A.K.A: How low can a flat tire go?
It happened last night on my way home from visiting with my parents. I had both kids buckled safely in the back seat, and we were jamming out to some music. It was dark. And some stupid jerk high beamed me. I didn’t see the GIANT rock in the middle of the road until it was too late. Apparently, all this fluctuating weather caused some of the mountain to fall into the road last night. Lucky me.
In the seconds before I hit this monstrosity of stone, I had the brief thought- “Man, I hope that’s a shopping bag…”.
BAM!! SNAP! CLUNK!
Uh, yea it was much more solid than a shopping bag. I had to drive a little further down the road to find a pull off spot, and we kerplunked the whole, slow ride there. I knew instantly that the tire was flat, I was just hoping I hadn’t done any more damage than that.
As I’m trying to figure out where to pull off, calm down my ten year old, say a prayer of thanks that I didn’t flip the car, and put on my hazard lights- I told Siri to call my Dad. I figured I was closer to their house than my own, so he could help me out more quickly than if I had called my husband first.
In a shaky voice (Hey, I’m not afraid to say I was freaking out), I explained what had happened. By this point I had finally pulled off the road.
Dad gathered my approximate location and told me he was going to change out of his Pj’s and come right away.
Sigh of relief.
I hopped out of the car to assess the damage and found that I had parked in the muddiest spot in all of Marion County. My ten year old helped by holding the flashlight on his non-working iPhone. The tire was indeed VERY flat. It had a huge gaping hole and the rim had some damage as well. Despite this, I honestly thought we’d have the tire changed in a few minutes and I’d be on my merry way, with children in tow.
See that huge hole??
Dad arrived a few minutes later (Ok, in the dark, on the side of the road, it seemed like hours….but it wasn’t=) ) like a knight riding in a shiny hunter green stead, and started getting things ready.
We couldn’t get the cover off of the spare tire that is attached to the back of my CRV. The zippers had corroded and completely snapped off. We wrestled with it for at least 20 minutes before Dad whipped out his knife and cut the dang thing off.
I told ya. Like a Boss. I checked on the children, and the baby was crying while my oldest looked slightly bored. I figured I couldn’t really do much to help either at this stage, so we continued on.
It was time to “Jack things up”. The jack that came with my car was new and shiny and I thought to myself, this is gonna be easy! That jack is in prime condition for this job!!
There in lies the second problem.
Let me just insert here that I am an optimist. I usually see the good side of things before the bad. In this case, I totally understand the pessimist’s point of view. If you assume everything will go wrong, then you can’t be disappointed when it does. Only thankful when it doesn’t.
That stupid jack had to be the most difficult piece of equipment ever made. It took us over 45 minutes to get the car jacked up to the point where we could change the wheel. Dad and I took turns cranking that thing, and let me tell you, we are SORE today. During this time, baby Ronan fell asleep. Thank goodness.
Lug nuts were next. Because we had already loosened them, those babies popped off in no time.
Problemo Numero Tres.
Dad started to pull off the wheel. And it wouldn’t budge.
Stuck. On the car. Stupid tire.
I called my sister to get the number of the tow truck company because I figured at this point (an hour into it) that was my only option. Dad kicked the tire and used a wrench-y type thing (technical I know) to try and pry it off but that tire wasn’t moving. I called my husband back (Yes, I had already called him to tell him what had happened), and told him to come get us.
As I was dialing the towing company, Dad gave the tire one more kick (mainly out of frustration I think) and it fell off!! Woot Woot!! Now we were in business. I called the hubby back and put him on standby.
We got the other tire put on (only after having to jack up the car for another 10 minutes), then started the not as painful process of un-jacking (I think I made that term up) the car.
I was afraid I had messed something up, more than just the blown tire. So Dad followed me in his truck as I drove my busted CRV to the nearest gas station to test things out. The spare only had 8lbs of pressure in it, so the car was pulling hard to the right. Once in the parking lot, we were able to finally see each other well under the glowing florescent gas station lights. We were a muddy mess!! Haha, ok, so Dad had more than I as he did most of the work. I gave my Dad a muddy high five and a big hug, thanking him for coming to my rescue.
I was finally heading home. There were no more incidents last night, and we washed up and went to bed as soon as we got home.
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how you change a tire like a boss. You call your Dad=).
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