Captain Obvious
New member
December 19
Like all my trips the weeks leading up to departure are filled anticipation and the excitement to be finally getting down the road. Unlike most of my trips I was pretty well prepared this time and left home at 6am Saturday confident the rig was loaded with all the required gear and supplies for the next eleven days. This trip would test out my new Front Runner Feather-Lite tent, my first roof top tent. The extra weight up top was not especially noticeable and at highway speeds wind noise was minimal. Having never even slept in a roof top tent before I was all in on this setup working out.
A few hours in the scene was grim at the chain-up area ascending Donner Summit. Lines of cars sat stationary as I calmly reached to set H4 on the dash and maintain a brisk pace through the snow.
Dropping down the eastern face the snow levels drop considerably as is often the case. Smooth progress until the turn off for Trego hot springs. The final leg for the day covered rough dirt roads with large wash outs, preventing much window gazing. Had the place to myself that night, enjoyed some beers and a hot meal then turned in due to the wind and temps in the mid-twenties. My idea of windy was soon recalibrated.
December 20
Slept really well the night before, the tent seemed like a five star hotel. There's plenty of space and being off the ground really does feel good. The only issue was scrambling down the ladder to get rid of all those beers. A pee bottle seems the way to go.
Waited what seemed like hours for the sun to rise that morning. The mountains to the east preventing direct rays until finally painting the peaks opposite the valley bright orange. It's a vast place indeed. Took some photos, had a brew and packed up.
With no real plan other than exploring the desert, I made a serpentine loop northeast across the playa before heading west over the pass and finally turning South and stopping for the day. The roads were rough, in some places especially rough. I broke the trailer light harness bracket off on a washout, needed to be relocated anyways. It's humbling to think about emigrants traveling these trails in wagons as I sit in the comfortable interior of my Tacoma, complete with climate control, cold drinks and a year's worth of music.
Came across a hot spring in the middle of nowhere. The fence around the perimeter was puzzling until I read the sign stating the water temperature was 175 degrees.
Lots of abandoned shacks in the high canyons. Tough place to live, even tougher place to make a living.
With daylight vanishing I needed to find a place to camp for the night. The only options were find a valley in hopes of some protection from the rising winds or driving another two hours out of the canyons. I regretfully opted for the former. A quick meal and shot of whiskey put a cap on a long day. Climbing into the tent felt as good as ever.
That night the winds battered the tent, stressing every seam and support. Ear plugs gave some relief but even the truck was swaying. By 5:30am I couldn't take it any longer and hastily packed up and headed down out of the canyon. The desert is harsh in many ways.
December 21
Eastward across the desert. Only mining and ranching providing a cash flow for those tough enough. Many hours of mud, ice and washboard before entering Winnemucca, a town existing only for the presence of I-80 it would seem. Jack In The Box is the first meal of the day, and lasts less than minutes.
That night camp was in a smaller area of the Sawtooth National Forest in Southern Idaho. All the campgrounds were technically open but snow prevented access. I found an area at lower altitudes where four wheel drive allowed entrance. No one in sight. Chicken fajitas tasted especially good that evening.
December 22
Waking to two feet of fresh snow could not have made me happier. A calm night allowed much needed sleep. Progress today was less pressing after the 12 hour drive previously. Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and a hot cup of coffee hit the spot that morning.
Craters of The Moon rises out of the flat valley, a black and white landscape.
Further eastward towards Driggs and I pass Atomic City, the headquarters of Idaho National Laboratory, an absolutely massive federal complex where they work on nuclear energy solutions. Small signs indicate no trespassing but security seems non-existent. I imagine swift intervention if I were to stray from the road however.
Another long day of driving ends with finding a lovely hotel near downtown Driggs. I unload my gear into the log cabin completely furnished and toasty warm. The roof top tent stays stowed.
December 23
Spent the day snowmobiling through National Forest with a guided group. The snow levels were massive and the temperature low. At one point we turned around since everyone was getting their sleds buried in the drifts. We found an open field and let loose. Felt good to pin it through the powder.
Exhausted, I spent that evening in the cabin and enjoyed whiskey, television and burgers. It is meant to be a vacation after all.
December 24
Woke at a reasonable time and after saying goodbye to all the luxuries of indoor living, continued East to Grand Teton National Park.
Teton pass is steep and winding on both sides with famously good snow. Groups of backcountry skiers wait at the bottom to hitch a ride. My rig was so packed that I couldn't help them out this time.
I get to the park and instead of the rugged peaks and blue skies I'm met with low clouds and snow. Visibility of 40 feet.
The plan was to do some backcountry camping so I park up at the trailhead for Death Canyon getting the last space. I imagine they're all day trippers though. Loading a sled with the tent, sleeping bag, cook kit and loads of non-essentials I strap on snowshoes and begin the slow progress into the woods.
Passing a few people along the way we had a laugh when they realized my plan to sleep outside. Should be a quiet night.
Taking a spur off the main trail I find a nice clearing and gladly undo the harness and park the sled. What a huge effort to pull that load. Worth it?
That night I replace spent calories with ground beef, potatoes and onions wrapped in foil and baked in the fire. No need for entertainment, I pass out early.
December 25
Waking up two hours before the sun, I pack up and put down two cups of coffee in preparation for the slog back to the truck. Seems like too much work for only staying one night.
Seeing the truck is an amazing feeling. So is the view this day. Bright blue skies contrasting with the jagged black and white peaks.
December 26
Waking up to a bracing -20 degrees in Stanley, I'm glad with the decision to get a hotel. The battery in the truck struggles to turn the engine over with the oil thick as molasses. I imagine locals either use block heaters or change to a lighter oil this time of year.
Stanley is in a stunning area and is the only town completely surrounded by national recreation land. A few snowmobilers brave the conditions.
Make it to Willow Creek campground in Oregon that night. Located in open ranch land, it seems like an unlikely spot for a campground but the hot springs are a highlight.
A light moves towards me across the plain for what seems like ten minutes before the Toyota FJ whips into the campground. I guess I'll have company this evening.
Even more unlikely is the second truck to pull up an hour later. It's a party in the middle of nowhere.
December 27
Take the day off and nurse a massive hangover. Many hours in the hot springs.
December 28
The California border means the trip is winding down and to be honest I'm looking forward to being home. Getting to Lassen National Forest, I find a secluded pull off a service road. Four wheel drive makes it possible in the deep snow. Sleep is fitful and I awake at four in the morning to the sound of saws. What the hell is going on? Is it normal for logging to take place this time of the night?
I stay in the tent until six before putting my boots and four layers of clothing on. Climb down the ladder and step into the snow for one last time. One more cup of coffee. One more day. But not the last adventure. The call of the wilderness is loud and convincing.
Like all my trips the weeks leading up to departure are filled anticipation and the excitement to be finally getting down the road. Unlike most of my trips I was pretty well prepared this time and left home at 6am Saturday confident the rig was loaded with all the required gear and supplies for the next eleven days. This trip would test out my new Front Runner Feather-Lite tent, my first roof top tent. The extra weight up top was not especially noticeable and at highway speeds wind noise was minimal. Having never even slept in a roof top tent before I was all in on this setup working out.
A few hours in the scene was grim at the chain-up area ascending Donner Summit. Lines of cars sat stationary as I calmly reached to set H4 on the dash and maintain a brisk pace through the snow.
Dropping down the eastern face the snow levels drop considerably as is often the case. Smooth progress until the turn off for Trego hot springs. The final leg for the day covered rough dirt roads with large wash outs, preventing much window gazing. Had the place to myself that night, enjoyed some beers and a hot meal then turned in due to the wind and temps in the mid-twenties. My idea of windy was soon recalibrated.
December 20
Slept really well the night before, the tent seemed like a five star hotel. There's plenty of space and being off the ground really does feel good. The only issue was scrambling down the ladder to get rid of all those beers. A pee bottle seems the way to go.
Waited what seemed like hours for the sun to rise that morning. The mountains to the east preventing direct rays until finally painting the peaks opposite the valley bright orange. It's a vast place indeed. Took some photos, had a brew and packed up.
With no real plan other than exploring the desert, I made a serpentine loop northeast across the playa before heading west over the pass and finally turning South and stopping for the day. The roads were rough, in some places especially rough. I broke the trailer light harness bracket off on a washout, needed to be relocated anyways. It's humbling to think about emigrants traveling these trails in wagons as I sit in the comfortable interior of my Tacoma, complete with climate control, cold drinks and a year's worth of music.
Came across a hot spring in the middle of nowhere. The fence around the perimeter was puzzling until I read the sign stating the water temperature was 175 degrees.
Lots of abandoned shacks in the high canyons. Tough place to live, even tougher place to make a living.
With daylight vanishing I needed to find a place to camp for the night. The only options were find a valley in hopes of some protection from the rising winds or driving another two hours out of the canyons. I regretfully opted for the former. A quick meal and shot of whiskey put a cap on a long day. Climbing into the tent felt as good as ever.
That night the winds battered the tent, stressing every seam and support. Ear plugs gave some relief but even the truck was swaying. By 5:30am I couldn't take it any longer and hastily packed up and headed down out of the canyon. The desert is harsh in many ways.
December 21
Eastward across the desert. Only mining and ranching providing a cash flow for those tough enough. Many hours of mud, ice and washboard before entering Winnemucca, a town existing only for the presence of I-80 it would seem. Jack In The Box is the first meal of the day, and lasts less than minutes.
That night camp was in a smaller area of the Sawtooth National Forest in Southern Idaho. All the campgrounds were technically open but snow prevented access. I found an area at lower altitudes where four wheel drive allowed entrance. No one in sight. Chicken fajitas tasted especially good that evening.
December 22
Waking to two feet of fresh snow could not have made me happier. A calm night allowed much needed sleep. Progress today was less pressing after the 12 hour drive previously. Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and a hot cup of coffee hit the spot that morning.
Craters of The Moon rises out of the flat valley, a black and white landscape.
Further eastward towards Driggs and I pass Atomic City, the headquarters of Idaho National Laboratory, an absolutely massive federal complex where they work on nuclear energy solutions. Small signs indicate no trespassing but security seems non-existent. I imagine swift intervention if I were to stray from the road however.
Another long day of driving ends with finding a lovely hotel near downtown Driggs. I unload my gear into the log cabin completely furnished and toasty warm. The roof top tent stays stowed.
December 23
Spent the day snowmobiling through National Forest with a guided group. The snow levels were massive and the temperature low. At one point we turned around since everyone was getting their sleds buried in the drifts. We found an open field and let loose. Felt good to pin it through the powder.
Exhausted, I spent that evening in the cabin and enjoyed whiskey, television and burgers. It is meant to be a vacation after all.
December 24
Woke at a reasonable time and after saying goodbye to all the luxuries of indoor living, continued East to Grand Teton National Park.
Teton pass is steep and winding on both sides with famously good snow. Groups of backcountry skiers wait at the bottom to hitch a ride. My rig was so packed that I couldn't help them out this time.
I get to the park and instead of the rugged peaks and blue skies I'm met with low clouds and snow. Visibility of 40 feet.
The plan was to do some backcountry camping so I park up at the trailhead for Death Canyon getting the last space. I imagine they're all day trippers though. Loading a sled with the tent, sleeping bag, cook kit and loads of non-essentials I strap on snowshoes and begin the slow progress into the woods.
Passing a few people along the way we had a laugh when they realized my plan to sleep outside. Should be a quiet night.
Taking a spur off the main trail I find a nice clearing and gladly undo the harness and park the sled. What a huge effort to pull that load. Worth it?
That night I replace spent calories with ground beef, potatoes and onions wrapped in foil and baked in the fire. No need for entertainment, I pass out early.
December 25
Waking up two hours before the sun, I pack up and put down two cups of coffee in preparation for the slog back to the truck. Seems like too much work for only staying one night.
Seeing the truck is an amazing feeling. So is the view this day. Bright blue skies contrasting with the jagged black and white peaks.
December 26
Waking up to a bracing -20 degrees in Stanley, I'm glad with the decision to get a hotel. The battery in the truck struggles to turn the engine over with the oil thick as molasses. I imagine locals either use block heaters or change to a lighter oil this time of year.
Stanley is in a stunning area and is the only town completely surrounded by national recreation land. A few snowmobilers brave the conditions.
Make it to Willow Creek campground in Oregon that night. Located in open ranch land, it seems like an unlikely spot for a campground but the hot springs are a highlight.
A light moves towards me across the plain for what seems like ten minutes before the Toyota FJ whips into the campground. I guess I'll have company this evening.
Even more unlikely is the second truck to pull up an hour later. It's a party in the middle of nowhere.
December 27
Take the day off and nurse a massive hangover. Many hours in the hot springs.
December 28
The California border means the trip is winding down and to be honest I'm looking forward to being home. Getting to Lassen National Forest, I find a secluded pull off a service road. Four wheel drive makes it possible in the deep snow. Sleep is fitful and I awake at four in the morning to the sound of saws. What the hell is going on? Is it normal for logging to take place this time of the night?
I stay in the tent until six before putting my boots and four layers of clothing on. Climb down the ladder and step into the snow for one last time. One more cup of coffee. One more day. But not the last adventure. The call of the wilderness is loud and convincing.
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