Trans America Trail: A month's journey in a 96 Jeep XJ.

[NHenson]

Thanks to all of our readers for your comments. Here is the next installment of the Trans America Trail. Our third week of travel starts in 2010 at Lake City, CO, where we left off the trail the previous summer.

TAT III Day 1: Wednesday, July 7, 2010

This will probably be short, because I’m cold. My fingers are too numb to type properly, so I keep having to correct my spelling. We are camped at 12,415 ft. near Cinnamon Pass in the Rockies up from Lake City, CO. It has been a long day, and I am just about ready for bed.

We stayed last night at Stephanie’s (and some of us at Kenyon’s) in Denver. Steph is as great as ever, and I finally met her much-beloved Buddy. Kenyon introduced us to Ethiopian food for supper last night, and we enjoyed using nothing more than the injara (injera?) for utensils. Then NH and Carl split for Kenyon’s, and I went home with Stephanie. We, of course, stayed up too late talking, and then tried to get up early enough to go out for breakfast and leave by 7:00. We had moderate success. We could have left by 7:20, but we were having such a good time that we decided a few minutes wouldn’t make a difference, and we left Denver maybe around 8:00.

This is the first TAT (Trans America Trail) trip where more people than NH and I have gone along. Carl came with us all the way from Idaho; Morris met us in Lake City and will be around for a day or two more, and Caleb and his wife will be joining us in Moab. Naturally, this makes things a little more complicated, but the first complication actually turned out to be more benefit than detriment—we towed the Jeep behind Carl’s truck and saved almost half the gas money. Also, we enjoyed the drive with Carl. In fact, the only detriment that I know of (other than a few overly-zealous games of “slug bug”) was this morning, when we discovered that NH had, after a disconnect/reconnect situation at Kenyon’s, left the parking brake on. For a good 5-10 miles. So that situation slowed us down a bit.

I don’t remember what else happened to slow us down, but what was supposed to be an arrival at noon into Lake City was pushed to 3:00. To be expected, of course. Fortunately, Morris is a very laid-back traveler, so he was cool as a cucumber when we arrived.

Day 1 Carl's Chevy, Nathan's Jeep, & Morris' Pinz​

And now, on to the good stuff. Once we finally left (Lake City), we quickly ascended up increasingly beautiful trail. Rocky, bumpy, washed-out, and otherwise slow going, but so beautiful as to make a 30 minute detour/wrong turn well worth it. Let me just recommend, if you ever have the chance to drive, ride, or hike up into American Basin, do it. We viewed sharp crags dappled with sun and snow, green hills, waterfalls coming down every side of the basin, and wildflowers blooming everywhere. Plus, a cow moose and her twin calves, three marmots, and lots of chipmunks.

It was cool to see a moose and her twin calves.


American Basin. A definite repeat experience if we ever get back to that part of Colorado.​

We had to turn around out of the basin to get back on the trail, and after a bit of back-tracking, including our first big creek crossing, we continued climbing. We are in mining country and have passed several ruined mines—not sure if they’re for gold, silver, or other resources, but they’re old. We are camping just off the trail in view of two. I’ll post pics with the view from our campsite—let me just say that it is majestic enough to make finding a secluded bathroom-spot pretty challenging.

Carl crossing a creek.



Night 1 Camp. This was at about 12,500 ft. All of us woke in the morning to different levels of effects from the altitude.​

We decided to camp here in part because of level parking places and the aforementioned view, and in part because just as we were pausing to decide whether or not we should camp here, we heard a pop followed by a loud hiss of escaping air. Then another. Both the air suspension bags had deflated. NH investigated while I cooked supper (linguine al caponata, yum yum) and found that the hoses connecting the airbags to the gauge had melted because of their placement too close to the hot floor pan above the exhaust. Grimace. Sigh. Lesson learned. And NH managed to make a fix of it for the rest of the week, so all should be well. We hope…

Erin with some yummy food.​

More tomorrow. It’s cold now, but I understand the weather should reach 99 or higher once we hit the desert, so I’ll probably complain more of heat later. Advance apologies. - EH

 

[NHenson]

Subscribed and waiting patiently for updates. The wife and I have already decided to run the TAT. Thanks! :jump:

That is cool that you want to do the TAT. PM me if you would like further information, or just jump in and ask questions here on the thread.

Love the write up. Can't wait for more.

Thanks for reading. . .more to come.

 

[nat]

Very enjoyable read!

 

[skibum315]

.. jump in at the end of the story and we can discuss more on this thread.

Unless there's detail you'd prefer to have discussed offline, I'd love to see/participate in the discussion as well (as appropriate, of course) ... this is a trip I'd love to attempt, but I have some work to do before the better half is convinced the whole thing would be fun - I think I could readily talk her into sections, so maybe a trip split up the way you guys did could be a good compromise.

 

[NHenson]

TAT III Day 2: Thursday, July 8, 2010

Last night, after supper, Morris made a couple of comments hoping that the weather would stay calm—a mountain storm can come quickly and be dangerously vicious. We hoped the same, but were not so worried as to suggest packing up and moving when it was already so late. We all went to bed.

Some time later, I feel like it was a couple of hours, NH and I woke in empty black to the sounds of rain and sleet peppering the top of our tent, and of the wind ripping at the side awnings. NH woke up enough to batten down one of the awnings, but soon I was worried that the wind might get worse. The rooftop tent, for all of its excellent benefits, does have much the same effect on top of the Jeep as a sail might. We did not want to go sailing down the mountain. I worriedly suggested that we move downstairs for the night, and NH gave in to my badgering. Poor fellow, he was the one who had to stand out in the driving wind and sleet taking down the tent, while I sat in the Jeep being handed sleeping bags and the small poles that hold out the awnings. We were particularly glad that the rooftop tent is so easy to set up and take down.

Just as we settled into the front seats for a good night's sleep, the rain and wind quit. Complete calm. Of course.

Needless to say, last night's sleep was not as fulfilling as it might have been. NH woke up at 5:45 (I know, I didn't think it was possible either) and decided to go out and chat with the guys. I stayed inside for another half hour or so of sleep. Ah, wishful thinking. Carl had been stricken in the night with what appeared to be a killer case of altitude sickness and wanted to get down the mountain as quickly as possible. While both NH and I were ruefully thinking that the altitude was going to get worse before it would get better, we set off almost immediately in hopes of ending Carl's agony as soon as possible.

Carl's truck at sunrise.


This morning was still plenty cool and the insulated coveralls felt good.​

I will skip much of the morning's journeyings—looking back, they seem arduous. Mostly because Carl was driving like one half-dead, and Morris was beginning to feel increasing discomfort from the intensely bumpy road (he was still recovering from a recent surgery). Also, we met far too many enthusiastic off-roaders in rented Jeeps who didn't seem to know the rules of travel (uphill has right of way, etc.).

California Pass was one of the highest that we crossed. 12,930 ft.


Morris' Pinz on top of one of the passes in CO. You can see the mining that has stripped the hills in the background.​

By the time we reached Ophir, Morris was ready to bid us adieu. He will camp there tonight and make his way comfortably home. Carl, too, was seeking any sort of respite from driving—or really, from anything other than being horizontal. We tricked him (sorry, Carl, I really did think the topo map indicated low altitude) into following us ten more miles on some of the most intense switchbacks yet until we were able to get gas at Telluride. There we decided that Carl would take highways to Monticello, UT and wait for us in a motel while we took the trail.

Trail scenery.


Still some snow banks next to the trail.​

NH and I enjoyed some lovely gravel roads, cobblestone “Jeep road,” mud that almost slid us off the road and down the hill, and an enormous switchback made up of smaller switchbacks down the last mountain. For the solitude from so many rented Jeeps and ATVs alone, the trail between Telluride and Monticello was pleasing. Also, we passed from Alpine tundra, through high forests where tall, narrow pines grew to just beneath the crowns of towering aspens, down to mountain meadows and finally lush deciduous forests with cattle wandering between the trees.

ATV style trail between Telluride and Monticello.​

I was struck today by the slow pace travelling up and down washed-out mountain roads—what struck me most was passing so many ruined timber mine shafts. How many pioneers a hundred years ago were so eager to make money selling silver or gold or whatever, that they would spend what must have been weeks travelling from civilization to remote mountainsides? We breakfasted in Animas Forks this morning, a ghost town that makes a good example of dedicated money-hunger. Every summer, up to 450 miners, families, and other entrepreneurs populated a town that, for us, was reachable only after topping a couple of 12,000+ ft. passes. Even for those not driving the Trans-America Trail, Animas Forks is reachable in modern times only by roads whose navigability is arguable. Yet between the late 1880's and sometime early in the 1920's, Animas Forks was a real town. I walked its two rutted dirt streets slowly, tracing the remains of houses, wondering about the people who lived there. Where did they move back to every winter? How long did it take them to get to Animas Forks, and how early in the year did they come? How secluded were their lives, and how much did they revolve around mining? Was it worth it? Well, they woke up to the sun rising over those same peaks, shadowing green hills and painted dots of wildflowers all summer long. Maybe it was.

View on Google Maps
Animas Forks, CO


Old two story house in Animas Forks, CO. This guy must have been the rich one. This was the only two-story dwelling in the town.

​

NH and I reached Monticello just after 5:00 this afternoon. We joined Carl at the motel where he had already gotten lodging—and is now wondering if it's not just plain old flu. Is fever a symptom of altitude sickness? We met up with Caleb and Jennifer here, too. We will set out for Moab and continuing north/northwest in the morning. - EH

 

[Lykos]

Love this thread! I too have a XJ. Do you have a page describing your XJs modifications?


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[Lecoq]

Amazing! Thank you for sharing.

 

[NHenson]

Love this thread! I too have a XJ. Do you have a page describing your XJs modifications?

I'll work on getting one started. In the meantime, feel free to ask questions.

Unless there's detail you'd prefer to have discussed offline, I'd love to see/participate in the discussion as well (as appropriate, of course) ... this is a trip I'd love to attempt, but I have some work to do before the better half is convinced the whole thing would be fun - I think I could readily talk her into sections, so maybe a trip split up the way you guys did could be a good compromise.

Go ahead and ask away. . . I would enjoy discussing this with any of you.

 

[NHenson]

TAT III Day 3: Friday, July 9, 2010

NH and I, Caleb and Jennifer, and Carl are all camped somewhere just above Devil’s Basin (or some such ominous name). The sky is clearing, I see a couple of stars, and we are the only other sources of light in what would be called a meadow if we weren't in the desert.

I figure I should probably introduce a couple characters of this part of the story. All are members of the Northwest Overland Society. Caleb & Jen (driving an Isuzu)


Carl (driving a full size Chevy)​

We traveled today from Monticello, Utah, via mostly very nice dirt roads, up and back down a mountain, past Slickrock and the Lion’s Back, and into Moab. The entire drive was beautiful. We saw a doe and her twin fawns in the aspen forest coming back down the mountain. We ogled the smooth rock formations near Moab, NH wishing he might climb them all.

These little guys were crossing the road with mom just as we came up the road. One of them scrambled up the bank and if you look close, the other one is lying flat in the small ditch.


Roadway scenery.​

Carl drove on the highway to Moab (I don’t remember why, but I don’t think any of the story hangs on that detail), and we met him there after eating our lunch and walking to the local post office to mail our room key back to the Monticello Inn. Oops.

From Moab, we drove mostly gravel roads and a few crazy washouts to Green River, where we stopped to run several errands. From there, the real fun began.

Spectacular canyons near Moab, UT​

Just outside (west? northwest?) of Green River, Sam’s maps instructed us to get on I-70. To travel on interstate as part of the trail is unheard-of, but I convinced NH that the roll-chart, when it said “ramp to I-70,” meant that we were actually getting on the freeway. A couple of miles later we were instructed to turn off the interstate, not by taking an exit ramp, but just making a right-hand turn onto a gravel road. We did, and it felt rebellious.

The gravel road, after some circuitous trails, led us into a breath-taking canyon. The walls wrapped around in interlocking curves with walls so high that we had to crane our necks to see sky. Let me just say that, once we left Moab, the temperature began to go from warm to unbearably hot. I sucked down three liters of water in quick succession, just trying to keep up with the heat. But once we descended into the canyon, the temperature must have dropped ten degrees. It was beautiful.

Canyon walls looming over our heads.


This was my sun protection since I like to drive with the window down and don't like how sticky sun screen feels when bedding down for the night.​

It was also challenging. We were essentially following a dry riverbed, sandy silt strewn with rocks ranging in size from basketball-size to townhouse-size. The trail, sometimes a gravel or sand road, crossed, intersected, and sometimes was said riverbed. We navigated the trail as carefully as we could, but still both Carl’s running boards were crunched. Also, the technical driving was slow. It took us three hours to travel some six miles. The canyon part was beautiful, but it only lasted a mile or less. The rest was a less-rewarding (and hotter) traverse up what had become ravine that wound between hills and buttes.

Crunching Carl's running boards in the canyon.


Caleb & Jen at the same place as Carl, but with better clearance.​

I think we took a wrong turn in there somewhere. Daylight waning, and a 60% chance of rain put us in an interesting juxtaposition—we should not drive after dark, and we would not camp in a dry riverbed with such a chance of rain—if not flashfloods, the rain might at least make the trail impassible, with us stuck down in the ravine.

We pressed on, and had the good luck to stumble upon a road that took us rather quickly back to the trail. While we have not got quite clear of washouts leading down to the river (this far out, it is now a real river, not just a dry riverbed), we are camped on a section of road that is on high ground. We feel safe and happy to be getting supper and beds.

Out of the canyon and camping on high ground. It had been a full day (read hot and slow), but we enjoyed sharing the evening with friends and like-minded travel companions.​

Carl is serving everyone Häagen-Dazs ice cream (yes, he has been carrying ice cream on dry ice all the way down here). There were a few sprinkles of rain, but nothing worth worrying over here. And it brought on a beautiful rainbow. I am very tired and will write more tomorrow. - EH

 

[Ryanmb21]

Really cool thread!

 

[k9lestat]

great read subscribed.

 

[Bad Hair Day]

Great thread I'm 37 yrs old and I was hoping to do the TAT on a bike for my 40th b-day. Now I'm thinking about doing it in my jeep. :beer:

Sent from my SPH-L720 using Tapatalk 2

 

[jeremyk]

Great write up!

Subscribing to this one for future reference...

 

[ol' scott]

I've been patient for 10 days now. Where is the next installment?

 

[82fb]

I've been patient for 10 days now. Where is the next installment?

Nathan, you out on a fire or what? Your public is getting impatient!