Saline Valley Thanksgiving 2013

Recently Nemo and I had the conversation about struggle, adventure, and the cost benefit ratio of motorcycling in remote harsh environments.

The conversation was particularly pertinent to this years Saline adventure.

It isn't simply the monetary cost of going away for a week or two, it's also the planning, the being out of touch, the provisioning for two people, a dog and a couple of motorcycles.

Being who we are, we always seem to leave the important tasks to the last minute when we are crushed for time.

Saline 2013 proved no different. I came home from work to find my SO servicing the ATKs only he wasn't really servicing them. What he was doing is looking for the melting point of the plastic tube that broke off in the frame/ oil reservoir of the bike

Long story short, our annual vacation began by stringing the bike up and fishing out bits of plastic tubing. This was the first of indicators that this was not going to be a smooth trip but sometimes it's easy not to hear the Universe as it screams at you :|

A day late the packing of the van commenced.

For this trip the trailer was out of the question so both bikes, our gear, the dog, and us all had to fit inside the van. In order to achieve this the bed comes out, the bikes load side by side ass in first with front fenders removed.

First one:


Then the other and in goes the bed.




We had heard that the North Pass (our usual point of entry) had suffered some major washouts and was impassable to anything other than the most hardy of rock crawlers.

We had also heard that the Southern Pass was passable and clear. South it was and we set the GPS to Panamint Springs as the Saline road turnout is along the route. In 11 hours we would be hanging out in the warm sun, drinking cold beer, and soaking our weary bodies in heavenly hot water

Yeah, right :|

A day and a half late we left San Rafael just in time for rush hour traffic. Yes, we should have waited a few hours and missed the heavy commute hours but this girl was about ready to have an aneurism if we didn't get the eff out of dodge NOW!!!

As we crossed the Richmond San Rafael Bridge my phone rang. Bloody Hell! cell phones!

It was our friend Bear calling from the one spot in all of Saline where AT&T gets service. His u-joints had failed on the way into the valley and he was relieved to learn we hadn't left yet.

With a Ford dealer on our way it didn't seem like too much trouble to stop and pick up parts for Bear; after all, he would do the same for us.

Not available separately-not in stock was what we were told. Then we were told that NAPA carried the u-joints separately. So began the first in a series of detours.

We procured Bear's parts on the wrong side of Oakland and climbed our way back to 580 and the I-5.

After an uneventful 9 hours of driving with my SO in back sleeping, I pulled over in Coso Junction next to a tricked out Ford E350 4X4 Sportsmobile (more about the Sportsmobile later) to get a bit of sleep myself. Saline Valley Road is not for the feint of heart and we wanted to arrive at the turn off fresh and ready.It was Tuesday.

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I'm in.

Sportsmobile's are cool.

Tuesday 10AM

Note Point B on the map, it isn't the Saline Road turn off-no it is not. It is instead the point of beginning for four, then five, then six die hard masochists.

There are certain images that fail to make sense in my mind. Joshua trees and snow are not meant to be together yet here they were along our way



Drowning in a sea of denial we continued up Saline Valley Road until we encountered a band of gypsies camped in the middle of the road! Who does that???

Living in Marin for awhile now I've blended in marvelously with the privileged, narcissistic, chardonnay swilling, yoga babes. The Other let me out to go have a little "chat" with them.

Hands on hips I ask them "are you aware youv'e set up camp in the middle of the road?"

This marks a turning point for me, I really need to work on myself

These people, the ones camped in the middle of the road, are pretty decent folks, and of course, there is a reason they're camped in the middle of the road.





Now about that Sportsmobile...
While fueling up in Olancha, the Sportsmobile rolled up, With winches, shovels, and what attached I KNEW his destination was our destination. A quick " yes I am" confirmed that he too was on his way to Saline

It's always good to have a capable escort along a tough road.

Advising the Gypsy Campers (who are actually employed and not really gypsies atall ) that there is a BIG EXSPENSIVE 4X4 on the way they pack up camp, chain up and prepare.



WE ARE FINALLY ON OUR WAY!!!! arty

We only have 6 miles to go before we turn left at Humter Mountain and decend into the valley below.

Six miles, how hard can it be?

With the Sportsmobile leading, the Pickup second, us in our dually Sprinter, followed by the Falco Conversion 2WD van we set out to conquer! We're going to slay this and be soaking in hot water by nightfall



The Sportsmobile would charge into the deep snow until he got stuck, the Pickup would winch him back, all of us would shovel for the next charge. The two vans would follow.



If one of the vans became stuck the push me pull you second truck would lay out the tow strap and pull the van out of whatever was holding it.



As we crawled our way up the mountain we noticed a Saturn Vue behind us. Like an annoying little sister, we would make 100 feet and that Saturn would scamper behind us. We kept telling them to go back that this was no place for a little front wheel drive with no ground clearance.

Finally after about six hours of struggle we opted to quit and turn around.

Gwynne I get the sense we're in for quite the tale. You really are the fearless and capable adventurer. Bring this on! Subscribed!

This is the second trip this year where we have turned around well after committing to the journey. It is a sick feeling, quitting, but sometimes it is the prudent choice.

We handed off Bear's u-joints to the Falco van and wished them a great time. We also loaned our extra shovel to the pickup hoping that they will track us down and return it.

Funny segway about the pickup. Before charging into the snow a very graceful young woman came up and introduced herself. She asked if we were from Marin and when I replied "yes" she beamed and replied "I thought so, I recognize my people anywhere."
she was referring to my snotty little attitude when I encountered them. First impressions...Oy Vey

With Bear's u-joints safely on their way, our only concern was that pesky Saturn. We hadn't seen it for awhile and hoped like hell they weren't stuck impeding the road and our escape.

Naturally, while turning around on the now icy road with the sun safely set we get stuck

I am informed that this will be about a four hour process to get unstuck

Unpacking to get to the come along and rope, I unload the stove, the dishes, and the cooler, we am now camped in the middle of the road

Almost three hours later with lots of grunts, cranks, shoveling, and rocking the van is free

Alas, it's late and now the snow that has melted during the day has frozen into a thick ice sheet with steep drop offs. We elect to spend the night IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING ROAD (karma is a bitch I tell you!)

It's now Tuesday night about 11Pm and we're settling in when we hear the sound of engines!

Image stolen from the internet:


A 4X4 VW Westalia is screaming up the road with the Saturn in tow. He won't be stopped but after a brief conference the Saturn decides that they are going to pack it in as well.

With 4" to spare the VW rolls past and leaves us the Saturn. We have straps and can pull them along if they get into trouble.

The Saturn served as a plow, knocking down most of the high spots in the snow. Turning around was uneventful but there were a few drifts that posed a problem. We found ourselves wishing for that shovel we foolishly gave away.

Finally after 29 hours we were back where we started. Exhausted, we removed our chains and regrouped.

The Saturn:



The Bossdog sees opportunity at every stop. Here he is mastering his soccer moves.

Wednesday:

We sit, we look at one another, we exhale and try to wrap our heads around the idea that for the first time in 8 years we will not be celebrating Thanksgiving in Saline

We are fully loaded, we have bikes, we have gas, we have food, we have beer, and we have wine-what we lack is a destination.

WWWCD (What would Woodschick do?) Since we don't have internet or cell service where we are I can't call or send an email. First stop, anywhere with cell service

In! moar


T

It's Wednesday late morning and we are in need of a major regroup. We feel a bond with the Saturn people yet really don't want to head north with them. We love Death Valley but the thing with National Monuments is that unless you pay and stay between the lines they aren't really motorcycle friendly.
We finally decide to head back to Olancha and get breakfast and fire up the internet.

The moment we are in cell phone range my text message alert goes nuts.

BEAR!!! He last heard from me at 9:04 AM Tuesday morning and we still have not arrived. He had sent a text saying if he doesn't hear back he is forming a search party. I text back that we gave up, the u-joints were given to part of a caravan of four. Look for the Falco van, the pickup, the Sportsmobile, and the 4X4 VW.

Shortly after sending the text I get a reply/ No sign of the other 4 vehicles.

Bear also informs us that CalTrans ran a grader over the North Pass, it remains sketch but he thinks that with the clearance and the dual wheels the Sprinter can make it in, if not we can off load the bikes and ride into the Springs for Thanksgiving. We opt to try, and beat feet to catch up with the Saturn to let them know.

Half way between Big Pine and Lone Pine we catch up with them and let them know we're going in arty

A quick glance at pour route.

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A passable road is not necessarily an easy road. Saline Valley Road at its very best is a challenge at its worst it doesn't exist.
The first few miles were graded and perfect then we began to hit the washouts.



Rocks and gulleys, where the road once was, made it difficult to know if we were on the correct path. Someone had taken the time to hang surveyors tape here and there.

After about 20 miles we came across a Chinook parked slightly off what used to be the road. They were giving up, too much overhang and parts were being ripped off the back end of their rig.

As the road became more and more difficult we expected to see the Saturn, as long as we didn't see them we knew that they were ahead, and as long as they could make it we knew we could too

Willow Springs washout:


Note the sharp turn to avoid going off the road:



Struggle in a Sprinter looks like this:

Soon we ride!!!

Awesome!! What a great start, I'm in.

As an aside, I've worked in San Rafael for going on 15 years, and I always act like I've never heard of the place...

SRAD600 said:

Awesome!! What a great start, I'm in.

As an aside, I've worked in San Rafael for going on 15 years, and I always act like I've never heard of the place...

Click to expand...

yep, that snotty little attitude is most unbecoming. I'm re-engaging my Virginia roots


Bumping, grinding, and creaking down through the washouts, we average about 2mph.



We are 6 hours in to a route we normally cover in 2.5 hours.
Evening is approaching but rumor has it this is the worst part and we still haven't seen the Saturn contingent arty



Finally with the worst behind us we search for the turnoff to the Springs. Our GPS shows the road as here:



We see a tire track in the hardened cement like silt and feel confident we're on the right track.

stopping and walking around on a firm surface that is normally deep silty sand both of us have the same thought. This stuff is going to be AWESOME to ride on

Arriving well after sundown Wednesday evening we strip off our clothes and step into the warm water. There is nothing that even comes close to the feeling of ancient hot water caressing your bones after an ordeal such that we have been through.

Bear sees the van and reports that the Saturn arrived a few hours ahead of us but there is no sign of the Falco van, the Pickup, the Sportsmobile, or the 4X4 VW He is mourning his lost u-joints

We don't even bother setting up camp we plan on rising early and finding our spot.

In the morning we rise early and choose a spot where we can orient the van, the fire, the kitchen, and our chairs for the optimum view and exposure.



Another group arrives and admits to turning around where we did on the Southern Pass, but not seeing the other vehicles. This is troublesome news and we think about the Donner Party after all, the last words spoken to us by the driver of the VW were "don't eat each other."
.

This Sprinter is new to us. The old one had been converted to a camper and was always packed and ready to go. This truck is the replacement for our totaled van and we have not had time to build an interior.

A few weeks before this trip we did get a bed built that is easily removable and serves as a ramp. It's kind of a pain to have to completely empty and reload every time we go somewhere but we feel very fortunate to have the van regardless. We weren't sure we would be able to replace the Sprinter as State Farm was very difficult and reluctant to pay fair market value for the old one. This one is a 3500, heavier built and a dually.



The cylinder is a temporary water tank that holds 25 gallons. You can't believe how much floor space water takes if you don't have a creative way to carry a supply.

With the bikes off loaded we just have to go for a zoom around the camp.

Brave driving of a sprinter!