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December 2006

Mark Twain National Forest: Piney Creek Wilderness

as submitted by Kevin McLeod

We had our first snow of the season in Southwest Missouri on Thursday, November 30th. A good snow is not all that common in this area of the country, so Ryan and I wanting to take advantage of it, headed south towards the Cassville district of the Mark Twain National forest on Saturday, for a night of winter camping. We chose to camp in the Piney Creek Wilderness area near a defunct fire lookout. The evening was mild and in the high 30's, which allowed the fresh snow to begin to melt. As the sun went down we knew we were in for a chilly night, the temperature eventually dipping in to the single digits as another cold wind moved in from the North. The night was enjoyable with good food, beer, fire, and conversation, rejuvenating our "spirits", we slept well that night.

The next morning we rose early, stoked the fire for warmth, and eventually left camp in search of some interesting forest roads in the area. I found a 4x4 trail on the gazetteer that I wanted to attempt, but on the way there I veered off the road when I sighted the first marked forest road. We proceeded down forest road 1157, passed a couple of hunters trying to keep warm in their pick-up trucks, took a turn on to 1157A and followed it down in to a valley. We eventually reached a dead end at a gate with a sign that stated we had reached private property, in what is clearly marked on the map as public land.

Regardless, I turned George (bus) around and headed back up the gradual incline and again proceeded down FR1157 until it began to split in several directions. We decided to follow some ATV tracks that were stamped in to the snow on one of its many un-marked branches. The first hill we went down was slippery and I was already figuring it was going to take some real effort to get back up it: we would probably need chains. On the way down the weather-worn, icy trail, I tapped the brakes and the bus slid at an angle and bumped the front right corner up against a small ditch. After observing that there was no damage other than a loose hubcap, we proceeded on and reached a good turn around spot. I told Ryan that we should probably head back, but he wanted to continue (that's my version, his may differ) and hell, why not? It's better than watching television.

The road that lay around the next bend looked good and gnarly. On top of that, as were the rest of the roads we had traveled thus far, it was washed out, covered with an inch and a half of ice, and another inch or more of fresh snow. We bounced and slid our way down to the bottom of the hill where I determined that snow chains needed to be installed since it wasn't looking like it was going to get any better before it got worse. With chains installed, and the logs up on the rack re-secured, we continued to wind through the forest, passing a few sections of green, tall pines, until we reached yet another gate and sign that, although aged to the point that it was unreadable, allowed us to infer that we should probably "keep out", the cow-infested, treeless pasture (not to be mistaken with a grassland) on the other side, was private land.

I turned the bus around and as we headed back the way we came, the traction difficulties began. The first good hill we reached got us stuck about half way up it on the steepest section. Another attempt produced the same result, except that the smell of a burning clutch caused me pause and shut the bus down. The right rear wheel had dug a nice hole, while the left front wheel hovered over the ground, causing the bus to teeter and loose traction. Now if I had only installed my steering brake, as I intended to, I could have locked the right rear wheel and continued on. Instead, we used my extra-short, hand-me-down come-along and a strap to assist dragging the bus approximately 75 feet, in a very substantial amount of time (lets say more than two hours).

Ryan insisted that we give the bus a go despite my lack of confidence in its ability to make it up the grade. I got in my loaf of bread on wheels, rocked it in first with the clutch, and got going again. I proceeded to make it most of the way up this time before getting stuck. We used the come-along to work it up ever-too-slowly and decided to give it another go. Again, George climbed right up to the top.

When we reached the next big hill I was more confident in the snow and ice climbing capabilities of my kombi and made it most of the way up before it slowed to the point of stuckage. Rocking the bus in first produced the desired result; the tiny engine chugging, tires spitting mud and snow out the backside, all the way up to the top of the last hill.

We finished the remainder of the road with ease, splashing through mostly frozen mud puddles until we reached pavement. The cold puddles mixed with the below freezing temperatures, produced a layer of solid ice on the underside that resulted in some trouble with the shift rod repeatedly freezing to the guide on the way home. I insist that the missing pedal pan is the culprit, not my driving style!

I've got to state that the old VW split bus never ceases to amaze me with its versatility, simplicity, and capability. Everywhere you take the bus, adventure and good times will follow! -Kevin McLeod 4-Dec-2006

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