Always Check Your “Ts” & “Ps”

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

11:24 a.m.

Carova Beach, North Carolina

Thoughts and prayers or "Ts" and "Ps" are pleasant, don't get me wrong. However, they don't do much to get a stock Silverado on highway tires out of the sand, or this other fella down the beach in a diesel Dodge pulling a fifth-wheel pleasure barge—attempting to pull, rather. It seems slowing down traffic on Route 12 wasn't enough. Now, he has steam seeping through the grille. Getting out to assess what he could have avoided, he looks even more unhappy than the Silverado guy's sleeve-tattooed wife, who spilled her twisted tea yelling at him.

Dear Lord Jesus, I pray that trailer man can be patient in affliction, as tempers only worsen beach days.

I pray he can be joyful in the hope that he can learn to unstuck himself and have a sense of accomplishment.

I pray also that trailer man can have faith in prayer, because Lord, you know I'm not sitting this Diet Coke down.

There isn't much to beach driving apart from paying attention to things, of which there aren't many: the tide, people, vehicles, banker ponies, with two of the most important of all being "Ts" & "Ps"— temperatures and pressures.

Interestingly enough, the topic of tire pressure on the coast is about as divisive as Chick-fil-A's charitable giving. Some say your tires need to be under 30 psi, under 20 psi, in the single digits, and many say, "Just don't worry about it." I'm sure Trailer Man was the latter. Regardless, I've conducted enough research through experiences of my own to wade into the culture war, supported by the fact that I get my chicken sandwiches at Popeye's.

First off, this isn't some lead-in to why you need a bunch of extra mechanical capability or unnecessarily large tires to drive on the sand. Frankly, the truth is the opposite, but to each their own. All the traveling I've done with a $120 OHV pass from Currituck Banks to Ocracoke Island was done on half-worn highway tires.

I know I look like everyone else piloting an underprepared stock-height seven-seater land yacht , but airing down below 18 psi allowed me to go anywhere the bro dozers with 40-inch tires were and, in some instances, even more. Rubber wider than 15 inches does more to raise testosterone levels than get through the sand. Everyone else's tires are 11 inches and below, so you're just making more work for yourself. But the big tires do look cool, much like Silverado guy's kitted-out Glock 19, even if it's in a shoulder bag his girlfriend calls a purse. Modern masculine misgivings aside, there really is no way to stress the importance of airing down.

Airing down tires increases the surface area or "footprint" of the tire that comes into contact with the sand. This larger contact patch distributes the vehicle's weight over a bigger area, reducing the likelihood of the tires digging into the sand, like all those people posted on Carova Beach Idiots. Notice that I said bigger area and not wider area. Critically, airing down does not make the contact patch wider. It only looks like that when you're parked and the tires aren't in motion. At speed, the contact patch is longer, helping the truck to "float" on top of the sand rather than digging into it.

You may be asking, "Alex, how much air should I let out of the tires?" That depends, but there isn't a significant difference between 40 psi and 30 psi. Realistically, airing down doesn't begin to help until you get below 24. Around here, I tend to never have any more than 18 psi while I'm on the sand, and I keep it in the double digits. The only time you need to go lower, like 5 psi, is when you're stuck like Trailer Man.

Increased terrestrial buoyancy reduces the chance of the vehicle becoming bogged down but also keeps bouncing over corrugations to a minimum. Moreover, if your tire hits something protruding from the sand, like driftwood, stumps, or sunken hulls, lower pressure allows the tires to mold around things rather than them ripping through.

Yes, I know putting air back in the tires is annoying. Of course, it's annoying. You're annoying in your unpreparedness.

I don't bemoan people coming out here with "the wrong equipment" because most of that is just corporate marketing in support of keeping up with the Joneses. While the locals tend to stick to wagons, Jeeps, Tahoes, and trucks, none are kitted out as amphibious assault vehicles. A decent pair of all terrains is all you need—which gets me to my next point.

While most are fine airing down highway tires and minding the tide, it's important to note the temperature. That is, outside, of course, but also with the transmission. Despite my ability to navigate the terrain like Schwarzkopf at Medina Ridge, I did note that my transmission temperature could boil the eggs I was carrying with me.

The air temperature was above 95 degrees, much like it is today, with a UV intensity of 9, much like it is today, and the digital reading ticked from its normal one bar to two, then three. Instead of parking on the shoreline where the sand was likely nearing 120 degrees, I decided to hop the dunes and find the little bit of canopy shade there is off the sandy streets of Carova Beach.

Although the QX56 has a competent four-wheel drive system and slip control, it was working overtime with minimal grip and no sidewall tread. Keeping a constant pace was my ticket to remain unstuck, but that meant chugging along at 2,700 RPM in second gear. Much like ascending the Blue Ridge Parkway eight hours West of here, a day of beach driving can take a toll. I only realized how much all-terrain tires help on internal powertrain temperatures when I did much of the same in near identical conditions in a new set of 33's, and the transmission temperature was only ever in the second bar briefly. If you ever begin to overheat on the beach, unless you know where to locate shade, stop, roll down the windows, crank the heat, and, of course, get out and look at the water and wait until it cools down, which is what Trailer Man's wife is doing now.