I enjoyed a pleasant drive, 14 miles on Highway 67. The wild flowers brighten the roadside.
Turned west onto Forest Road 22 and stopped to photograph Deer Lake, fenced to keep the range animals out—cattle and beefalo.
Two slightly bumpy gravel miles later I turned onto Forest Road 270 south for a mile then west onto Forest Road 222.
Had to stop a few times for pictures.
I love the way the young Aspen trunks seem to dance. Tried a video of this Aspen grove but it’s very blurry. I’m still practicing video.
Suddenly I heard this scraping noise, like I picked up a rock in a wheel. Gee, there were plenty of rocks to choose from. I stopped hard, backed up and braked, forward and braked. Hey it worked last time to dislodge a rock. But the noise got worse. So I did a 12-point turn to head back, very disappointed. The noise would come and go and I tried the back and forth thing a few more times with no relief to the scraping sound. Then it got louder to the point of a deafening screech echoing off of the forest. That’s when I stopped as I feared further damage.
This wild Turkey feather pointed the way to an old campsite where I parked. I figured if I could get to the park’s entrance station I could call a friend for help. What help I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe take the wheel off which I didn’t try as there’s always at least one lug nut I can’t seem to break loose.
Wasn’t there long when I heard a rig coming and flagged them down. Two young folks from the Forest Service on a goshawk survey gave me a ride to Forest Road 22.
Then I walked two miles down to the main highway and got a ride four miles to the entrance station. FabGrandma Karen was just leaving so I rode home with her. Her sweet hubby drove me back to take a look. And of course, it only made a tiny squeak and then quiet. So he followed me home with no more incident. I have an appointment with my mechanic for next Wednesday and can only hope it gets me around until then.