Road Trip
07-28-2012, 07:42 PM
#1
CF Veteran
Thread Starter
Road Trip [UPDATED]
It was probably back in May, not long after this trip, that I woke up and realized it was time to start planning for the next. I spent most of my childhood in the Eastern Sierras, dangerously exploring back roads and hunting trails with my grandpa in his '67 VW Bug... the places he drove that thing still shock me. My grandpa and his '67 Bug are both gone now but up until a couple years ago, I'd religiously made the 800 mile (round trip) journey at least a couple times a year (occasionally, 5 or 6 times!). Unfortunately, life and finances got in the way for a while and I found myself without a car and filled with overwhelming apathy for life and adventure... so not me but it had become me.
In October of last year, one of my clients offered me her 23-year-old XJ. She'd bought it new for her granddaughter back in '88 but for whatever reason, it wasn't "cool" enough and was quickly replaced (by a TJ, I believe). So for the past two decades, she had managed to put 106,000 miles on the odometer going to and from church and the store a couple times a week. As far as she knew, it had never been in 4x4 when she gave it to me. It had become too expensive for her to maintain, things were going wrong, it randomly died, the steering wheel wobbled around dangerously, in her mind, it was falling apart and she just wanted to be rid of it in favor of something newer and more reliable.
A couple weeks ago I set my alarm for 2:30 am, it was a Tuesday morning. That's a little earlier than my normal departure but I was hoping to get a jump on traffic and make my way through the desert before the 115º afternoon heat took it's toll on my (and Jeep's) fragile cooling system. I'm not a huge fan of the desert (mostly because of the heat) but I find it's ethereal morning light and silence to be one of the most beautiful things on Earth. As I traveled north on Highway 395, the telltale signs of dawn began to appear on the eastern horizon. Black yielded to a murky blue to a vibrant orange, stars slowly faded from bright beacons to barely discernible leaks in the morning sky. Then I saw it, the tiniest sliver of Moon, just one day from new, chaperoning the Sun over the hills to begin a new day.
I won't bore you with all of them but I feel like one picture just isn't enough...
We (Jeep and I) had left behind the last vestige of civilization for now with only small hamlets of inhabited space between us and our ultimate destination. I couldn't resist stopping for a photo-op at Astro Burger in Kramer Junction. This place is sort of a notorious landmark because of it's isolation, there are no bathrooms for scores of miles in all directions and urban legend has it that, after eating here, you will definitely need one... Urgently!
Fortunately, Astro Burger had yet to open for the day, my colon and Jeep interior had been spared. So it was back on the road, hoping to make it through the desert before the heat became unbearable...
Putting the ice chest on the front seat had the added benefit of giving me something my Jeep never had... cup holders! For the first time I can remember I didn't dump a full cup of hot coffee in my crotch. WooT!
We rocketed [I mean that figuratively] across the Mojave in search of higher, cooler accommodations. After several hours of driving, we finally found them.
After setting up camp I decided it was time for a nutritious dinner followed by a good night's sleep. Here's what followed...
^^Nutritious dinner! ^^
And...
^^Lots of sleep^^
Seriously, lots of sleep.
Okay, so I didn't eat very well and I didn't sleep much at all. I was so excited to be away from the city, away from all it's hustle and bustle, free of the electronic chains, social networks, forums (sorry, CF) and other 21st century obligations that sleep seemed to be nothing more than an inconvenience. Of course, at some point, my body gave up. I'd been up since 2:30 the previous morning, there's only so much I can take.
I started off easy the following morning, knowing it would take both of us some time to adapt to the altitude, but I was anxious to engage my transfer case. I'd played with it a little in suburbia but those were silly, petty excuses for driving all four wheels, I actually had a need for it, now. So I went to the closest place I could remember that grandpa and I had tried and failed to conquer in his VW Bug... the road to Gibbs Mountain Trailhead. There's a spot on this trail that is so steep and rutted that it seems impossible for anything but a trail-tested donkey or a seasoned goat to get up but Jeep just drove right through the nearly vertical dips and woops like they weren't even there.
On our way back.
This photo doesn't do the steepness justice. My inclinometer showed 22º, I have no point of comparison but it seemed impossibly steep.
After cruising around the hills for a few hours, I decided to disengage my TC in favor of flat ground. I spent the balance of my day exploring the shores of Mono (pronounced Mow-No, not Mah-No) Lake, a giant, ancient inland sea with volcanic islands and a salt content three times that of the ocean. There are no fish here, only trillions upon trillions of tiny Brine Shrimp and billions of Alkali Flies that support a very unique and delicate aquatic ecosystem. A large percentage of shorebirds choose this lake as their breeding grounds, including several raptor species, gulls, ducks, geese, and phalaropes. The two islands and dozens of islets provide the ideal, predator free nesting ground. It does seem peculiar seeing "sea" gulls so far from the ocean, though.
Not only does Mono Lake offer a unique environment for aquatic and avian species but for our species, as well. Surprises lurk around every corner, the most stunning are the Tufa formations which develop from a chemical reaction as mineral-rich fresh water springs bubble up from the salty seafloor, as the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power siphoned off the fresh water tributaries, the lake level quickly receded, exposing the Tufa. Some of the more unique formations can be found along the sandy road leading to Navy Beach on the lake's south shore. If you decide to venture out on the road marked "4-wheel-drive vehicles only" be warned that they mean it. The road is extremely sandy and soft and it's very easy to get stuck. If you do, expect to pay between $500 and $1000 for someone to come pull you out. This isn't a place where others will come along to help, if you're traveling alone, you'll most likely be out of luck.
Petrified sand castles.
Jeep playing among the imposing but delicate Tufa.
As you can see from the photos, the weather had begun to change. Hot dry air was slowly replaced by Hot, humid air as monsoonal moisture worked it's way north from the Gulf of Mexico, clashing with the cool mountain air, rain was inevitable. The desert would resist the urge to release this humidity in the form of colossal downpours and lightning strikes that would startle even the most stoic of gods for as long as it could but in the end, rain was coming.
I returned to camp for chicken stir-fry and a fire to ward off the cool (high-30s) evening temperatures. Despite daytime temperatures that flirted with the century mark, it frequently got down to near freezing overnight.
I awoke the next morning to ominous skies and an occasional sprinkle. The air was still far too dry to support any real rain but you could feel the change happening. I decided to head up Log Cabin Mine Road, an old, rutted gravel and rock trail that leads to a mining facility that has been abandoned since the late 1950s but before that, operational (off and on) for over a century. Between the highway and mine, there is a combination of lush aspen and pine forests and virtually alien landscapes completely devoid of any life at all. Conditions are harsh up here and only the heartiest will survive.
The road up is a bit treacherous with unstable shoulders and steep drops. All worth it for the spectacular views...
Along the way, it was obvious that spring came late to this altitude (+/-10,000 feet). Indian Paint Brush, Lupine, and other wildflowers were in full bloom along the trail.
Lupine Forest
Of course, there has to be a log cabin on Log Cabin Mine Road, right?
Could definitely use some shingles, a window or two, and a little carpet but not bad for being over 160 years old.
Once I finally reached the plateau, everything changed. Trees gave way to rock, oxygen thinned, clouds drew ominously closer, and the wind set it's mind to blowing me and Jeep off the mountain.
I found some interesting things abandoned up there, including an old car and lots of mining equipment outside what has been designated a historic preserve.
Can someone tell me what diff I have, LOL
No, seriously, here's the rest of the car... what diff do I have?!
This covers the first half of my road trip, the second half can be found on Page 2 of this thread...
In October of last year, one of my clients offered me her 23-year-old XJ. She'd bought it new for her granddaughter back in '88 but for whatever reason, it wasn't "cool" enough and was quickly replaced (by a TJ, I believe). So for the past two decades, she had managed to put 106,000 miles on the odometer going to and from church and the store a couple times a week. As far as she knew, it had never been in 4x4 when she gave it to me. It had become too expensive for her to maintain, things were going wrong, it randomly died, the steering wheel wobbled around dangerously, in her mind, it was falling apart and she just wanted to be rid of it in favor of something newer and more reliable.
A couple weeks ago I set my alarm for 2:30 am, it was a Tuesday morning. That's a little earlier than my normal departure but I was hoping to get a jump on traffic and make my way through the desert before the 115º afternoon heat took it's toll on my (and Jeep's) fragile cooling system. I'm not a huge fan of the desert (mostly because of the heat) but I find it's ethereal morning light and silence to be one of the most beautiful things on Earth. As I traveled north on Highway 395, the telltale signs of dawn began to appear on the eastern horizon. Black yielded to a murky blue to a vibrant orange, stars slowly faded from bright beacons to barely discernible leaks in the morning sky. Then I saw it, the tiniest sliver of Moon, just one day from new, chaperoning the Sun over the hills to begin a new day.
I won't bore you with all of them but I feel like one picture just isn't enough...
We (Jeep and I) had left behind the last vestige of civilization for now with only small hamlets of inhabited space between us and our ultimate destination. I couldn't resist stopping for a photo-op at Astro Burger in Kramer Junction. This place is sort of a notorious landmark because of it's isolation, there are no bathrooms for scores of miles in all directions and urban legend has it that, after eating here, you will definitely need one... Urgently!
Fortunately, Astro Burger had yet to open for the day, my colon and Jeep interior had been spared. So it was back on the road, hoping to make it through the desert before the heat became unbearable...
Putting the ice chest on the front seat had the added benefit of giving me something my Jeep never had... cup holders! For the first time I can remember I didn't dump a full cup of hot coffee in my crotch. WooT!
We rocketed [I mean that figuratively] across the Mojave in search of higher, cooler accommodations. After several hours of driving, we finally found them.
After setting up camp I decided it was time for a nutritious dinner followed by a good night's sleep. Here's what followed...
^^Nutritious dinner! ^^
And...
^^Lots of sleep^^
Seriously, lots of sleep.
Okay, so I didn't eat very well and I didn't sleep much at all. I was so excited to be away from the city, away from all it's hustle and bustle, free of the electronic chains, social networks, forums (sorry, CF) and other 21st century obligations that sleep seemed to be nothing more than an inconvenience. Of course, at some point, my body gave up. I'd been up since 2:30 the previous morning, there's only so much I can take.
I started off easy the following morning, knowing it would take both of us some time to adapt to the altitude, but I was anxious to engage my transfer case. I'd played with it a little in suburbia but those were silly, petty excuses for driving all four wheels, I actually had a need for it, now. So I went to the closest place I could remember that grandpa and I had tried and failed to conquer in his VW Bug... the road to Gibbs Mountain Trailhead. There's a spot on this trail that is so steep and rutted that it seems impossible for anything but a trail-tested donkey or a seasoned goat to get up but Jeep just drove right through the nearly vertical dips and woops like they weren't even there.
On our way back.
This photo doesn't do the steepness justice. My inclinometer showed 22º, I have no point of comparison but it seemed impossibly steep.
After cruising around the hills for a few hours, I decided to disengage my TC in favor of flat ground. I spent the balance of my day exploring the shores of Mono (pronounced Mow-No, not Mah-No) Lake, a giant, ancient inland sea with volcanic islands and a salt content three times that of the ocean. There are no fish here, only trillions upon trillions of tiny Brine Shrimp and billions of Alkali Flies that support a very unique and delicate aquatic ecosystem. A large percentage of shorebirds choose this lake as their breeding grounds, including several raptor species, gulls, ducks, geese, and phalaropes. The two islands and dozens of islets provide the ideal, predator free nesting ground. It does seem peculiar seeing "sea" gulls so far from the ocean, though.
Not only does Mono Lake offer a unique environment for aquatic and avian species but for our species, as well. Surprises lurk around every corner, the most stunning are the Tufa formations which develop from a chemical reaction as mineral-rich fresh water springs bubble up from the salty seafloor, as the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power siphoned off the fresh water tributaries, the lake level quickly receded, exposing the Tufa. Some of the more unique formations can be found along the sandy road leading to Navy Beach on the lake's south shore. If you decide to venture out on the road marked "4-wheel-drive vehicles only" be warned that they mean it. The road is extremely sandy and soft and it's very easy to get stuck. If you do, expect to pay between $500 and $1000 for someone to come pull you out. This isn't a place where others will come along to help, if you're traveling alone, you'll most likely be out of luck.
Petrified sand castles.
Jeep playing among the imposing but delicate Tufa.
As you can see from the photos, the weather had begun to change. Hot dry air was slowly replaced by Hot, humid air as monsoonal moisture worked it's way north from the Gulf of Mexico, clashing with the cool mountain air, rain was inevitable. The desert would resist the urge to release this humidity in the form of colossal downpours and lightning strikes that would startle even the most stoic of gods for as long as it could but in the end, rain was coming.
I returned to camp for chicken stir-fry and a fire to ward off the cool (high-30s) evening temperatures. Despite daytime temperatures that flirted with the century mark, it frequently got down to near freezing overnight.
I awoke the next morning to ominous skies and an occasional sprinkle. The air was still far too dry to support any real rain but you could feel the change happening. I decided to head up Log Cabin Mine Road, an old, rutted gravel and rock trail that leads to a mining facility that has been abandoned since the late 1950s but before that, operational (off and on) for over a century. Between the highway and mine, there is a combination of lush aspen and pine forests and virtually alien landscapes completely devoid of any life at all. Conditions are harsh up here and only the heartiest will survive.
The road up is a bit treacherous with unstable shoulders and steep drops. All worth it for the spectacular views...
Along the way, it was obvious that spring came late to this altitude (+/-10,000 feet). Indian Paint Brush, Lupine, and other wildflowers were in full bloom along the trail.
Lupine Forest
Of course, there has to be a log cabin on Log Cabin Mine Road, right?
Could definitely use some shingles, a window or two, and a little carpet but not bad for being over 160 years old.
Once I finally reached the plateau, everything changed. Trees gave way to rock, oxygen thinned, clouds drew ominously closer, and the wind set it's mind to blowing me and Jeep off the mountain.
I found some interesting things abandoned up there, including an old car and lots of mining equipment outside what has been designated a historic preserve.
Can someone tell me what diff I have, LOL
No, seriously, here's the rest of the car... what diff do I have?!
This covers the first half of my road trip, the second half can be found on Page 2 of this thread...
Last edited by F1Addict; 08-01-2012 at 12:35 AM.
07-28-2012, 07:52 PM
#2
CF Veteran
What a great story! Sounds like a lot of fun. I'm quite jealous to be honest I wish to take a nice trip like this one day in the dessert or woods
07-28-2012, 08:21 PM
#3
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Very Awesome!!!!! You take really good pictures. I see this thread going 10+ pages. I like how you did this by your self, I have been thinking about a trip like this for a while.....I may have to do it now.
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07-28-2012, 11:47 PM
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So I say to you, don't just dream about it, don't just think about it, do it. Start planning, start putting together the things you'll need to be self-sufficient for a few days and go. Pack your wife, pack your kids, bring the dog, or go it alone... but go.
07-28-2012, 11:52 PM
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Hey, thanks all. I'm glad you enjoyed reading, I'm looking forward to finishing up the writing of the second half. I tend to travel alone, even when I have a girlfriend... not sure why that is. I guess it's rare that I encounter a woman who compliments my traveling habits. It's happened [see linked story], but it's rare. Plus, there's something cleansing about solo adventures.
So I say to you, don't just dream about it, don't just think about it, do it. Start planning, start putting together the things you'll need to be self-sufficient for a few days and go. Pack your wife, pack your kids, bring the dog, or go it alone... but go.
So I say to you, don't just dream about it, don't just think about it, do it. Start planning, start putting together the things you'll need to be self-sufficient for a few days and go. Pack your wife, pack your kids, bring the dog, or go it alone... but go.
07-29-2012, 12:43 AM
#11
I WIN!
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Mono Lake is AMAZING isn't it!? Love the salt formations! 395 is a great drive. Cali has to be the only place one earth you can go from one extreme to another within a day. Great pics and trip story Jeff! Love it!
07-29-2012, 03:39 AM
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Excellent writing and stunning photography,was completely engrossed,If you was to compile a book I would buy it.
I would love to do a trip like that,with no noise, interruptions,or set rules.
Hear in England we don't have the vastness of area to lose civilisation like that trip.
Thankyou for taking the time to share your story,your Grandfather would of been
smiling from above,Im sure.
I would love to do a trip like that,with no noise, interruptions,or set rules.
Hear in England we don't have the vastness of area to lose civilisation like that trip.
Thankyou for taking the time to share your story,your Grandfather would of been
smiling from above,Im sure.
