First Time Wheeling Tahuya, WA

The month leading up to this trip was wet. Not “a little rain” wet—full saturation. I went in expecting mud. Lots of it.

Friday night prep nearly turned into a structure fire. One of my 4-foot LED shop lights burned out. Another didn’t just fail—it melted, drooped six inches from the ceiling, and turned black. I caught it before things got exciting, killed the power, and went back to packing food like nothing happened. That’s how Fridays go sometimes.

Look close at the far trailer in the photos. That dark patch at the back? Underwater when we unloaded. Trailer was about ten feet back, water over the hubs. That set the tone.

Saturday morning, my wife opted out—craft shopping with a friend—so I linked up with my son Tommy and his crew in Belfair around 10 a.m. We rolled into the Tahuya ORV staging area and aired down. Looking around, it was obvious: I was the little guy. Most rigs had just come off trailers and were sitting on serious tire. I was on 33s. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t there for hero lines or rock garden glory. I was there to run trails.

Walking back to the rigs, Tommy laughed and pointed at my Jeep.

“We haven’t even hit the trails yet and we gotta fix your pile.”

Sure enough, the electric fan had dropped and was hanging by the wiring. A handful of zip ties got it secured well enough to move. Permanent fix came later. Field repair counts.

Gatekeeper & Yellow Jacket Hill

Tommy unloaded his Toyota on 37-inch Yokohama XMTs and pointed ahead. First obstacle: the gatekeeper. Rock garden right out of the gate.

“I ran it in my Ranger on 33s. You’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t wrong. Wet, muddy, but manageable. Most of what passed for mud was really just standing water.

Not far in, we reached Yellow Jacket Hill. Steep rock climb. Optional. Tommy had run it dry before and called it easy—locked front and rear, 37s, different story. I parked and watched. Everyone made it, but nobody made it look casual.

Buggy Hill & the Whoops

Next was Buggy Hill. Steep approach, broken rigs on the sidelines, a drop into a crevice to start the climb. I stayed parked again. Tommy and his buddies ran it—one YJ on 40s, another purpose-built buggy on 37s. If my Jeep had an 8.8 rear and it was dry, maybe. That day? Hard no.

After Buggy Hill came the whoops. Tight tracks, deep holes, the kind that can swallow a rig whole if you’re sloppy. Near the end, you choose: rock garden or a narrow bypass with rock on one side and a drop on the other. Full-size trucks don’t belong there. In the Jeep, it was just fun.

We kept moving—water crossings, tight sections, more puddles. Mental note made to check the differentials later.

Eventually, we reached another rock climb Tommy hadn’t tried before. A JK was stuck halfway up. A Toyota pulled it out. Another rig snapped an axle during a winch recovery. We sat on the tailgates, ate sandwiches, and watched mechanical lessons unfold. Then we rolled out and spent another 45 minutes on smaller, tighter trails to close the day.

Final Notes

Tahuya delivered. I wanted more mud and less standing water, but the trails were solid. Drainage is poor, lots of gravel, lots of puddles. Capitol Forest still wins for sticky, miserable mud.

Will I be back? Absolutely. Watching my son work lines and eventually clear the hills is reason enough.

That said—crowds are a factor. Dirt bikes have endless trail systems, yet some still wander into the 4WD areas. A few riders were flat-out disrespectful. Years ago, people looked out for each other out there. Not always the case anymore.

Still worth running. Just keep your head on a swivel and your expectations realistic.