this was the weekend for the baby’s first trip south to see mamaw and papaw. i had thursday and friday off so we set off on friday morning for the first part of the jaunt, south euclid to mason ohio, I-71 south. the baby slept the entire way so we never stopped, just peeked as gas prices at every exit; High: $3.19, Low: $2.99
slept at mamaw’s and headed to papaw’s house in the morning. as we made our way into the dry counties of northern kentucky the baby decided to sleep the entire way again. after a wonderful day of horse back riding, fishing, golf cart (not 4-wheel) rides, kitty-cat chasing, and exploration of hay lofts, we headed back north.
the third leg of the trip featured both girls sleeping and the boy playing on his laptop as we wended our way north. venus and jupiter shown nicely in the western sky as the sun faded away. paul brown stadium was lit up across the river as we wound down the hill and over the river into ohio.
sunday would take us back home, and we set off, more or less on schedule, i figured since we had such success so far, the last portion of the trip would work out just as well. we hit the highway and cruised until we were just north of columbus when the girl informed us she had “to go.” we were just a couple miles from the rest area but before we could get to it we ran into a traffic jam, it looked like the conclusion to a high speed chase that crossed over from the north bound lanes to the south. everyone seemed to think this was very important and slowed down to have a look. in my small universe the little girl in the back informing me that she “couldn’t hold it much longer” was a much higher priority.
the traffic jam broke up and we made it to the rest area just south of exit 131. a quick run in and back out and we started back on to the highway which something like this:
_merging_
*thump* *THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP*
theboy: what was that?
thegirl: what’s that?
thebaby:
thewife: i think it’s a bungie cord
*thump* *thump* *thump*
me: i hit a bungie cord?
thewife: i think so.
theboy: what is that?
theigrl: what’s that?
the baby:
*thump* *thump* *slap* *slap* *slap* ** ** **
slowing down and pulling over to the side the wife queried my intentions, i told her i had to go take a look. the noise was centered around the right rear and had made quite a racket before it quieted down and i knew i needed to see the damage. i was a bit perplexed that i had not seen the thing in the road, but excused myself since i was merging and looking back when the impact occurred.
i pulled over, jumped out and walked around. inspection revealed the venomous hook end of the S hook nicely embedded in my right rear tire. trouble. tire swapping time. i jiggeled it and heard the air-hiss but the tire seemed to have pretty good pressure so i figured i’d limp up to the next exit, just a mile and a half away.
i debriefed the family and pulled out. i could hear the evil S hook thunking on every tire rotation and by the time we made the exit i could tell the tire was flat. the cops had a trailer pulled over at the top of the ramp and i pulled into the relative safety behind them.
the local sheriff walked back to me with that “what?” look on his face, i let him know “what” was up and he wandered back toward the trailer.
thus began the puzzle of the changing of the tire. i got the obvious parts done and was getting the hubcap off when the sheriff returned, pulling on ominous black gloves. i looked past him and saw the camper was gone and he had backed his cruiser up to my front bumper. the other cruiser was gone too.
sheriff: want a hand?
my consideration of his question lasted just over one full second. i knew i could change the tire. well, i figured i could, its one of those things that is supposed to be on the resume of every “male, father, husband.” i felt the van was in a pretty safe position up at the top of the ramp and off to the side. but then, a half second through my internal debate, i swear he flexed his black-gloved hands. it then occurred to me that i am the one hundred and thirty pound male, more at home behind a pc than in the pits of indy. this guy, however, was your standard 6′1″ 200 lbs officer had probably helped change a tire or two. also, he was armed.
so 1.3 seconds later:
me: sure!
i answered too quickly, i knew immediately, and that decision will always haunt me.
lugs loosened, van jacked up, time to get the spare. well, the spare in this van is underneath the back. and of course i’ve never looked at it. i know, everyone says “be sure to check the spare” before you go on a trip, but, really, who does?
there was a way to loosen the spare from inside the van via a wire-winch and we took it up and down twice but the damn spare would not release. i could see some kind of catch that i thought was holding the tire in its plastic holder, but i couldnt get it to unhook. by this time my sheriff-helper had abandoned me to go back to his car to catch some AC and i was getting pretty hot myself, although my temperature was fine.
the sheriff came back and said he got a call for “backup” which i’m pretty sure is cop-talk for “your tire changing operation is no longer interesting”. he advised me to call AAA to get a tow. i didn’t tell him i didnt have that, but he did pop off some flares behind me before he left.
a couple of minutes later another “helper” stopped by to tell me how to release my tire, which i had already done twice. if i saw him again right now i would not recognize him, this is the way of things in the heat of the man v. tire battle. he wandered off. i briefly wished i was armed at that point.
being mildly analytical i stopped for a full minute, looking back and forth from the back of the car to the glowing flares. the flares were my time limit. when the flares were done, i conceded i’d call for some kind of help. it also occured to me that this was a fine moment for the sysadmin to prove superiority over the sheriff. he was gone, afterall, so he couldn’t shoot me or anything anymore.
in short, i figured out the catch-release and what it was hung up on, but there’s no real easy to explain the specifics. i got my rusty, small, neglected spare onto the rim, loaded everything back into the trunk and pulled off the exit.
dropped everyone at burger king and took the van back over to the truck stop, got the spare up to 60 psi, gased up, and then rejoined the family.
i think if we could have struck back out right then i might have been okay but they had to eat, and then the baby had to eat while the other two played in the playground. it was around this time that i started to consider the condition of an under-the-trunk spare that had lived there since the birth of the car. a spare that lived in the bumpy, icy, wintry condition of northern ohio for several years.
anxiety ensued.
i checked it again before we set out. it was holding air but still looked scary next to the other full sized tires.
so we headed north again. i was cautious the whole time but the miles clicked off and we cruised north at a safe sixty miles per hour. we had one more stop to take care of the baby again and them limped the rest of the way home.
as we pulled into the driveway the scene near the end of the blues brothers came to mind after they parked the blue’s mobile for the last time and looked back and it fell apart.
the van didn’t fall apart, the spare was sound, and we made it home. i’ll note the entire family took it all in good order and we are back home again. anyone know of any good tire sales?