After hauling half a ton of large 120 pound 3 string bales of hay, dispersing them among the animals, and rigging waters to run while I was gone, and bringing in the last of the winter squash, etc. etc. etc It was well after dark before I began loading the burb with some furniture we needed for the new rental in Roosevelt we are moving into. A big dresser, a large hutch mirror, a hugh area rug, a large cooler of winter squash and a beautiful vintage hanging lamp. Whew, got everything in and shut the back door only to have glass shatter all over me. Because of the darkness I couldn't see the pointed end of the lamp was past where the door would close and when I slammed the door-----well, needless to say I decided to deal with it in the morning.
Got up early used duct tape to enclose the broken window and set off down the road. Made a mental note to get more duct tape. Used a-lot this summer.
Cedar City in the rear view mirror, Beaver in the rear view mirror, Fillmore in the rear view mirror, Spanish Fork in the rear view mirror. 5 hours up the road and going strong. " Good job burbanator we may make it yet", I said out loud patting her on the sun baked, cracked dashboard, but I still had that feeling she was just going to give out any minute. Spanish Folk canyon in the rear view mirror, took the short cut and headed up Indian Canyon. Going up just fine until the real steep climb. I had been keeping a close eye on the gages and noticed the alternator gage dying. Great---sure enough after a few more miles up the steep grade she began to sputter. Keep going I haven't anywhere to pull off with a guard rail on my side stretching for miles. Sputter, sputter, chug, chug. "Come on girl, just get me to a place I can pull off." Well, I am the luckiest person I know and just around the bend is a big turnout area. Pulled off and the engine died.
Put on the parking brake and placed rocks behind the rear wheels---didn't want a scenic straight down of the mountain backwards ride at the moment--- and called Glen, my knight in shinning armor. I was lucky enough to have cell service and his response was "You're serious, you're broke down?"
" Of course", I just rolled my eyes and said "Yes, we were expecting this, but the good news is I'm just on the other side of Indian Canyon", only a little over an hour away. I described the Burbanator's symptoms and he would get his tools and come rescue me after work.
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| no room to pull off |
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| at least the scenery is beautiful |
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| took off my boots |
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| hung my hat on the steering wheel |
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| took a denim shirt from my suitcase to hang over the window to block the afternoon sun, and then settled in for the duration |
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| glad I remembered to throw in my reading glasses I usually read gardening books, historical biographies ( I have a secret crush on Ben Franklin, John James Audubon and Sam Houston, just to name a few), or a classic written by one of the mid-west writers of the early 20th century--Cather, Steinbeck, or just one of the good ole classics. However in anticipating the probability of breaking down I grabbed a book that looked enchanting to me. I didn't want anything that would require deep concentration. Picked up a book by LORD DUNSANY that I had found my last trip to the thrift store after flipping through the pages I knew it was a book to read |
I can't sit very long; so it was off into the deep woods hunting for trolls and unicorns.
a passage from this beautiful, lyrical book reads:
He walked in the sparkling morning through scenes familiar from infancy; he saw the ruddy orchids flowering early, reminding the bluebells they were just past their prime; the small young leaves of the oak were yet a brownish yellow; the new beech-leaves shone like brass, where the cuckoo was calling clearly; and a birch tree looked like a wild wood-land creature that had draped herself in green gauze.........
from the KING OF THE ELFLAND'S DAUGHTER
I think I found where the trolls live,
in a culvert under the road
or maybe under the gnarly roots of this dead aspen tree
but..... not even a whisper of unicorn hooves
or a snort as it caught my scent
THEN
Shortly before dusk I was rescued
good thing I had my reading glasses so Glen could see to check the fuses
He said, "the fuses are good, I guess the new alternator we put in is bad. We'll jump it and then I will drive it home as fast as I can, (which can be pretty fast because the speedometer doesn't work and the burb loves to go FAST----I call it airplane mode----), we may have to jump it several times to get it home."
"Well", said I, "If you don't see me behind you don't get worried, I will be along shortly if it quits running, but I might find something I have to look at on the way home." Glen nods his head knowingly, sometimes it takes 3 or 4 hours to make a one hour drive because I have to discover all the wonders along the way
almost to the summit
(notice the duct-taped back window)
saw this sign placed along the road next to a steep drop-off, I had to find a place on the twisty, winding road to turn around and go back and get a picture. Some one on the road crew has a great sense of humor, or just was ready to go home and didn't realize how the sign was placed
cows along the open road
on the way back to the farm a few days later
this ole gal was laying on her back with 4 legs sticking in the air
I am lucky it was just a bad alternator
and not
a cow through the windshield (one experience of that happening is enough)
hope no one was seriously hurt
No, I didn't take the burbanator back down to the farm. I drove 17 year old Wilma down for my last CSA delivery and market. She is fairly dependable, and took me to the farm and back up to Roosevelt without a hitch
we'll see how the trip down again goes in a
couple of days
keep your fingers crossed
should buy a new(er) vehicle
something that won't leave me stranded
along the road,
but where's the
FUN IN THAT?
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