AdventureTaco - turbodb's build and adventures

I think that is the entrance to Pine Creek Canyon, which is just outside Zion. We used to go down there for climbing, but since getting into technical canyoneering it's pretty much all we do. I think I'm just lazy and like working with gravity more than against it.

 

What seats are you all using that you can comfortably spend so much time in your tacos and not be crying with back pain?

 

I've seen a number of people who've had issues with back pain, knee pain, etc. from the stock seats, but I've never had any of that. I'm 6'-4" so my head about hits the ceiling and my knees are always bent, but the seats have never been a big issue for me. I put in leather seats from a 4Runner Limited a couple years ago, which have the adjustable base and lumbar support, so that is an upgrade.

I believe @turbodb has stock seats with wet okole seat covers, not sure if they have lumbar support built into them or anything like that.

 

F.U.Rain Day 11 - We Follow the Burr Trail to the Henry Mountains
October 9, 2018.

In perhaps the most uneventful morning of the entire trip - a good thing! - it was 8:45am before I woke up and climbed out of the tent, our perch at the mouth of Escalante Canyon beautiful under clear blue skies.

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I wandered around a bit exploring the edge of the canyon, torn between wishing that I'd gotten up early to go explore the canyon itself, and the 8-hours of uninterrupted sleep I'd gotten. I suppose that, given the canyons we'd seen so far, the sleep was likely the better option, even if I hadn't made it purposefully ::. And so, I headed back to camp to see what I could do about accelerating the drying of my tent (already happening in the sun, but it never hurts to speed that up).

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As I was toweling off the stargazer windows on the top of the tent, Mike @Digiratus and Monte @Blackdawg ventured out into the day - likely awoken by the ruckus I was making, but the reward far outpacing the pain of getting up. Like me, Monte wanted to see the canyon up close, and so headed out immediately as Mike and I got going on our morning breakfast rituals, the tents continuing to dry off.

But the canyon was pretty far away - probably a good ¾-mile or so - and it was with a tinge of the same regret I'd felt that Monte returned to camp to get everything packed away and ready for another day on the road. A beautiful day.

We were out of camp by 10:30am, our tents mostly dry (dang the shady side!), and definitely drier than they'd been the previous couple days - a win in our book. Today, we were headed northeast - through the town of Boulder, UT and then to the Burr Trail, which would take us through the colorful, varied landscape of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, Capitol Reef National Park, and finally to the base of the Henry Mountains.

Our first stop was just before we reached Boulder at Head of the Rocks Overlook. This viewpoint on highway 12 provides amazing views out over the Escalante Canyons, one that allowed us to see our entire route for the day - the Henry Mountains far to the north.

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Excited, we headed back to the trucks - eager to get off the highway and back onto dirt. More eager perhaps, than we should have been, it turned out! We made our way up the canyon to Boulder, where we stopped briefly to top off our gas tanks and pick up a few things at the attached surprisingly-well-stocked store. I forget exactly what all we picked up, but the store's selection of Newman's Own products was extensive - and Monte couldn't resist a few vanilla Oreo-style cookies.

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The Burr Trail splits off of highway 12 in Boulder - so after our quick pit stop, we were officially on our way - a sign alerting us to a 72-mile dirt road ahead. Score!

But then, as we continued on, pavement. Lots of pavement. I joked over the CB, "Perhaps the sign meant 72 miles to the dirt." There was no laughing. Of course, pavement is just a road covering and though not our favorite covering, it didn't do anything to detract from what we'd consider the main attraction - the views down into Long Canyon beckoning us in.

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Long Canyon is a special place to say the least. It's dramatic walls rise high over the roadway, the reddish-orange sandstone brilliantly reflecting the sun into the canyon, casting a warm glow on everything around. Contrasted with the deep blue of the sky, it felt like we'd stepped into a different world, the rules of color different than our own.

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From towering walls, the road continued to wind up the canyon - the walls turning to needles and hoodoos, reminiscent of those we've experienced elsewhere in Utah, most recently for me in The Maze, and reminding me that a trip to the Needles District in Canyonlands National Park needs to happen in the near future.

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Our progress through this wonderland slow (as usual), it was already early afternoon, we were still on pavement, and we hadn't eaten lunch - so when we came to a pass at the top of the canyon, it was the perfect place to stop and enjoy a sandwich, overlooking Capitol Reef National Park stretching across the landscape, our destination - the Henry Mountains - still far off on the horizon.

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With lunch complete and our bellies satisfied, it was time to get some serious miles behind us. Headed down the pass, we finally got what we'd been craving since heading out on the Burr Trail - dirt, and a sign telling us we had 12 miles to Capitol Reef and some 50 miles to our destination. Not too bad, if we could keep the wheels spinning. Already aired down, we were ready to go!

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The roads on this section of trail were in relatively good shape, with a few exceptions. Actually, it was really just one exception - the wash that wound its way back and forth across the road. Of course, that was just fine with us - getting flexy one of the things we endlessly enjoy.

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We continued on, making our way to Capitol Reef National Park - the borders of the park undefined all these miles away from civilization, us the only adventurers making our way across the landscape.

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Around the mesas we traveled, each view seemingly more dramatic than the last. We stopped often, but none of us more frequently than Monte - the blazing sun and bright landscape resulting in plenty of opportunities to practice his nearly-patented photo pivot.

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Pivot complete and photo captured, Monte would speed off again - another opportunity surely just around the next bend.

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By mid-afternoon, many of the miles we'd wanted to travel were somehow behind us - a testament to Mike who kept us moving despite our best efforts to essentially walk the trail, cameras in hand. It's not that we'd reached the Henry Mountains per-se, but they were definitely closer, and they framed a varied landscape that was nothing short of splendiferous.

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Usually good about staying to the side of the road when we were out and about, it was more than we could resist in this instance and we lined up for a shot - no better sight really than three first gen Tacoma's lined up in a row.

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As one might suspect, the one time we did this the entire trip, a Jeep approached us from the oncoming direction, so we quickly scattered to unblock the road. As Monte and Mike continued on, I had a quick chat - the Jeeper curious about our tents, apparently his son working in Bend, OR - for @cascadia tents, perhaps?

Before long, we hit a stretch of the Burr Trail that I'd been looking forward to all day - the switchbacks. Hot off a couple recent adventures featuring some steep and narrow switchbacks, I was hoping for more of the same as we descended these - the route looking promising on he map.

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As we crested the top of the hill, the switchbacks unfolded before us. The road was wide and well-graded, these switchbacks nothing like what we'd built up in our minds; there was no adrenaline rush here. Of course, they were still a dramatic feature of the landscape, as the trail wound its way down the rocky mountainside - dropping 700 feet in a little over a mile. I can only imagine how difficult this route must have been for its original travelers - late 19th century cattlemen moving their herds between winter and summer ranges.

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The going easy, we enjoyed ourselves down the mountain, stopping frequently to capture the looming rock formations - oranges and yellows once again captured in a sea of blue.

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And then, a change of scenery. The Burr Trail continued south at this point to Bullfrog, a town we'd visit later on the trip - but we were headed east, towards the Henry Mountains - now seemingly so close we could touch them.

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Our path to the Henry's was dramatic to say the least. From a distance, the badlands looked like a barren wasteland - not a piece of vegetation around, the layers of land eroding into a rainbow of rock.

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These mountains, with their eroding ridges, stretched across the landscape - rearing up out of the badlands only to be washed down around their edges by time. Each one different than the next, perhaps the most striking to me was one that was almost entirely black - the orange and yellow top having eroded into history.

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As we took in the sights, our shadows lengthened - the sun began it's nightly retreat in the west, nature's hint that we needed to find a place we could call home for the evening.

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Keen to find a place that would provide a good view and less mud than the badlands in the case of rain, we were glad to see that the last of the badland ridges were passing to our rear, and we could see the road head up the southern most edge of the Henry Mountains, an area sure to provide a bit more shelter.

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Just before the ascent, Monte came over the CB radio, "Ouch! That was deeper than I thought." and his door opened. We'd been through many washes over the course of the trip, but this one had caught him off-guard. Underwater, hard to see, and after a long day of driving, his bumper was on the ground and his passenger front was going nowhere.

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Nothing was broken - he'd been going slow - and traction on the other three tires was good, so it was a simple matter to back out and pick a new line... but it's a good reminder that anything can happen at any time on one of these trips - staying alert to conditions our best defense.

Minutes later we arrived at what we'd call camp for the night - a saddle between the Henry Mountains to the north and the Little Rockies to the south.

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We passed by initially - Mike with a feeling that we might be too exposed in this spot. However, the views were amazing in all directions and our search for something nearby that was less exposed was unsuccessful, so we headed back to choose our positions in camp - after-all we thought - a little breeze will just help to keep the tents dry.

Even before we could start deploying the tents, the long rays of the evening sun started their magic dance across the landscape; different camera exposures capturing individual aspects of the dance, but none able to capture it in it's entirety.

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Knowing that the next half hour could be special, we put down our cameras and quickly setup the tents - both so we could capture them in the moment and because we'd learned that daylight setup while not strictly necessary is definitely more convenient. The wind was starting to pick up at this point, and so measures were also taken to secure tents more firmly to the ground.

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And then, finally, the sun poked under the clouds on the horizon. That special moment we'd been waiting for was here - but only for a few seconds. The blues in the sky turned to pinks and purples; the trucks, then mountains, then clouds basking in the last of the evening's light.

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Would we - could we - capture the moment?

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In the end, I'm sure we got some but not all of the beauty bestowed upon us that evening. For sure, we all enjoyed it - and in the end, I think we all put our cameras down - we'd captured what we could and we just wanted to soak the rest in.

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As we gathered around the camp fire, we huddled close - the wind no longer a breeze through our camp but cold gusts unconstrained by any windbreak, funneled through the saddle that was our camp. A warm dinner and Newman's Own cookies of course helped our spirits, but by 10:30pm we were once again chilled to the bone and retreated to our tents.

Before climbing up, I got on the ham radio - our position one I could tell would have good range to faraway repeaters - and messaged @mrs.turbodb using APRS (which can send/receive text message over ham radio frequencies) and we had a fun chat for a while before I finally decided to call it a night.

As I climbed into the tent, the fabric buffeting around me, little did I know what was in store over the next 8 hours. If I had known - in fact, if any of us had known - I'm not sure we'd have decided to stay in that camp through the night.

But as it was, we stayed...

 

Little Serrias

Your califorina roots are showing

Its the little Rockies.

Also you have damn near mastered the sunset/rise photos man. Great colors and exposures.

 

Like Dan @drr suggested, I'm using OEM seats with Wet Okele covers. Honestly, I don't love them and have thought about changing them, but haven't ever gotten around to it. And, in reality, the seats never bother me when we're actually on a trip. We are in and out of the trucks so often that my back never really gets sore at all, since it's constantly moving around. Now, the 18-hours driving to wherever the trip is...that is when I sometimes wish I had different seats.

hahahahahaha, that's funny. Thanks for the correction! I feel like I have to leave it wrong now so folks will understand your comment.

Was a beautiful (ly colored) evening, that's for sure. Looks so peaceful in the photos...a bit misleading actually .

 

No kidding. I browsed through mine a day or so ago. I have a photo I did on Mikes truck at 2.5 sec exposure and the tent tarp is blur

Freaking wind man..haha

 

Does this trip ever end? I thought you were done with trips and the trip you were on ended like two or three ago. But the journey continues Great as Always and enjoyable. I feel like I have visited the Grand Canyon.

 

Looks like an awesome section of the trip. Your report makes me really hope I'll be able to do this in May like I plan!

 

This is a different one. We did two this year only a month apart haha

This one is long though. About half way through

 

Glad you're enjoying.

As Monte mentioned, there were two big - two-week long - trips this year - the first one (The Re-Tour) to Montana and Wyoming, and then this one (F.U.Rain) was just a few weeks later to Arizona and Utah. Was a crazy fall for sure, but tons of fun!

Oh, you'll love it. May might be a bit early from a snow perspective for some of this, but I bet you'll be able to hit a lot of it. I think parts of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon don't open until sometime in May, so just be aware of that! And post a trip report!!!

 

Today’s section of your report (as well as possibly your next couple of chapters) is also part of the Southern Utah Traverse that I’ll be doing near the end of May, but we won’t be going through North Rim.

If there’s any sort of trip report from me it’ll be minimal at best. I seem to have a terrible memory regarding the timelines as well as never have enough pictures. Always too worried I’ll inconvenience the people I’m with if I stop every 30 minutes

 

Thanks!

Ahh, nice! Well, there were some high bits in this part of the trip as well (one day over 8000', another over 9500'), so as I'm sure you're already doing, keep an eye out for snow closures. Would still be fun even with some of the white stuff though, I bet - it was for us when we finally hit it!

 

Thanks for the feedback on the seats. I've got wet Okele covers on my stock 96 seats and just the daily commute hurts my back. It's definitely the seat because I don't get the pain when I commute with my car. I've got some bmw seats to install once i figure out the wiring.

It's probably just be me since you guys don't really have a problem with it.

 

I come here every day reading the trip reports as an escape from my windowless office. If you don't mind me asking, what camera(s) are you using for your trips? the best I have is an iphone X, but i'm looking at DSLRs to start, and I might move on to a mirrorless camera if I get super into it.

 

F.U.Rain Day 12 - Walloped by Wind, We Head to Bears Ears
October 10, 2018.

I'd gone to sleep with all the tent windows and doors tightly zipped closed and earplugs in - to protect me from the wind raging through our camp. I've been in windy conditions before - in fact, our night at Point Sublime just a week before was a pretty windy affair - so I wasn't all that concerned - in fact, the wind rocked me to sleep a bit as the tent and truck flexed under its force.

But then, at 3:30am I was awoken by a whole new sensation - my tent was trying to kill me. I quickly realized that the wind was the real culprit - so strong that it had lifted the fold-out portion of the tent off the ground, even as I lay on it, attempting to close it up with me inside. And then it did it again.

This couldn't be good for my tent I thought as I put on my clothes - convinced that the right thing to do was to close everything up and spend the rest of the night in the cab. As I unzipped the door, a blast of wet wind tore into the tent - that's right, it was so windy I couldn't hear that it was also raining!

That put a quick end to my previous idea, and instead I hurried back under the covers and spent the next several minutes evaluating the structure of the tent as it flexed wildly in the wind. Though it sounded terrible, it looked OK - a testament to CVT's (@cascadia tents) quality so I eventually put my earplugs back in and tried to go back to sleep - the truck now bucking haphazardly rather than rocking gently on its suspension.

Eventually the rain must have stopped, but the wind never did. I'd set my alarm for sunrise in the hope that the wind would clear out any cloud cover, and sure enough it mostly had! It was a beautiful morning, the last remaining clouds already past us and moving further south.

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After a few photos and a bit of procrastination under the warm comforter, I finally pulled myself out into the wind just as the sun was peaking over the horizon and lighting the Henry Mountains behind camp. We might have had a rough night, but we definitely knew how to pick dramatic sites!

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For the next little bit, the sun climbed higher in the sky and I enjoyed every minute of it. Eventually, it was up and over the remaining clouds, and camp was fully illuminated.

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And that's when I noticed that I hadn't had the worst night of the group. Mike @Digiratus had. Or at least, his tent had - one of the poles blown out of it's anchor and haphazardly wedged under his rain fly.

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By this time, Mike and Monte @Blackdawg were getting up as well and as we fixed the pole in Mike's tent, we all had a good - dare I say nervous - laugh about the weather we'd experienced the night before. Needless to say, we were all keen to find a place a little more sheltered for the remainder of the trip.

But everything was OK, the tents were dry, and the sun was out - so we enthusiastically completed our morning routines and got on the road just after 10:15am as we watched a second gen Tacoma drive by, headed west - like us.

We didn't get far before encountering the remains of the Starr Ranch. Selected as the headquarters for his mining operations in the 1880's, Al Starr hired a builder to construct the home and cellar. Neither was completed however - drought and loco weed killing most of Starr's horses before any ore was produced.

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Surprised the second gen Tacoma hadn't stopped as well, we figured we weren't going to see it all day as we pulled back onto the trail towards Utah 95 and Hite, the snow-capped Henry Mountains still dramatic as we skirted around their base.

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Enjoying ourselves in the beautiful morning, it wasn't long before we hit one of the prettiest stretches of Utah 95 that I've driven. West of Canyonlands National Park, and south of the Poison Springs Road trail that I'd run with Ben @m3bassman and Zane @Speedytech7 earlier in the year, it cascaded down through the canyon towards Hite, UT. Still aired down, we struck a leisurely pace.

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We eventually found ourselves at the Hite Overlook where we opted for the short stroll from the parking lot to the overlook proper. As we did, the Colorado River peaked out far below - the water level some 70 feet lower than it's been in the past, rendering the Hite boat launch unusable.

The views though, were as usable as ever.

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We headed out as a 3rd gen Tacoma pulled in, ready for the Ultimate Expo Adventure™, his custom plate, Yakima tent, and nerf bars up for the worst nature could throw at him.

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As we descended from the overlook towards the Hite Crossing Bridge, we made one last pit stop - a bathroom break for Mike, and an opportunity to explore the landing strip for Monte and I. This had to be quite the runway to use for take-offs and landings - the runway itself narrow and wavy. Not to mention the 1000-foot sheer wall at one end, and the 1000-foot drop at the other.

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Wondering how often it was used, we climbed back into the trucks for the last quarter-mile to the bridge where we'd meet up with Mike for the final few miles into Hite. Of course, at the bridge we spent a bit of time exploring as well - the metal I-beams beckoning, rocks begging to be thrown into the abyss - a long 8 seconds down to the Colorado River below.

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Ready for lunch, we crossed the bridge wishing - as we had many times earlier in the trip - that we had a drone in follow-mode to catch our caravan. We were quite the sight, I'm sure - three bad-ass rigs in the noon-day sun, headed to the end of the road in Hite.

And so it was that as we made our way the last mile or two, we noticed a hitchhiker on the side of the road, headed the same direction. Our cabs full, we still wanted to give him a lift, so Monte told him to hop on to his rear bumper and hang on!

Dude was totally cool with that, and had a blast. Thumbs up and hang loose gestures frequent as we drove into town.

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Gas anyone? Still probably a better deal than the 12 oz, 3-year-old mayo that Monte bought for $5.95.

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At Hite, we enjoyed our lunch on a picnic table at the tail end of the boat launch ramp; the sun shining down as though it hadn't rained in months. Oh, and according to our maps, we were enjoying our lunch in Lake Powell.

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A leisurely lunch behind us, we headed back up the boat ramp - our trucks having performed flawlessly under the 50-feet of water indicated on our tablets. That was good, because they had an important place to take us - Bears Ears National Monument - a location we wanted to visit in its current form, before any reductions have time to affect the land (Wikipedia). From Hite we were almost immediately on dirt, the Henry Mountains still a reminder in the distance.

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Along our route, Monte had noticed a horseshoe bend in the Colorado River and marked it on our maps. We had no idea if there'd be an access road or not, so we were excited when one presented itself, even if there was a half-mile hike at the end in order to see the large meander - Mike taking in the sight from the top of the butte behind us.

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Side excursion complete, nothing stood between us and Bears Ears at that point, and we made good time on dry, well graded roads. We could tell however that they hadn't been dry for long, and that they'd have been a royal pain in our rear if we'd hit them on a muddy day.

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And then, completely unexpectedly, we ran into trouble. It wasn't our own trouble, but someone else's. And it'd happened three days before, when the roads weren't dry and the traction had been bad. P-rated (passenger vehicle) road tires hadn't helped. This Chevy Colorado had definitely seen better days.

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We wished the owner had been around - it would have been a quick job for us to winch the Colorado out, but the three day old note that "this car is not abandoned" made it unlikely that we'd pass them on the road to offer help. Instead, we carried on - up into the mountains, leaving the canyon below.

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And as we gained elevation, we got a taste of what the Colorado had experienced just those few days before. It was wet and muddy and sticky. Even for us, it wasn't all that fun - the mud caking our trucks from tip to tail.

Say it with me now, "F*ck you rain."

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But the elevation and mud meant we were nearing the summit of our trip, and as we turned a corner we stumbled upon a sign alerting us to our location - much more unassuming than we'd have expected.

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From our current location, the Bears Ears buttes for which the monument was named weren't really all that dramatic, "underwhelming" Mike would later say (though we were all happy to have visited). So we continued on, snapping a few photos as we pulled away - eventually getting to a point where we could see the two ears in a single shot.

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And it was then that a decision to make - we could either look for camp, or we could make a push to see Natural Bridges National Monument, just 20 minutes or so away. It was nearing 5:00pm by that time, so as you might imagine, one of us wanted to get to camp and the other two were keen to have a look.

Somewhat reluctantly (and he was probably right), Mike gave in and we headed over to the nearby monument. We didn't really have enough time to do it justice - no hikes to the bridges, and no real exploration of the area - so it's a place still on our "we need to come back" lists.

Still, even from a distance the Natural Bridges were cool - by far the largest I'd ever seen at over 268 feet wide and 220 feet tall.

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Light clearly waning at this point, we pressed our skinny pedals looking for a camp site. We knew there was rain coming overnight so we wanted something that would keep us from getting too muddy and would protect us from any wind a bit more than the saddle we'd found ourselves at the night before.

Eventually we found ourselves winding up the edge of a small rocky canyon off of Utah 95 - obviously part of the same formation that made up Natural Bridges. That was good in our minds, since the rocky ground would shed water rather than turning to mud. Plus, who can complain about a canyon out the tent window?

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We all settled our trucks, tent ladders and tailgates strategically positioned on the rocks and set about our evening routines - camp setup, photos, campfire - now well-oiled into our bodies after nearly two weeks on the trail.

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The sun already below the horizon, the clouds started to move in, highlighted by the last rays of light; broad brush strokes across the previously clear sky. A bit of chill was also in the air, the season clearly changing to late fall throughout our trip.

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On the dinner menu that evening was cheese tortellini with a sausage meat sauce, eaten around the fire to keep warm. We chatted into the night about what we'd seen that day - so much ground covered really - and what our plan for the next day would be. With rain in the forecast we knew that it could be a slog if we attempted something similar to our 10-hour, 35-mile run from the Grand Bench to Left Hand Collet Canyon, but at the same time we had a desire for dirt and the cool sights to which it would lead.

In the end - brought on by the start of the rain at 11:00pm - we decided that we'd wait and see what the weather had in store for us overnight. In the morning, we'd re-evaluate and hopefully aim for some dirt if the mud situation was manageable.

As we climbed into our tents to the pitter-patter of drops on the tops of our tents, we were all glad for our rock islands, but the general consensus was still, for good reason, "F*ck you, rain."

 

Spectacular, too bad the Chevy driver wasn't around. That might have broken up the day. One question how and when would you guys clean you truck I realize that it is worn like a badge of honor but.

 

we could see the chevys tracks the whole way out really. Was shitty. Wish we had found them as im sure a tow rig isn't cheap to get there. Was the middle of nowhere.

We don't typically wash till we get home. Only on the DeTour have we ever washed our trucks mid trip...twice. Due to the horrid mud. This trip wasn't too bad...but after the detour nothing seems bad.

 

yea that was mud

 

Somehow you managed to outdo yourself yet again on the quality of photos here! Great job. Would be interested after your wrap up your trip report if you'd give some insight on your post processing routine. Still can't get over how great your color processing is with those greens and blues.