Tiny House On A Steel Soldier…………….Expedition Notes.

Fuel Tank Problems Stranded Again in Beaverton Oregon

Having solved the PCB problem we quickly returned to normal life enjoying the many large flower gardens, museums, and parks in the Portland area. We chose to sleep between two different truck stops one being near the Portland airport the other heading towards Eugene. Not having a shower installed yet in the Tiny House On A a Steel Soldier and the fact that there is five of us in a small space. Showers and laundry become a daily unavoidable priority.

Heading into the town of Beaverton after taking showers at the Portland truck stop we had found a unique laundry mat that had a great tasting Portland style food trucks out in its parking lot. Doing laundry while sampling each of the food trucks turned out to be quite a treat making washing clothing almost something to look forward too. After finishing laundry my wife wanted to head to the more ritzy side of town to hit a mall that had a Macy’s.

A few blocks from the mall while idling in heavy traffic at a stop light, the M931a2 engine starts to die like it was running out of fuel. I quickly look seeing I had a 8th of a tank still showing on the gauge, I reach down to switch to the full tank. To my horror the truck continues to sputter then it dies in the middle of a incredibly busy intersection. Lucky for us there was just the slightest grade heading in the right direction that we were able to role into a parking lot. The truck was blocking a parking lot right of way, but people we driving around us without much issue.

I knew I had a full tank on the passenger side, after double checking that I had the fuel valve pointed to the correct tank. I tried starting the truck with know hint of a chance of it firing. So I jumped out, opened the hood, loosen the bleed screw on the injection pump, and started hand pumping the manual fuel pump prime. After pumping for fifteen minutes with know luck of seeing any fuel coming out of the bleeding screw I gave up realizing that I must be sucking air. I decided the best course of action was to grab two of my diesel jerry cans and a taxi cab. I was hoping that if I could fill the empty tank high enough for the fuel line not to suck air so I could hand prime from the trucks opposite tank.
After two trips to a fuel station I started hand priming again. This time the truck primed in seconds with fuel dripping from the prime screw by the 6th push on the manual pump. I had good feeling that the truck would start now on the full tank, so I closed the hood and jumped in. The trucked fired right up without issue so it was decided from now on we would never run a tank less then a quarter full.

If anyone knows why I run out of fuel with a 8th showing. Also why the truck won’t run or prime from the full tank, if there is a tank that is empty on the other side. I would be greatly appreciated a possible fix. With the current fuel issue we never let either of the tanks get below half.
 

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A_anu

https://www.instagram.com/descubiendourantia/?hl=e
Hi, very interesting, your adventure! Sure it solved the problem of the automatic valve of the fuel tank (in a mechanic's workshop): P hehe greetings from europa-spain!
 
EM5000is Honda Inverter Generator Stops Running

At the beginning of the trip we didn’t have many luxuries but the one we did have was a Honda generator. Running the tv, computer, PS4 gaming computer, hair dyer, all my fabrication tools, so forth and so on was upmost important to us. The EM5000is Honda was over kill for the trip and we usually used it on our 40’ rv, but since we had it already it was put into service on this voyage. Already feeling beat up over the fuel tank and PCB box, when I went to start the generator and it wouldn’t stay running the whole family felt we had made a crushing move backwards. Every time I went to start the generator it would fire up run good for 60 seconds then turnoff giving a error code. So I looked up the error on the internet finding out that I must of fried the inverter on the generator which would in turn throw a fault code turning off the unit. Taking the inverter out was quite simple, finding a replacement proved way to be way to expensive at over a $1000.00. I had bought the generator back in 06’-07’ adding up hundreds of hours on it over the years, so I just didn’t feel spending a grand was the right decision at this time. So the following day we headed to a Marine Supply Warehouse store in Portland and searched for a 24v inverter. I wanted to buy a 24v 4000watt inverter charger so if we were to every discharge the batteries to far I could plug us into something to recharge. But since we didn’t have a generator anyway recharging was not a option on our own. So I ended up buying a 12v 400watt Kisae Prosine inverter which I hope wouldn’t draw the four batteries down to fast and would allow the kids to watch tv, use the Dyson power stick vacuum, and Apple I Pap’s. I had ordered a 400watt 24v to 12v step down before the trip began so wiring the Kisae to it was simple. It was not to long before the tv was back on and the kids Ipad’s were charging away. Plus side to using the inverter now we were running silent when we were camping giving us the ability not to have to worry so much about bothering neighbors and we weren’t burning fuel. So again back to normal for the most part, the inverter wasn’t strong enough for my wife’s hair tools or my fabrication tools. We figured we would work around these disadvantages at a truck stop pay electrical pole.
 

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unkamonkey

Explorer
Check your fuel lines to the tank. Manual valve or automatic for the tank switch over? What can I say, I slept on the rear deck of a 1955 Pontiac with my parents inside , brother, and our dog by my mothers side for years in that car. I can't throw any stones at all but it looks like a good rig.
 

A_anu

https://www.instagram.com/descubiendourantia/?hl=e
At the end of the road you will imitate the way of life as narrated by the movie: fantastic captain! Hehe
 

unkamonkey

Explorer
We all can live our life as we choose it to be, hopefully. If I had seen that thing in 1998 I would have bought it. So I bought a Mitsu Fuso FG. Some people hate it and some want to buy it. I still think about throwing out a tarp , pad and a sleeping bag in my yard. Oh yeah, cats and the sprinklers at 3 in the morning wouldn't be any fun...
 
We all can live our life as we choose it to be, hopefully. If I had seen that thing in 1998 I would have bought it. So I bought a Mitsu Fuso FG. Some people hate it and some want to buy it. I still think about throwing out a tarp , pad and a sleeping bag in my yard. Oh yeah, cats and the sprinklers at 3 in the morning wouldn't be any fun...

Mitsu Fuso FG gets a thumbs up from me.��
 
Passenger side wheel on the M1101 trailer locks up…….Stuck again!

May 7, 2017


Not even into the trip for more than two weeks having a PCB box failure, fuel line issues, and losing the Honda generator. I thought that would about wrap things up for having to pull out the tools. Spending another day reading hundreds of posts on the internet of others with similar misfortune, I felt I had earned my way into the clear. Well I was wrong about that.

Upon waking up the day after the inverter was installed with a planned trip to Mt. Hood. We fired the M931a2 up and started to pull away from our boondocking site at a Fred Myer’s store parking lot. I immediately felt a drag on the truck as if something was wrong with the transmission. I checked what gear I was in and tried to pull forward again with the same results. Time saving for me a man standing near his car yelled at me through the passenger side window saying my trailer wheels were locked up.

My perfect 2010 M1101 trailer that I purchased to pull behind my 95’ H1 Hummer was not the correct match for this adventure trip. Backing up the trailer was a major pain, you can’t see it and once you do the trailer jacks so quickly that once it starts turning it gone. I didn’t want to wait to bid on the appropriate trailer and the M1101 was sitting in the yard not being used.

With the trailer having only a few hundred miles on it, I didn’t feel I would have lost a bearing already so I immediately assumed the hand brakes must of gotten set. I jumped out of the truck finding the hand brakes in the correct upright position. Inspecting the axles I found nothing out of the ordinary, so I pumped the hand brakes up/down and loosen the torsion cable on both. Jumped back into the m931a2 and pulled forward. Nothing solved the m1101 was still locked up. So I put the M931a2 in reverse and tried backing up the trailer. Reversing the trailer seemed to released whatever was locked up and the trailer started rolling fine.

Thinking I must have had a rusty brake spring that must of set while we were stopped was my only conclusion. The rain the first two weeks was nonstop so I chalked it up to a wet environment and went on with my day.
Not surprising this was not the answer to why the trailer was dragging a wheel.
What had happen is the emergency brake pull pin had some how got tangled into the wire that started the Honda generator and had been pulled for emergency stop. Sadly while pulling the M1101 trailer with the M931a2 I never noticed that the brakes were engaged. This mistake on my part cost the trailer to destroy both the brake drums and pads.
Yes I felt stupid.
 

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May 19th, 2017

Finally getting out of the city with the breakdowns becoming a memory we headed for high altitude. Portlands temperatures were raising to the low 90s which in turn caused our m109a3 box to become extremely uncomfortable. With a great snow year Mt. Hood waited for us with cooler temps and great scenery.

One of the unique characteristics we started noticing about some of the camping areas in Oregon is, as soon as you pull ten feet off the highway you were in a different world. The vegetation, terrain, or ocean vista are so intence that you could be next to a busy Walmart and would never know it.

That being said we pulled into a camp ground right off the highway heading to the summit of Mt. Hood. There were a bunch of young skiers boondocking the site so we decided to join them. Our kids pulled out the Play Station VR horror game called "Rush of Blood", the skiers brought over drinks and good spirits. Everybody freak themselves out playing in virtual reality horror while already in a dark forest. Had quite the fun night in the spooky woods next to a roaring river.
 

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Hanging with the "Tribe"

Driving the the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" to the top skiers parking lot at Mt. Hood was like driving into two movie plots. The Shinning being the first movie since our back drop was the actual lodge used in the movie The Shinning. The second movie being the outdoor movie "The Vertical Limit", since the parking lot vibe was like the base camp at K2 in the movie. We called the parking lot outdoor adrenaline junkie athletes "The Tribe", feeling like we were at some religious gathering worshiping nature at her finest. Everybody had their chairs or sitting devices point toward the peak, telling stories of past and future planned adventures. Camping next to these mountain people felt infectious even though we were parked on pavement, missing skis and climbing equipment.
 

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CaliNative

New member
Loving your story. I hope it smooths out and you get a break from mechanical issues. Solving the problems must be rewarding though I know it sure is for me. Best education your kids could have. Safe travels.
 
Loving your story. I hope it smooths out and you get a break from mechanical issues. Solving the problems must be rewarding though I know it sure is for me. Best education your kids could have. Safe travels.

Solving problems are always rewarding, its when they seem to pileup all at once that they become overwhelming. The shake down issues that we had at the beginning of the trip wouldn't have been so drama filed if they would have happen in a more laid back town say like Bandon, Oregon. In Beaverton the police were ready to ticket and tow for any reason. I was afraid that I would get caught up in a spiral of misfortune that would lead to the forfeiture of the vehicle. We were really sweating bullets..
 
Clackamas River Whitewater Kayaking Rescue

After hanging out with the outdoor crowd on Mt. Hood I was itching to go whitewater kayaking so we turned our "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" towards the Clackamas River hoping to find some like minded people to paddle with. The Clackamas River festival was just finishing up their yearly event as we pulled up to Carter bridge that spans the river near Carter Rapid. We pulled into Lockaby campground closest to the river festival finding a space near the walking trail to the event. Before we could setup camp a nice young woman strolled over making a few comments about the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" then asked if I was interested in going kayaking. After saying yes, we made plans to meet (Sadly I forgot their names) her and her husband at their campsite the next morning. The following day we met at the campground entrance and decided to paddle Three Lynx Power Station to Moore Creek access leaving Alisa, kids, and the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" at the Moore Creek take out taking the couples car to Three Lynx.

I hadn't paddle for a year kayaking Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison last year outside of Bozeman, Montana late fall. Navigating the Madison river was a journey through a remote Canyon floating laid back whitewater enjoying the company of rafting BLM rangers who were oaring two well marked law enforcement rafts. The Madison was well beyond peak run off so the class three white water was not pushy and the single class four rapid "Kitchen Sink" was well within my paddlings skills for the season.

On the other hand the Clackamas River was at full steam backed up with a epic snow year, with all the class 3+ rapids feeling brutishly pushy. Right off the bat the first rapid felt "game on" without a warmup , being the first run of my season I new I needed to be at full concentration. Rapids with names like Power House, Narrows, Roaring Rapid, and Hole in The Wall racked up muscle strain and stressed my endurance. By the time we made it to a calm section of the river above Carter Falls Rapid my fingers were cramping and I felt completely worn out.

My female kayak guide was spot on as I followed her from Rapid to Rapid with her husband bring up the rear in his catamaran raft as a safety. As long as I took her line I always was at the right place at the right time, giving me the confidence that I wasn't going to have to test a combat eskimo role. To be honest I can't even remember the last time I rolled my kayak. We never scouted any of the rapids, relying on the wife/husband team reassuring me that the rapids were not that aggressive and had limited consequences. We would float up to a Rapid and my guide would give me a brief break down of what was coming then we would run it. Upon arriving above Hole in The Wall Rapid my guide was explaining a feature in the river that traps boaters in a inescapable whirlpool, and because she was pregnant that she was going to be extra careful to take the river right line. The fact that she was pregnant played into a couple of bad decisions made by me that were now currently playing out as we floated into Clarter Rapid with a bit to much confidence and not enough endurance.

All of us were having a good run I didn't want to spoil the rhythm of the day saying I needed a rest, nor would my male ego allow me not to keep up with my highly skilled pregnant guide. So without pumping the needed adrenaline into my brain because I was over confident, and having no fear I drifted into Carter falls sideways thinking my skills could correct anything I paddle into. My guide disappeared immediately over the edge of the Rapid cutting off me seeing her line that I had used through out the day to cheat navigating myself. Now I was on my own floating sideways into a class 4 Rapid that I had not scouted, to say that became unpopular to me quick is a understatement.

Letting the current sweep me over the edge with a lazy brace stroke supporting me and the kayak pointed at the river right shoreline, the first hole I dropped into did not have favorable results. With no forward momentum I couldn't punch through a paper bag let alone this hole that wanted to do dark bad things to me. I was upside down in micro seconds trying to bring my paddle up next to my kayak to attempt a roll. Without any endurance left, and the fact that my muscle memory of rolling a kayak was trapped behind some locked door. Adding to the fact that the river was a arctic cold high 30's something degrees. I felt my lungs gasping for air even though I had only been upside down for maybe two seconds. I pulled my skirt letting gravity pull me out of the cockpit, finding myself swimming the heart of the Rapid dropping into the next large hole scraping a large boulder underneath to great surprise.

The water was bone chilly cold and my life jacket wasn't tight enough riding high on my shoulders. Grabbing short gasps of air was posing difficult but I managed to at least keep my paddle quickly losing control of my creek boat. I made a brief attempt to swim towards the boat, changing my mind after seeing that my one air bag was barely floating the craft. I knew as I was forced to time breaths between waves I was in no condition to alter the kayaks course. Floating under Carter bridge the river had calmed. I should have been able to get to shore on my own not needing to be a burden to the other paddlers as they chased down my water logged kayak. Instead regardless of what I did I couldn't swim into any of the eddy lines. My pregnant guide staying next to me trying to help me decided what my options were I found myself being swept into the next Rapid. Quickly pointing my feet down stream to prevent a foot entrapment, with paddle in one hand and holding the strap on the back of her kayak in the other we plunged into the next set of rapids. I started inhaling water as I found it harder and harder to grab a breath that didn't include river water. Being dead weight with feet pointed down steam paddle in hand I was zero help to my rescuer, forcing my pregnant friend to fight the river and my 230 pounds. I began to realize that I was in the beginning stages of drowning, I decided to let go of her kayak and make a last ditch effort to cross any of the eddy lines that seemed to be passing by so quickly. Getting into the prone position I started kayak paddling my body before I got swept into the next Rapid. Each paddle stroke depleted what was left of my energy but I was successful and I made it into the eddy. My guide told me I was in shallow enough water to stand up, so I carefully put my feet down to anchor myself so I wouldn't washout the back side of the eddy.

To my disbelief I didn't have the strength to stand in the beginning, leading me to realize just how close I was to the end of what body could do that day. I shot a comment to my guide saying "gee is this what 53 really feels like". I felt completely helpless, causing her to promptly tell me to sit down before I fell down. Once perched on a rock I could see her husband downstream fighting to get control of my submerged kayak as he quickly floated beyond view. As I warmed up out of the water my strength quickly returned. Realizing that my faithful river guide would now have to paddle the Clackamas solo to catch-up with her husband fighting to save my gear, I figured it was time to urge her to abandon me. She agreed, leaving me to climb a steep incline to the road above not knowing when I would see my companions or equipment again.

I walked quite along time to a stretch of river called Big Eddy. During my walk I increasingly felt embarrassed that my class 5 glory days of whitewater kayaking might be far in my past. I became extremely frustrated with myself that I let the only sport I had truly mastered creep in fear that I might never again feel that nirvana. Upon seeing the Husband/Wife team come into view with my Fluid kayak safely strapped to the catamaran, I new I had to gain my composure to complete the rest of the run.

I slipped back into the cockpit of the creek boat, looking at my boating partners I reported sternly that I was tired. Not knowing what was around the next bend I didn't feel confident that I would survive another swim. Neither of them seem to be worried, commenting that we had made remarkable time navigating the river regardless of my swim. Without much thought I found myself back in strong river current again with a demoralized ego and very unsure what my body had left to conquer the Clackamas. I was hoping nothing was left but a few easy wave trains thinking it would be nice to round a bend and see the wife and kids waiting for me next to the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier". But the Clackamas wasn't done for the day with one card left in the deck, a Rapid called "Toilet Bowl".

As soon as I saw "Toilet Bowl" I new it was going to be big, when I saw my guide get tossed around tipping over. I felt extreme dread that if she was having issues, I was going to be a Clackamas statistic. The waves were so large that they were falling back onto themselves crashing into me like i had hit a semi truck. Again I felt the sinking feeling of myself beginning to role into the cold only to be righted in the correct upright position by the following even larger wave. To my great relief the river allowed me to stay upright and even allowed a small victory.

My wife and kids greeted me as I touched the front of my kayak to bank of the river at the end of our journey. The Clackamas had allowed me to finish, now I could add her to all the other rivers I had paddle over forty years of whitewater kayaking. Unlike the many other rivers, the Clackamas had a message she had devilishly delivered. I was getting older, life was fragile, and my edge had dulled. If I was going to fully enjoy a run like her again I needed to earn it by putting in a effort retraining my body. If my spirit had aged and I was unwilling to put in the work that it takes to challenge nature then it was time to let her go on without me.
 

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