Tag: mountains

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Project Tundra

I’m watching an epic Arizona sunset from the bed of a truck parked on a volcano, and I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.  Stretched out before me is an endless expanse of Northern Arizona painted in the kinds of colors you find on Instagram when someone first discovers the saturation slider—but this isn’t an enhanced image.  This sunset, viewed from my current vantage point is the reason why we get outside: because outside is awesome.  The truck that got me here happens to be pretty awesome too, it’s a brand new 2017 Toyota Tundra.  And in it’s factory-stock form it happens to be a really capable vehicle, as evidenced by the fact that I’m not parked at the bottom of the volcano.

This Tundra is the platform that over the course of the next few months, with the help of some great companies, I’ll be building into a quiver-of-one adventure vehicle that will help me and my family do what we love: spend time outside.  To get an idea of where we’re going with this project Tundra, I need to give you an idea of what I’ve been doing with my current first-gen Tacoma.

Over the last ten years, I’ve taken my Tacoma all over the Western United States seeking out the ends of countless dirt roads, and dozens of awesome destinations.  I’ve cut first tracks and driven to the top of the San Juan Mountains only to pull out skis and venture further on when a snowbank blocks the road.  I’ve driven to the Eastern Rim of the Grand Canyon to learn from the locals about the many threats that face one of our Nation’s most iconic National Parks.  I’ve carried bikes, dirtbikes, skis, and all kinds of other gear on all kinds of adventures to explore our world.  While the Tundra will almost certainly never get to pass through a certain gate at the top of a certain iconic waterfall, it will be built to do everything that the Tacoma does, and more.  There are big plans in store for this project, but I’ve also been really enjoying my time with the stock truck.

Without changing a single part on the Tundra, I’ve had some great experiences with it.  I’ve gotten to spend time in the woods and on the Mogollon rim with my family, and everywhere else I’ve gone with the truck has helped me refine my plans of what attributes I want to enhance on the Tundra.  The objective is to build something where all of the changes and additions complement each other to bring the baseline performance of the truck up.  Rather than buy all of the things, we’re going to be adding and changing the things that make an impact and help us have a better experience outside.  With this approach in mind, the goals for the Tundra are:

  • Tackle terrain wherever I may roam. From the deserts of Utah to the high passes of the Rockies, the Tundra needs to inspire confidence in any terrain.
  • Carry gear for other sports: bikes, skis, SUPs, tow/haul dirtbikes, and other adventure gear.
  • Be a basecamp/support vehicle for adventure projects and remote, off-grid film projects (day job).
  • Carry the gear needed to safely travel into remote places and stay there for an extended period of time.
  • Be a reliable tool for my family and friends to explore and experience the world with.

The Tundra will wear many hats and fulfill many roles in the coming years.  It’s certainly a larger vehicle than my Tacoma, but that increase in size makes for some really exciting potential.  With two more doors and a backseat that someone bigger than a five year-old is stoked to sit in, the adventure and the experience can be shared with more people.  The 6.5 foot truck bed adds a few more inches of space that will allow the Tundra to swallow up bikes, skis, and other large pieces of gear with ease.  It’s also more than long enough for a couple of adults to sleep while fully stretched out, which is a great option when you’re going fast and light.  The power and towing increase over my Tacoma means that towing a trailer that’s ideally laden with motos or snowbikes or some other form of awesome is now a realistic idea.  The potential for the Tundra is great, and we’re just getting started.

Kicking off a build project is an exciting time—it’s really easy to get caught up in daydreaming about adventures to come and all of the great places to be explored.  Yet, I think that it’s also important to enjoy the moment and that simple fact that a stock vehicle can take you to some staggeringly-awesome places.  By getting the Tundra in the dirt from day one, I’ve now got a comprehensive understanding of where the baseline is for the truck, which means that I’ll be able to understand (and fully appreciate) how adding parts and making changes improves what can be done with the Tundra.  We will be documenting the process in a number of articles that you can find right here on American Adventurist, and I’ll be maintaining a build thread in the forums that will go into greater detail.  Here’s to new roads and new experience outdoors doing what we love.  Welcome to Project Tundra.

 

 

 

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Weekender: Winter Storm Warning

“You don’t have to see it to ski it” Forrest exclaimed as he surveyed the nondescript white-everything that was the world around us. “True story!” I replied with a laugh, pausing to look around and seeing nothing other than white in every direction. On a bluebird day, we would be standing on the top of a ridge at just shy of 13,000 feet above sea level in the San Juan Mountains. To the West, we would be able to see the La Sal Mountains outside of Moab, UT. And from the Northwest, circling around the compass in a clockwise orbit all the way to the Southwest, we should have stunning views of the Colorado Rockies. Yet today, we were standing in a ground blizzard with visibility at no more than 25 feet and the wind was actively trying to un-shoulder our skis. Our objective was a narrow chute carved into the Northwest ridge of Palmyra peak – and if my hunch was correct, it was going to be chock-full of fluffy new snow.

The series of events that lead Forrest and I to the place where ice was forming on the windward side of my face even without a beard started a few days ago, with conversations that tend to repeat themselves every time a snowstorm is on the horizon. When the predictions for total accumulation were measured in inches, talk of making a trip home to ski was casually brought up. When the total accumulation started closing in on a foot, and the Flagstaff school district started talking about snow days, we started seriously thinking about going skiing. And when the National Weather Service pulled out the serious red forecast background (it’s a thing) and started talking about feet of total accumulation, we knew we had to make it to Telluride. We would be travelling long after the storm had started to turn the Southwest white, but if the forecast panned out, we would be looking at some exceptional powder skiing conditions.

Our drive to Telluride took us through periods of intense snowfall that would stop just as suddenly as they would start. After exiting each period of precipitation, we would stop to de-ice our lights so that we could actually see to the end of our stopping distance on snow-packed roads. Outside of Rico, CO, snowfall was almost non-existent and we were able to take in the sheer volume of snow that had fallen in the San Juan Mountains. The snowbanks on either side of the highway were well over the roof of my truck. Conditions and coverage were going to be excellent for our weekend of skiing.

On Saturday, Forrest and I awoke to heavy snowfall that made the ski area’s report of one whole inch of snow seem like a mistake. We accepted the fact that we weren’t going to get to play in the bottomless powder that we had dreamt about, and opted to go enjoy some of the more technical chutes off of Palmyra peak that we really enjoy skiing. Yet by the time we were shouldering our skis for the hike to the chute, we were walking into a blizzard and there was definitely more than an inch of new snow on the ground.

We caught up to and passed another group of skiers on a steeper pitch of the hike. The lead skier was barely ten feet away from me when I turned back to snap a photo with my GoPro. By the time Forrest and I were stepping into our skis at the top of the chute more than a foot of new snow had fallen. Skiing out of the choke in the chute we were rewarded with bottomless new snow and visibility that allowed us to open the taps and ski fast.

Our run on the chute was the opening salvo to a weekend of world class skiing thanks to a storm that didn’t let up the entire time that we were in Colorado. Sunday was no less enjoyable and Forrest and I ran ourselves into the ground skiing in feet of fresh fluffy snow.

I know that many folks tend to discourage travel in inclement weather, but I’m here to tell you that it can be done safely. As long as you take your time and go prepared (for getting unstuck or an overnight in your car), a winter storm can be just part of the adventure.