AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

Rebuilding and Revalving My ADS Suspension
October 16, 2021.

It's been nearly three years since I installed my ADS suspension on all four corners of the Tacoma. I did the rears first - twice, actually - relocating them for more travel. The fronts were installed not long after, and of course I've been battling the spherical bearings ever since. In that time, I've put 88,000 miles on the truck and I've known for a while that it was time to service the shocks.

For anyone who just wants a step-by-step guide on rebuilding shocks - as opposed to reading the story of my experience - I've created a step-by-step guide - with all the parts, tools, and pictures along the way. You're welcome to head that direction, though hopefully the story that follows here adds some nice color to the process.

Step-by-Step Rebuilding/Revalving of Smooth Body Shocks
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In fact, serviceable shocks should generally get a going over every 50K miles or so - though I've heard that you can go to 100K if things seem to be working well. So, not only was I getting up there in mileage, but I also wanted to make a couple modifications to my existing setup - to change the valving a bit, and to move the reservoirs for the front shocks to a more convenient location - easily accessible in the wheel well, rather than mounted to the top of the frame horns.

Obviously, I started by procrastinating. There were a few reasons for my procrastination, which I'll list here only to make myself feel better. Or to give others in a similar situation a bit of solace.

1. There are lots of (expensive) special tools needed for the job.
2. I know exactly nothing about rebuilding - not to mention revalving - shocks.
3. I knew that once the shocks were off the truck, I was out-of-commission for trips until I got them rebuilt and reinstalled. Hopefully, correctly.

Of the three issues, there was only one that I could easily solve - the first one. Frankly, it was just a matter of throwing money at the problem. And, as it turns out, I had two buddies - Mike @Digiratus and Dan @drr - who lived nearby and also wanted to learn how to rebuild shocks, so we pooled our funds and picked up the most expensive tools so they could sit in our shops for a while.

A press, nitrogen kit, and spring compressor.​

It turns out that having the tools handy didn't actually solve the real problem - a complete lack of knowledge about what I needed to do. As is often the case, I needed to find someone willing to help. And so, almost a year passed.

Over the course of the year, I traded various bits of correspondence with two gentlemen who were critical in my rebuild. Tim @TMFF at 303 Shock Services was the first guy I got in touch with. Tim has a great service for the off-road community where he rebuilds shocks (and sells some of the easier-to-DIY parts) for folks like me. Ultimately I ended up describing to Tim what I wanted to do, and asked him if he'd assist me in gathering everything I'd need and then selling it to me.

It's here that I need to mention that I wasn't sure how he'd respond - after all, I was asking him to help me with something he usually charges for. In the end though, Tim seriously came through. Not only did he help me acquire the various seal kits, oil, and ADS-specific tools I'd need, but he also (for a fee, which I was happy to pay) put together some new compression and rebound shim stacks to revalve the shocks while I had them apart. (A bit) more on that later.

Tim is a rad dude, for sure.​

I also reached out to Tyler over at ADS, and mentioned to him what I was up to. I was going to need his help gathering the hoses and mounting brackets to relocate my resis. As usual, he was super responsive and got exactly what I needed sent my direction, answering several questions along the way.

Always nice to work with someone like Tyler.​

With most of what I would need now in hand, I was finding it harder - but never impossible - to procrastinate. And so, I started researching what it would take to do the actual rebuild. There is - at least in my opinion - relatively little info out there on rebuilding these higher end shocks. There is however, one great YouTube video from Ben at Shock Service LLC where he rebuilds a King shock. After watching the video, I sent Ben a few questions, and like Tim and Tyler, it was a pleasure interacting with Ben. He sure seems like a fun, happy, helpful dude.

I couldn't delay any longer, so I worked up the courage to coordinate a time with Dan and Mike that we could get together - Dan graciously offering his shop - where we could finally get down to business. And then - pretty quickly - I realized that could be a real problem. I mean, what if I hadn't actually gotten everything together that we needed, or if we ran into some snafu during the project?

I realized that I needed to bite the bullet and try a shock or two myself.

The first victim.​

I'd already removed one of the rear shocks to patch up my cracked axle housing, so I figured that starting with the rears would probably be the easiest. And - at least if I totally screwed it up - the truck would still be drivable without it.

I set to work following a set of steps I'd put together from Ben's video, and for the most part things seemed to go well enough. Certainly there were differences between the King shock that I'd seen disassembled and what I was seeing with the expertly crafted piece of art on my workbench, but there wasn't anything that left me completely stumped as I set aside each part that I removed.

I was relieved that there was only a small pool of oil on the nitrogen side of the resi. I hadn't totally destroyed my shocks!​

Smooth sailing from here - the shock shaft is the last part to come out.​

That's a lot of engineering right there.​

The first shock took be the better part of 4 hours to take apart. I was going slowly, double-checking myself, taking photos, and making notes about differences from what I'd seen online. I've gotta say, it was a great feeling to have everything spread out on the workbench, confident that I could certainly put it all back together again.

As often seems to be the case, the bulk of the work is necessary just to access the few little bits that need to be serviced. A shock rebuild is no different - the actual replacement of seals and o-rings is simple once you've got access to them.

There are four seals on this internal shaft retainer/wiper.​

All the seals I replaced in one shock.​

In addition to replacing the seals, it was also time for a revalve. My shocks have been mostly great with the stock valving from ADS, but I've always wanted to tweak a few things:

• On road - I want a slightly softer ride - to make the long highway stretches a little more comfortable.
• Off-road - I wanted a bit more dampening before I would hit my bump stops (slower compression of the shocks) as well as a little slower rebound as the shocks were re-extending. A little bit like trophy trucks that slowly rise out of their squat after a jump, I was hoping to change my down-up-down-up action to one that was simply, down-up.

This is where I had no idea what to do but where Tim's knowledge and experience really shined. With a bit more detail about my truck - what it weighed (5600-5800 lbs), the spring rates I had on the front coils (650 lbs) and leaf springs (+600 lbs over stock) - he sent me new compression and rebound shim stacks for each shock that would get me to the behavior I was looking for. Or, at the very least - since revalving is part-art and part-science - closer!

Old and new shim stacks.​

With new seals and shims in place, reassembly of the first shock was lightning fast - when compared to teardown. At two hours, it took twice as long as the rest of the shocks, but I felt pretty good about it as I was filling the shock tube with the last bit of oil and securing the end cap!

Time for some pretty red oil.​

Soon enough, I was done. I'd taken a bunch of notes - for the next three shocks - and photos, of course, and boy was I proud of myself. Trust me, @mrs.turbodb got an earful, that's for sure!

A couple days later, I got together with Mike and Dan to do the front coilovers. These would be easy, I thought - having wrapped up the second rear shock in just under two hours. Plus, it'd be super fun to show these two guys how to do something that none of us had done a week earlier - a reversal of roles as they are usually the ones educating me on our trucks!

Gotta love the safety of a wall mounted spring compressor. The creaks and groans from the spring as it was compressed made every last one of us glad that we weren't using a rental tool from the parts store.​

But, almost as soon as we got started, we ran into an issue - we couldn't figure out how to get the coil off of the shock. I'd expected it to work like Kings, but there was no gap in the bottom plate to slide over the shock shaft - and that plate needs to come off in order to remove the coil. Luckily, Mike was able to give Matt @M C M - another ADS expert - a call on Sunday morning and get a quick answer as to freeing up a retaining ring hidden under the bottom plate.

This little retainer is ingenious.​

The rest of the rebuild went reasonably easily - though I probably over-explained everything because it ended up taking nearly four hours! Not unlike the time needed to read this story, I suppose.

Besides removing the coils, two things were a bit different than the rears - first was that I replaced the hoses between the shock and reservoir. A simple procedure, this would allow me to mount the resi in the wheel well - and that would make it easier to remove every time I have to service the spherical bearings.

Original resi position on the top of the frame was always hard to access.​

New hoses.​

New resi location.​

Second - since this was the first time I'd seen Dan and Mike since starting this project - we got to fill all four shocks with Nitrogen using the custom setup they'd pieced together. A simple process - with the right tool - and super fun to do!

The kit.​

A quick zip and the shock is pressurized!​

The only problem - if it can be considered that - was that my loquacious carrying-on during the rebuild meant that we only got one shock taken care of before we had to head our separate ways early in the afternoon. Luckily, Mike had brought along a couple old Bilstein 5100s from Zane @Speedytech7, and he and Dan quickly installed them on my truck as I cleaned up some of the mess we'd made during the day.

​

My first experience with 5100s. They were fabulous. I should have put these on the 4Runner instead of the OMEs I installed.​

I wrapped up the last coilover once I got home, and with that, my first shock rebuild was done. Looking back, one of the coolest things about it was the team effort that went into the process. Really a cool community to have folks like Tim, Tyler, Ben, Mike, Dan, Matt, and Zane (in order of appearance, LOL) all around to pitch in and help any way they could. Thanks to every last one of you!

 

Well done dude, looks pretty fun actually!

Wanna do a set of SAW 2.5 coilovers?

 

Nice work dude! I always enjoy your detailed writeups. I can't even tell you how many times I read over your initial ADS install and review before I finally bought mine. I've read about shock rebuilding before but never to this extent. Now I understand why it's so dang daunting, that's an insane amount of seals. Thanks for doing this!

 

Thanks! Was quite a bit of fun, really, even though it was a little terrifying to get going. Certainly not the hardest job, but probably the most expensive from a special tool perspective.

And I'm happy to help you with your SAWs. Would be fun to see the differences. Shout when you want to bring them over.

Thanks Roman! Hope you're enjoying those ADS shocks. I've always liked mine, and now that I've rebuilt them, I can say that they are certainly well-made. Good folks over there at ADS.

 

Yeah, you've got the best tool for the job when it comes to removing those spicy coils though. Can't tell you how many I've done with the sketchy screw type ones, thankfully I haven't received my Darwin award just yet but its mostly been on car suspension, I don't dare use em on the trucks. I'll see about getting the seals and some oil for them and maybe it's something we could do sometime in Jan if you're up for it.

 

Would love to. And Jan is a good time too.

 

Did you measure youre stacks? new and old? if so post some damn numbers.

Smaller diameter flutter is all i can see from the photo

 

So, one thing I noticed (and I suppose Mike and Dan noticed) when rebuilding the coilovers, was that the shock shafts had a couple of spacers on them, which was very different than the rear shafts. Pics for details:

Rear smooth body:


Front coilover:


I was curious if these spacers could be removed. Doing so would allow the shock piston (the bit at the top with the pyramidal shim stack on it) to move further down toward the internal shaft retainer (the piece with the black o-ring, which is secured at the end of the shock body). This, in turn, would mean that the shock shaft was moving further (out of the body), giving more down travel/extension.

I have heard - third or fourth or fifth hand, mind you - that sometimes shock vendors have a "regular" and "extended travel" version of the same shock, and the difference is in some spacer. Are these the spacers, I thought?

So, I contacted Tyler over at ADS and asked. I always write my emails in green, a holdover from old habits that die hard.

Morning Tyler -

I noticed that in the front coilovers, there are two, ~3/4" spacers on the shock shaft between the internal shaft retainer and the piston (well, between the shaft retainer and compression shim washer, technically). That seems like it significantly limits droop/extension of the front - by 1.5" or so. Can you give me details on why those spacers are there, and whether I can remove them in a future rebuild?

Cheers,
Dan​

Tyler got back to me as quickly as ever with this response:

Dan, the spacers are called stroke limiters they allow us to use the same shaft in many applications by just changing out different thicknesses of limiters we can change the stroke. Instead of having 100s of shafts we can narrow it down, if you remove them you will over extended your control arms, steering, and CV axles, they are opened up to the safe amount of travel for the application, and are all extended travel from a stock version.

Thank you
Tyler​

All of that makes sense, obviously. It probably - technically - varies a bit from truck to truck. I know, for instance, that on my truck, my control arms allow more down travel (extension) than the shocks, which is why I went ahead and installed limit straps, but in general, I get what he's saying. Surely at full extension and full lock in a turn, a lot of stress would be on the CVs, and so keeping extension in a more "reasonable" range is - understandably - what ADS is going for.

I'd be very interested to see the internals of a King coilover in person. Or any other brand for that matter. Perhaps they too have the same spacers. Or maybe the shafts are shorter.

 

king cuts their shafts shorter and to whatever size they need. The spacers that you are refering to that are often removed in Kings/SAWs/Foxes are only like 1/4'' or so plastic spacer. Not that giant thing haha

 

Well we will see the insides of a SAW/Camburg/AFe coilover soon. Not sure what's in those. Tim likes em, must be a reason for that, but I haven't heard much about their innards. I know with my icons the rebuilders removed the travel limiting spacer to make them extended and people with kings have removed theirs themselves. ADS' explanation makes great sense though if that's what they're doing to keep the shaft collection smaller. Might be able to take one of those 3/4" spacers out and Chuck it up on a lathe and take it down to get that last little bit of avail travel on your truck. But we're dealing with a lever ratio too so I think removing a whole spacer would be a lot and might put you in bind territory, ADS are already quite long compared to other COs. The Icon internal limiting spacer was like 1/4"

 

The short answer to this is no. When I found that Dan was installing whole new shim stacks, it was too late to measure them. I did get one set of he is old, original ADS stacks (both rebound and compression) to measure and document what the starting point is.

 

In Search of Warm Water - Last Minute 1
Part of the Last Minute Rush (Oct 2021) trip.

For the last eight months or so, I've been trying to get us down to the area along the Nevada-California border to explore the area west of Lake (Nevada) and northeast of Mono Lake (California). One of the highlights - I hoped - would be summiting Mt. Patterson.

For some reason, it seems that each time I made a plan, something would come up - another trip, bad weather, all the National Forests in California closing - that kind of thing. And, as it got later in the year, I'd pretty much written off the trip - after-all, by mid-October, and at 11,654 feet, the highest point in the Sweetwater Mountains would surely be inaccessible.

Still, with several days open on the calendar, I made plans for us to head south and give it a shot. We might have to come back for the summit, but it seems we always want to return for more exploration no matter where we go.

And so began the rush - first to get the truck ready, and then to experience the wide-open spaces before one of the largest storms in California's history ripped through the area. But now - as usual - I'm getting ahead of myself...

Today, the story starts as it always does - heading south from Seattle, this time in the rain. I’d gotten a bit of late start - having had to drop @mini.turbodb off at school before leaving, but traffic didn’t seem bad. In fact, only a few minutes after my departure, a strange sight - I-5 north was completely empty!

Free sailing going north?​

Not so much. Ouch.​

Thanking my lucky stars that the catastrophic collision with a concrete wall happened in the opposite direction, I made consistent progress south - through Washington, Oregon, California, and eventually Nevada finding myself at my destination some 15 hours after I’d set out - Walker Lake. I quickly deployed the tent, pumped up the Exped Megamat, and plopped myself into bed knowing that I’d have a full few days ahead of me - my alarm set for a few minutes before sunrise as I quickly nodded off.

High desert camping on the edge of Walker Lake, A little too close to the highway, but convenient!​

In the distance at the south end of the lake, Hawthorne had a constant flow of truck traffic through the night.​

Having arrived around midnight, I was reasonably well-rested when I awoke the next morning. Looking out the tent window, I could tell I’d timed things perfectly, and that nature was certainly cooperating. A nice mix of clouds and clear sky, and no clouds on the horizon, meant that I was likely in for a beautiful sunrise. I pulled on my clothes and grabbed the camera. I didn’t have to wait long.

Watching the color creep across the sky from the east until the entire sky seemed to be on fire was a perfect way to kick off the day.​

I did my best to push the worry out of my mind as I noticed a bit of snow at the top of the Wassuk Range, west of Walker Lake.​

Running solo, I decided to hold off on breakfast, soon I was pulling back onto the highway for the last few miles of pavement before I turned west over the Wassuk Range. I didn’t make it far - maybe 200 feet or so - when I spotted an old mining road leading up the eastern face of the mountains. Curious - and several series of switchbacks beckoning - I figured that I could spend a few minutes checking it out. In the end, I spent a bit over an hour!

Up, up, up. I gained over 2000’ of elevation by the time I was done.​

End of the road.​

The road terminated at a few different spots, each of them clearly old mine sites. I have no idea what they were after here - probably gold - but while there wasn’t any equipment to explore, one of the sites did have a shaft that extended into the mountain a hundred feet or so, with a couple forks. I ventured in.

Some interesting colors on the ceiling.​

Headed back out.​

My curiosity satisfied, I headed back down the hill and onto the highway I’d crossed a little more than an hour earlier. Turning south, I was soon passing through Hawthorne - filling up my tank and three 5-gallon Scepter jerry cans, as I didn’t expect access to fuel for the entire duration of my three-day trip! That - as you can imagine - was fine with me, and a few miles later I was headed up and over the Wassuk Range on Lucky Boy Pass Road.

Hawthorne is home to the Hawthorne Army Depot, the largest storage facility in the World. It stores reserve ammunitions to be used after the first 30 days of a major conflict.​

Onto dirt and into the mountains.​

Basin and Range of Nevada.​

Lucky Boy Pass was very nicely graded - a side effect of several active mines in the area, and just as I reached the summit, what comes barreling my direction but the most I-mean-business-grader that I've ever seen on a back road. Clearly they want to keep this road smooth and comfy for the armies of truck drivers that frequent it each day.

Off the road? I beg to differ, I'm creating road.​

My first real destination was a hot spring that I'd ferreted out from a couple photos I'd seen posted on the internet. Actually, I suppose that it'd be more accurate to say that I thought I'd ferreted it out - based on several hours of searching satellite imagery and matching up a few surrounding landmarks. Not to spoil the story, but it turns out that what I thought was the hot spring, wasn't. Anyway, we'll get there in a minute. First, I had a few roads to travel as I crossed the Mason Valley on NF-28, and then headed along the southern edge of the Singatse Range on ********. It was a beautiful morning, and I stopped several times along this section of trail to snap a few photos of the wide open spaces and the fall colors that dotted the landscape.

Note: a few roads and place names are redacted in this story in order to protect them from the internets. If you know where they are, please do your part to respect them, and keep them special.

​

An old dugout, still in use today by the resident of a nearby house.​

A dusting of snow in the distance on Mt. Patterson -a landmark that would not only become familiar, but that I also hoped to climb.​

My first glimpse of fall in Mason Valley.​

The colors of the cottonwoods reminded me of Colorado's aspens.​

A few hours after I'd left camp, my stomach was rumbling and I arrived at an old homestead - one where I planned to eat the breakfast I'd put off on the shore of Walker Lake. As is often the case, the lure of exploration won out over the grumbling of my belly, and before pouring myself a bowl of Cheerios - which I really should have done first - I walked around the camp to check out the various buildings. There were six - or so - of different vintages. Clearly, an old stone cabin was the oldest, along with a couple of outbuildings. More recently, a cinder block cabin was constructed, and still contained a reasonable assortment of furniture and appliances - though of course, none of them were functional.

The original homestead.​

Now in a state of disrepair.​

More modern accommodations.​

Just to date myself a bit… I could fill this role at Cesars that I found in a newspaper ad on the kitchen counter. That is, had I not missed the application deadline by a measly 29 years. I'm becoming ancient.​

Having explore the main area of the homestead, I listened to my body - screaming for food - and prepped a quick breakfast before wandering off to check out what looked like a tarp over a structure an eighth of a mile away. I was surprised when I got there to find that it wasn't just any tarp over just any structure. Rather, it was a brown tarp - for camouflage - over a rather modern and well-appointed white tent. I have no idea if this was being used by a squatter or rancher, but I approached cautiously and noisily to ensure that I didn't startle anyone who might be inside.

Well, that looks… a tad shady.​

Don't mind me, just taking a photo of your secret hideout.​

My invasion complete, I headed back to the Tacoma and did a quick wash-up of breakfast dishes and repacking of the stuff I'd gotten out of the back. My early exploration of the mining road near Walker Lake had set me back a bit from a schedule perspective and I was worried that I wouldn't have the time I needed to get through my entire itinerary. Back in the truck, my sights were now set on ****** Hot Spring as I made my way through the valley.

Colorful hills, speckled with sun, and partially blocked by a Tacoma.​

There, that's better.​

Ka-pow fall is here.​

Soon, I found myself turning north onto *********. This was the road that - I hoped - would lead me to the hot spring that I was sure I'd spotted via satellite. But first, there were a few important stops to make along the way. This road - like most of the roads around it, I'm sure - was quite clearly created for mining. Of what, I'm not certain, but gold would be my best guess - and so as I wound through canyon walls and down washes that exposed millennia of sedimentary layers, it wasn't all that surprising to stumble upon an old headframe.

On the prowl.​

Layer upon layer. I thought it was cool how well-defined these layers were.​

Below this headframe, a shaft extended some 30 feet or so.​

A bit further along, lay the skeleton of an old bus. Perched semi-precariously on the hillside, the entire front was missing - making me wonder if it'd been used as a trailer rather than rolling here under its own power. Interestingly, it had skylights - not something I feel is common on busses of any era.

Rusting into oblivion.​

Can you spot the evidence that - however the bus arrived in this location - it was once used living quarters?​

At this point, I was withing spitting distance - well, almost - of where I expected to find warm water. Hopping back in the Tacoma, I found myself full of nervous energy - wondering if my sleuthing would yield the desired result. I pushed on the thousand feet or so to the spot I'd marked on my map.

There was no hot spring.​

In fact, not only was there not hot spring, but I was looking at a bunch of dead reeds and shrubs, and quite honestly, I didn't understand how I could have possible associated this landscape with a sort-of-circular pool of water. An image from times past - wetter times, perhaps.

Not sure what to do, I figured I might as well just drive to the end of the road - after-all, I'd made it all this way, and perhaps there'd be some more cool mining paraphernalia to look at. So that's what I did, winding my way along the creek (the *****************) for another mile or so. Along the way, several spur roads looked fun to explore, and with my soaking time now free, I figured I'd check them out on the way back.

But then - in a spot that I totally didn't expect - I saw it. I can't quite convey the sense of relief that I had at that moment. I mean sure, it was sort of just dumb luck at this point - because clearly the spot I'd hunted out was wrong - but I was still thrilled to have found this little oasis in the high desert.

The time and care that went into creating this pool is evident as soon as you see it.​

A pleasant 102°F, or so.​

Not a bad view from the pool.​

In the end, I didn't soak long. It's not that I don’t like a good hot spring - especially one that's as clean as this one - but it's just not the same without someone else there with you to enjoy it. So, after five minutes or so, I toweled off and reclothed myself before heading for the Tacoma and the side roads I'd passed on my way down. The first one I explored wasn't too long and ended at an old mine camp. All that was left was a small shed and a bunch steel semi-buried in a mis-mash of tailings piles. I probably only spent 5 minutes here as well, before turning around and heading back the way I'd come.

When you build a mine shed this close to the wash, you must know it's not long for this world.​

Heading back out, through a fun little dip in the road.​

The second spur I took, I originally thought would be an alternate - and more difficult - route back to the main road I'd originally turned off of in order to find the hot springs. Following a wash into a canyon, the walls began to get tighter and tighter the further I pushed forward.

Heading up a small canyon.​

As I continued on, it reminded me a bit of upper Echo Canyon in Death Valley, though the walls were certainly not as tall as those in Echo Canyon. After a half mile or so, the road curved sharply and at the same time the wash became stone rather than gravel - I'd arrived at a dry fall, again, much like upper Echo Canyon. It was at this point that I decided a prudent move would entail a bit of foot work, and so hopped out of the truck to check out the next few turns.

It was a good thing, too, because I'd have been able to make the first two or three turns through the narrow canyon, but I surely wasn't going to be climbing over the 36" diameter rocks on the fourth turn and backing out through the entire thing would have been a pain. Instead, I hoofed it back to the truck, and zoomed back out the way I'd come.

It wasn't lost on my that I'd been lucky - now twice in the course of an hour. And I'd soon find myself wondering if I'd used up all my luck for the trip, almost before it began...

 

I have often wondered how many secret hideouts people have in the back country...

 

While I generally enjoy your photography, some things cannot be unseen.

 

I think I've stumbled on three or four over the years. Mostly folks just wanting to be left alone, I think. This one was certainly the "least trashy" of the ones I've seen, but I was also surprised that it was so close to the old homestead - seemed like it would attract visitors.

(I made sure to keep it PG-13 at the most, though I could certainly use a tan, hahahaha.)

 

Into the Mountains - Last Minute 2
Part of the Last Minute Rush (Oct 2021) trip.

It was a little before 2:00pm when I rejoined the main road through Mason Valley and headed north. I wasn't sure how far I'd get, but the views were great and though I wished for a little more blue sky, I really had no complaints as I crested a hill near the southern end of the valley, a grove of cottonwoods following the creek, below.

Into the mountains.​

Always fun to zoom in and compress the background a little bit in situations like this.​

Apparently, I took a lot of photos here.​

A few minutes later I was driving into the grove of cottonwoods and feeling like I'd driven into Colorado's the high elevation stands of aspen. The colors were fabulously brilliant, and the blue skies I'd been hoping for were suddenly overhead. Even though I felt like I was in a bit of a rush, I couldn't help but to get out and enjoy the golden glow.

When every leaf is a flower.​

Road narrows.​

For a while, I wound along next to the creek - sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other - making good time on the nicely graded East Walker Rd. Eventually though, the river meandered its own direction and I was once again in the sage-covered basin and range that makes up so much of Nevada's landscape. It was here that I passed through one of the few fences I'd find across my route.

I much prefer the pace of ungraded roads.​

Given the state of the barbed wire, I'd say there's a good chance not many cattle roam this way anymore.​

The road along this section of the route was full of whoops, and I had a good time pushing the suspension - which I'd recently rebuilt (see Revalving My Suspension) - a bit to see if the new seals, oil, and shim stacks - made for a better ride. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm no expert, but it seems to me that the new shim stacks that I'd gotten from Tim @TMFF were certainly doing what I'd requested - allowing the truck to soak up the uneven terrain. To my feel, both the compression and rebound of the shocks was slower than before, reducing the down-up-down-up-down-up to more of a down-up-down-up.

After several minutes of high-speed fun, I noticed an old stone building on a small offshoot and pulled over to take a look.

Lonely old storage building framed by Mt. Grant in the distance.​

The current resident. I was shocked by how blue the top of this western fence lizard was, as opposed to the more common coloring where blue is only on the belly.​

Don't you try to sneak up on me. (Note how some of the blue turns to green from this angle.)​

One of the things I always like about old buildings is that the placement and orientation often seem more thought-through than modern day structures. Doors and windows almost always frame a nice view.​

My stop was brief, and soon I was once again heading into the mountains - an unnamed mine, my next destination. Climbing from 4500' to a little over 7200' over the course of just more than a mile, I soon found myself on a platform, with a relatively well-preserved 5-stamp mill cascading down the steep slope.

Perched over the valley.​

There wasn't much else at this site, but the mill was fun to explore.​

A belt would turn the wooden wheel, which in turn caused the cams to raise and then drop each of the five stamps.​

Built a few hundred miles away, over 115 years ago!​

Looking down from the top level.​

I wandered a few of the nearby spurs, looking for more mining paraphernalia. In the end, I was surprised to not find much else - the rest of the camp clearly "cleaned out" after it was decommissioned - since I figured that the mill was likely one of the more valuable pieces of equipment, but was left to rot.

Satisfied that I'd seen what there was to see here, and a little worried by the clouds that were once again gathering overhead, I set my sights on the next stop along my route - the summit of Bald Mountain in the Wassuk Range.

Whereas my my previous climb into the mountains - to investigate the mine - had taken me a mere half-mile higher, the climb up Bald Mountain rose nearly a mile - some of it quite steep - and topped out at 9186', nearly a mile above where I'd started.

I was high enough that there were patches of snow on - and beside - the road.​

Microwave radio towers transmitting into the distance.​

Just over the ridge, and a mile below, Walker Lake.​

To the south, the snowy top of Mt. Grant.​

It was windy at the top - or at least, windier than I'd experienced earlier in the day. And cold - a good 30°F cooler than at the bottom of the valley. These two things easily explained the rain/snow mix that started falling as I made my way back to the Tacoma, hoping that the weather would blow through quickly - so I could enjoy the remainder of my trip!

Starting my descent into an afternoon storm - hopefully not a sign of things to come.​

As is so often the case, I made quick time down the mountain. For me, this is more a result of not stopping for as many photos - the photos having been taken on the way up - as any benefit offered by gravity. From Bald Mountain I continued north - for a bit - before making a 180 degree turn and heading in the opposite direction, albeit eight miles west, in the adjacent Smith Valley.

Even in the intermittent rain, I couldn't help but to stop. Boys and their toys, amiright? ​

A most colorful grove.​

As I headed south, the storm that'd blown in from the west now in my side view mirrors, a much more welcome - though still partly cloudy - filled my windshield, and my tires once again began to kick up dust in the road. The clouds would come and go for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, but for now, my views of Mt. Patterson to the south, and of wispy clouds to the west, left me energized for the next segment of my adventure.

I'd originally hoped to summit Mt. Patterson, but with snow at elevation, it wasn't looking like that would be in the cards on this trip.​

I've never seen formations like this before. I think the horizontal lines are contrails, but the perpendicular combs were fantastic.​

I'd gotten a tip from @Y2kbaja that the road (FR-192) up to the KSVL transmitter in the Pine Grove Hills - and especially the two-track connector (actually a combination of FR-22814, FR-42371, and FR-42216) to another Bald Mountain, was a great trail, and so I'd mapped it out along with a few side routes - in the hopes that I'd stumble on some old cabins or mining operations as I explored.

A rocky ascent. Parts were steep and loose enough that I even switched on the rear locker for a couple of sections.​

KSVL transmitter in sight. And once again - a dusting of snow on the ground.​

I arrived at the top of the mountain a few minutes before sunset - and just a hair after 6:00pm. It was perfect timing, really. One of my favorite things to do is camp on the top of a mountain or ridge, and I hoped that there'd be a nice site somewhere below the towers where I could deploy the tent to hole up for the night. First though, I wanted to have a look around at the top.

Some towers over there.​

Another one over here.​

The entire summit was covered by towers and their support buildings. Generators were chugging away - whether actually supplying power or simply self-testing, I wasn't sure - making for a rather inhospitable camp environment. The views though - as the sky to the west took on a purple hue - were exactly what I was looking for.

Looking into California's Sweetwater Mountains, and once again, Mt. Patterson.​

A little bummed that I wasn't going to be able to camp on the top of the mountain, I figured that I'd surely find something within a mile or two - even if it didn't have quite suck a commanding view - that I could call home for the evening. My biggest concern, really, was that it looked like it could rain again, and I didn't really want to get stuck on some muddy roads out here in the middle of nowhere.

Heading down the south side of the mountain. @Y2kbaja was right - some great views here!​

Not far down the road, I came to a four-way junction. Besides the road I'd travelled, one fork would take me back to the Smith Valley, another would shuffle me along the route I'd planned to Bald Mountain (the second summit of the trip with that name), and the last would take me... well, I had no idea.

So that's the one I took.

Within another half mile, I was quite sure that I'd made the perfect decision. Climbing back up on the ridge, the road led to a wide-open area with expansive views to both the east and west, and then petered out. There was no fire ring or other indication of previous campers - a surprise to me given the views - but I wasn't complaining. with the last of the evening light I quickly deployed the tent and snapped a few photos before putting the camera away for the night.

As I looked out at Mt. Patterson, I found myself wondering how far I'd make it the next day, or if I'd even give it a try. There sure did seem to be a lot of snow up there, and this was most definitely the dry side!​

Dinner - a simple affair since I was on this adventure alone - consisted of a couple hot dogs, some cool water, and an apple for dessert, all of it eaten while standing in front of the stove - my butt already having gotten enough seat time in the previous 48 hours.

Before heading into the tent, I pulled out the camera for one final shot​

It had been a full - but rewarding - first day of exploration. As I snuggled under my comforters in the tent - the wind picking up a bit, but only to 10-15mph, nothing too bad - I wondered if the rest of the trip would go just as well or if I was in for a rude awakening the next morning.

The weather channel on the ham radio had warned of a big storm on the way - 50+ mph winds, and many inches of rain. The only question was: when would it hit?

 

i cant stop reading this fucking thread

 

Yeah, I thought that sign was super appropriate, in its accidentalness.

Edit: Whoops, sorry for replying here, got caught in my multi-quote.

 

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