One Full Plate

Expedition Vehicles- Spied

This was a super cool landcruiser camper that we spotted in Joshua Tree back in May, 2008.  It was diesel powered and I didn't recognize the plates, some of the decals led me to believe that it began life in Italy.  Unfortunately it was headed out of the campground and I couldn't talk to the older couple driving it.

Note the little pop-up roof for standing room, the smallish windows, and the sand ladders strapped to the back.  Different lot, those Euros.  But its cool to see such unique and rugged vehicles being driven apparently by retirees on sort of a high-adventure, autumn-years-walkabout.  I can think of worse ways to spend retirement.

They were travelling with another Euro camper truck- something that resembed a Sprinter (Iveco, maybe?) but it was down the road before I could snap a picture.

He Is Basil

That's Basil, as in Rathbone, not basil, like the herb.  We snatched him from amongst the pit bulls at the humane society, had him fixed and brought him home.  (Footnote: "fixed" is a euphamism for something much worse, and which implies that he was broken, but he wasn't, but now he is.) 

You will not usually see him as he is below.  Normally he is tearing around the house or yard at high speed, chasing or being chased by a young girl.  But you can never get a photo of him like that, so here he is in a state of exhaustion:

He's a standard poodle mixed with something- some say Cocker Spaniel, but I don't see it.  He's 6 months old, and we're not sure how big he's going to get.

Notice I keep saying "he?"  Its true, I'm not the only dude in the house anymore.  He even waters the grass on 3 legs, which is better than seated.  Of course, being a poodle, he still looks like a girl.  But he's got an epic name, which makes up for it.

Sunrise

Sunrise in Anza Borrego, December 20, 2008, with my home for the night. 

Goat Canyon Trestle Expedition

On December 19-21 I joined a group camping in the Anza Borrego desert and hiking to the Goat Canyon Trestle.  The trestle is supposedly the longest and tallest wooden railroad trestle in the country (or world?).  Anyway, its freeeeking huge, and very difficult to get to.  The Carizzo Gorge Railway (CZRY) has control over the tracks and railway, and the interweb is chock full of outlaw trips to the trestle, as well as promises of trespassing citations and arrests.  Before we left, someone even posted a warning that the rail line was active, and we risked getting run over by a train if we explored the tunnels.  A lot of baloney, as we would find out.

 

The group camp on Friday afternoon.  Several more rigs would arrive before the night was over.

 

 

 

This is the "trail."  Prior trip reports described it as a "moderate" hike.  On that imaginary scale, "difficult" must be a 100' plunge onto rocks.  Out of 13 participants, only around 8 made it all the way to the trestle.  The rest judged either that the risks outweighed the reward, or that their pace would prevent them from returning to camp before nightfall.  One stopped midway due to injuries to her dog's paws. 

 

 

 

 

Poor Peanut here did the cha-cha with a chola cactus and took a few dozen thorns in his paws and mouth.  I pulled at least a dozen spikes out of his hind legs and others took his front end.  He made it back safely, and will probably get a trip to the vet to tend to his tongue.

 

 

More "trail."  That white stuff is what happens when it rains when it is really, really cold.  They call it "snow."  I'm told that it is common in other parts of the country.

 

 

 

 

Believe it or not, this photo was taken in a location a good solid hour's hike away from the trestle itself.  The last stretch involved scampering, bouldering, sliding and falling down several hundred vertical feet of loose rock.

 

 

 

 

Here's the the reason for all the fuss.

 

 

 

Hey look, they built that tunnel crooked!

This was supposedly "plan A."  They were going to build a long tunnel and a short trestle, but mid-construction the tunnel collapsed.  So they built a short tunnel and long trestle further down the canyon.  Since they abandoned it, gravity has done its work.

 

Without human beings in the frame, its hard to see grasp how big the trestle is.  There are a couple folks in there, if you look closely.

 

 

 

 

The catwalks start off in wooden planks. . .

 

 

 

And change to steel mesh.  I don't care who you are, if you aren't unnerved by walking on a window screen 200 feet off the deck, you don't have a brain.

 

 

 

This was one of the mysteries we encountered.  A CZRY rail truck was partially buried in rubble at the entrance to a tunnel.  Hand tools were scattered around, and it was obvious that those involved bailed out in a hurry.  Probably so they wouldn't get turned into paste by more falling rocks.

 

 

The truck looked perfectly driveable, save a dead battery, despite the rubble.  Although it had seen the recent rains, it probably hadn't been in this condition for more than a week or two.

 

 

They even left the keys in the ignition. 

We speculated that workmen came out in two trucks, someone got bonked with a rock in the middle of a job, and everyone else rushed out to evacuate him.  Why else would they have left it like this?

And yes, of course I tried to start it.  It would have been cool to drive home!

 

 

Naysayers tried to tell us that the rail line was active and that we risked getting run over by a train if we walked the track.

 

 

 

The tunnel isn't really that big, Jamie is only 3 feet, 4 inches tall.

 

 

 

Jamie thought he might get bored, so he brought some old magazine to read.

 

 

 

 

That'll buff right out.

 

 

 

 

Jamie and I took a different route back to camp, and came across what looked like a primive structure flooded with water.  That circle is a 55 gallon drum submerged to the rim.

 

 

 

Right next to the rock house was a more modern concrete foundation, purpose unknown.

Inyo Mountains- Salt Tram Expedition

Over the weekend of October 3-5, 2008, D1, D2 and I travelled up to Lone Pine to explore the long-abandoned Salt Tram.  It seems at around 1912, entrepreneurs built an ariel tramway to transport salt from the remote Saline Lake over the Inyo Mountains to the railroad at Owens Lake.  It was the largest project of its kind, and was profitable until cheaper sources of salt were discovered.  The tram is now abandoned, but many of the support towers and cables are intact.  Our destination was the Tramkeeper's cabin located at the summit, and the changeover station where the salt buckets would reach the end of their uphill trip and turn to go down the other side. 

In order to reach the tramkeeper's cabin, we had to traverse a four-wheel-drive trail across the ridgeline from the ghost town of Cerro Gordo.  A very, uh, interesting drive, if loose rock, steep dropoffs, impossible uphill and downhill sections interest you.  They do!

 

Here's the group- like minded historians and four-wheel drive folks.

 

 

 

The Tramkeeper's Cabin- our home for the night.  D1 and D2 enjoy a midafternoon snack on the south porch.

The Salt Tram Transfer Station. Its in pretty good condition, but the sheet metal panels which would have made the walls have long since been stripped off.  The timbers and planks are in good shape also, some having been recently replaced.

 

 

There are catwalks that go down each downhill side- a pretty good dropoff on either side but no problem for sured footed mountain goats with pink camelbaks.

 

 

 

 

The electrical pit.  Big electric motors were installed down here to drive the pulleys which pulled the cables up the mountain and down the other side.

 

 

 

I'm told that my hat is very cool.

 

 

 

 

Rabbit ears never get old.  In the background is the tramkeeper's cabin.

 

Aspiring photographer.

 

 

This is the overlook to Saline Valley, and Death Valley beyond.  There was a huge storm in the area which pounded Death Valley with rain and lightning all afternoon.  It put on quite a show for us in the distance. 

  

Sunset only made things prettier. 

 

 

 

The road out on Sunday morning.  This is one of those photos that I looked at afterward and couldn't believe it was the same white knuckle road we had driven in and out.  The slippery shale surface, narrow roadbed and sheer dropoff were attention getters, especially when it went off-camber towards the downhill.  It was all a psychological thrill; I knew that I was chickening out long before the Bronco would fail.

 

I have about a million photos like this.  Every view you see is better than the last.

 

 

 

The ghost town of Cerro Gordo.  A lot of precious metals came out of this place.

Have I ever let this thing slide!

So it turns out that I really don't have time to be sharp and clever on a blog. . . please be patient, I'll upload when I can.  It's not that nothing is happening, just the opposite.  I'll try to catch up over the Holidays.

Back!

  Here’s my solution for a heavy duty backup light and work light for offroading and camping.  It’s made from a telescoping paint roller handle and a generic tractor light.  When the tire carrier is open, it can shine down on the tailgate, or along the passenger side of the vehicle.  It’s tall enough to be well overhead when extended, to stay out of your eyes while working.

 

It would be much cleaner to mount it using welded-on tabs instead of U-bolts, but that will have to wait for now.  Also, I'll wire it to a switch on the dashboard at some point.  For now, its simply wired to a toggle on the light housing.  Good for a work light, not so good for a backup light.

 

 

Expedition!

The day before father’s day, after the swim meet, D1, D2 and I packed into the Bronco and headed north for the Owen’s Valley, home of Lone Pine, old mines, pizza, and all sorts of adventure.  We arrived in Lone Pine Saturday evening, checked into the Dow Villa motel and headed across to the Pizza place for some dinner.

 

Side note:  when travelling with kids, feed them constantly.  Snacks, full meals, dessert, the rules do not apply like they do at home.  Feed them what they like, and feed them a lot.  Our girls turn into Linda Blair when they are hungry, so we don’t let it go there.

Sunday morning brought a quick trip to Manzanar Japanese Internment camp.

  

Including some wierd little beetles- keys to show their size:

Then a dirt road jaunt across the Valley to the Reward mine, an old mine site that’s not on all maps, and isn’t entirely visible from the main road.  Here’s what you can see:  A couple of old hoppers and water tanks.

 

Here’s what you can’t see from the road:  The maw of the mountain:

 

D1 quickly labelled this place the “Freak Out Mine,” and for good reason.  This place is incredible- it's like the mountain is opening its mouth and beckoning you inside.  From research I’d learned that you can supposedly drive your truck into the mine for about a quart of a mile until the tunnel opens up into a room where you can turn around.  If you’re brave or drunk.  We, one dad, one 8 year old and one 6 year old, were not brave or drunk.  I had visions of the fuel pump giving out in the belly of the mountain a quarter mile from the opening and 12 miles from the nearest paved road.  One of those stories you read about on the news and think “that guy is a bad dad.”

Instead, we left the truck outside, had our little safety huddle, armed up with no less than 5 flashlights (2 spares), and headed into the mine on foot.  That, it seems is easier said than done.  You see, at some point in every mine, you get to the point where you can’t see the entrance behind you, and it hits you:  the sunlight is gone, the sound is gone, it’s cold, and you really get the feeling that You_Shouldn’t_Be_Here.

D1’s self preservation instinct kicked in first, my own wasn’t far behind.  D2 was full of beans, and perhaps smelled blood in the water with D1, because she would have charged forward full speed.  Here's D1, literally forcing a smile.

This is what we left behind:

Needless to say, we retreated back to the entrance and futzed around with the relics and stuff scattered about.  Further down the hill we discovered the miners recycling bin- they must not have bothered to haul all the bean cans off to cash them in.

Mmmm, beans.

 

Mmmm, cans.

Are we having fun?

 

Sharp, and/or Pointy Things

It’s something every parent struggles with.  You WANT them to have the skills they’ll need to survive stranded on a desert island, in school or in prison, but how?  HOW?!?!?!

 

To help young kids build skills with objects that can be dangerous, they need fairly safe gear and lots of supervision.  “Fairly Safe” means, in D1’s case "My First Victorinox" 

 

Its got a sharp blade but a blunt point.  So while it’s possible to slice yourself, stabbing is rather difficult.  Now doesn’t that make you feel better?  It doesn’t have some of the more “fun” tools of a swiss knife like scissors or screwdrivers, so she will probably outgrow it fairly quickly.  That stuff is a distraction during this first stage, when safety is paramount.  On the downside, the knife is very “tight” and therefore hard for her to open or close.  I remember this being a problem with my first knife too, at about her age.

                                            

As for supervision, the knife stays in my sock drawer unless we’re out camping.  We had a very serious safety huddle when she got it for her 8th birthday, and the rules about where and when she can use it are set in stone.  While we’re camping or on a hike, she can keep it on her belt in its sheath.  When she wants to use it for something, she’ll ask me and we talk about what she’s going to do and how.  Usually this centers on where her little sisters are, and whether her little knife can do what she wants to do- cut down that tree?  Uh, no.  That talk will not usually last long, as by now she knows when its safe and when it isn’t.

 

As for actually using the knife, it takes some fairly close supervision at first- its not at all instinctive to only cut away from yourself, or to make sure that your fingers aren’t in the path of the blade.  In general, she should be sitting, out of the way of her sisters, with plenty of space in front of her.  It goes without saying that she doesn’t walk around at all with the knife blade open, or even joke about it being a weapon.  Then its time to turn a blunt stick into a pointy one.  You don’t really need instruction for that, do you? 

All this attention is necessary until she develops the muscle memory to use a knife safely.  Other skills help here too:  cooking for instance.  Slicing up cucumber for a salad, peeling things, etc.  It’s an easily learned skill, and she’s doing well with it, due in part to her methodical personality. 

A Few Basic Skills

If we do our job right, our girls will grow up confident, competent, wise, smart, beautiful and strong.  And they'll have common/uncommon skills, like driving a stick shift, building a campfire, writing a story.  The kind of thing that will simultaneously impress and scare future boyfriends.

One skill I've been working on with 8 year old D1 (almost 9!) is knifework 101.  She got her first knife last year, and from time to time we break it out and do some supervised whittling, bottle opening, wood sawing stuff. She's doing great with it. Its harder than it sounds to foster a healthy respect for sharp stuff, but work towards confidence. As you can see from the photo, she's well on her way to turning blunt sticks into pointy ones.