Thanks to EVERYONE who went to Tahuya yesterday! While we go wheelin’ in the rigs that become part of our families, it’s the PEOPLE who make the experience truly memorable and awesome! Many thanks to: Tammy Christopherson for organizing the run! Kayla Smith for doing such a great job as trail lead! Gary D. Miller, Michael Kelley, Jerry Marsh and others for your Zen-like skill as spotters! To “Moose” for taking us on a “unique” trail for the size of our rigs! Ken Beahm for helping in many ways! Mark McLaughlin & Casey Stokes Miller for capturing the day in stills and vids- can’t wait to see some of these! Erich Tibbetts for pulling one of our team members when needed! Our four-legged friends for bringing sticks for us to throw ALL DAY! Will Corall for trusting us with your family- hope they loved their first run, Monica did and thought y’all were terrific! I feel very blessed to count y’all as my friends! I can’t wait for the next run!
Gary
The following is the run report from Moose. Thank You Moose!
Run Report – “It’s Just Tahuya†Chapter 13 – “The Reawakening….â€
(Dateline 4/24/2014)
Yes – I’m sure talk of the Tahuya Run has run rampant all over Facebook already – to which I comment TTDSU (Too Technical – Didn’t Sign Up.) But if you want to hear the REAL story (heavy emphasis on “story†which in my book also includes made up facts and glaring omissions as it suits me) then read on. Hey – if you were there – you’ll KNOW whether I’m telling tales or not.
A trip to Tahuya is a good reminder that every trail is never the same trail twice. Each run is like a snowflake – an infinite amount of lines to take, with varied pairings of trail companions that makes each trip to a familiar place a unique event. And so it was that I pulled into the Safeway parking lot WAY early (like 8:50AM – which is like TOT (Tamer Optimistic Time.) Nothing broke by the time I got into town – and obviously it was meant to be. No sooner had I gotten out of Cupcake (the christened name my mother-in-law had given my tow vehicle – yes – don’t ask) than a old manly sounding Dodge Ram diesel came steering my way with the driver sporting a friendly wave. Former Tamer and now Quadrapaw Mike Welander – Or Trooper Mike or Officer Friendly to those who dare speed past his WSP cruiser. He takes such great joy in his work – he will smile while he tickets you. Give him a hard time (who could? – he is such a genuinely nice guy!) and he’ll smile even bigger when handing over the citation. I haven’t seen Mike in a few years. He filled me in on all the devious ways he and his peninsular brethren have consistently worked to make Tahuya more than “Just Tahuya.â€He encouraged me to get the crowd down the 55 trail. Used to be a freeway, but apparently Mike spending a little quality time with an excavator has turned that into a pile of deep and stretchy tank traps and mole holes. Since Moosenstein likes to stretch – I definitely hoped to give that a try. As we caught up, a couple of guys waiting for another PNW group came over to give Moosenstein the once over, remarking that they “loved to see a well used Jeep.†I can’t say I disagree.
By this time – Tamers were showing up in the parking lot – and true to Tahuya – some had already stopped at the NAPA for parts, even before hitting the parking lot. Aye – so this is how it was going to be eh? Great!
So – there’s a herd of cattle, a gaggle of geese, and murder of crows – and let’s just say we had a Wonder of Wheelers – someone said the count of Tamer rigs came in at 21! A wonderful showing of metal and wheels and tires and gears and winches – and people looking for adventure – is the best part. From stock to built, shiny to dull, straight and bent – and a little after 10 AM (now TST – Tamer Standard Time) off to the trailhead we all went.
Being trail boss, Kayla did a nice job pulling the drivers together for a little meeting and pep talk – checking who had what gear with them (radios, winches, straps, tow points, etc, etc.) and we got things arranged and off we went. As usual – I elected to be tail gunner – which brought no end of humorous ripostes and witty comments all having to do with a man and a rear. I just say, it takes a real Moose to get to the bottom of any situation.
While the front of the group headed for the first obstacle (a boulder strewn downhill slot) I got a call on the radio for a straggler looking for the Tamers. A guy named Kyle had brought his Cherokee all the way up from Morton, and he was having problems keeping his engine running. Seemed like a fuel starvation problem. Would start – wouldn’t keep running. I was about to try to offer some suggestions as to what might be wrong, when it became pretty quickly obvious that Kyle knew his rig like he knew both the back AND the front of his hand – maybe both of them. Now – only a few months ago, one of our newer members (Perry?) who has a Cherokee, had told me something about an item behind the left headlight of a Cherokee that – if disconnected or crappy, would cause intermittent fuel problems. What did he say? What did he say? I was struggling to remember – and just about a moment before I got there – Kyle said, “Wait! Ballast Resistor!†That was it – a ballast resistor behind the left front headlight! So – we found it (easy to find) and found both connections were dirty, and one was barely on. A little shining up and making sure they were on solid and boom! – that was it. Kyle was running and on we went to rejoin the group.
We found the peanut gallery camped out on the slot, with Michael spotting folks through the rocks. My first observation was, “Hey – I’d be careful if I was you. If you break something while he’s spotting you, he can always sell you a new one!†(Michael being the manager of the Lynnwood 4 Wheel Parts store.) I don’t know exactly who all was going down at the time, but then Phil took a hard line in his immaculate grey JK – and liked getting down so much – he turned around and came back up! And then went down again! With maybe only the barest scuff on his left rear fender flare sneaking around a tree root.
Gary had taken over spotting duties – and started to give me a little finger pointing as I didn’t so much steer Moosenstein down the slot – it was more like I just generally aimed and prayed and let gravity do the rest. Halfway down, I heard Gary say, “Oh – yeah – you don’t need me.†Well – I need all my wheeling friends – but he was right – Moosenstein just kind of tippy-toed down in full disregard of any good lines or concern for sheet metal. It’s what he does. It did account for about 70 seconds of the 13 minutes total he spent in 4 wheel drive for the day.
Everyone off the slot – and we then headed for the pool. Mike had told me Mud Lake had some even deeper than usual spots in it this year, and I really didn’t know if any of our band were planning to take the dip or not. For the most part, with a fair amount of solar gain shining down on the shore, we were content to be a bunch of sunbathers, eating lunch on the beach, crawling over stumps and just general hanging out.
And then the entertainment showed up.
Bless God for young men in old Chevy pickups who have more daring than sense when it comes to Mud Lake. In typical YMF (Young Man Fashion) he and a friend or two (all in the same truck – no other vehicles in his happy band) plunged in at as much throttle as the old Chev could muster. I think he’d done this a time or three before – with what looked to be at least 38’s churning through the goo, and his exhaust pipe turned up into the bed, he was spitting up mud and steam and black smoke like a maniacal Old Faithful gone to the dark side – churning, churning, churning, spattering, spittering, sputtering ann-nn-nn-nnd – quiet. I’m trying to remember if I heard frogs croaking in the silence, interrupted only by a starter cranking in vain to find a spark of life.
Being on the other side of the pond watching the spectacle – I can only imagine the conversation:
“What’s wrong Number One?â€
“I – I think you’ve killed it Sir!â€
To our less experienced Tamers in our group, I did sum up the situation in the following manner – “One wet dead rig in the pond is worth 2 running ones on the trail.†Or “He who out of the water does stay – lives to wheel the rest of the day.â€
We knew the inevitable was going the happen, and yet we held our ground, waiting for Chev captain to make the walk of shame over to us to ask – “Ummm – could someone tow me out?†As so it happened – that we felt it was the most fitting of embarrassments to have his big ¾ ton full size beast rescued by Gary in his diminutive looking (but full of spirit) ‘Zuk. I had even started to head over in Moosenstein in order to provide an anchor point to tie Gary off – but no need. That was the little ‘Zuk that could – defiantly holding its ground as its winch tugged the great beast back inch by inch, like a revisionist Captain Ahab this time besting the great whale – until it was again on terra firma.
Well – we’d had enough of twisting by the pool and headed off to the south loop. Somehow, we got separated from Rick and Jennifer, while they watched Anthony play on the rock garden. I thought they gotten down to the rock garden on the south loop, so off we went, thinking we were in pursuit – but instead – we somehow passed them and started on the next adventure. Trooper Mike had recommended we make sure to take a turn onto the “Righty-tighty Lefty-loosey trail – which was reputed to be tight and circuitous. That sounded like fun, and with little need of 4WD, at least my front and rear Detroits weren’t going to make turning too much trouble for my boat. Also – Kayla was having some trouble with her CB, and elected to hand the lead over to someone else. I must have found the Tahuya worm hole – as mysteriously – I had gone from Tail Gunner to trail leader. So – off we went. I did find a turn that got me on a smaller trail with twists and turns, and so I thought I had made it to the prescribed trail. And at every crossing of the main drag, seemed to come the next portion that was even tighter and twistier, and the next even tighter and twistier than that. Finally – there was an even more enticing trail, in which it started over what looked like a giant’s washboard, and then a left turn into an almost impossibly tight and twisty trail. As we headed down the first little bit – my Moose sense was starting to tingle in the old antlers. By the time I started suspecting what would have been more obvious if this end of the trail had been properly marked – we were by now all pretty much locked into what just had to be – a QUAD trail. And there didn’t seem yet to be a need to try to back or turn around at least 19 vehicles. The trail was tight – but doable.
And then the trees closed in. There was a downhill left-right-left around some trees that would be a good learning exercise for anyone wanting to keep the Tahuya pinstriping off the old finish. Now – Moosenstein’s lack of turning radius (long wheelbase, leaf springs and big tires) is at least made up for by the fact that its only old CJ wide – maybe what – 14†narrower than a built new JK? Oh yeah – and the fact that I long ago gave up on the tyranny and artistic constraints of factory finish sheet metal. Trail customized is where it’s at, baby! I got around the trees with only a touch here and there – but it gave me some concern for the wider rigs following. Kayla was next in her Cherokee – and got past the first left and right pretty well – but then held close to the passenger side instead of taking the room to go wide on the driver to scoot around the 3rd tree. I was out of my rig coming back to spot – when I heard that sharp “CRACK!“ of tempered glass being stressed past its limit. On the up side, unlike Elvis, her rear passenger window had not yet left the building, but she was hard squeezed against a tree on her back right roof pillar, with her driver front tire jammed full left against a tree. Oh yeah – and about now is when her front end decided not to help out anymore. She was at least 2WD low – but 2WD none the less. Very much demonstrating what its like to be stuck between a tree and a hard place. Backing up would only make for more sheet metal damage, and she’d lose the window all over the trail. Going forwards was an impossibility.
What to do, what to do….. hmmmmmm.
WAIT – A BRILLIANT IDEA! Yes – exactly – that’s what we were in need of – a brilliant idea…..
First one – one of our band poposed putting his chainsaw to use cutting the tree. Nope – I rejected that. I didn’t want to start making that trail any wider, and after all – I think with it being DNR land – we REALLY don’t want to go cutting any trees.
But – Tammy was behind with a winch. If we could get a snatch block out with a couple of tree savers – there was a chance we could snatch to a big tree off the trail, and catch the one wedging Kayla in high up, and pull it off her. And that’s exactly how it worked. Pulling that tree off Kayla’s rig got her about a foot of clearance up high. Then – even in 2WD, she was able to back off the pressure on her front tire, get her rig jockeyed over to the left, and then around and down. The tree was left fit to keep on growing, and we were able to get Kayla far enough down the trail to duct tape up both sides of the window so it would stay put.
It probably took over an hour to cozy the rest of the rigs down through that little nook, but it sure was instructional on how with a little patience and help from spotters, you can move a rig around an obstacle without damaging the rig or the obstacle. I think the most honorable mention on this was one of our folks with his very pretty, very stock Tacoma pickup. His struggle to even give it a try was rewarded with the accomplishment of sticking to it, trusting his spotters, and he got through by probably less than an inch here and there – but through indeed without a touch or scratch. It was a lot of work, both in body and mind – and he made it successfully.
It was time to get off that trail. The day was getting long, I sensed folks were getting tired, and by now, the rain had started. We had broken out of the trees (so I thought) and the main trail was just over a rise to the left. I REALLY hoped we had clear sailing to get out – until I got to a stand of trees that I really couldn’t even get Moosenstein through without a touch simultaneously on both sides. We were never going to be able to get other rigs through without damage.
Executive decision. I had seen and walked the faintest wisp of a trail through the clear cut – and it was wide enough for everyone to get up over the rise without running over stumps or new trees, or spinning tires, and we could tread lightly to get out. So I walked it up front to get everyone headed for the main trail, which came out just outside the rock garden. Kayla came up on a strap, and everyone else got out easily with as little sign left behind as possible. I didn’t want to squeeze back through the trees again – so I kept going, hoping to be at the main road soon with no further ado. And – coming up the last rise – THERE it was – the trail keeper on that end (some concrete barriers) that made it obvious that this was a quad trail. Too bad something like that or some signage hadn’t been placed at the other end. Oh well – we’d actually brushed up on some good technical skills and were all back out and where we belonged and everyone was ready to head for the parking lot.
And still – just one more reminder that it was just Tahuya. One of the folks dropped a T-case linkage in a deep puddle, and needed Casey to pull him out so he didn’t have to reconnect it while lying in a few feet of mud and water. That was a quick tug by Casey, and a quick fix. And finally, mercifully – we all got back to the parking lot and even found Rick and Jennifer again (or did they find us?)
Yep – didn’t get a chance to run the 55 trail – but I guess that will be fun for another day.
Moosenstein got tied down on the trailer, others aired up, our various and sundry 4 legged friends big and small (from a St. Bernard to a uber-cute little muttly puppy) got to stretch their legs and get a drink, and all the adventurers recounted tales of the trail, and offered greetings of parting.
Just another perfect day at just another trail – it’s Just Tahuya!
Thanks for readin’
And Keep on Wheelin’!Â
Moose
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