Date: Mon, 15 May 95 15:40:01 -0700 From: "TeriAnn Wakeman" Subject: Suds triangle In message <199505152044.NAA16282@owens.ridgecrest.ca.us> writes: > > I was still looking for a Suds Triangle story! C'mon people share the fun, > tales, lessons, adventures and keep the hangovers. > I suspect most people didn't get to bed Sunday evening until sometime Monday. You'll get a better story when the others come fully awake. Hangovers? Lets see, I think I got the equiv of 3 pints of ale the whole weekend. I noticed Vance was drinking iced tea at the last stop. Most of the beer was consumed Sat evening during & after dinner. I think the real heavy drinkers may have had a much as 3 beers during dinner & the oblig. chatter session that lasted 'till about 2 AM. All & all there wasn't a whole lot of drinking going on. I didn't notice more than one per person per micro brewery stop and everyone was eating food with it. No one came even remotly close to hangovers, or slightly intoxicated driving. There was a whole lot of driving and a lot of talking, which was really the point of the trip. I'm sure others can fill in the trip better than I (lack of sleep/cold/cold remedies that turn off most brain functions). My part started by trying to meet people at the Berkeley REI. Mind you, I live in Santa Cruz and haven't been to Berkely for at least 10 years. I was told to come up #880 and turn off at the Gilman exit. No problem....except the 880 freeway ended just Northish of downtown Oakland without a Gilman. I assumed I missed the exit and backtracked a town or two before stopping for info. I was told that 880 fell down in the Loma Prieta quake and that I should take the freeway that went off to the right and follow the signs for Berkley. I went back, took the freeway that branched off to the right (inland) just before 880 stopped. I soon saw a sign for Berkley and thought I was going to just make the 2:30 meeting time....until I found myself going through the caldicot tunnel that is. When I got through the tounnel I noticed the traffic going the other way was at a standstill and decided that Berkely had ceased to exist since i was last there and that I had better make for the camp ground. So I took my trusty 109 over the benecia bridge, up to vallijo and up #24 and along #128. I had a lovely tour through Napa valley, up 101 and back on #128 into booten. There I cought up with the REI group at the micro brewery as they were getting ready to leave. I purchased a pint to go of a really nice amber ale for dinner and set off with the others for the camp ground. Morgan was already there with his white 88 waiting for us. So we set up camp, got ready for the rain that did not come and prepaired dinner. At this point were were 7 people with 1 D90 (Spot), 4 88s, and one 109 (mine). We had dinner than sat around the fire chatting. It was a lovely evening. Next morning there was a large amount of caffene consumed, gear was loaded and we returned to Booten where we had brunch & partook from a brew sample spread. The quantities were small but everyone got a taste of each brew they cared to try. Afterwards we followed Morgan to a "short cut" to the coast. All except for Spot's owners who decided to hold spot in reserve and go shoping instead. Wheels locked, we set off up this windy unmaintained dirt/mud logging road. There was only one switchback the 109 needed to backup once to get around. We spent the trip going over rough road, dodging parts of trees, slides & such, churning deeper trenches into mud whose testure reminded me of fresh mixed cement and fording puddles. Most puddles were just that, but there were a few interesting ones that put bow waves over the front of the bonnets and a 1/4 inch layer of mud into the floor of my 109. On one long puddle I tried to change sides of the ruts and found the front wheels of the 109 crabbing up one rut and the rear wheels crabbing in the other side. i stopped then the bank was getting a little close to the front bumper (mostly out of the puddle), backed to straighten the car then continued out. It was a fun time and a good test of my internal tie downs for my camping gear. We eventually made it out and headed up the coast to Fort Bragg, the #2 micro brewery on the triangle to find it closed. and was joined by our friend spot ready to take on the world to make up for missing the first leg. Undaunted, we headed off to the second unmaintained dirt road. It started off easy with a few minor obsticals and water filled pot holes. Not even close to the challanges for the first run...then the column came to an abrupt halt. I got out & walked up to the front to see what the problem was. Everyone was galking at an uphill ... well it reminded me of rutted peanut butter with ruts that looked like it was made from tractors with lots of gound clearence. Of course there was water coming down this section. Jim looked at Vance "You want to do it?" Vance looked at Morgan and said" maybe you should go first?" I thought we should let Mikey do it, but there was no Mikey to rise to the challange. But with a mighty V8 roar Spot the super 90 rose to the challange where the series owners feared to tread. Some say it was because Spot felt bad about being the only clean Land Rover in the bunch and wanted to make up for it by becoming the group's champion, others thought Spot's owners just wanted to be first to the next pub. But all agreed that Spot, being the most off road capable Land Rover in the group with the best tyres should be our champion. With a mighty v8 rumble Spot charged the bog and highended about 3/4 of the way through. Still game, the mighty Spot backed up slightly and tried it again and again from all the approach angles, plowing a farrow through the center with the front diff, tyres desperatly trying to find a grip in what couldn't be described as mud or liqued. Finally, after making a challange the series cars could only dream about, showing extream suspension articulation, and turning up a lot of mud, the mighty Spot gave up and left the ground to the sludge and running water. There was some talk of winching the group through, but a local told us there was a worse uphill patch about 5 miles farther along, and it was about 4:30 PM Sunday, and it was starting to sprinkle, and we did not want to turn the suds triangle to turn into a suds singularity, we turned the rigs around and went by paved road to our last microbrewery where we had dinner, met Granville and had a last pint. Since it was about 7:30PM by then and I had a 4 hour drive left to go, I said my goodbys and headed home. Other than some minor brake problems, The Green Rover ran her first trip after the Portland All British Field meet flawlessly. The newly rebuilt engine (this time without the dirt in the crankcase) and the rebuilt transmission with the new layshaft performed flawlessly. This weekend it will be time to give her an oil change, retorque the head & adjust the valves. And maybe take a few pounds of mud off the car. All & all it was a very good time. it would have been better if Joe L. had adjusted to timing so we started earlier in the weekend. And one of these years, I'll have to pack up the Green Rover for a major expidition and go forth to try to locate the fabled lost city of Berkeley. TeriAnn Wakeman .sig closed for remodeling twakeman@apple.com ---------------------------------------------------------- From: "Mugele, Gerry" Subject: Suds Run Date: Mon, 15 May 95 17:14:00 PDT Okay, okay...we didn t have a Granville to report of the goings-on on the Ale Trail of the Suds Triangle Run, and since no one else has foolishly leaped into the breach; I ll be the one to get it all wrong. The plan was organized by Morgan with guidance from Mendocino local PCLROer, Granville Motor Pool. Since most of us were unable to arrive before Saturday evening it was decided that that was to be official gathering/meeting time. Morgan was going to spend Saturday in the wilds of Western Mendocino county having intimate contact with an assortment of invertebrates and then late in the day stake out some camp-sites in Paul Dimmick State Campground a bit north/west of the town of Navarro on highway 128. Well, Navarro is not a town exactly; more like a store/deli/garage/post office/wide spot in the road. The campground is a really glorious spot deep in the redwoods on the banks of the Navarro River. Meanwhile in the east bay; Vance and Jim Russell were going to convoy and I think intended to meet with Jimmy Patrick and TeriAnne. Something went awry however and TeriAnne (and maybe Jimmy too) went up without the rest of the pack for protection. Bruce and Stephanie also made it up there independently. From the tales I heard, this rowdy group kept all the other campers awake until well after midnight. Well they would have if there had been any other campers. The Ale was being consumed early on. Lilly and I had a tough day counting birds Saturday and we were somewhat disheartened by the weather. Yes Northern California is finally getting some of that much needed rain (again). In Sonoma county we had some very serious rain Saturday afternoon. So we were overcome by a fit of good sense and decided to spend the night under our own roof. At 6:00 am we had Gooey loaded up, left Glen Ellen and hit the road with the weasel bouncing around the back of Gooey. Got to Booneville about 8:15. The gas station was just opening and we fueled up. Time was a consideration since I was a little concerned that we might miss these guys if they broke camp early. Silly me. We rolled into Dimmick at about 8:45 and it looked as though the previous evening was still in the faces of those gathered around TeriAnne s stove. We spent an hour and a half inspecting vehicles, discussing various important world events and developing plans to save the universe. And I forgot to filch Morgan s Land Rover World magazine collection. Eventually it looked as though most of the gear was stowed and the campground cleaned up; maybe we d be on the trail. Not so...Morgan announced that he needed some porridge for breakfast. So we drove the twenty some miles back down 128 to the thriving metropolis of Booneville. It was interesting to see the reactions on the faces of those that noticed a line of seven Land Rovers cruising the country side. Upon entering downtown Booneville it was clear that the parking spaces directly in front of the Anderson Valley Brewing Company were all empty. Jimmy and Mabel were leading our entourage and in a beautifully executed maneuver made the left into first parking spot. The rest of the crew followed, peeling off like WW II fighter planes filling the remaining parking places across the front of the establishment. It was as though it had been choreographed. Wish I had a video of that. But alas, disappointment. The place was closed and Morgan s porridge was being held captive inside! They don t open until AFTER 11:00am. We stood about and admired our L-Rs, took photographs and enjoyed the moment. Eventually the staff was cajoled enough to open the doors and allow us to take possession. We occupied back of the main floor by the windows and had a great view of the hills of Anderson Valley and a very popular hummingbird feeder. I think we all chose to begin our day of ale-ment by trying the sampler: eight glasses of different brews/blends. It was great. Snacks for some finished out the brunch and we were back on 128 west bound before 1:00 pm. Hey, what happened to Bruce, Stephanie and Spot. They were parked right there and then when we got up to speed they weren t in the convoy!. At the Comptche turn off we slowed and took the next turn off for Navarro Ridge Rd. We waited. No Bruce. Waited some more...no Bruce. Hmmm....no response on channel 7. While we waited Morgan found that the Weasel is a really brutal music critic. He got out his guitar and she complained. Lilly had some difficulty convincing her that Morgan actually meant no harm. She s still suspicious. Maybe we should get Morgan a saxophone... Waiting got boring and we gave up. Onward without Bruce & co. The storms and late rains have obviously played havoc with the landscape and much of the former forest canopy is now occupying the road bed. Land Rovers are tough though and can crunch wind fall branches with no problems. We could have used some hydrologists however to explain the best technique in puddle fording. No Jim didn t sink...but a couple of those puddles seemed to have had the bottom removed. The soil on those ridges seems to be specially formulated to load tires quickly and provide minimal friction. We all had some slippages and mud flinging thus providing interesting accents to our fabulous L-R paint schemes. TeriAnne provided one of the more interesting moments on a particularly slippery and narrow bit. She demonstrated that a 109 is particularly adept at making sure the road is clear while simultaneously scraping the brush on both sides of the road while driving diagonally. It s just a matter of putting the fronts in the right rut and the rears in the left rut and then navigating by looking out the driver s window. Interesting technique indeed. Nice job TeriAnne. It was just a bit after that that Vance demonstrated his self folding rear step. Now I didn t realize that such frivolous options were available for the workhorse 88, but you learn new things every day. Vance simply drove into a particularly gooey, slippery mud hole and chose to follow the ruts. On exit the depth of the ruts allowed very little clearance for the rear bumper/frame member. The step was just slammed upward into the stowage position. Neat. Hey...this is getting long. I ll hafta finish tomorrow. Unless someone want to hop in here and bail me out.