The Wanderers build

superbuickguy

Explorer
I need another Sunday to get done and it just isn't going to happen. Tomorrow night is probably going to be the last of the building until after the rally. At this point, I don't have long enough cords for the solar panels.... ugh.

anyway, bed frame is done
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battery holders.... 50% is now in place
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no picture but I have protection under the battery, now just for the ends

it's a race to finish enough...
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
we have power
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connected all the various power sources together
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water won't be done, propane neither but it should be comfortable...
 

Loubaru

Adventurer
Looking great! Like the folding bed/storage set up.

What do you use to prep your metal before paint? Stuff that I've cared about I've brought into a shop where I have access to larger bead blaster but stuff I don't care about I've just whipped down with acetone and used self etching primer. I'm assuming this isn't the best way to go about things though...? I'm thinking about trying this stuff out: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B001H1JNAY/_encoding=UTF8?coliid=IK78BZ01EO4FM&colid=JUPRC8Y2DI4O.

Also, did you use liquid nails to attach your boards for quickness purposes?
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
I use the purple grease remover (super clean) - works awesome at getting it good enough for rustoleum.
there are screws under, but the liquid nails is to stop rattles and squeaks.
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
So, loaded and ready to go (well, other then clothes and food, but the important stuff is on
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lordy I hate sorting from all my other camping excursions... my hope is this is the one-rig-to-rule-them all. Failing that, it's where the sports closet is getting stored.
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the foot was for sanity - makes it a lot easier to store stuff under
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Friend loaned me his brand-new trailer.... thanks John! or maybe I should thank John's brother since it's his trailer :D
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java

Expedition Leader
Sweet! See you there! I was frantically trying to pack last night.... Didn't get very far.
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
Very slow at top of Stevens pass. Probably low pump pressure. Of course gcvw was north of 14k. Still no insurmountable problems. Do say hi if you're here. Look for my fj40 😎
 

bknudtsen

Expedition Leader
I was wondering how the 6.2 would tow. Not really known to be pullers, but you do have the turbo. Did you make it ok?
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
THE WANDERERS #20




WHEN THE FLAG DROPS!

By Rick Sieman





When we last left Carl and Emma, they had just completed a shopping spree in Ensenada, Baja, Mexico... and Carl had decided to enter the Baja Safari, a timed rally that was to be run in conjunction with the Baja 500 race.
The competitors would actually drive on the same course as the regular racers, but would start after them, and would have to drive against the clock. We join them as they leave the sign up booth and head for tech inspection.

***

"Uhh. sir, are you going to race this... thing... in the Baja Safari?"
Carl eyeballed the tech inspector. "Yeah. What about it? This here is a stretched wheelbase, four wheel drive Suburban. Ain't you ever seen one before?"
"Oh, yes... of course. But I've never seen one with a boat on the roof, a satellite dish, two trail bikes, four roll-out awnings, a fold-up porch, an external barbecue and an outside shower."
Carl beamed. "Hellsfire, boy, then you ought to take a looksee inside. You're really gonna be impressed!
They clambered up inside the huge Suburban and Carl gave the inspector the tour.
"This here's the fold down table, and over there is the stove and fridge. I keep the fishin' rods on the roof, and over there is the fold-out beds. The TV, stereo and VCR is over here and the pool table is tucked in alongside the fridge. The generator hangs out on the back rack where the big trail bike is mounted, and I got six batteries under the hood. There's two winches in case I git 'er stuck, which is highly unlikely, because I am a muchly skilled driver. And there's a half dozen other goodies I ain't even showed you. Well, whaddaya think?"
The tech inspector just stood there, jaw hanging, eyes bugged out.

***

Forty hours later, Carl and Emma were sitting in The Whale, lined up to compete in the Baja Safari. The regular racers were up ahead, roaring off the starting line, one every 30 seconds. It would be two hours before the Safari entrants rolled.

Carl bit off a plug of tobacco and grumbled. "Jeez, Emma, you'd think they'd woulda left some of our stuff in The Whale. Do you realize our truck here is practically gutted? No fridge, no tables, no beds, no TV... they even made me take the boat off the roof and both trail bikes off the bumper racks. Well, guess that's the price you gotta pay to be a big-time racer, right Emma? Emma? Emma, you OK?"
Emma had the fingernails of both hands buried into the dash, her face was pale and a large blue vein throbbed visibly in her forehead.
Carl patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. "Now, dear... don't you worry none."
Emma looked up sharply. "Worry? I'm not worried. I'm sick as a sheep dog that just ate an Army boot. I feel like I might die and I'm afraid that I won't."
Carl spit a small wad out of the window of The Whale. "No doubt it was those 14 margaritas you drank over there in Hussong's Cantina the other day. Boy, I was wondering where you got off to. And you know, it's not like you to drink much more than a glass or two of Boones Farm Strawberry Ripple wine every now and then."
Emma shuddered. "Carl, you big bozo, I was hoping to get drunk and get thrown in jail so I wouldn't have to race in this dumb race with you."
Carl raised one eyebrow. Spit it out, Emma. What are you really trying to say? I mean, if you didn't wanna race, you shoulda said something. Well, anyways, it's too late now. We'll be up and rolling before you know it. And you're gonna have the ride of your life!"

Carl rolled forward on the crowded main street of Ensenada, which was blocked off for the start. Only one truck was in front of him... and then it was gone, accompanied by a chirping from the rear tires on the pavement.
Carl smiled a crafty smile. That's a start? Hellsfire, he'd show them a start! After all, he had a 454 under the hood, and it wasn't a stocker, nosirree, not by a long shot.
The starter waved The Whale forward and Carl inched up carefully, put it in neutral and rapped the healthy motor a few times. Impressive, yes indeed, even the causal observer could sense that.
The starter pointed the flag at Carl, and indicated with his fingers that ten seconds were left. Carl depressed the clutch, and revved the engine: five, four, three, two, one! Carl let the clutch and smashed the gas pedal. The engine screamed and the tach leaped for the red zone.

And The Whale stayed right where it was.

Vehicles tend to do that when they're in neutral.

Carl looked down sheepishly, and then slammed the shifter into gear, then let the clutch go. The Whale lurched backward and slammed into a Toyota 4-Runner directly in line behind Carl. The sound of breaking glass and bending metal was clear and loud.
Whoops!
Carl quickly yanked the shifter out of reverse, put it in low, the punched the throttle again. One entire bumper and half of the grill was ripped off the Toyota and both awnings on The Whale unfolded from the impact and rolled out to full extension. Carl thought he ought to get out and hook the awnings back up, but a glance in the rear view mirror showed an angry driver getting out and waving his fist.
Now seemed like a good time to leave. Carl wondered why the Toyota driver was so upset. Hey, he thought, racing is racing, and you can't whine over a little incident.
Carl looked over to the right side. Emma had her face covered up with both hands and her knees were clapping each other like one of those little toy wind-up monkeys you get at the carnivals. Carl sighed. Some people just weren't cut out for racing.

The first part was simple and easy... just paved roads and streets leading away from the town of Ensenada, but Carl knew that some real off-roading was coming up. Now would be a good time to calm Emma down before they got to the rough stuff.
"Emma? Honey-pot? Why don't you whip out that there rally map and see what pace we gotta maintain to win this here rally?"
Emma let out a pitiful moan.
"Hey, you feelin' worse dear?"
Emma shook her head from side to side. "No. It's just that you left the rally map and times back in the hotel room."
Carl sighed. "Well, never you mind, honey-pot. We're gonna do just fine. Way I figure it is this: most of the people in this here event ain't even gonna finish it. I got everything under control."
Emma looked out of the window at both awnings flapping in the breeze like some sort of giant prehistoric pterodactyl, and wondered if, indeed, ANYTHING, was under control!

***

What will happen when they hit the dirt? Stay tuned, because next month we'll join Carl and Emma in the thick of battle. Sends shivvers up my spine just thinking about it!
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
so what happened?
we made it back


details it ran, went slowly, made a log-truck's day, have a few things to do and still need to finish it.
So I left Thursday morning for a 1 1/2 hour drive to Plain Washington. Took 2 1/2. Climbing 5000 feet went very slowly because it would get warm and I'd stop and let it cool. By the end, I was in low range going 5 mph. Likely issue is the pump is the wrong pump... when I did the work on the motor, I was told a place did the work on it - and they were experts. They may be experts who never saw it, or maybe idiots who need their tools relocated to save others. The pump is, I suspect, a 1/2 ton pump. That's a quick 10 hp loss. Then there was the timing. They had it very wrong and I fixed it. Which helped it go faster (probably wouldn't have made the top if I hadn't do that bit). But what I also think they did was they reduced the pump pressure. I go no smoke, not even at WOT, hot and on a climb.... to me that means they turned the pressure down rather then up. That would cause the overheating because it would be running lean. Normally, after a turbo install, you turn the pressure up to get more fuel.... then you get a bit of black smoke.... no big deal, not a cloud, just so black at full throttle....

On the way back, things were better because I wasn't starting at 400 feet above sea level, but nearly 2500 and the pass is 4500. Still, I have many bad words to say about the camper who let people past then cut me off at the bottom of a climb because she didn't want to be stuck behind me....yeah.... she added 30 minutes to my drive. How do I know her? well after me using her as a wind break and laying on my horn she got the idea and moved so I could pass.... of course, by then the damage was done.... still, it worked very well. The bed is great, the insulation helped, I had an electric heater the last night but didn't need it, the refridge is absolutely awesome, the solar panels kept the batteries fully charged. wheeling was awesome.

It was a good trip.

I'll post a general trip overview in a more appropriate place.
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
Update goes like this:

In a couple weeks, I'll take the rig to a shop to turn up the pump. Between now and then I'll do a filter swap and change the lift pump. On top of that, I'm changing filters - I really dislike the square filters because they're such a pain to swap. Not just that but I think the housing on this one has issues (which could, actually, be part of the problem)...
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
WANDERS # 21




THE AGONY OF VICTORY AT THE BAJA 500 SAFARI RALLY

By Rick Sieman







When we last left Carl and Emma, they had just started in the Baja 500 Safari, an event held in conjunction with the Baja 500 off-road race. The Safari is a timed event, but run on the same course that the racers compete on. Carl, much to Emma's dismay, had entered The Whale in the event. Their start was less than auspicious, as Carl backed into the truck behind him when the flag dropped, and had both awnings unroll on a fast road section. We join them now as they are pulled off the side of the road, and putting the
remains of the awnings in the cavernous interior of The Whale.

***

"OK, Emma. I got the awnings stuffed inside. How much time did we lose doing that?"
"Emma glanced at her Timex. "About five minutes, dear. It's a good thing they didn't blow away."
Carl grunted and spit a blast of tobacco juice at a lizard standing on a rock about ten feet away. The last half of the lizards tail got coated with the brown substance, and it quickly darted away, no doubt doing its own version of lizard-swearing.
"Well then, we just gotta make up some time before we get into the dirt. It's gonna be pedal to the metal, hammer-down all the way, red-line city, full-throttle, torque-twistin'..."
"Carl, just shut up and drive, please. And try not to kill us.”

Carl fired up and lurched off with a chirp from the tires. Then a frown covered his face, and he screeched to a halt. He put The Whale into reverse and chirped the tires once again, then squealed to another halt. "Sorry about that, Emma. Guess I forgot about you. Hop in, Honey Pot."
Emma sighed. "Actually, I would have been better off standing there alongside the road. The worst that could have happened would be that I would get robbed and killed. With you at the wheel, were probably gonna get lost and then you'll kill us both when you drive off a cliff, and then we'll be dead AND lost!"
Carl looked up at the sky. "Emma, just git back in the seat, and I promise I'll drive real careful and never race again. After this one, that is."
Emma sniffled and reluctantly got in the passenger seat. "Promise?"
"Promise!" said Carl, while keeping his hands behind his back, so Emma couldn't see his fingers crossed.

A few miles later, they peeled off the narrow paved road onto a narrower dirt road that was hard-packed and riddled with rain ruts. Evil looking cactus and foreboding rocks lined the edges of much of the road... if you could call it a road.

Carl drove quite well, holding a brisk pace, but taking no chances. The ride in The Whale was quite comfortable, with the exception of the awnings jumping around in the back and the goldfish getting slopped out of his (her?) fish bowl twice.

A checkpoint popped up around a turn and Carl idled into the lane. A checker dropped a stub in his stub can, and wrote down his time. "How am I doing?" asked Carl.
"Number 27? You're about two minutes off your pace. Not bad. At least you're not burning the check like some of those maniacs.
"Burning?"
"Yeah. That's when you come in too early. Cost's you double points."
Carl thought this over for a second. “Hokey-dokey. Thanks for the info. Say, you ain't ain't got another map, do ya? We sort of left ours back at the hotel."
The lady gave Carl and map and waved them off with a big smile. "Hot damn, Emma! Now we're in business again. I want you to study that map while I make up some of those lost two minutes."

***

Carl got on the gas hard for the next half hour and passed a number of other vehicles, some of them broken down alongside the course, or changing flat tires.
Emma yelled over the sound of the engine: "Dear, there's a thing coming up called an "EITHER-OR" section. If you take the long way, it's easy... and if you take the short way, it's hard."
Carl gave a fiendish smile. "There's no choice, Emma. We take the short way and pick up some serious time. That's what it's all about. The challenge of man and machine against nature and the natural. How much further 'till the "NEITHER-NOR" section?"
"A few more miles, dear."

For the next few miles, Carl climbed steadily upward. The narrow road twisted and turned as it climbed, with an alarming drop-off on the passengers side and a near-vertical wall on the drivers side.
Near the summit of the climb, Carl saw a sign that said, LONG WAY/SHORT WAY, with two arrows pointing. Without even thinking, Carl took the SHORT WAY turn and promptly regretted ever being born. He was going down an almost vertical hill!
He nailed the brakes and it made absolutely no difference. Emma let out a horrifying shriek! "We're gonna diiiiiiieeeeee! ! !"
Carl white-knuckled the steering wheel and concentrated on trying to survive. On the way down, he had to dodge a few deep ruts, rocks and gnarly bushes, but the truck didn't want to turn. Then he remembered an article he'd read a few years ago, and gave the throttle a little nudge, and lo and behold, The Whale responded! Carl made a mental note to re-subscribe to the magazine if he lived through this.

The Whale picked up speed and plummeted down the hill at a truly frightening rate. At one point, Carl noted that the speedo read 62 miles per hour, and he thought it was weird to be breaking the speed limit while pointed nearly straight downward. Then, oddly, the hill started flattening out. Just a little at first, then more... until at last, Carl found that he was on level ground.
It was then that he realized that the hill was nowhere near as dangerous as it looked. The huge run-off area made it relatively safe, in spite of its fearsome appearance. Carl got to the flat land and let out a sigh. "Emma? You can relax now. We're at the bottom and we're not even close to being dead. Emma? Don't bite the dash like that. You're liable to get vinyl poisoning, or something like that."
Emma emitted a small moan and slumped back in the seat. "Carl, I think I might take up sky diving when we get back to the states, just to calm my nerves down. Let me tell you one thing, buster! If you ever take me down another hill like that, I will break all of your fishing rods and run off with the first band of gypsies I meet!"
Carl got a puzzled look on his face: "So what are you saying, Emma?"
"Carl!"
"Yes, dear."

***

Some time later, Carl rolled into another check. "How am I doin' ?"
"Well, you are a whole bunch early. How'd you manage to move up through the pack so quick?"
"I went down that hill back there and took the short cut."
The check worker let out a low whistle. "Wow! Nobody has been going down that hill except for a few of the crazier racers, and they've come in all pasty-faced and shakin'!"
Carl put on a smug smile: "Shaking? From that itty-bitty hill? You gotta be kidding? Why I could go down that thing three times and up it four while tuning in a good station on the radio and eatin' a tuna fish sandwhich. It's a piece a' cake."
The check worker shook his head from side to side. "Mister, you're a lot braver than you look. Gotta hand it to you. Too bad you lost so many points by coming in early. Actually, you're the first Safari Rally truck through here."
Carl waved goodbye to the checker and proceeded down the course, which was getting rougher and rougher. He kept up a good pace, not really having any ideas of whether or not he was on schedule.

A few miles later, The Whale veered hard to the right and whacked a bush with a course marking ribbon hanging on it. The ribbon came off and wrapped around the antenna. Then the truck darted to the left side a few minutes later. Carl picked up more ribbon, this time it wrapped around his mirror.

After another half-dozen brushes with the bushes, he realized that something was wrong. Carl got out, did an inspection under the truck, then grabbed a front tire and wiggled it. Whoops! The wheel bearings were loose. Real loose. Perhaps even shot.
Carl yelled into the cab. "Hey, Emma! How far is it till we get to that check point/pit that's on the stretch of highway. No way do I want to work on the wheel bearings in this deep sand."
Emma peered at the map and ran a chubby forefinger over the indicated route. "About 30 miles, dear. Do you think you can make it that far?"
"Yeah. Long as I don't hear any grinding or see any smoke. Of course, the handling ain't gonna be too great. It's gonna take all of my driving skills - which are considerable - just to keep The Whale between the trees."

***

For the next hour, Carl wobbled and weaved down the trail, banging into bushes, weeds tree branches. In the process, he collected hundreds of feet of red and white course marker ribbon.
Eventually, they got to the highway section and Carl jacked the front end up into the air. Forty five minutes later, he had the wheel bearings replaced and wiped his greasy hands on a red shop rag. "How many Safari trucks passed us by while I worked on the truck, Emma?"
"Why, none dear."
"How could that be? Hells fire, we been down for nearly an hour. Well, that ain't my worry. Let's get goin', woman. We got us a race to run!"

***

For the balance of the race, Carl drove conservatively, and almost lulled Emma into relaxing. Eventually, many hours later, they idled into the town of Ensenada and crossed the finish line. When asking, Carl found out that no other Safari Rally entries had finished yet. Carl and Emma went to their hotel, showered, then went to a restaurant for a meal.

They then went back to the finish line to check the results. Oddly enough, there were still no other Safari Rally finishers. Carl shrugged his shoulders and went back to the hotel to catch some sleep.

***

The next day, all the results were posted, and lo and behold, Carl was the overall winner of the Safari Rally. In fact, he was the only finisher. Even as they were looking at the results sheet, a Safari Rally truck drove into town, with the driver looking very upset. He ran up to the race officials and started yelling and waving his arms. Carl sidled in closer to hear what was being said: "...were doing just fine, then right around mile 150, all of the course markers disappeared. Nothing. Not one piece of ribbon. It's as if someone went out there and took everything down. I spent half the time getting un-lost and the other half trying to get directions. There are Safari Rally trucks all over the place trying to find out where they are and where they're supposed to be. I tell you, I've never been so..."
Carl walked over, got Emma by the arm and gently pulled her away from the hubbub of activity at the finish line area. "Emma, let's go get us something to eat. I hate to hang around bad sports. Sorta takes the edge off a sweet victory. We'll come back and get our trophy later in the day."
Emma gave Carl a funny look, but chose to say nothing, which often is the mark of a wise woman.

***

Next month. Heading north.
 

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