A challenge to winch bumper manufacturers

Once upon a time, adding a winch to an overland vehicle was easy. Series 2 and 3 Land Rovers, 40-Series Land Cruisers, and Jeeps were built with chassis rails that extended a good foot in front of the radiator, fronted by a solid steel bumper. To mount a winch you basically plopped it there, bolted it down, and hooked up either a PTO driveshaft or wiring. Done. Even the bulky Warn 8274 on my FJ40 was an easy installation.

It’s different these days. With scant few exceptions, those protruding steel bumpers have been sacrificed in the (commendable) search for aerodynamics—i.e. fuel economy—and safety, via computer-designed crush zones and air bags. Give me a choice of being in the 40 or our Tacoma in a head-on collision and there’s no doubt which I’d choose. 

But if you want to install a winch on these new vehicles, you need to replace the 10-pound body-colored plastic facade that looks like a bumper with a dedicated steel or aluminum structure properly connected to the chassis of the truck, and capable of absorbing several tons of force. Thankfully, numerous companies have risen to the challenge, especially for the more popular models of pickup and SUV.

However—I seem to be noticing a trend in aftermarket winch bumpers that is vaguely unsettling: a trend toward fashion over function. That 8274 on my FJ40 is right out in the open—I can see it operating, I can watch to make sure the line is spooling correctly, and if it isn’t I can stop the procedure and fix it. One of the requirements to pass the winching section in the N.P.T.C. Certificate of Competence in 4WD is, “Ensure the winch components are in suitable condition.” Another is, “Ensure the winch is free from obstruction and the line is spooled properly.” Both are easy to confirm with that 8274.

With an increasing number of modern winch bumpers, either is virtually impossible. The only view of either the winch or the drum and line is a peek through the fairlead. A tiny hole gives you access to the engagement lever. Recently I was respooling line on a student’s winch and had to have him shine a flashlight through the fairlead while I crouched in front of it and peered inside so I could ensure the line was going in correctly. Had there been a bad snarl we would literally have had to remove the bumper to fix it.

Anther vital winch-bumper component is either shrinking or going away altogether—recovery points capable of and suitable for attaching a shackle. Properly, a shackle eye should be nearly as thick as the width of the jaw on a shackle, to prevent twisting and off-angle stresses. Lately I’m seeing them much narrower—or simply missing, so that there is no provided way to rig a double-line pull from your winch to an anchor point and back to your bumper, or to safely secure a friend’s winch line to your vehicle.

Several months ago I spoke to a rep from a major bumper manufacturer (I’m not going to name names in this piece because I’m not discussing quality, which is uniformly high in this segment; I’m discussing choices made by the manufacturer and consumer). The rep said that recovery points had been eliminated on his company’s bumpers due to airbag compatibility issues. I’m . . . not sure about this. It’s my understanding that airbags are triggered by accelerometers, which detect deceleration consistent with that of a collision severe enough to warrant deployment, and then send a trigger signal to the device. Often these accelerometers are positioned in the cab of the vehicle, nowhere near the bumper. In any case, if you make a bumper capable of withstanding several tons of pull provided by the winch mounted on it without affecting airbag deployment, I can’t understand why adding recovery points capable of withstanding several tons of pull would suddenly compromise the system. (Note that I did not say it can’t be so; I simply said I don’t understand how it could be so.) 

One source I spoke to told me that the only thing separating airbag-compliant winch bumpers from non-airbag-compliant winch bumpers is that the maker of the latter did not spend the huge amount of money necessary to actually conduct crash tests to prove unequivocally that the vehicle’s airbag will still deploy with the bumper mounted. In researching various crash reports I have yet to come across a case in which it was proven that an aftermarket bumper prevented an airbag from deploying (if anyone reading this has such documentation I’d be grateful to hear about it).

The only potential effect of a winch bumper on airbag deployment that I know of is the risk of triggering in a collision that occurs at a lower speed than that at which the accelerometer would normally trigger the device. Some vehicles are built with crush cans behind the stock bumper, designed to absorb the energy in a minor collision without setting off the airbag. An aftermarket bumper that eliminated these crush cans and tied directly to the frame could potentially fool the carefully calibrated sensors into “thinking” that the crash was worse than it actually was. This would certainly be an alarming (and probably expensive) surprise, but one unlikely to cause serious injury.

I’d like to see—within the boundaries of passenger protection in a collision, of course—a return to winch bumpers that optimize access and safety for the winch operator. Winching is an activity fraught with potential risks at the best of times; deliberately making it difficult or impossible to ensure the winch is operating correctly is a big mistake. At the very least, a bumper should be equipped with a removable access port that allows full-width access to the drum and line. And the bumper needs to be equipped with proper recovery points that will adequately support a shackle—either that or the manufacturer could offer separate, frame-mounted recovery points.

There’s nothing wrong with fashion, as long as it does not compromise function. The best functional designs make their own fashion—what can be better looking than something that works perfectly?

New Safe Jack universal base plate . . . and a sale

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I’ve written several times before about Safe Jack’s unique products. Read here and here about the expanded base plates they invented for the Hi-Lift jack and bottle jacks, which transform the nature of both kinds of lifting tools. 

Previously you had to choose which base you wanted. Now Richard Bogert of Safe Jack has introduced a universal base that accepts either a Hi-Lift base, or a clip-in plate on which almost any standard bottle jack can be clamped. So during a recovery situation in soft substrate, when you need the extra flotation for your Hi-Lift (or the clever and rock-solid guy-wire stabilizing system), you’ve got it, and when you shortly thereafter need to jack up one wheel for a tire repair, you can just snap in a bottle jack to the same base. Nice.

Safe Jack will be at Overland Expo WEST with show specials. If you won’t be there, don’t feel bad: Richard will be running a “Gear up for Overland Expo” web special through May 20th. The website is here, and the promo code is GEARUP2016.

Battery welding done right

The magic of battery welding has been known to field mechanics for years now, and one of the most popular classes at the Overland Expo is the hands-on introduction to the skill, taught by experts such as welding wizard Tim Scully. Briefly, by combining several standard automotive batteries in series—that is, positive terminal to negative terminal, in a chain—you create in effect one large 24V (with two batteries) or 36V (three batteries) cell, and this produces enough power to weld a lot of things that can be prone to breaking on vehicles used in rugged conditions: shock and spring mounts, motor mounts, ancillary brackets, roof racks—the list is endless, and full of items that can bring a trip to a sudden halt.

Until now, most impromptu battery welding has been jury rigged with standard jumper cables. While this works, it is far from ideal. Jumper-cable wire is cheap stuff designed for a few second’s starting duty at a time; its coarse strands are inefficient at conducting the power produced by series-connected batteries. And the toothed clamps, although adequate for attaching to battery terminals, are poor for gripping slender welding rods. In addition, you need a way to connect the batteries to each other, which either requires another set (or two) of jumper cables, or yet more jury rigging with your existing battery leads.

All that just ended, thanks to the Trail Weld kit, developed by Tim Scully himself. Tim evaluated the compromises that go into the normal battery-welding setup, and fixed them all. 

• The cables are now fine-strand, four-gauge Temco welding wire, with 360-degree crimps on all fittings. A 12-foot length on positive and negative leads allows you to put a safe distance between the batteries and sparks. The flexible cable makes controlling the clamp and rod much easier.
• The positive lead ends in a proper welding-rod clamp, and the negative lead ends in a dedicated ground clamp.
• Two short leads of Temco wire make quick work of connecting batteries, and reduce voltage loss.
• All battery connections are high-quality terminal clamps, greatly enhancing conductivity and thus efficiency.
• All connections are color-coded with heat-shrink wrap.
• A selection of correctly sized welding rods is included in a plastic protective case.
• A pair of self-powered auto-darkening goggles is also included.
• Available containers range from a simple bag to a .50-caliber ammo can to a Pelican Case.

The complete system is so efficient that Tim reports two batteries are sufficient to weld material that requires three if using jumper cables. As he told me, “If you are using three batteries you’d better be welding at least quarter-inch-thick stock.” Since an increasing number of overland vehicles these days are equipped with two batteries, that means you can be completely self-sufficient for field-welding repairs.

For welding amateurs such as myself, the auto-darkening goggles make all the difference when welding with rod, as there’s no pre-positioning the rod at the correct gap and then fumbling with a standard goggle or, worse, a jury-rigged square of welding glass taped to a cardboard face shield, as I’ve always carried. (Of course you’ll still want face, arm, and hand protection.)

For more information, visit the Trail Weld site, here. At the upcoming Overland Expo WEST, Trail Weld kits will be on display during the welding classes, and available for purchase at the 7P booth. Highly recommended.

My ride for the next week . . .

Five-liter DOHC V8, variable turbo, 310 hp, 555 lb ft.

Full review will appear in OutdoorX4. 

The weakest link

Like all of you, my head turns when I spot a well-equipped four-wheel-drive vehicle. The other afternoon, while Roseann and I were in downtown Tucson waiting for the trolley, I noticed in an adjacent parking lot a spiffy-looking gray Jeep Wrangler Rubicon Unlimited. Since the Rubicon Unlimited is one of my all-time favorites, I wandered over to look.

It was indeed spiffy and gleaming, apparently brand new, and from the looks of it the owner had dropped it off at a full-service four-wheel-drive-overlanding-expedition-equipment shop, along with a Platinum Amex, and said, “Equip me.” Suspension lift (a reasonable one), oversize tires (reasonably so), roof rack, Hi-Lift, etc. etc. Up front was a well-made winch bumper—but it in turn was mounted with an odd combination of an off-brand Chinese winch and proper synthetic line. Since the rest of the truck showed a no-expense-spared attitude, I’m not sure what spurt of economy made the owner decide to scrimp on the winch, unless the entire project is strictly for show, in which case a winch is a winch, right? Or it could be as simple as bad advice from the shop, or a forum. (Actually even the synthetic line could be misleading: Discount synthetic winch lines of questionable provenance are becoming increasingly common.)

However, what really caught my eye was the fairlead, an aluminum hawse type, which persistent myth still wrongly claims is the only safe configuration to use with synthetic line. That aside, the chamfers of the line guide on this one were by far the worst I’d ever seen. It’s easy to understand instinctively that running a line over a sharp bend while it’s got three or four thousand pounds of tension on it is not a good thing. Ideally the chamfer or roller over which a winch line—whether steel or synthetic—is run under tension should have a radius of six time the radius of the cable. The edge of this fairlead was barely radiused at all, and on any off-center pull would put huge stress on the line. It was clearly manufactured by a company that either had zero expertise in the physics of how a winch system operates, or zero inclination to build a product with any function other than looks. (Incidentally, in terms of installation, note the slapdash job on the cotter pin securing the winch hook.)

Also note the hook drawn under tension into the aluminum of the fairlead, and the visible scratches in the edge of the opening. Those will cause significant damage to the line when it is run over them under tension. (Incidentally, in terms of installation, note the slapdash job on the cotter pin securing the winch hook.)

It bears repeating as often as necessary: If you install a winch for any reason other than pure fashion, every single component of the system should be of the highest quality. A winch system under load is absolutely dependent on the weakest link in that system, and the result of a failure can be ugly.

Here's a much better-designed hawse fairlead:

And, even better, a roller fairlead:

Buy the tire you need, not the one you want

Recently I received a set of the all-new Yokohama Geolandar AT GO15 tires to review for OutdoorX4 magazine. While sold as an “all terrain” tire, the tread on this Geolandar looks mild compared to many similarly marketed tires. And that got me to thinking about overlanders and our tire choices.

It’s natural to gravitate toward an aggressive tread design when buying tires for a four-wheel-drive vehicle. A more aggressive tread means better traction in steep or loose terrain, right?—which is why we have four wheel drive in the first place, right? And besides—let’s be honest—a mud-terrain tire just looks cooler than a more street-oriented “AT” tire. If appearance has never, ever entered into your tire-buying decision you’re a more logical thinker than I am.

Obviously, however, there are logical aspects to tire selection besides traction. The most critical of these—in fact the most critical of all— is safety. A street-biased tire with more closely spaced, shallower tread blocks will exhibit significantly better grip for both handling and braking than one with hyper-aggressive, open-blocked tread. That aspect could quite literally be a lifesaver in the right (wrong) scenario.

Fuel economy is a factor as well. When I switched from BFG All-Terrains to BFG Mud-Terrains on my FJ40 (partially because, yep, they just looked better) my fuel economy dropped by almost exactly one mile per gallon—and one mile per gallon on an FJ40 makes a difference, let me tell you. Then there’s tread life. Those closer tread blocks translate to less squirm, which translates to longer tread life given the same compound. Finally, even with modern computer-designed tread, aggressive tires tend to be louder at high speed, which can be a fatigue factor on long drives.

All these advantages to street-biased tires are obviously mostly advantageous on the street, and that’s where logic butts up against romance. Most of like to think we spend more time off pavement than we actually do. The reality is, if more than ten percent of the miles you put on your overland vehicle are actually off pavement, you are quite an adventurer. I’m not sure Roseann and I hit that, and we cover seven miles of dirt road just to reach our house. Much more frequently a backcountry journey will entail several hundred miles of highway and maybe 40 or 50 miles of trails. Thus, for most of us, for most of our time behind the wheel we would enjoy better handling, braking, fuel economy, and tread life with a less-aggressive tire choice. And we wouldn’t have to crank up the sound system so much to count how many times Terry Gross says “like” or “um” in one interview. Sorry, personal gripe.

Where was I? Right: There’s an additional factor to consider for those of us who own modern vehicles with sophisticated ABS-based traction systems and hill-descent control: We have more and better inherent traction available to us than we did when driving older vehicles with simple part-time four-wheel-drive systems. So we can enjoy just as much off-pavement ability with a less-aggressive tire—as anyone can confirm who’s watched Land Rover’s LR4s on street tires negotiate the Overland Expo driving course.

So the next time you buy tires for your overland vehicle, consider carefully—and logically. Do you really need those BFG Mud-Terrains, or would the All-Terrains perform better most of the time? For that matter, would BFG’s Rugged Trail suit your needs? Get the tire that works best, not the one that looks best. Then you can smile condescendingly at the guy driving by in the jacked up truck riding on those howling Super Swampers.

"World's most powerful mini-ratchet"

It’s no secret I’m a sucker for good tools—and especially interesting good tools—and every once in a while something comes along that’s extra special. Last month while Graham Jackson and his wife, Connie, were visiting us, Graham handed me a red plastic box, the length and width of an index card and an inch tall. Inside was the most densely packed assortment of bits I’d ever seen, along with a cunning ratchet no bigger than a cigarette. (Does that analogy even work any more? Will OT&T now garner an R rating because I mentioned smoking?).

Where was I? Right: The Wadsworth Falls Manufacturing Company ratchet works by means of a dead-simple, hardened spring-steel tooth inside the bit opening, which clicks past or locks on to the fine splines forged into each bit (engagement arc is only 12 degrees). Moving parts are minimized, and the tiny ratchet is rated to 400 inch-pounds of torque (33 pound-feet), which is probably all you could exert on it with one hand. To reverse you simply pull out the bit and insert it in the other side. Also included is a screwdriver-type handle into which the bits fit, either directly or on the end of the four-inch extension that also works in the ratchet. There are even a couple of little knurled plastic bit holders for very fine or tight work.

And the bits? There are 43 of them, including metric and SAE hex, Phillips and standard screwdrivers, and Torx, plus an adapter to accept 1/4-inch sockets. Add a set of 1/4-inch-drive sockets from 6mm to 13mm or so, and this kit would probably suffice for half the minor repairs you might need to do on a four-wheel-drive vehicle or motorcycle. After sourcing my own, I did a few odd jobs around the house and Ford truck—after cleaning off the black gunk that coats all the bits—and found the kit just handy as hell. The—count ‘em, nine—standard screwdriver bits are so precisely ground I wouldn’t hesitate to use them on my English shotguns. 

The bonus is it’s all made in the U.S. (and thus, yes, not cheap at around $80). Available from a variety of outlets, just Google.

Does CO2 leak out of tires?

Some years ago racing bicyclists began carrying tire-repair kits that used common miniature CO2 cartridges to refill a patched tube in seconds, saving the time otherwise wasted using a manual pump. The kits subsequently became popular among recreational cyclists who weren’t necessarily in a hurry, but simply couldn’t stand not having the latest high-performance gear, or felt that the drudgery of working a manual pump was simply . . . hell.

Soon, however, riders began noticing something: The tires they filled with CO2 seemed to lose pressure much more rapidly than when filled with air. Some claimed a tire filled to 90 psi with CO2 would be down to 40 in a few days. 

Impossible, said the makers of the CO2 kits. A CO2 molecule is larger than either a nitrogen molecule or an oxygen molecule, which together comprise 99 percent of air. How could CO2 leak out faster? Don’t ask us how, said the bicyclists, we just know it happens.

Finally a few people familiar with chemistry looked for an explanation, beginning with the properties of gas permeation by diffusion. All gasses exhibit a permeation rate through butyl rubber—the material used in most bicycle tires—proportional to the inverse of the square root of their molecular weights. Using this formula, you can show that the rate of permeation of CO2 through a butyl tube compared to air should be . . . uh, well, lower. Hmm . . .

Finally someone got it. The answer has nothing to do with molecular weight, although it is still a chemical phenomenon. It turns out that CO2 is actually soluble in butyl rubber—it essentially melts right through the material without having to wait for permeation.

And that brings up a question: Does the same thing happen with the tires on four-wheel-drive vehicles when owners use the popular CO2 tanks for airing up?

Tubeless automotive tires are obviously different in construction than bicycles tubes. For one thing they’re probably ten times as thick, with various reinforcing belts and cords. One source tells me the inner liner of all tubeless tires is “halobutyl” rubber infused with other compounds to limit permeability. So the phenomenon should be at least substantially slower on an automotive tires than on a bicycle tube. Additionally, most uses of CO2 involve topping up a tire that was only partially deflated for trail driving; thus there is probably a significant percentage of plain old air left in the tire. I decided to see if the CO2 effect was a factor in truck tires, and if so to what extent.

I used the front tires on our Land Rover One Ten, since it was due to be parked for a while and I wanted perfectly stable conditions. I deflated both tires completely, then filled one with a compressor, the other with my CO2 tank, to 40 psi (in the process learning a valuable lesson about tire gauges, see here). 

A week later I checked both. The compressor-filled tire remained at 40 psi. The one filled with CO2? Thirty six. Aha. Two weeks later the air-filled tire had dropped about a half pound, while the CO2 tire was a smidgen under 33. That’s about a 20-percent loss in three weeks.

My tentative conclusion is that CO2 does indeed suffuse through automotive tires, albeit at a substantially slower rate than it does from a thin butyl bicycle tube. This means that if you use a CO2 tank for tire repairs and airing up, it would be wise to check the pressure more often than you normally would. 

I say “tentative,” because due diligence requires that I repeat the experiment, but swap tires to confirm that my original CO2 tire does not have a slow leak. Since both tires were close in pressure when I began, I doubt this is the case, but I need to confirm it. So right now both tires are filled again, except with the opposite procedure. I’ll report back in a few weeks.