Who ever said off-road adventures were for guys never met the women of the Northwest…

If you hang out on any one of a dozen FJC forums you probably ran across MrsCheweys post that started the whole thing :

“Hey, are there any of you who love to ride in the rig while the boys drive off-road, but always wanted to kick them out and take the wheel?? I know I have (every time I get in the car with Chewey). So here is our chance, Wayne has agreed to lead a fun run in Tahuya for the ladies. Now boys, I know many of you would rather get a door ding then let your rig go on a run without you, so your are welcome to come along and ride in the passenger seat, THE LADIES GET TO DRIVE ON THIS RUN!!!!“

The idea was simple enough, the women who normally occupied the co-pilots seat with their significant other would trade places and take the FJ reins for their own off-road adventure.  The guys would be supportive and ride along.  The women definitely lived up to their end of the deal…

Wayne was set as the trail boss for this run. An experienced leader as well as search and rescue training, Wayne performed his roll on the trail with all the patients of a Buddhist monk in the attainment of Zen.  At the trail head, the guys got the rigs ready, airing down and a few last minute checks, while Wayne held a drivers meeting explaining to all the women some of the basic functions of their rig, describing the trails we’d be running and covering how he would spot them through obstetrical.  Heading into the forest, with Wayne in front, Hula Betty and I next on camera duty and Cassidy as tail gunner, the ladies pulled in line as we hit the trail.

The off-road trails at Tahuya are perfect for learning,  lots of stuff to learn on.  The hills, ruts, bumps and tight squeezes are perfect for getting the feel of the rig, its capabilities and finding where the rig’s corners are.    At each obstacle, Wayne would drive through, run back to explain the line and than spot each driver through. And as expected within no time the rookie drivers  got the hang of it.

The real growth can from the passenger seat… at the first break there were a lot of comments like

• “I had my hands over my eyes most of the time”
• “Can someone let my husband ride with them, he just won’t shut up”
• “How did I agree to this”
• “Someone needs a hug”

But by the time lunch was over the guys were cheering as they watched their significant other take their FJC’s through snakey off camber turns or pick their own lines up the steep rutted hills.  But don’t think it was all that boring for the guys…  One high-center episode in the water allowed the guys to get out the rubber boots and winch in order to unwedge the rig and get it back on track.

Although Hula Betty never took the wheel, after all she is stuck to the dash, this was by far one of the best runs in a long time. Getting an opportunity to help others learn to enjoy wheeling and meet new friends, put a little more spring in Hula Betty’s wiggle as we cruised through the trails of Tahuya Forest.

The really great thing about this run, was watching as these women helped breakdown the stereotype that off-road adventure driving is a guy thing.  Hopefully before long, a posting for a “Lady’s Run” wont be necessary and guys will be asking if my daughter will let them drive her rig for a change.

Bonus pics on Flickr off-road adventure… just because.

Let me start by squelching the rumors that I’ve got an IFS dark cloud circling over head…  But more on that later…

A while back Jerry over on the Pacific NW Backroad Adventures Forum announced an off-road adventure out to “The Slab” in central Washington.  The Slab, named for the little cement pad that serves as the gathering place, is an open sagebrush filled area just northwest of Zillah, Washington.  It is a wide open area full of two tracks, hill climbs and sunshine which sounded like heaven in the middle of a wet, western Washington spring.

If you’re going explore the dirt you’re going to have to cover a lot of concrete getting there. To get to The Slab the drive took us over the Snoqualmie Pass as the sun was coming up just past O’dark thirty. Crossing over the pass the 20 degree, tree lined, snow capped mountains were soon replaced by sunny dry rolling hills, scrub, fence lines and wide open highway, not a bad start.  Rolling through the Yakima Valley and on into Zillah I soon met up with the crew that I would be running with.  Strewn around Micky D’s were 4x4s sporting Ford, Toyota and Subaru badges telling the tale of those inside.  This group is focused on wheeling, not the wheels your driving and everyone is welcome to come along even a voodoo FJ Cruiser.

Our leader, and generally great guy, Jerry gave us a quick run down of what to expect on the slab; rolling hills, steep hills, and one call Rollover Hill along with a place aptly named flex canyon guaranteed to pit driving skills against rock, bent metal and broken glass.  Driving through the apple orchards, we soon arrived at the concrete pad to gather up and air down.

In no time the rigs were set as we mounted up for Jerry to lead us into the hills with a brief stop to peak at flex canyon.  This is a great place to work on driving skills.  Winding through “telephone line” you get plenty of off camber experience and a chance to measure the width of your rig by squeezing it past sage brush branches which appear to reach out for your rig in an attempt to apply pinstripes as you go by.

Approaching the down side of steep hills can be a bit unnerving as you loose sight of the ground below with only the hills on the other side of the valley appearing over the hood.  However these vistas are quickly replaced as gravity grabs the nose of your rig and pulls it down the incline giving you a clear view of where the incline rejoins level ground some 50 feet beyond.  Of course coming up offers a similar experience as you approach the  crest viewing nothing but blue sky and glaring sun until the rig levels out on top.  These are tiny moments where you just have to have faith.

Soon a voice came over the CB announcing several guys from the All Wheelers Club had arrived and would soon join up with us.  These guy rolled in sporting rigs clearly built for the hard core stuff and we followed them back to Flex Canyon, where they put their skills to the test.  Big tires, high lifts and lots of flex, these guys made easy work of it.

Now back to that dark cloud thing…  As you recall from our 4×4 adventure in the dunes, day 1 turned into axle field repair, and on this run, one of the Subaru among us gave up not one but two IFS axle shafts.  This time however, he was equipped with all the spare parts, tools and a through knowledge of axle repair in order to have the Subaru back together just as everyone finished lunch.

Not quite ready to leave yet, the whole crew poked around the hills a little more and before long we were looking up at Rollover Hill.  The 100 plus foot climb is steep and requires speed to conquer but just as you approach the upper area there is a bump forcing you to slow, followed by a stretch of traction-less gravel.  The hill gets its name from the rigs that fail to make through the final gravel section and have to back down, only to get kitty wompus with gravity taking hold and testing its roll cage.

True as the day is long,  the fact is that “it is not the rig, its the driver”.  Phil first looked up the incline, walked to its top, surveyed  the change in terrain, calculated his changes and put together his plan.  Phill’s rig is a capable Ford Explore, but no giant lift, mud slinging tires or locking differentials, just a man who knows how to drive what he brung.  And we all watch as he headed up one of the more difficult routes making his way over the bump and clawing through the gravel leaving a cloud of dust as crested the top and made the sharp turn. After seeing who easy Phil made it look a number of us thought about taking a turn but never after 3:00 p.m. and you shouldn’t really climb hills for 30 minutes after eating…

Bonus pictures at our Flickr off-road adventure account

The Slab is not a big area but with all the trails winding back around on themselves and cutting back and forth we spent a full day wheeling and enjoying the company making new friends as well as connect once more with some old one.  If you ever get the chance join a trip put on by Pacific NW Backroad Adventures…  I promise you wont be disappointed.

The last off-road drive on the dunes was scheduled to go into the wee hours running a jeep trail known as 430 route from Horsfall up to Spinreel.  One of the coolest sights is a long line of FJCs driving down the road like pretty maids all in a row.  The trail for Horsfall is south of where we were all staying just off highway 101.  Driving to the trail took us through 35 miles of twisty highway dotted with sleepy little one beach towns.  Each town brought the speed down to 35 mph and as the parade of FJCs passed, town folks would stare and point at us as if the prom queen were ridding by in the back of a caddy.

The day was sunny and bright, the night…  rainy, windy and dark.  Sitting in the staging area we contemplated the dilemma before us.  The locals told us the trail run should take 3 hours. The Forest Service web site shows the dune area open until midnight.  The signs in the staging area says, “Gates Close At 10:00 p.m.”.  The clock in the rig reads 8:15 p.m.

The map showed three exits along the trail and we decided we would pull off at the closest exit when Micky’s big hand pointed to the nine and his little hand pointed to the six (that’s 9:30 if you are doing the metric conversion).  We now had a plan and hit the trail.  Last night I lead the group with all the lights on turning the night into day.  Tonight I ran tail gunners with only the factory headlights as a courtesy to everyone ahead.  The trail is wide, carving its way north through the trees which line the dunes and contain the endless miles of sand.  With windshield wipers on we proceeded and marched in.

When you hear a trail is filled with one foot woopty doos you often picture motocross or desert race courses where rigs glide over as there suspension beats up and down maintaining the speed of a cheetah tearing through the African Savannas.  In reality what you get is a slow train of rigs pointing their nose into the air than back down into the dirt than back into the air and so on and so on like the rhythm of a defective pace maker.  After 10 minutes of watching the lights of the rigs ahead bounce off the tree tops followed by lighting up the dirt we knew why the locals said the run takes 3 hours.  It is good to run lots of different types of trails, that way you know what you like and what you don’t.  The chatter over the CB gave a resounding thumbs down to the ever present woopty doos that stretched across the trail as we all climbed and descended the gentle tree lined hills.

But as the saying goes, you dance with the one who brung ya, and we were determined to make the second exit before the gates locked us in.  It didn’t help that the factory Illumination failed to provide us much depth of field in all the rain, leaving us to wonder if the woopty doos ahead were getting smaller or bigger.  You just knew there were more ahead.

As 9:30 p.m. approached, the sign for the second of the three exits appeared.  The parade of rigs veered to the right and aimed back to the tarmac in order to air up and cruise back north on 101 to Florence.  With rain now on full drenching, we drove the 35 miles north from whence we came and after 45 minutes including a short stop to see one of the few working light houses around, we were saying our good byes over the CB as the group peeled off to their camp sites.  We hoped their tents were on high ground as we contemplated a hot shower, soft bed and HBO.

Bonus Pictures

The wet night run left little room for photo opps, so we thought we would put up a truck load of off-road adventure pictures at flickr off-road adventure that we captured from the previous two day runs. Some you’ve seen, some are new.

Ok, let me start by putting this out there…  While most of the club is camping out by the dunes enjoying the great outdoors, I’m ruffing it in the local Holiday Inn.  And sure I gave up the pit toilet, leaky air mattresses and wet tent for running water, hot showers and sleeping on a soft bed.  Instead of cooking over a Coleman stove I’m  dining our in restaurants.  But somehow I did manage to get get by.

It’s suppose to rain on the Oregon coast in spring…  Just nobody told the high pressure system that is keeping the sun shining this morning.  This morning we gathered at the Goose Pasture staging area to spend the day running the South Jetty to Siltcoos dunes area.  On the way down I had stopped at Metal Tech to say hi and before leaving, Mark boxed up some cool swag which made for some great door prizes and set a positive tone for run.

If you have never been off-road here, the trip is a must.  There is sand stretched out as far as you can see, dotted with little quads that look like ants crawling in the sand.  We learned form last nights hill fiasco and had aired down to 15 psi before we ever hit the dunes.  Now we were riding high on the soft stuff cruising up and down the hills.

I enjoy running as the tail gunner watching everyone play ahead.  This run was no different. With Jeff in the lead we weaved our way all over the sand stopping on top of the dunes to take in the sites and ensure everyone’s’ rig was performing as expected.  And although many of the rigs are sporting a truck load of mods, the stock FJC in the group was easily keeping up…  go figure, Toyota built it pretty well from the start.

My co-pilot for this off-road adventure is an old college buddy, Kevin and while not nearly as excited by wheeling as I am has made this a trip to remember.  Much of what makes wheeling fun isn’t tackling ungodly obstacles or forging raging torrents, although that certainly helps, its the chance to spend time with old friends and meet new ones.  Rolling over the dunes Kevin and I caught up on everything from kids to world politics and still had time to listen to a Jimmy Buffet tune or two.

We had anticipated lunch would have everyone stuck in their rig keeping out of the rain.  What we experienced in a sunshiny little fresh water oasis was the comradeship of the club, chatting, sharing stories of other runs, planning new runs and telling each other how we got into this sport.  We also confirmed there were more girl friends ridding shot gun than wives…  But than again after 20 some years of marriage you learn what is a dating ritual and what is the post wedding reality…  Wouldn’t trade it for the world, Hun…  Really!

The drive over the dunes had taken us from the northern end all the way south and now we dropped down onto the beach to parallel the Pacific as we shot north to meet Brian.  Brian had taken his rig up to Metal Tech where Mark completed axle repairs on the field dressing we performed the day before.  Loosing only half a day’s run, Brain was back as some of the club swung around to head back into the dunes for a few more hours of fun in the dunes.

No one broke anything, no one got hurt and everyone had fun…  Day 2, a very good day.  Tonight we bowl!

The first run on the Florence Oregon Dunes early in the morning brought out the sun…  or at least less clouds and no rain.  After meeting up with the NWFJCC club and airing down, we headed out into the Umpqua Dune area.  This area is marked by wide open sand, along with the biggest dunes of the three OHV areas.

We zigged, we zagged, we played around, going up and down the hills, stopping to watch the other rigs.  Going over the sand we all learned the little tricks.  For instance, staying out of the tracks and driving over the virgin sand allowed you to float and keep your speed rather than chugging in the tracks of others.

Soft sand we could drive over…  how much trouble could this be.  Well let me tell you.  The sand looks flat.  Its not!  Woopty doos appear out of no where, sand that has shifted leaving a drop off where a gentle roll once was, and hills that seem to grow taller and steeper as you run up them.

It was than we heard over the CB, “We just caught air, and crashed”.  As the group regathered to make sure everyone was ok, we found driver and passenger to be fine but after a two point face plant, the rig had its A/C cooler and radiator pushed back a little, with the fender now rubbing against the door.

Some real trail carnage, but no fluids leaking and everything on the rig was still working just fine…  That could have been so much worse…  everyone counted their blessings and we where back to wheeling.

Carnage never seems to travel alone and as we gathered up on the next hill, the group discovered Karma can be a cruel mistress.  From the font of one of the rigs climbing up a small hill in soft sand came a very loud BANG.

If you ever look at an IFS and see goo leaking out of a twisted boot, you know that is not a good thing.  But just how bad it was we still needed to figure out.  Broken axles mean you’re in for a field repair.  Like Apollo 13 engineers, everyone gathered to figure out what we had to work with?

• Spare Axel = zero, nada, none (mine won’t fit other rigs so it doesn’t count)
• Tools = Fair amount
• Hi-lift jack = several
• Healthy attitudes and a willingness to pull together and help out…  everyone

Ok…  We can work with this.  First thing, call MARK AT METAL TECH and get his advice…  Thank God for cell phones.

Step one was to get the wheel off the ground and pull (cut, hack, generally tear) the boot off to discover where the shaft was broken and determine how we could remove to two pieces.  With the hi-lift, we easily got the rig up in the air.  A couple of spare tires became our makeshift jack stands.  In no time the wheel was off and the carnage exposed.  Those with weak stomachs may not want to watch.

Surprisingly the axle was still in one piece but the inner cage of the birfeild (CV to non-Toyota guys) was in pieces, changing our axle extraction ideas.  Another life line call to Mark to discuss a new plan for removing a whole axle with what was on-hand.

After pulling all the metal bits and ball bearings out of the outer CV joint we had a good view of what was still in tack and we could move the axle back and forth giving us some room to play.  The field service was going to involve removing the bolts on the lower control arm that attaches it to the wheel housing so we could swing it out of the way and slide the axle, tri-ball and birfield star out, leaving the housings on both end cups still attached to the rig.

Now just to bolt everything left back into place, throw the wheel back on and jack the rig back down off the spare wheels and the rig was good to go.  2 hours (or so) start to finish and the rig was 2WD now but driving under its own power, steering and stopping just as it should.  Everyone drove the 20 miles back to camp under their own power.

While no one wants to see this happen, wheeling anywhere off-road comes with risks and everyone in the group now knows the value of carrying spare parts along with the needed tools to make field repairs.

Just maybe Karma is not the bitch we thought she was.

And if all this excitement wasn’t enough…  All of us, minus one rig with a missing axle, ran another section of the dunes and beach six hours later in the dark.  This run let everyone show off their lights and I swear the light house guy shed a tear when we turned our roof top off road lights on.  The night run also gave us the sand all to ourselves for a mostly uneventful time…  Of course there was a little butt pucker moment when crossing a creek and I found out just how fast my font end can plunge three feet under water and come back up for air.  Then just to rub a little salt in the wound, on that last dune out, it took me way too many times to make it up hill off the beach.  If fact eventually, I had to air way down with the ocean tide lapping at the wheels in order to climb the hill and get back onto the trail.

Would we do it again… You bet…  and in fact…  Tomorrow we will.

You may not believe me but going on off-road adventures, driving 4×4 trails, performing mods and conducting gear reviews is not as glamorous as it seems.

Take our upcoming article in 4WD Toyota Owner magazine.  The first set of action shots for the article showing the Total Chaos front end working on the trail… not so good.  That meant I had to go out again and get to work.

Work you say…  How hard can it be doing what you enjoy, driving 4×4 trails?  Well, driving is the easy part.  The hard part is documenting it all and not sounding like my third grade “Summer Vacation” theme that Sister Mary Knucklebuster turned into her year long example of how not to structure a sentence.

And while I’m sure hanging out with Cosmo glamazons at a Sports Illustrated swimsuit photo shoot has its perks, our photo shoots mostly involve me crawling around in the dirt trying to get the right angle.  But unlike stiletto healed Victoria Secret models in nothing but a pair of angle wings, the FJ Cruiser looks sexy wearing full trail gear and is not so high maintenance.

I always liked the show “Survivor Man“. It’s entertaining to watch the host, Les Stroud, survive in the middle of no where for a week on his own, but the cool factor goes way up as you realize Les is not accompanied by a film crew, sound engineers or a team of producers.  He really is out there on his own, humping all his camera gear, setting up, tearing down and filming, all the while trying to keep his cameras dry and survive with nothing more than a paper clip, four feet of twine and half a stick of chewing gum.

In our videos, what you see is the rig coming down the trail or driving over an obstacle and than heading off into the sunset.  Like Less, what I do, is pull off the trail out of the way, run up ahead with equipment in tow, plan the shot, set up the video camera, check sound levels, press record and run back to the rig… drive down the trail… than pull off the trail, jump out, run back, stop recording, tear down and load the camera and tripod back in the rig and head off to the next obstacle and do it again.  I could seriously hurt myself…  for your entertainment.

After a day on the trail, its back at the office to look through about two hours of video tape hoping to yield five minutes of usable stuff.

So the next time you read one of the stories, watch our videos or enjoy our pictures thinking I have a great job, remember…  There is nothing I would rather do! It is so worth it and how lucky am I to be able to share with others the fun we have out on the road of life.

Dad always told me “You’ll appreciate it more if you have to work for it” and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

The great thing about the Internet is that no matter how obscure your obsession, there is someone else out there like you looking to get together and have some fun.  Paul sent out a note asking if we (Hula Betty & me) would be interested in exploring the Tahuya State Forest ORV trails in a pre-run for an upcoming off-road adventure he would be leading soon.  Since Tahuya is really in our backyard, we jumped at the chance to wheel and put the new suspension through it’s paces.

The little town of Belfair is just a stones through away from the trail and the standard meetup place for groups heading out to the Tahuya Forest. Pulling into the Safeway parking lot and hopping out to grab a quick Starbucks, we could see that Paul and his dog Tucker, had grabbed an early ferry and were already there waiting for us.  A few good mornings and a short drivers meeting than off to the trail head to air down and go exploring.

The morning was amazing; clear, sunny and 27 degrees as we hit the trail following Paul, his frozen exhaust hanging in the air as we climbed the first frosty hill.  It had not rained in a number of days and the trails were that perfect combination of soft moist loose dirt and axle deep, ice covered puddles.

Paul lead us up and down the hills through the forests as we settled into driver mode.  When you take your rig off-road you accept a certain amount of risk and each scared tree we passed reminds us of the carnage that 4×4 trails can extract on anyone’s rig who is not focused on the job at hand.

Regardless of how much you read and talk about there is nothing like seat time to teach you how the rig will interact with obstacles on the trail.  We were reminded of this as we came to a tight little obstacle.  You come down a steep short hill, take a hard right hand turn and come upon a puddle where you squeeze past a stair step guarded by a tree on the passenger side while climbing up and over a large set of roots on the drivers side.  We watched as Paul walked up and over, placing his rig on the correct line.

Taking our turn, we showed all the poise and grace of a bull in a china shop and as we prepared to work through the obstacle, our rear wheels slid down the wet roots only to fill the cabin with the sound of metal and wood introducing themselves to each other.  The rig had slid into the scar covered tree standing as tall still as a marine sentential on the right side of the trail…  This is no trail for old men… and we scooted back a little, re-lined the rig, engaged the e-locker and climbed over the mass of roots that had made us its bitch only moments earlier.

Pulling off past the obstacle, it was time to look and see the price of this lesson.  Turns out our installation of custom rub rails on the metal tech sliders was a life saver.  The rails did there job perfectly and kept snarled bark and tree sap inches from the rigs exterior skin avoiding any physical damage and minimizing the emotional seizures.

Turns out Paul spent time at Bill Burke’s off-road courses and learned well the skills needed to spot us through various obstacles.  When we came to Tahuya’s rock garden Paul, Tucker not so much, helped me pick an easy line through the boulders.  Paul clearly understands how help others, less capable then himself, gain the skills and confidence needed to safely navigate trail obstacles.

There is an official Tahuya Forest Map, but the map does not show the dozens of spurs and cross trails that interconnect, putting any good corn maze to shame.  We explored the area for hours wondering down anything that looked interesting and occasionally going in circles but always coming back out onto a new and interesting trail section.

It was over lunch that I really had the opportunity to chat with Paul and share the stories that brought us to this place in each others lives.  Turns out Paul and I share numerous similarities including careers in tech, family backgrounds and a stint in the state of Michigan.  And while wheeling is always fun, it’s the chance to make new friends that is my favorite part of these outings.

After lunch we climbed back in the rigs to find mud lake.  Looking up on the dash to get the go ahead from Hula Betty, the outside air temperature now read, 29 degrees as we headed for the trails.  Despite looping back and forth through the forest, we never did quite find the lake, but enjoyed exploring spurs that brought us in and out of the sunshine and rambled over several new sections.

After a full day on the trails we made our way back to the parking lot to air back up.  With the rigs back in street shoes, we bid goodbye to the trail and each other as our two rig caravan worked its way back up the highway to our separate homes.  With any luck we’ll have several more opportunities to spend time with Paul and Tucker on the trails, down the road.

When you grow up in Oklahoma it is hard not to eat, breath and sleep Sooner football.  This also means you dedicate Saturday’s to the gridiron and make sacrifices including pushing off family reunions, funerals, and off-road adventure opportunities.  Well with Oklahoma positioned for the national championship, it was time to celebrate with trip into the back woods.

I’ve long wanted to return to the Mt. Baker area and see the mountains as they take on that first coat of snow.  The cold weather usually keeps the crowds at bay when there is not quit enough of the white stuff to ski down.  And I knew there would be an old logging road or two to explore along the way. It was just a matter of getting a little Barbie Doll size coat for that Iconic dashboard copilot of mine, Hula Betty.

The morning started out as you would expect in November, dark and drizzly fog with a chance of rain and clouds the rest of the day (note to self: change the rubber on the windshield wipers they’re getting loud).  The first leg of most adventures for us is by ferry over to the east side of Puget Sound where the rest of the state of Washington begins.  The ferry boat ride is also great time to grab a cup of coffee, wake up and double check everything is where I thought it would be.  And as my wife will tell you I always forget something.  This time it was tire chains (more about what that cost me later).

Only thirty minutes later and we were driving back onto to dry land, heading north on I5, where in Bellingham we shoot east on 542 heading to Mt. Baker.  As soon as you get off I5 you start to feel the change in time as strip malls are replaced by little country stores and swap meets.  You also trade in the straight gray concrete for the winding tarmac that follows the bends of rivers with names like Nookshook, Iceberg lake or even Thompson creek.  And as we wound along these living, breathing, moving water ways the road began to feel like our own with only the occasional car passing the other way. The rest stops on the back roads have all the cool stuff, including one of the largest Western Red Ceder stumps.

Twin Lakes is a beautiful base camp area set just below Winchester and Mount Larrabee at around 5,200 feet  Having scrambled up these two in the past I knew the road up was a fairly well maintained logging road that can get washed out but usually remains passable.  As we turned off 542 and hit the dirt the drizzle stopped and day was looking up.  The road was as I remembered and we made good time for the first 4.5 miles or so as we passed the Tomyhoi Lake/Yellow Aster Butte trail head. The forest service describes the next section as “not maintained for passenger vehicles. Those persons with a 4-wheel drive high clearance vehicle may be able to continue the remaining 2 miles to Twin Lakes”.  It was here that we came out of the trees into the clearings and the wet damp turned into icy crust.  The snow that remained had clearly been thawed compacted and refrozen a couple of times forming crunchy ice that immediately slowed us down.

Motoring on through the white crunchy stuff we came to the switchbacks.  It was at this point we start to understand physics as the rig moved more sideways than forward.  Progress became, back up a few feet, drive forward ten feet and repeat.  Remember those chains I forgot… Hula Betty’s view from the dash gave her a clear sense of how steep the drop was as we would slide toward the down hill side of the trail.  I swear she quivered in fear a little.

With no chains, no other rigs around and the trail getting steeper we decided to call it.  But that meant backing down the steep trail to that last turn in the switchback in order to point the rig in the right direction. Oh those big beautiful mirrors.  We worked our way backwards to the turn, then facing correctly down hill, headed back following the tracks we laid coming up.

On the way down we had the good fortune to make some new friends. We met up with a family, who had come up to see the snow…  for the first time.  Mom and one of their sons recently arrived from the Philippines and this was a chance for the whole family to enjoy making snow men and pick out a Christmas tree.  They all seemed to really enjoy spending time together and I enjoyed hearing how they met had on the Internet and recently wed.

The rest of the ride down the trail went quickly with a few stops to enjoy a the sites and sounds of the woods.  Once off the trail it was on to the ski area of Mt. Baker.  The winding tarmac leading up the mountain was lined with poles set by the Department of Transportation to mark the edge when the heavy winter snows come.  Arriving at the top we were treated to amazing views of Mount Shuksan as I sat by the frozen lake (Hula Betty opted to say in the rig).  The bench by the lake provided a short moment of solitude to contemplate how similar we all are in our desires to raise a happy healthy family.  Staring up at a glacier covered rock the size of Manhattan, you can’t help but put life into perspective.

On the way up we spotted a little back road leading off to no where, so on the way down we added it to our list of places we would explore.  This little dirt road went on for a couple of miles with clearing offering views of Cascade peaks hidden from view previously.  And as a bonus, it ended in a place with a nice wall climb.  It wasn’t the climb that presented the challenge, it was the landing at the top, which was just large enough to almost hold a rig.  Once on top, it took a little maneuvering to point the rig back down without getting too off camber.  The little climb gave us back the machismo lost on the snow covered switchbacks.

Driving back to the ferry Hula Betty reminded me (I know she not real but it is better than talking to myself and she is stuck to the dash so she is not going anywhere) how lucky I am to have the opportunity to explore this area and meet others with diverse backgrounds and stories of their own.

We met up with the club for an off-road adventure through the Tahuya State Forest.  The crew included the likes of seriousactualist, amaintaylor, kurtfriedrich, Marsh, Macleod, conversejohn54, The Shocker, and ropedrag.  We all met up in Belfair at the local Safeway.  It is amazing what locations become the standard meetup spot and for Tahuya this is it.  When Hula Betty and I arrived the parking lot was full of FJs and Jeeps.  A couple of old friends 1TUFTOY and LA were there readying to go out with another group of Jeeps we had wheeled with a year back.

A quick stroll through the Safeway deli to grab a box lunch and it was time for the drivers meeting.  This was going to be an explores run since no one had been here in years and the trails are always changing.  After a quick forest service map review and CB check, we were ready to head out to the trail head, ten minutes from town.

The trail head parking lot provided a good place for all of us to air down and double check the gear.  It also gave us a chance to see the other FJ’s and their various mods. The great thing about off-road adventures with the club is that it is family oriented. Moms, dads, kids and friends all show up to go out and get dirty.

Although we are getting better at driving 4×4 trails, we still have a lot to learn and the Tahuya Forest is a good classroom.  Most of the trails are relatively easy but you can find some real traps if you’re looking to test the limits of your skill and your rig’s metal.  Everyone escaped this off-road adventure unscathed but we’ll all have to wash our rigs when we’re done.

Brazil has the Amazon, Florida has the Everglades and the Northwest has it own rain forests.  The rain had been coming down all week and mother nature was not done yet.  The trails were filled with puddles deep enough to test our scuba mods and although there are no piranha or alligators, the muddy puddles do hide rocks and roots that keep your hands tight on the wheel.

We followed the trails over the hills and through the woods, down to the mud lake for a little surf and turf.  The lake is great place to through a little mud high in the air but don’t let it’s placid surface fool you…  the middle is deep and sticky.  Unless you want to test your recovery skills you stick to the sides, which still come up to the fender wells.

After lunch the group headed to a muddy climb that when you walk it, you see the broken glass left behind from other rigs who have attempted this tricky little stretch in the past.  Thanks to the spotting of Jerry and Marsh everyone made it up and over without a scratch.  From here we doubled back and headed to a rock pile where Jerry showed us what an FJ is capable of with right setup…  and good spotting.

The drive back to Camp Spillman was more of the same fun stuff and by 2:00 we were aired up and heading home.  This was one of the few runs where we were the only FJ Cruiser not checking the ferry schedule.  Hula Betty and I wound our way back to Bremerton through some old logging roads just for the fun of exploring a new drive home.