Pakkuraba’s 10th Badge: Blood, Mud, And Beers

Last September, when I purchased my Toyota 4Runner (TEQ), I think I sold my soul. I signed the paperwork in my own blood, and made a promise to myself that I would do anything, at all costs, to pay for this thing. I am currently working 60 hours a week, and I don’t even mind, it’s all for the cause. And so on the first of each month, I celebrate making my TEQ Pakkuraba payment by drinking Kirin Ichiban — a lovely Japanese rice lager.

When I get to do this at the sacred lake, it’s even more special. Anyway, this weekend was a rare two-nighter. The weird thing is I did a two-nighter on this weekend last year as well. I remember because the Friday I arrived was on Cinco de Mayo. This year Cinco de Mayo was/is on Sunday, and I left in the pouring rain:

I can tell you this is every camping nightmare imagined. My idea of fun doesn’t involve putting away a tent in the rain, but I managed: I left the rainfly on it as I took the poles down from the inside, then I simply folded it up and put it in a trash bag:

I have to admit it worked well, but now I have to figure out how to dry a 4-person tent at home with no sun expected until Tuesday. That was the worst of it, the rest of the weekend was, despite the overcast skies, quite lovely.

Friday evening got a little dicey, as I stabbed my left big toe with a stick and almost bled out. When I eventually do die, I’d like to die doing what I love, which is camping, so I almost did that. Just another war story … I patched my toe up, which is not the first toe injury I’ve had at the campsite. I’m becoming good at fixing bloody toes. I digress.

Saturday morning, the flood gates opened — literally. The spillway at the sacred lake was gushing because of recent flooding. I have been waiting to fish the spillway for two years, and I finally got my chance, only to catch zero fish.

The garfish were everywhere. They did not want my homemade rope lure. They surfaced like submarines constantly. Maybe next time … I miss catching Teri Garfish.

I made my way back to camp and tried a new camp meal idea: Johnsonville pre-cooked smoked brats with diced potatoes. I had to pair it with the official camping brew of Charles Latrans: Coors Banquet. Honestly, I liked this meal. Extremely cheap, extremely easy. That’s what camping meals should be. Latrans is a meat-and-potatoes kinda guy. Always.

The Pakkuraba got some jewelry — the Trasharoo from 4Runner Lifestyle. It’s brilliant. It’s made to fit over the spare tire, but pakku’s spare is underneath, but it still works great on the Gobi ladder. In fact I left it on and drove 20 miles down dirt roads and it didn’t flap or rattle or move at all. What it does is offer a place to haul your trash when you leave the campsite. So your spouse won’t have to hold the trash bag on the way to the nearest dumpster (lol).

The Kelty Waypoint tarp is reborn! I used to love this thing on my previous Jeep Patriot. I was only able to use it on Shi after installing the Gobi roof rack, but it works. The only down side, if there is one, is that the back hatch of the 4R doesn’t stay up very well when opening it, because of the weight of the ladder and the tightness of the tarp. But, the hatch can be opened for access to the back of the Japanese pack mule if needed. I might need to find some kind of retractable pole to use to prop the hatch with.

Lastly, I leave you with this image. I noticed something disturbing when I looked at it this morning, do you see it? Look at the sky …

Apparently, during last night’s campfire, the ghost of my cat Louis was staring down at me from Heaven. I see a cat, his eye, the bridge of his nose … I literally don’t know what this is, but it’s probably why people believe in UFO’s. Weird glitches, reflections, shit in the air. Or, my cat’s ghost face staring straight into my soul ….

Pakkuraba’s 9th Camping Badge: An Ode To Kansas

Kansas, My Kansas. I love you so. Prevailing southerly winds. Blue skies. Rolling hills. Post oak savanna. Prairie grass. Coyotes. Gravel roads. Black cattle. Sandstone. Limestone. Olive-colored lakes. I fucking love you. Pakku got a good taste of Kansas yesterday. I almost — almost took her on an actual trail, but I chickened out. I have a very low amount of trail confidence, in fact I have none. She will teach me slowly, we’ll get there one day.

My Detroit Tigers lid came with me, as well as the current book I’m reading about Ty Cobb — the fucking best baseball player in the history of the game and I’ll argue that forever. What a man. I’m reading the book because apparently he is known worldwide as a fucking asshole racist, a real bad dude. Only 4 people from baseball went to his funeral, if that gives you an idea of how disliked he was. BUT — this book refutes these things … Ty Cobb was not all of those bad things. Anyway. Great reading so far. Back to camping …

Those prevailing southerlies did come, but overall it was a gorgeous weekend full of blue skies and sunny warmth. My arms were soaked in the holy Hawaiian Tropic SPF 30 sunscreen. The aroma of coconut, frozen shrimp (bait), and Deep Woods Off mesmerized me. Lunch time came and I decided to eat cheap — bean quesadillas and cilantro-lime rice from the package.

Refried beans and cheddar-jack cheese. I brought diced jalapeños but did not add those, sadly. The meal was okay but very uninspiring. I’ll try better next time. After I cleaned up camp, I took Pakku to a special place …

It’s a river crossing with a history I have not researched yet, but it is a good 20 mile trek down gravel roads out in the proverbial Middle Of Nowhere. The river is clean and beautiful, with its limestone bed.

I tried to get as dirty as possible. Baptized by Kansas. Later in the afternoon I took a shower at the bathhouse, still one of the best things ever.

I had to camp at my old campsite where I’d camped 32 times before. I didn’t really plan on it, but I pulled in Saturday morning and found my first two choices occupied. It always freaks me out when that happens but Plan C worked fine, it was nice to be back at the ol’ home.

I have 3 more trips planned before we go to Colorado for my 100th trip. I could probably sneak in an extra trip before then but I want Colorado to be 100.

The only down side to the weekend is Pakkuraba’s gas mileage. She barely got 17 mpg on the way to the lake, and only 15.7 mpg on the way home. Yikes! I’m guessing with three kids, a 70-pound dog, and my beautiful wife and even more camping gear, our Colorado trip will be insanely horrible — 12.5, 13 mpg? I better start saving money now LOL.

Arlo still waiting for his first Campout this year …. Maybe next time, buddy.

Pakkuraba’s New Easter Shoes And Bucket List Items

My new religion, my new sin, is nearing its completion. And let me re-iterate this first — I feel disgusting posting things like this. I am not a materialistic guy, I hate showing things off. I’m a T-shirt and jeans guy who keeps the same t-shirts for decades. I do, however, love camping gear, I’ll show that stuff off because it’s generally affordable. Posting things about vehicles feels different. But I’m only doing this in the name of Camping.

My wife told me once that I need to stop compromising, if you want something then go for it and get what you really want. A few months ago on a camping trip I read this billboard at a small town community center that read: “I’m stuck between save for the future and you only live once.” And that, that sums up a lot of my thinking. However, I’ve decided to throw all of my cards on the table. I might die tomorrow. My plan for my Nihon no Pakkuraba (Japanese pack mule) was to slowly add mods over a 3-4 year period. Responsibly pay off each addition before adding the next. Nope. Fuck it, scorched earth policy is in effect.

Anyway, her new Easter shoes are BF Goodrich KO2. The important thing was the TRD black wheels. These should be mandatory stock, but Toyota wouldn’t make money on that. It sucks to replace brand new tires and wheels after only 6K miles, but by God the difference is profound. But now, finally, I can go to the real backwoods, I can finally drive up to Mirror Lake without worrying about ripping off a gas tank or getting a tire puncture. And now I can explore, and go “overlanding” in earnest. And for this, I must ask my God to forgive me for my sins of my Japanese pack mule worship.

The Gobi roof rack is in the garage awaiting install, which I will have to do myself in a few weeks. I would like to add a few more things, but am in no hurry — an awning, some outside Molle panels with gas/water carriers, and maybe some smoked out tail lights. Maybe, just maybe a leveling kit — but for now she is done.

I’ve never had a bucket list, because in a sad, weird way, I think bucket lists are depressing. I love the idea, but it seems like most bucket lists are things people will never achieve but dream of, of course. Hey, dreaming is free, after all. But I’m more of a literal guy, I need attainable goals. Over the last 3 years, a bucket list has been created in my life, and it has one item on it, and only one. Well, maybe two. But target #1 is visiting the Battle of the Little Bighorn National Monument in Montana. I have been meticulously reading about this subject for 2-3 years now, and I’ve reached the too-late-to-turn-back moment now. I need to see where Custer breathed his last breath, where the Sioux wiped out the 7th Cavalry. Where, where … once upon a time, life was untamed and natural. Cowboys and Indians and cavalry. This is the culture I am in love with. The 19th Century. Fuck technology.

So this summer, God willing, I’m planning on taking my wife and dog on the 15-hour roadie to the Crow Reservation in southwestern Montana to visit the sacred battlefield. We will camp along the way at a white sand beach lake in Nebraska — surreal. We might camp in the Big Horn mountains in Wyoming. I still need to do logistics. It’ll be a “quick” 4-day trip, the only cost will be fuel and food, so this won’t be too costly ($3.19 per gallon for 1,000 miles, fuck my life). LOL

Life is moving too fast. 60-hour workweeks are normal now. The camping rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper through my soul. The bucket list might grow. My wife and I want to move to Texas. But like I said, these bucket list items seem too hard to reach sometimes. One day at a time.

Pakkuraba’s 8th Kansas Voyage: The Fishing Gods Are Angry

The 8th Camping Merit Badge has been earned, and the badge beautifully illustrates the sad inner-most workings of my brain. As a general rule, I am a nice person and I don’t believe in “burning bridges” because you know, that shit will come back to haunt you. You never know. Having said that, I LOVE burning bridges when people do me wrong. I have had a couple of friends in my lifetime who I’ve burned the proverbial bridge with, and my way of lighting those bridges on fire was by disappearing from their lives by changing addresses, phone numbers, etc. Lessons in How To Disappear Completely. Then last week I broke up with my local Mazda dealership where I’d been servicing my Mazda over the last 18 years. They kept taking advantage of me so finally I filled out their damn survey that that persisted I take, and well, I burned that motherfucker to the ground. Needless to say, I’ll never be returning there as long as God gives me breathes to breathe. Anyway — I love my new angry, bitter patch for the Japanese pakkuraba.

This camping trip has three talking points, two of which will be gear reviews in two other posts. So that leaves me with the main topic, and I’m going to get straight to the point: a fish — or lake monster? — dragged one of my rods and reels into the lake and disappeared into the murky depths. I’m not making this up.

Sometime around 2:00 p.m. I was cooking up a couple of big cheeseburgers on my camp stove. After I ate and cleaned up some dishes, I walked down to the shore to find this:

My second rod and reel was about 5 yards away, perfectly erect. Nobody could have stolen it, because I was the only one at the lake — and who in the hell is stealing a cheap rod and reel that’s got a line in the water. Here’s what scares me …. Earlier I caught a 7.47 pound catfish, and although it did knock the rod down from the holder (the shore is rocky and the holders are not firmly in the ground) the rod just sat there and didn’t budge. So if a 7 pound cat can’t move a rod, what in the fuck could drag a rod into the lake, over rocky ground, mind you ….? I don’t know, and it’s going to haunt me forever. It didn’t dawn on me to wade into the lake a few yards and at least see if the rod was hung up on the bottom. I brought extra shoes and I always have 2-3 days of extra clothing, so I could have done that. Honestly, next time I go there I’m going to do just that. Except now I don’t know exactly where I had the rod, maybe I can figure it out from the photo when I get there. The fishing gods must be angry with me, I don’t know. I once had a rod dragged into a pond by a large carp, but the rod was a lot lighter and it was sitting on a grassy bank. This is different. Anyway, here’s proof of said 7.47:

My wife says I look like I’m in Alaska. Nope, just some classic, blustery Kansas springtime weather. I love it.

Overall, a pretty interesting weekend, and the first trip using my molle panel system in the 4R. I don’t really have it figured out yet — it’s one of those things that have no right or wrong way, it’s totally up to the user.

I did add this amazing paper towel holder that I bought on Etsy. It’s pretty great, but I didn’t spend $$$ on these panels for a freaking paper towel system. The molle bags are useful for small things like sleep pad air pumps, Solar lights, chargers, etc.

My top shelf is still not figured. I mean half of the shelf is used for a pillow? That’s dumb. I put a pot set up there that I didn’t even end up using. This will take some time to figure out. I want a defined system and packing pattern — I’m OCD like crazy, and I need my packing system to be sharp and exact.

This concludes the broadcast. I guess next weekend I get the pleasure of buying a new fishing rod and reel. Thanks, fishing gods. That poor thing that dragged it into the lake is the one suffering now. I hope we meet someday soon.

Notes From Her 7th Voyage: Spirit Animal, God Of Wind

I’m still experimenting with post format, ideas, etc. I thought about giving up my camping recaps but I just can’t. But what I will do here is slim it down, post only the main moments. One such moment is that of the Ran’na earning her seventh camping merit badge: Wile E. Coyote’s business card. I love that dude.

The weather finally brought prevailing southerly winds upwards of 20 mph. Cloudless, gorgeous blue skies. Warm temps reaching the mid-70’s but never warm enough to strip down to short sleeves. I love Kansas.

New camp meal: homemade chili mac! There is a hint of redneck white trash flair about this that I love, but it was pretty easy to make so I thought I’d try. The end result was slightly disappointing. It filled me up but it wasn’t exactly “delicious” — and that’s probably to be expected. I was going to go with steak and rice, but I needed to try this new meal idea. I think I’ve earned a steak for my next trip, but all being said, I loved the experimenting.

I took the Nature Hike Opalus 3 again, against my better judgment. It took me 17 minutes to pitch it, and 3 minutes to take it down because I rolled it up and threw it in the back seat — that tent is impossible to put away in wind. I’d have more fun trying to put toothpaste back in a tube. Also, the tent stakes are cheap garbage. I broke two of them, which is ironic since the ground was slightly moist and the last time it was cold and frozen where I had no problems. Oh well, I’ll get some non-OEM stakes for this tent.

Lastly, I found a great blanket at Sierra Trading Post (I fucking love that store). It was only $20 and it’s gorgeous. Sierra Trading is a great store to find cheap camping items. The place is bad for people like me because they have a lot of impulse items. Tons of dog toys and such. Clothing. Drinking things. Anyway. It was a good camping trip. I’ll be home the next two weekends at least doing mods and maintenance to the pakkuraba.