After the ill-fated attempt at the Imperial Sand Dunes we were a bit weary of dunes of any kind. But we had had a little taste of the kind of sand environment the FJ really likes when we played around at the border fence: Large dunes, with longer slopes. Or simply sandy undulating terrain. And that's exactly what we found in Superstition Mountain, and plenty of it.
We started the day by trying to follow a GPS trail Rick had downloaded. As it often happens, the trail was made by someone in an OHV (quad or dirt bike), who didn't necessarily follow any roads, so we ended up loosing that trail and just driving around impromptu. As we approached the mountain with the intent of going around it, we found a section of slope mostly sandy with rock crops here and there. The slope itself ended on a bowl, at a steep grade. But by going around the bowl from the right, and going accross on a diagonal over a segment of less steep slope and then up between two rock crops, it looked like we could do it.
I was explaining that idea to Rick, who, unbelieving, just said "why don't you go first then?", jokingly. It felt like a challenge, and it probably was. I got back into the car and off I went, doing exactly what I had suggested. The climb was successful, and soon after, all the other vehicles followed me up the hill. Perfect, except by the fact that in the testosterone-induced mental fog, I'd left Ellen at the bottom of the hill. Finally, Ellen shows up after climbing on foot, and none too happy about having been left behind like that. Being the nice person that she is, she eventually forgave my lapse in judgment.
From the top of the hill we sighted a communications tower nearby, over on the other side of the mountain ridge. We drove there across more sandy bowls and rock crops, really cross-country at this point, and enjoying every minute of it. We spent a few minutes near the comm tower (which had a fairly usable paved road leading to it from the base of the mountain), enjoying the view and planning our next move. I had been leading the group since the hill-climb, and continued to do so from the comm tower, as we decided to go down-hill on the paved road and try to find a trail that would hug the northeast face of the mountain and lead us towards its waist. Our objective was another comm tower on another peak about a mile or so away.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
ISDRA (March 16)
We broke camp and headed SW towards Glamis, where the Imperial Sand Dunes Recreational Area (ISDRA) is located. This was something that Andras had an itch to try, and we all went along. My concerns before we got there were mostly about how my 255s (a tire width slightly thinner than what you have on a stock FJ) Mud Terrains would fare on the soft sand.
The Glamis location was basically a few stores and a couple of RV camping grounds. The place was crawling with quads, dirt bikes and serious looking dune buggies. Conspicuously missing were any sort of SUV type vehicles around the dunes. There were pickup trucks with 12 in lifts and 37 in tires, but mostly towing trailers with quads or bikes. Still, we figured we'd give it a shot. We let Andras lead.
We go over a dune, and then over another. My tires are at 18PSI, and I'm having no issues. And then Andras heads for a steep slope. A this point I should explain that the dunes where we were were not large. They were at most 20 ft height. But that is precisely what made them dangerous for us. The tops of the dunes were not wide at all, for instance. And they tended to be steep. I felt like I was driving an FJ on a skate park. In any case, Andras goes over a larger, steeper wall, barely makes it. Then his voice comes on the radio: "This is harder than I thought!" I follow him, but didn't have enough momentum, so had to slide down backwards. And there's the other reason why those dunes were dangerous to us. The FJ sliding down does not track straight, and turning the wheel has little effect, so you could be sliding on a diagonal or even on your side. Which was precisely what happened moments later with Erik. But we'll get to that.
We go over a couple more dunes, at which point I radio: "Am I the only one feeling uncomfortable about this?" to which laughter breaks on the radio, as Rick and Erik heartily confirm that I'm not. Moments later I drop without slowing down from a four feet ledge where the slope broke. Lots of those around, too. Yet another evidence that the place was going to end up outright killing us.
Still we continue, trying to find paths through the dunes. Eventually we found ourselves surrounded by bowls, and the only way out was along the dune tops. Rick and Andras were ahead, and Erik and I a little behind. And that's when it happened: Erik is trying to stay on the top, but he starts sliding sideways, on a fairly steep slope. Not too steep if you were going down on it front first. But very steep as it was. Miraculously, he did not tip over. That's when I hear on the radio (don't remember if Andras or Erik himself): "That's it, we're done!" This happened about 20 minutes or so into the run.
Finally out of there and laughing at ourselves about the whole ISDRA visit we headed south via dirt roads towards I-8. I-8 is the southernmost interstate in this area, and in certain points it travels at less than a mile from the US-Mexico border. Before we came we talked about the possibility of accidentally traveling into Mexico, due to the proximity and the fact that we would driving through the back country and often not even on roads. Well, as we drove on I-8 west-bound I realized that would have been difficult: There is a 20+ ft metal fence along the boder. We took an exit towards the border when I-8 seemed particularly close to the fence (about half-mile) and drove right to it (after clearing it with the border patrol agents in the area). We got out of the vehicles, took pictures and touched the thing. The idea of having a fence like this does not agree with me, but the worse part is that, even at the height of 20 ft, it would still be possible to climb it, for someone even moderately in shape, even if that person did not have a hook attached to a rope. Like many other actions take by government, this seems to be a token to show that it is taking action (any action). This is only my personal opinion, of course.
After following the fence for a bit and driving over the dunes, and even racing along the fence (Andras and I drag-raced to the exit road for about 300 ft) we headed to a hotel for the night.
The Glamis location was basically a few stores and a couple of RV camping grounds. The place was crawling with quads, dirt bikes and serious looking dune buggies. Conspicuously missing were any sort of SUV type vehicles around the dunes. There were pickup trucks with 12 in lifts and 37 in tires, but mostly towing trailers with quads or bikes. Still, we figured we'd give it a shot. We let Andras lead.
We go over a dune, and then over another. My tires are at 18PSI, and I'm having no issues. And then Andras heads for a steep slope. A this point I should explain that the dunes where we were were not large. They were at most 20 ft height. But that is precisely what made them dangerous for us. The tops of the dunes were not wide at all, for instance. And they tended to be steep. I felt like I was driving an FJ on a skate park. In any case, Andras goes over a larger, steeper wall, barely makes it. Then his voice comes on the radio: "This is harder than I thought!" I follow him, but didn't have enough momentum, so had to slide down backwards. And there's the other reason why those dunes were dangerous to us. The FJ sliding down does not track straight, and turning the wheel has little effect, so you could be sliding on a diagonal or even on your side. Which was precisely what happened moments later with Erik. But we'll get to that.
We go over a couple more dunes, at which point I radio: "Am I the only one feeling uncomfortable about this?" to which laughter breaks on the radio, as Rick and Erik heartily confirm that I'm not. Moments later I drop without slowing down from a four feet ledge where the slope broke. Lots of those around, too. Yet another evidence that the place was going to end up outright killing us.
Still we continue, trying to find paths through the dunes. Eventually we found ourselves surrounded by bowls, and the only way out was along the dune tops. Rick and Andras were ahead, and Erik and I a little behind. And that's when it happened: Erik is trying to stay on the top, but he starts sliding sideways, on a fairly steep slope. Not too steep if you were going down on it front first. But very steep as it was. Miraculously, he did not tip over. That's when I hear on the radio (don't remember if Andras or Erik himself): "That's it, we're done!" This happened about 20 minutes or so into the run.
Finally out of there and laughing at ourselves about the whole ISDRA visit we headed south via dirt roads towards I-8. I-8 is the southernmost interstate in this area, and in certain points it travels at less than a mile from the US-Mexico border. Before we came we talked about the possibility of accidentally traveling into Mexico, due to the proximity and the fact that we would driving through the back country and often not even on roads. Well, as we drove on I-8 west-bound I realized that would have been difficult: There is a 20+ ft metal fence along the boder. We took an exit towards the border when I-8 seemed particularly close to the fence (about half-mile) and drove right to it (after clearing it with the border patrol agents in the area). We got out of the vehicles, took pictures and touched the thing. The idea of having a fence like this does not agree with me, but the worse part is that, even at the height of 20 ft, it would still be possible to climb it, for someone even moderately in shape, even if that person did not have a hook attached to a rope. Like many other actions take by government, this seems to be a token to show that it is taking action (any action). This is only my personal opinion, of course.
After following the fence for a bit and driving over the dunes, and even racing along the fence (Andras and I drag-raced to the exit road for about 300 ft) we headed to a hotel for the night.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Racing through Arizona (March 15)
The nice hotel bed in Yuma was a well deserved break for everyone. All of us had had very busy weeks preparing for this trip, all of us had little sleep the previous night for one reason or another, and our day got three hours longer upon arrival in Phoenix. Even though some of us were itching to use our new roof top tents, the thought of making camp in the dark and very tired just wasn't that appealing.
We woke up on Sunday and all of us set out to reorganize our cargo in the parking lot at the hotel. The previous day of light wheeling had revealed problems such as poor visibility and loose objects bouncing around in the cabin that we were all trying to resolve.
Out of Yuma we started driving NW, eventually to get to the Parker 400 race course. Our itinerary took us through some tough Arizona back country terrain, including some spots of moderate difficulty, where Kakie's navigation skills were put to the test, as we crossed the hills and canyons on barely visible trails. At least once the trail indicated by the GPS map simply ended on a rock wall.
Before getting to the race course we did a run through an easy trail nearby, that we sped through as a means of making it more interesting. These are trucks, not rally cars, so "sped through" means as fast as we dared go through the obstacles without ejecting everything tied up to our roof racks. In other words: not really that fast. At least until we reached the race course. There things got decidedly faster.
The Parker 400 race course is a desert truck racing stage. It's a dirt track where most of it is leveled, which allowed a handful of East Coast desperados in their FJs to tear through at 60 to 80 mph. There were quite a few very deep dips, in which somehow none of use managed to fly into, especially when one accounts for the dust raised by the forward vehicles. The thick, white dust in the sunset light made it impossible to see anything more than 10 m ahead, unless you gave the vehicle ahead of you at least 100 m of lead, and as long as there was some wind.
We decided to end the day by camping on the BLM land, just off the track, on a small hilltop. And then it was dinner, chat around the imaginary camp fire (we weren't certain about the regulations on camp fires, so we didn't light one) admiring the beauty of the backcountry night sky, and finally off to our tents for a good night of sleep.
We woke up on Sunday and all of us set out to reorganize our cargo in the parking lot at the hotel. The previous day of light wheeling had revealed problems such as poor visibility and loose objects bouncing around in the cabin that we were all trying to resolve.
Out of Yuma we started driving NW, eventually to get to the Parker 400 race course. Our itinerary took us through some tough Arizona back country terrain, including some spots of moderate difficulty, where Kakie's navigation skills were put to the test, as we crossed the hills and canyons on barely visible trails. At least once the trail indicated by the GPS map simply ended on a rock wall.
Before getting to the race course we did a run through an easy trail nearby, that we sped through as a means of making it more interesting. These are trucks, not rally cars, so "sped through" means as fast as we dared go through the obstacles without ejecting everything tied up to our roof racks. In other words: not really that fast. At least until we reached the race course. There things got decidedly faster.
The Parker 400 race course is a desert truck racing stage. It's a dirt track where most of it is leveled, which allowed a handful of East Coast desperados in their FJs to tear through at 60 to 80 mph. There were quite a few very deep dips, in which somehow none of use managed to fly into, especially when one accounts for the dust raised by the forward vehicles. The thick, white dust in the sunset light made it impossible to see anything more than 10 m ahead, unless you gave the vehicle ahead of you at least 100 m of lead, and as long as there was some wind.
We decided to end the day by camping on the BLM land, just off the track, on a small hilltop. And then it was dinner, chat around the imaginary camp fire (we weren't certain about the regulations on camp fires, so we didn't light one) admiring the beauty of the backcountry night sky, and finally off to our tents for a good night of sleep.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Arrival - Yuma (March 14)
We arrived yesterday in two separate flights: Rick and Kakie and Andras and Ottilia first (they had the same connection flight) and Erik and Jill, and Ellen and I (we carpooled to the airport and came in the same direct flight), about one hour behind. There was quite a bit of work on the cars before we managed to leave the storage space: Rick's tent and mine had to be reinstalled, the packing in the car reorganized, and water containers filled, to name a few tasks.
We drove around town for an hour or so, got gas, had lunch at a Burger King, and bought some last minute items at a very large Wal-Mart. After that we kept driving west, and after an hour or so (already near dusk at this point), we finally hit the gravel. This wasn't off-roading yet, but it was enjoyable. We drove for about two or three hours on gravel roads, deserted but for our four vehicles, and it was completely dark early into the driving. We stopped a bit on the road to "take the night in", as Rick put it through the radio. What a pleasant night; mild temperature, dry, fresh wind blowing. After chatting for a few minutes, we were back in the trucks and heading to Yuma as originally planned, and to a hotel bed. We arrived at the hotel around 2130 hrs local time.
We drove around town for an hour or so, got gas, had lunch at a Burger King, and bought some last minute items at a very large Wal-Mart. After that we kept driving west, and after an hour or so (already near dusk at this point), we finally hit the gravel. This wasn't off-roading yet, but it was enjoyable. We drove for about two or three hours on gravel roads, deserted but for our four vehicles, and it was completely dark early into the driving. We stopped a bit on the road to "take the night in", as Rick put it through the radio. What a pleasant night; mild temperature, dry, fresh wind blowing. After chatting for a few minutes, we were back in the trucks and heading to Yuma as originally planned, and to a hotel bed. We arrived at the hotel around 2130 hrs local time.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
A note of thanks
As you get into off-roading and start looking into modifying your vehicle to increase its capabilities or adapt it to your personal tastes, you become part of a relatively small market segment, dealing in quality customization products made in low volume by small shops. The first thing you notice when you look around at your options is that the people behind these products are not anonymous. They are there, posting on the forums, having heated discussions, discussing their design, etc. These people have reputations they need to preserve, and misbehaving or letting customers down could easily mean the end of their business.
I just would like to put a little note in here to thank some of those guys for their commitment to an out of the ordinary customer service:
I just would like to put a little note in here to thank some of those guys for their commitment to an out of the ordinary customer service:
- Special thanks to Chris, at Lucrum Industries.
- Bud, at BudBuilt.
- Mike, at AutoHome USA.
- Doug, at Newark Toyota World.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Tying up the loose ends
With the truck gone, Ellen and I are now getting the smaller items in our check list done (things that we can bring with us in the plane). Yesterday I bought some extra PL-259 coax connectors, just in case I need to redo some of my antenna cables (further dependent on parts of our equipment that couldn't make it to our home in time and had to be redirected to Arizona actually arriving there on time). Our two pelican cases we ordered arrived on Friday, and we were playing around with the foam lining. One will hold our handgun and magazines and the other our laptop and some cables.
The idea of using a pelican case for the gun made more sense when we thought we were going to have to check it in as a volume by itself. It turns out that with Southwestern Airlines the locked box containing a firearm can actually be inside a suitcase. So any lockable box would have been fine. This is the thing with trips like these: we're trying several things for the first time, and learning (sometimes the hard way) how to deal with the unexpected. The overlarge pelican case I'll be carrying in my suitcase is just a minor "case in point."
So, I'm also bringing a laptop. A two-year-old macbook, somewhat underpowered by today's standards, but capable of running the National Geographic TOPO! mapping software. The NatGeo (as the cool kids prefer to say it) software is a bit too simple, and often awkward to use. But there doesn't seem to be a lot of options for Macs and Linuxes out there today in terms of mapping software. It's a shame, since the USGS data is basically available for free (as far as I can tell) to anyone with enough brains to implement their data standard. I'm toying around with the idea of starting an open source project in this area (file under "when time allows"). But I digress. So the other thing we've been doing is buying last minute stuff online, like a Garmin etrex serial connector (with a USB adapter), and some map cds from NatGeo, covering AZ and CA (I can get the NV and UT maps piecemeal, since we're not covering much in those states). These should be arriving on Tuesday. I hope to be able to have some level of a rudimentary electronic nav system available, just in case Rick's state of the art GPS paraphernalia decides to die an untimely death. Come to think of it, it would have been a good idea to get paper maps too.
The idea of using a pelican case for the gun made more sense when we thought we were going to have to check it in as a volume by itself. It turns out that with Southwestern Airlines the locked box containing a firearm can actually be inside a suitcase. So any lockable box would have been fine. This is the thing with trips like these: we're trying several things for the first time, and learning (sometimes the hard way) how to deal with the unexpected. The overlarge pelican case I'll be carrying in my suitcase is just a minor "case in point."
So, I'm also bringing a laptop. A two-year-old macbook, somewhat underpowered by today's standards, but capable of running the National Geographic TOPO! mapping software. The NatGeo (as the cool kids prefer to say it) software is a bit too simple, and often awkward to use. But there doesn't seem to be a lot of options for Macs and Linuxes out there today in terms of mapping software. It's a shame, since the USGS data is basically available for free (as far as I can tell) to anyone with enough brains to implement their data standard. I'm toying around with the idea of starting an open source project in this area (file under "when time allows"). But I digress. So the other thing we've been doing is buying last minute stuff online, like a Garmin etrex serial connector (with a USB adapter), and some map cds from NatGeo, covering AZ and CA (I can get the NV and UT maps piecemeal, since we're not covering much in those states). These should be arriving on Tuesday. I hope to be able to have some level of a rudimentary electronic nav system available, just in case Rick's state of the art GPS paraphernalia decides to die an untimely death. Come to think of it, it would have been a good idea to get paper maps too.
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