Previously in Almost Stranded...
It was - as we were contemplating camp, and headed through the grove of pinyon pine at the top of Pleasant Canyon - that I initially heard a clunking sound. To me, it sounded like it was coming from the front of the truck, as though something was dropping down and hitting the skid plate as the suspension flexed over the undulations of the road.
Such a change of landscape from earlier in the day - I counted on these trees providing us a bit of shelter from the gusty winds.
Getting out to inspect the situation, my initial investigation included kicking the front skid plate in several places to ensure that it was still tightly secured (I've had issues with bolts backing out in the past), checking to ensure that the bolts securing the front diff - the only thing I could imagine dropping onto the skid plate - was secure, and using a flashlight to verify that there was nothing else hanging down and causing problems - there wasn't.
Out of an abundance of caution, I wandered toward the back of the truck to check things out. The sound - I was sure - was coming from the front, but better safe than sorry in a situation like this.
And then, I saw it - as I was checking the bolts for the rear shocks, my eyes wandered just a little further forward - the driver side main leaf was busted!
Not good. Not good at all.
I knew immediately that this could spell some serious trouble. Capital "T" type of trouble.
You see, back in October, when I'd unexpectedly reached the top of Mt. Patterson, the half-leaf military wrap - which helps to support the main leaf - had broken. Hoping to replace the leaf pack at the same time I swapped out the rear axle housing (which I'd patched just before heading out to Mt. Patterson), I'd been running without the insurance policy of that extra half-leaf.
And now, it'd come back to bite me.
I explained the situation to @mrs.turbodb - that our trip was over and we were now in jerry-rig-and-limp mode - and then carefully picked my way a quarter mile down the trail to the Pine Tree (Rita's) Cabin, where I knew there was level ground and that we could spend the night. That quarter mile was one of the most tense stretches I've ever driven - the knowledge that only gravity and friction were keeping the axle from pivoting out from the back of the truck, resulting in a situation that would be nearly impossible to recover from without significant help.
Rolling into camp about 10 minutes before sunset, I slid under the truck to better evaluate the situation. I could see that we were even luckier than I'd originally realized. The main leaf spring, which wanted to "fall down" at the front eye, was trapped by the a bolt that secured the clamp at the front of the pack. This was a bolt that I'd had to back out in order to remove the broken military wrap leaf several months before, and I'd not been able to get the nut threaded back on when I was done. At the time, I'd hoped to remove the bolt entirely, but in trying to do so, it was too close to the gas tank, and couldn't be backed out all the way. So I'd just left it. Now, this partially secured bolt was the only thing keeping the truck on four wheels!
Unlucky. But at the same time, *so lucky*.
The first order of business, then, was to take the weight off of the leaf pack by using the hi-lift to raise the rear end of the truck just enough to slide the old bolt out and a new one - pillaged from another location - into position. Naturally, I forgot to photograph this at all.
Then, I realized, the next most important thing was to keep the axle in position relative to the rest of the frame and driveline. This I did with a ratchet strap - one end looped through the hanger at the front of the leaf pack, the other looped around the rear axle housing. Snugged up as tight as I could get it, I hoped that it would hold long enough to get us down the mountain and to a place where we could call a flat bed tow truck, or even better, get ourselves - slowly - to a location where I could rent a trailer to haul the Tacoma home.
With very careful driving, and constant checking, I hoped that a ratchet strap would be our savior.
I also considered a ratchet strap around the leaf pack, to try and hold the back end of the broken main leaf down to the rest of the pack. In the end, I decided against this for a couple of reasons: first, I didn't know that it would do a lot of good, since the vertical forces at play as the leaf pack flexed were probably quite large. More importantly, I realized that there was no length - across the pack or along the side - where there was enough room for the ratchet strap to ratchet, or for the hooks to hook. And so, a single strap - looped twice around - would have to suffice.
By this point it was dark. There was nothing more to do but eat a quick dinner - I wasn't hungry - and climb into bed. So, that's what we did.
The Next Morning
Our location - nestled into the pinyon pines - was perfect to keep us sheltered from the wind. At 6,400 feet, it was chilly - in the high 20s °F, but our down comforters kept us plenty warm. Still, I have to admit that I didn't sleep all that well, and the next morning I wasn't really in the mood to get up and take the sunrise photos that I so often enjoy. As such, it was just as the sun hit the tent that we finally climbed out of the tent, not really sure what the day would hold.
A late morning (for us), at a camp site that couldn't really have been more perfect for the situation we found ourselves in.
As @mrs.turbodb rounded up breakfast, I - and then we - took a few minutes to look around the Pine Tree Cabin. Built in 1971 by the Bearcroft family - who lived here while mining nearby claims - we'd foregone any sort of exploration the previous evening, given our focus at the time. Poking around in the morning light was probably better for photos anyway!
Outside the cabin, we found another mobile pump/compressor sled/trailer. It got me wondering if the same folks who worked the mines in South Park were the same that mined here. At the very least, the two camps likely talked to one another!
The Pine Tree Cabin is a simple affair, that I expected to be just a shell like the other cabins we'd found at the top of South Park the previous day.
Inside the cabin, it was clear that this was - likely - once a well-maintained cabin like those at Briggs Camp. Unfortunately, over the years, people wrote on the walls, left doors and windows open to rodents, and the cabin fell into disrepair.
A still-barely-serviceable wood stove, which I was hoping to find a "Maddog" signature on - as I've found several others in the Panamint Valley area with that signature - but I did not.
The guest book was waterlogged and bore the name "Rita's," rather than "Pine Tree." I think it'd be interesting to know the history of the cabin and its naming.
It was a little after 9:30am when we rolled slowly out of camp. I'd inspected and tightened the ratchet strap one final time, and I put the Tacoma in 4Lo, expecting that our average moving speed wouldn't be more than 5-6mph as we gingerly made our way down Pleasant Canyon toward Ballarat - where we could at least get a tow truck, if necessary. And I'd fired off the only non-preset message I've ever sent on my Garmin InReach Mini.
With only 160 available characters, I tried to make my 158 count.
A beautiful day that we would not fully enjoy.
As we inched our way down the road, I mentioned to @mrs.turbodb how this would be my third attempt at exploring the loop, and I still wouldn't have gotten to wind my way up the spur roads to the Cooper, Porter, and Ratcliff Mines. Just a good reason to return, she reminded me. At any rate, we decided that as we made our way down, we'd at least stop to enjoy the sites that were along the main road - we were, after all, already here and still had several days before we needed to be home!
At the fork to the Cooper Mine, an old boiler and the remains of the stamp mill - erected by James Cooper in 1897 - once processed ore from the mine's shaft and half a dozen tunnels that were first exploited for gold in 1896.
The ruins of Cooper's small, four-stamp mill. Only three of the stamps still remained on site.
A little further down the road, a burst water pipe gave an indication to the nighttime temperatures. Apparently, it was chilly.
One of the reasons I'd chosen to run the South Park - Pleasant Canyon loop in the direction we had was so that I could enjoy new views compared to those I'd seen on my first trip to this region. As it turns out, having the easier Pleasant Canyon trail as our route out also turned out to be hugely beneficial.
The views down Pleasant Canyon towards Panamint Valley did not disappoint.
Soon we came upon the World Beater Mine Cabin, which - like all the habitable cabins on this loop - had a flag flying proudly to indication that it was occupied, even mid-week.
From the World Beater Mine, it's only another mile to the largest mine site in the region - the Ratcliff Mine and the sprawling Claire Camp in the canyon below. As we pulled into the camp, @mrs.turbodb commented on an old stone chimney standing alone in the middle of the canyon. Something was off.
All that remains of the Claire Camp cabin.
It took me a couple seconds, but I quickly realized that what we were seeing was a cleaned-up version of the Claire Camp that had existed just a couple months earlier when I'd first driven through the canyon. Then, we'd run into a few guys at the site who we'd assumed were miners, and I'd gotten out to ask if they mind us looking around the site. It was just fine with them, they'd said; they were contractors, working for the BLM to clean up the site, which had grown trashy over the years - old washing machines and refrigerators tempting targets for those who happened into town with a few too many beers under their belts.
The photo I'd taken of the Claire Camp cabin just 3 months earlier (December 2021); now gone.
Overall - for me - it was with mixed feelings that we wandered around the camp today. Much of what was gone was trash - old appliances, bottles and cans, litter from visitors who should have known better. Still, some of what was missing was "the good stuff" - historical structures and bits of machinery that helped to tell the story of the Ratcliff Mine and one of the largest mining camps in the area.
Luckily, some of the major structures do still remain. The most elaborate of these - the mill - is located on the south side of the road and climbs more than 50 feet up the side of the hill. The partitioned ore bin above it is the lower terminal of a historic tramway, the cables pointing to the distant tailings of the Ratcliff Mine, 1,800 feet up the mountain.
The mill itself has several crushers, each one meant to grind the ore to finer material than the one before it. Powered by a steam engine via the enormous cogwheels next to it, the boilers for the steam powerplant sit several feet away, the brick structure that once supported them, succumbing to time.
The lower levels of the mill.
One of the cogwheels that would be turned by belts powered by the nearby boilers.
One of two monstrous boilers to power the mill.
Once the ore was pulverized, it was moved - via two large loading ramps - a few dozen feet down canyon to a cyanide plant, where the ore was mixed with a cyanide solution to extract the gold.
Loading ramps, and the 12-foot tall, steel cyanide vat.
An old dump truck that once carried ore from the mine, now blocking the wash until the next major flood.
There are three dugouts in the area; they are likely the oldest structures in camp, dating to the mid 1800s.
Our exploration of Claire Camp complete, we took the arrival of four Jeepers - arriving from Ballarat below - as our cue to continue on our way. We had a couple more stops to make - including one where I'd hoped to hike up a steep canyon wall to a working high on the north side - but with any luck, we'd soon find ourselves out of the worst of the trouble, and able to evaluate our next move.
With every turn in the road, the Panamint Valley got closer and closer. I'd reset my odometer several times as we passed known waypoints, and at this point we had just over six miles to "salvation."
The geology here - while not as spectacular as in South Park - was nothing to scoff at!
The workings I'd hoped to climb to - some 1,500 feet up a nearly vertical scree field. I don't know if it would have been achievable, but I'll definitely be back to give it a try!
For anyone who's visited Pleasant Canyon in the last several years - or perhaps several decades - it's at about this point in the canyon that a bright yellow grader has decorated the road. Used to grade the road to the Ratcliff Mine and Claire Camp, I'm sorry to say that the grader is no longer parked on the side of the road - some broken glass and an oil spill, the only indications of its presence.
Winding our way through the short narrows.
The final push - or coast, rather - as Pleasant Canyon opens up to Panamint Valley.
In the distance, Ballarat. We'd made it! We weren't totally out of trouble, but at least we'd stand a better chance of success, having reached semi-civilization!
Ballarat was a bustling place at 11:00am on a Friday morning, and we slowly rolled through "town," as we made our way across the salt flats on a road that we'd travelled a mere 27 hours earlier, no idea what lay ahead. A few miles later, we stopped the Tacoma at Panamint Valley road - pavement as it were - to air up and evaluate the situation. If things still looked reasonable with the ratchet strap, we'd decided that we'd make a push towards Bishop, where - hopefully - we could rent a truck and trailer to tow our adventuremobile home.
I never expected we'd be airing up so soon, or under these circumstances!
As we were airing up, and after I confirmed that the ratchet-strap-leaf-spring-axle-housing-contraption seemed to be doing its job splendidly, we were treated to an air show of F-18s as they repeatedly seemed to dive-bomb the radio tower we'd stopped at the day before.
Apologies, as usual, I've included a ton of aircraft photos, as I still get all excited when these things go rumbling by overhead.
Soon, we were headed west on CA-190, tentatively pushing the Tacoma to speeds around 50mph. After a few miles I checked the straps, then checked them again a few miles later. Both times, everything seemed to be as good as we could hope, so we made a final stop as we climbed out of Panamint Valley, the windless day offering some of the clearest views we've ever seen.
Oh, to have been able to explore on such a gorgeous day!
An hour later, we approached Lone Pine, the Sierra rising up in the windshield. With barely any snow, they too seemed to be making the best of a bad situation, rising high above the Alabama Hills in the foreground.
I never tire of this view.
Already at this point, we were on the phone trying to get a U-Haul truck and trailer. A little over an hour away - and in the direction of home - we figured that Bishop was our best bet. Unfortunately, though they had two car-haulers on the lot, both were spoken for and wouldn't be available for at least five more days. With not much choice, and after another inspection, we made the decision to carry on towards Reno.
The story in Reno was much the same as Bishop. Apparently, everyone and their brother had decided to move, and of course a weekend is the best time to do that (and not miss that pesky thing known as work). In the end, we talked to the national U-Haul line and found that the only truck-trailer combo was located in Quincy - another five hours further on, and about three hours out of our way.
We reserved it for the next day.
Ultimately though, as we passed through Reno - continuing to inspect our jerry-rigged axle-leaf-spring-strap situation every hour or so - we decided that if we'd made it this far, we could probably make it all the way home, and that continuing north through Susanville and Klamath Falls was probably going to be faster in the long run, if nothing catastrophic happened.
And so, at 11:00pm, we pulled into a BLM campground and called it a night. We'd pick up again at 7:00am the next morning, covering the remainder of the 1,000 mile journey at the mind numbing pace of 47 to 50mph in the next 14 hours.
On our way home, we must have seen 30 U-Hauls and 10 car haulers. Luckily, we didn't end up needing one.
In episode #1 I wondered about that bolt which would have worried me a LOT! When we broke a U-joint many years ago we were only a few miles from a paved road and had a 2nd truck so was able to get a new part in Barstow and go back to replace the broken joint. We always had enough tools for repairs. Too bad about that cabin being removed. USFS told me some years back that they see these old cabins as fire hazards to they usually raze them completely. Fortunately you made it home. Kinda surprised that you couldn't get some parts in Lone Pine or the other towns to make a more substantial repair (replace bolt or clamp things together) before hitting the highway. Those are the kinds of worries that keep us from venturing too far off of a good dirt road or highway! Hope you future tales are less stressful. Really enjoy hearing/seeing your travels.
That bolt that worried you was a lifesaver for me - as I mentioned above, it's what kept the pack from falling apart at the get go, whew! As for stopping in Bishop for repair parts - a clamp to hold the spring assembly together, for instance - looking back now, that would have been a good idea, but such a fix didn't occur to me at the time. I did consider getting the leaf welded, but the two welders I talked to discouraged me from doing that, and I also considered a new leaf spring at the Toyota dealer, but they didn't have any in stock. Since the fix had seemed to hold through both the rough terrain in Pleasant Canyon, as well as the two hours of highway driving to Bishop, we rolled the dice that it would continue to hold. We definitely came up all sevens on that one (though clearly not on the roll that got us to that point! ?)
The important thing is that you made it home OK and thank Heavens for that!
Sometimes it's amazing what you can get away with. And also that things aren't as bad as they may look at first. Those straps were a good idea and probably saved your ass. Reminds me of the time that Rick and I were hiking up in the Marble Mtns. Left my Jeep parked at the trailhead and never saw another soul for a week (can't do that anymore). When we got back we threw our packs into the Jeep, key into the ignition and...nothing. Darn. Popped the hood and saw that there were porcupine quills here and there in the engine compartment, and....lots chewed wires and hoses! Darn. OK, stripped and fixed wires, and used heater hoses to fix the water hoses. OK, turned the key and wha-la...ignition! Headed out down the hill, picked up speed and NO BRAKES!....SHIT! Double clutched it back into first, pulled as hard as I could on a worthless emergency brake and snuffed out the joint. Ripped along to the bottom of the hill, came to a stop and gave a sigh of relief. Got out and started checking the brake lines. The rear ones are metal, but the front are rubber. The left front had a nice big porcupine-chewed hole in it with brake fluid dripping out. Hmm, let me think...good thing I didn't have a chance to finish that joint. So, I ended up using some locking pliers on the hose to plug it up and dumped some engine oil in the brake fluid reservoir. We ended finishing a great trip which included running out of money and hiking in the Siskiyous. We traded a joint for a salmon with some native indians on the Klamath and used our last dollar to buy some milk at the store. We had saved just enough money to buy gas to get back to school at Davis. UJ
I love it! That's an awesome story, and the rodent-in-the-engine-compartment is one I've heard quite a bit. The rumor is, that leaving the hood up discourages that, but who knows? I know I rarely leave the hood up, and just hope to always have my wiring in the morning, hahaha!
Another thrilling epic.
Thanks Greg, thrilling is certainly an apt description of this adventure! Not for the normal reasons of course, hahahaha! The good news is that the truck is fixed, and performed splendidly on the subsequent adventure, so hopefully all the excitement for a while is in the sights!
I'm glad everything worked out!
I just added another rachet strap to my kit. After reading this adventure, 1 strap isn't enough...
I'm going to have to look at Pleasant Valley trip. It looks like I can go up the way you came out and get as far as the trees to camp. Would like to see the mines you showed.
Thanks again for another exciting adventure!!!
You're welcome - glad you enjoyed the story! ? The Pleasant Canyon area is a beautiful place, and one that you'd likely enjoy. The trip up and back through Pleasant Canyon isn't a difficult one, all the way to Rogers Pass. Really, even the trail(s) over to South Park aren't difficult, so you could explore that area as well, just looping back to Pleasant Canyon when you want to descend back into Panamint Valley. I wholeheartedly recommend this book as a great guide to the area: Hiking Western Death Valley National Park. And to get full park coverage, you can also pick up Hiking Death Valley National Park.
I know being stranded is stressful, but I admit I do enjoy reading about how people figure things out, what they do to cope with the situation when are forced to improvise and use what they have to solve their predicament and self-rescue to safety. In your case, amazingly, you made it all the way home with your jerry-rigged solution. Nicely done!
Maybe you should come up with a list of things to carry with you for jerry-rigged repairs when in the outback far from parts stores. I have my own list. The rachet strap worked surprisingly well in that situation. Short of having the replacement bolt itself, what else were you hunting for, wishing you had?
Thanks Mark! The funny thing is, I had the ratchet straps exactly for jerry-rigged situations like this. That said, thinking through a list of other possible things is certainly a good idea. The bolt wasn't actually the problem - while it helped to retain the broken leaf, I was able to scrounge a duplicate from the leaf pack on the opposite side of the truck (probably not well described, and definitely not photographed) so that became a non-issue. The problem of course was my inability to keep the top leaf "seated" to the rest of the leaf pack.
I think a solution like this - the plates and bolts sandwiching the pack - will be something that I add to my kit for the future. I probably won't go as far as the chain, since I don't have a great way to tighten it, and generally try to keep the weight down.
Yeah, good idea on a plate/bolt sandwich pack. Would be pretty small to carry. It is always a tradeoff between size/weight and pain/stress/recovery cost when making the calculation on which spare parts to carry. Hard to know what to carry. Ratchet straps are easy to carry, versatile, reasonably strong, so a no-brainer there. Lengths of chain? I don't know. extra bolts and pre-drilled steel plates, maybe. An extra starter and alternator bracket? A good idea. I learned that the hard way when my alternator bracket sheared in two from the stresses of offroad travel. Wish I would have had a spare. It would have been nothing to carry one size and weight-wise, so now I carry an spare. I'm always thinking about this tradeoff though, of which spare parts (and items for jerry-rigging) to carry.
I shared Part 1 of your story with fellow members of my Jeep Club because we have explored these same roads many times. We even helped install new cabinets in one of the cabins during one trip. I own a Tacoma, also, and have driven it all through this area more than once but -- fortunately -- never suffered a breakdown. I also own a Jeep and have yet to take it to Ballarat but am looking forward to doing so, hopefully next Winter. I am very upset to hear that the BLM, et. al. are tearing down those historical remnants of a by-gone era. This should be made a criminal offense. I tend to carry a lot of recovery equipment and I have an entire tote box devoted to spare parts. Oddly, I have not included any rachet straps up to this point -- an oversight your story has brought to my attention. They are now on my shopping list. This was a great story, well told. Thank you for sharing.
Glad you enjoyed the story, and I love hearing that you guys are doing work to help keep the cabins in good shape up there! As for Claire Camp and the cleanup - they are definitely a mixed bag. On the one hand, I understand the govts position - a liability one at the very least, and a public health and safety one as well. Unfortunately, I think that what ends up happening more often than not is that a site that is perfectly "reasonable" and should just be left alone, ends up getting trashed by people who just aren't very respectful - of the history of the location, or of the other people who want to visit and find the area in good shape.
From that, trash begets trash, bullet holes more bullets, and general destruction, more of the same. At some point, the place starts looking like total shit, rather than like the historic site that it actually is/was.
In those cases - and Claire Camp was getting to that point, since it's relatively easily accessible - a cleanup like the one that happened actually restores the place a little bit, since a lot of what is cleaned up is the detritus of modern man. Of course, some cool old stuff gets removed in the process (and certainly did at Claire), but it's a balancing act IMO.
A better solution - though even it doesn't carry forward the historical aspects - is to have a "Friends of..." that helps to keep a place clean and tidy enough that people never start trashing it. That's a compromise too though; Briggs Camp isn't all that "original," as an example, but it's certainly nicer than Claire Camp.
The only thing that really protects a place is when it's a strenuous hike to get there. Ideally far enough that it's an overnight visit. I find that the folks that visit those places generally have the correct mindset!
Stay safe and HAVE FUN out there! ?
Awe bummer man! I just did 5 days out there in my ford raptor. Had to winch in the waterfall in Steele Pass. 4wd started making noises on lippincot so ended up driving it mostly in 2wd that road was nerve racking not having a passenger. did the toursist stuff in badwater then headed to titus then over to warm springs and mengle pass. wish i had time for heading up into pleasant canyon. Glad you made it home was wondering if i would run into you down there haha. Im in Reno if you ever need a hand or place to wrench.
Sounds like a great time out there, minus the 4wd issues. Hope those worked out for you! Would be fun to run into you in the park sometime for sure, and thanks for the wrenching offer in Reno! ?
That almost bought tears to my eyes. I love that area so much. Probably did it 5 or six times. I wish they would just leave those artifacts alone. I remember when everything was standing in Clair camp including the two small house trailers overlocking the lower canyon. I got a nice sunset view from that very spot on the pad where those trailers were. Now I'm going have to dig threw my files for those pictures. I know that orange grader your talking about. I first came up on that thing in the middle of the night, scared the shit out of me. I (And Mr. Taco) climbed Pleasant Canyon at night to get to Manley peak to get sunset pictures of Butte Valley. It was windy, cold, and there was snow on the ground, didn't care I was pumped for the those specular views. Going through the pine trees at the top was eventful in the dark. Hit the Rogers Pass sign at sun-up got a picture with my head lights on the sign with the Sunset right behind it. Awesome stuff. It was like it was meant to be. High sided the Tacoma in a serious rut coming out of Mid Park Canyon. Left side wheels were off the ground. All I had was a Machete. I cut the ridge of the rut down about a foot, maybe 50 feet long in front of the truck. Jumped in and gave her the gas and she jumped right out of that rut. I sat down next to the truck and had a beer. I still can't believe I got it out. It would have cost thousands for help winching me out. A hard lesson to learn. Picks and shovels are required equipment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fD4OjK-cKA4
Yeah, it was quite sad to see the camp after the cleanup, though having seen it just a couple months earlier when it was in a serious state of disrepair, I can understand why they did the work that they did - it was a complete mess from visitors who didn't have any respect for the history/artifacts that were there.
In cleaning up, I was glad to see that they'd left the mill and some of its supporting equipment - to the extent they could, anyway - and the house chimney/foundation. It shows that the BLM does recognize the importance of the site, and they were really just working to get it into a state where people would stop dumping their trash and shooting it up.
Those people are the ones whose behavior is unacceptable. I don't know how to change a mindset like that, but we'd end up with a much nicer earth if we could!
Your Rogers Pass video was fantastic - those are some amazing shots you got, and makes me want to head back up there again! I recognized all of it, except for the shot at 6:22. Could have just been the perspective or angle, but I'd be curious to know where that was.
The real beef I have with those morons that shoot everything up is,,,if they left it all alone most everything would still be semi pristine condition. Look at the Geo Cabin in Butte Valley and Emmitt Harder's alloy cabin in Woods canyon. Share the love for Christ sake. Anyhow that pic at 6:22...When your coming out of the massive 0vergroth close to the bottom of Pleasent Canyon maybe a mile or two past the former orange grader location, there is a split in the road. The one to the right goes up a massive incline and back down to Ballerat. It's very scenic, however keep in 4 low going down to Rocky's place or you'll smoke your front brake rotors it's that steep. You see the talc dead in front of my Taco after that is the high point, then a left and a serious drop down to the bullrushes and the fork previous mentioned. See that red Taco? She was a sweetheart (V6 with a Five Speed). I got rid of it because I thought 123,000 miles was too much. At that time I did not know they went on forever. I also had a mint Gold one I bought 20 minutes after it was traded in at the dealer. They had not even done the paper work or detailing on it yet. I ran home and got 12 grand and set it on their desk. After 3 hours of haggling (Mandatory) they took it. (69,000) miles. She didn't even have a stone chip. Out of respect for the truck, I sold it. I just couldn't bear to tear it up on the trails. I'm glad that link I sent worked. I'll send you my Youtube link. There are many, many, many trails and trail related places there. My Picture's don't jump like yours. Most of my older stuff was done with a Canon D60 or several different Canon G7's. Your stuff is the best I've seen, can I ask what camera your using? I have a Go-Pro Hero 10 with a window mount now. It's really good for on trail driving, very good stabilizer. It shoots 4 k video but 2700k is just as good, not much for stills, but straight ahead motion is the best yet (I shot the Mt. Charleston vids with the Go-Pro).
These 1st gen Tacomas are great, aren't they? Mine is also a manual transmission v6, and I know the (sad) day will come when I have to move on to something else. I'll try to squeeze out as many miles as I can before that, though! So you've had a couple, and now what are you driving?
Thanks for the road location. I actually had that road mapped to be our exit on the "Almost Stranded" trip, but with a broken leaf spring, we just carried on down Pleasant Canyon in the most expeditious way possible. I have a few things up that loop that I still want to explore, so it's only a matter of time before I get to experience that view in person! 👍
As for photography - I appreciate the kind words. I've got a few friends who I feel like have such great stuff that it makes me feel like I'm always "just a little behind," so it's nice to hear when folks enjoy what I do. My current setup is a Canon R6, which I acquired via an Involuntary Evolution to a New Camera and Glass 🤣. I really did love the Canon 80D that I had previously, and I still stand by my general approach to photography that I developed when I started using it, instead of a cell phone camera: If You Take Enough Photos, Some Are Bound to be Decent.
Headed over to check out more videos now! 👍