it if I was there, so maybe they were glad you showed up!

Also, I'll just leave this here.

Mike: They'll think I have a drone if I take the shot like this.



Mike: Seems safe, those beams collapsed a long time ago. Let's go.

 

That was the fun part ... far as I can tell, I was the only one there for photos instead of ghosts. Definitely the only one with a tripod at least... some people were shooting video, but everyone was walking around with flashlights and e-meters the whole time. Folks were asking me what ghost-hunting purpose the LEDs served -- hopefully they didn't interfere with anyone else's enjoyment of the place. But compared to the flashlights, the LEDs are barely noticeable except during long exposures. It took me a while at each setup waiting for an exposure without flashlights, but sometimes the flashlights helped too. There were literally three huge buildings to explore, so it didn't feel cramped. Check it out next time you're in central Missouri!

Glad you're being safe out there in the old mines!

 

NOW WITH 2X MORE OVERLANDING!!!



Make sure to like and subscribe.


I'll go ahead and edit in some commentary. People are going crazy over all this AI stuff lately, but I'm not too impressed with it yet.





I'm afraid AI has a long way to go before it can match the raw power of human inanity.

 

Don’t tell us what to do. This is a free country!!

 

Great pictures, that takes me back to when I was stationed there in the late 70’s

The B1 is an absolute beast!



2022 Edwards Air Show


It was an epic show.

 

Anza Borrego Live

Howdy y'all. I'm back in Anza Borrego tonight. Set up camp at Hollywood and Vine... right along the route of my first adventure with this truck some 5 years ago, almost exactly. And right down the street is where I rode out the first week of the pandemic. I actually haven't been back out here since then ... not since getting a camera. Wanted to see what I could do on a moonless night out here, and was hoping to catch some flowers too. Looks like I'm a bit late for the latter, and a bit too optimistic for the former. Whatever.



This was supposed to be a two or three day trip with someone else. But life gets in the way. Glad to be out here, even if it just turns out be a five hour drive to go somewhere three hours away, miss the sunset, take shitty pictures of nothing, and head back home the next day. The desert still kicks ass, even if light pollution sucks.

I'll be updating this with photos as the night progresses, so stay tuned or whatever.

Edit 1: Took a bit to set up the data connection. It's already dark. We're already behind.



A bit earlier I saw a nice low pass from a helicopter. Not like terrain-following low, but for being pitch-ass dark, definitely too low to be anything but a military bird. No way there's ATC radar coverage out here... mile-high mountain ranges in all directions. It was hard to tell where he (or she) was heading before I had to throw the shutter open, so here's what I got:



On my way in, already well into twilight, I got totally confused as an orb of illumination overtook me, parallel to but some distance from the highway, just as I was coming up to the landing strip, not far from here. Was there an ATV careening just off the highway? Whatever it was, it was really really fast, because I was already driving fast. Turned out to be an aircraft with a spotlight or maybe a landing light on. Thought I was about to get a front-row seat to a wildly liberal interpretation of a VFR landing at this short unlit strip. But nope, it was a helicopter, flying low, but not getting any lower. Just puttered along eastward, flying low enough to light up the ground with a spotlight for whatever reason.

I wonder if this was the same one coming back. I crudely estimate the timing would make sense for dropping off or picking someone up at Yuma. Or maybe it's any of the other gazillion rotorcraft that fly this route daily. I made a point of waving at them, in the pitch-ass darkness and all. Hopefully they saw me.


Edit 2:



His name is Steven!

No more low fliers, but I hear ospreys somewhere up there.


Edit 3: I forgot to mention, but the Hollywood and Vine sign is gone! What the fuck? First time I ever find the place unoccupied, and the fucking sign is gone. Would have been a cool photo.

Edit 4: got buzzed awake by a cobra or something at 11. Now completely lost. This is great.

Edit 5: Dropping into Fish Creek now, that'll be it for cell service. Happy Friday y'all.



Edit 6: More photos



I dropped my camera. That sucks.





Fucker didn't want his photo taken.



Just too damn much light pollution out there.



Meh.



Whatever. Great success.

 

Fantastic! Love all those shots.

Camera OK? That's a bummer. I remember that feeling. Of course, if you did as good a job as I did, you can always use it as an excuse to upgrade. I'm trying to find an excuse to upgrade mine, but probably not by running it over this time so I can recoup a bit more of the investment.

Edit 1: I'm going to live update this comment.

Edit 2: I moved Edit 1 to the bottom, since the comment was the original edit.

Edit 3: Well, not really the bottom, since Edit 2 required words as well. Sort of the middle bottom for Edit 1 now, especially given Edit 3 (this edit). Soon, it'll be near the top, I guess.

Edit 4: Was out in Utah last week trying to get some shots of my own. One place was called "House on Fire," and if you showed up at the right time, the sandstone makes it look like the ruins are blazing. Not sure if I showed up at the right time or not.

​

Edit 5: Did you make it to that place on the 23rd? I forget if you mentioned it anywhere that wasn't a PM, so I don't want to ruin it for everyone else by using the name, if you haven't.

Edit 6: This live reply idea did not work as well as I'd hoped it would. I'm going to bed now.

 

There is no right time, only the right place, and even then, only rarely.

Here you go, I'll fix it for you. You just have to crank all the sliders to the max, then paste in some flames from an internet image search, like this:



Now it looks like it's on fire.


Edit 2:

YESSSSS and it was great! They politely asked us not to plaster it all over social media, not sure if TW counts, but in any case I haven't even unloaded the photos yet.


Edit 2.A:

Okay I at least grabbed the photos now. Here's a gif of us camping in a spot I obnoxiously proclaimed (over on the DV thread) that I'd never be able to camp at, owing to the preposterous permit requirements... Attending the tour brought us through Furnace Creek in time to grab a permit after all!






Edit 12.C(III):

Yeah, the live posting doesn't work out as well when nobody's listening. Whatever, at least I'll never feel compelled to write a "trip report."

Thanks for tuning in!