As a Californian after several years of drought, I've had little experience with my rig in mud. However, that has changed due to this year's rain.
I live in Atascadero, which, when translated from Spanish to English, roughly means "bog" or a place to get stuck in. "Atascar" being the verb to be stuck or hindered.
Yes, it has rained in prior years since I've lived here and I have experienced thick "Frankenstein feet" from moving through my property in rubber boots. However, after this year's rains I discovered the true meaning of my city's namesake.
I've got a ride-on mower for keeping the weeds in check on my acre of natural land. I hadn't quite realized just how wet one section of my property was. It had been a couple of weeks since we'd had some rain. The mower got stuck fast in the lowest part of my property, where standing water had been.
Mrs. Love suggested I pull the mower out with the van. Naturally, I have watched many a YouTube video of Syncro Vanagons motoing in the mud and, of course, this gave me some confidence that simply pulling a mower out would be no problem. After all, I've got 29" tires, 6.17 gears, front and rear lockers. What could go wrong?
I opened the side gate and drove the van directly towards the mower. As I crossed into the mud and stopped short of the mower I realized that I, perhaps, made an error of judgement. When I climbed out, the van was sitting deep in mud, was now at a standstill and all four tires were at around 44 psi for highway use.
I hitched the mower to my front shackle and climbed back into the van. I selected reverse and let in the clutch. My wheels spun and I didn't move. I pulled my rear and front locker knobs and tried again. All four wheel spun and I could feel myself sinking.
I aired down as low as I dared. I grabbed three 3' planks of 2x6, a shovel and a sledge hammer. I shoveled away mud and set the planks under the tires with a sledge hammer. I climbed back in the van and tried again. All four wheels spun and I was now deeper. I begin kicking myself for not installing the wiring for my brand new winch sitting on it's hitch mount lying on the garage floor.
At this stage, my neighbor figured out what was going on and brought over his tractor to pull me out; not without some serious effort I might add.
Fast forward to this past week. We've driven up to the Plumas National Forest and are checking out some of the Forestry routes near La Porte, CA.
We encounter a large vehicle-length mud puddle with water and stop to discuss. We are gun shy of mud after my aforementioned wing clipping. We are alone. I still haven't installed my fore and aft wiring for my winch, which is still sitting on the garage floor at home.
I engaged the front and rear lockers. We decide that it would probably be smart to negotiate the puddle from the left with two wheels on firmer soil. I select Low and begin our crossing. The firmer soil turns out to be soft mud and the wheels sink down into it very similarly to what happened in our backyard. I keep my foot in it, there is some slipping, some high revs and we sweat it through to the other side leaving a significant rut where our left wheels carved through the mud.
As we continued down the road we came to a section that was similar to what we just crossed, but for an extended length. Given the road being a dead-end, we pulled the plug and turned around. We made it back across the original puddle — this time with the right wheels in our rut, but not without revs and slippage.
As we continued down alternate forks of this road, we encountered more mud puddles, however not as intimidating as the previous one. I took a more courageous approach to them and simply drove through them rather than attempting to have two wheels on "dry" ground. Mrs. Love's hand was tighter around the grab handle for it, however we seemed to just blaze through them like it wasn't really any big deal.
What I want to know is what is the best way to approach these things? My theory is to take the puddles straight through. I figure they were made by vehicular traffic and the earth within them will be more compressed than that of "virgin" soil, which is more apt to be soft and cause sinking to occur. Obviously, momentum is important, too. We laughingly came up with a #nowisnotthetimeforsocialmedia hash tag after having stopped in deep snow earlier in the day for an Instagram moment, which nearly stuck us. I know I probably made things harder by not airing down. The reason for this was the roads were frequently impassable and we were often right back on the pavement seeking out another Forestry route.
For those who have bared my story telling to get this far (clearly, I enjoy reading/writing), what is the consensus for traveling on mixed condition roads like this? What are some secrets to successful mud negotiation?
Sent from my iPhone using OB Talk
I live in Atascadero, which, when translated from Spanish to English, roughly means "bog" or a place to get stuck in. "Atascar" being the verb to be stuck or hindered.
Yes, it has rained in prior years since I've lived here and I have experienced thick "Frankenstein feet" from moving through my property in rubber boots. However, after this year's rains I discovered the true meaning of my city's namesake.
I've got a ride-on mower for keeping the weeds in check on my acre of natural land. I hadn't quite realized just how wet one section of my property was. It had been a couple of weeks since we'd had some rain. The mower got stuck fast in the lowest part of my property, where standing water had been.
Mrs. Love suggested I pull the mower out with the van. Naturally, I have watched many a YouTube video of Syncro Vanagons motoing in the mud and, of course, this gave me some confidence that simply pulling a mower out would be no problem. After all, I've got 29" tires, 6.17 gears, front and rear lockers. What could go wrong?
I opened the side gate and drove the van directly towards the mower. As I crossed into the mud and stopped short of the mower I realized that I, perhaps, made an error of judgement. When I climbed out, the van was sitting deep in mud, was now at a standstill and all four tires were at around 44 psi for highway use.
I hitched the mower to my front shackle and climbed back into the van. I selected reverse and let in the clutch. My wheels spun and I didn't move. I pulled my rear and front locker knobs and tried again. All four wheel spun and I could feel myself sinking.
I aired down as low as I dared. I grabbed three 3' planks of 2x6, a shovel and a sledge hammer. I shoveled away mud and set the planks under the tires with a sledge hammer. I climbed back in the van and tried again. All four wheels spun and I was now deeper. I begin kicking myself for not installing the wiring for my brand new winch sitting on it's hitch mount lying on the garage floor.
At this stage, my neighbor figured out what was going on and brought over his tractor to pull me out; not without some serious effort I might add.
Fast forward to this past week. We've driven up to the Plumas National Forest and are checking out some of the Forestry routes near La Porte, CA.
We encounter a large vehicle-length mud puddle with water and stop to discuss. We are gun shy of mud after my aforementioned wing clipping. We are alone. I still haven't installed my fore and aft wiring for my winch, which is still sitting on the garage floor at home.
I engaged the front and rear lockers. We decide that it would probably be smart to negotiate the puddle from the left with two wheels on firmer soil. I select Low and begin our crossing. The firmer soil turns out to be soft mud and the wheels sink down into it very similarly to what happened in our backyard. I keep my foot in it, there is some slipping, some high revs and we sweat it through to the other side leaving a significant rut where our left wheels carved through the mud.
As we continued down the road we came to a section that was similar to what we just crossed, but for an extended length. Given the road being a dead-end, we pulled the plug and turned around. We made it back across the original puddle — this time with the right wheels in our rut, but not without revs and slippage.
As we continued down alternate forks of this road, we encountered more mud puddles, however not as intimidating as the previous one. I took a more courageous approach to them and simply drove through them rather than attempting to have two wheels on "dry" ground. Mrs. Love's hand was tighter around the grab handle for it, however we seemed to just blaze through them like it wasn't really any big deal.
What I want to know is what is the best way to approach these things? My theory is to take the puddles straight through. I figure they were made by vehicular traffic and the earth within them will be more compressed than that of "virgin" soil, which is more apt to be soft and cause sinking to occur. Obviously, momentum is important, too. We laughingly came up with a #nowisnotthetimeforsocialmedia hash tag after having stopped in deep snow earlier in the day for an Instagram moment, which nearly stuck us. I know I probably made things harder by not airing down. The reason for this was the roads were frequently impassable and we were often right back on the pavement seeking out another Forestry route.
For those who have bared my story telling to get this far (clearly, I enjoy reading/writing), what is the consensus for traveling on mixed condition roads like this? What are some secrets to successful mud negotiation?
Sent from my iPhone using OB Talk
