Reputation for Trouble

“Concealed talent brings no reputation.” – Desiderius Erasmus

“You guys should be in a NASCAR Pit Crew.”  That’s what the cheery MFA worker told us Wednesday morning as my husband was wiping tire residue on his blue jeans.  “Yeah, well, we’ve had a bit of experience.” 

With a trailer load of four horses, we were on our way to practice our cross country skills at Longview Horse Park.  When we stopped for gas, we noticed two of the trailer wheels were looking a bit low on air.  Being the safety conscious types, we decided to air up a bit before getting back on the road.  You know the light hiss sound the valve makes when you’re filling up, well the back tire kept making that noise, even after we were done filling it up.  HISSSSSSS.  Bingo…leaky tire.  At least it wasn’t a blow-out and we weren’t on the highway and we had air right there for the spare, and it wasn’t raining…yet.

I popped my head in the truck to inform our passengers of the situation, then we began the well rehearsed routine of trailer tire changing.  Loosen the lug nuts.  Grunt. Drive up the ramp.  Horses -stomp, stomp, stomp.  (Even though this was Nutmeg’s fifth flat, she still doesn’t like them)  Loosen the lug nuts the rest of the way.  Remove tire.  Umph.  Remove spare.  Put spare in place.  Cuss.  Screw on lug nuts.  Insert dirty joke or comment about the weather.  Hoist dead tire into place and secure.  Pull a muscle.   Drive off ramp.  Horses stomp some more.  Tighten lug nuts.  Groan and Grunt.  Tighten lug nuts again.  Look for someplace to wipe your extremely dirty appendages.

We have it down to a science, but I was surprised that our passengers didn’t get out of the truck to watch our Mad Skills or simply to stretch their legs during the wait.  When we got back on the road we learned why.  “So, your reputation for tire troubles is true.  Glad we got that out of the way.” 

Come on, this wasn’t even my truck and trailer.  Can’t I leave a little thing like four flats in two years behind me!  After all, I’m hitting fifty/fifty.  Two truck blow-outs, two trailer miss-haps and of course there have been a few trips where blessedly nothing went wrong, but no one remembers those because they don’t make good stories, speaking of which, this one isn’t done.

We made it to our destination in plenty of time, had a delightful day, loaded up and headed home. Thump, thwack, thwack, thwack.  “That’s a tire isn’t it?”  Oh yeah, tire number two.  Thankfully, I knew there was a gas station with an air pump just up the road (knowledge from a previous tire experience).  We pulled in and checked how much air was left in the leaky tire.  It seemed to be holding at 40, far below what it should be, but enough to allow us to limp along home.  So, grunt, stomp, stomp, umph, cuss, comment on the weather (it still isn’t raining, though there was a 70% chance), pull another muscle, stomp, groan and grunt and back on the road we go.

When the vehicle started shaking suspiciously, we got quite concerned.  One tire, all in a day’s work.  Two tires, not unheard of, but a third tire would spell disaster.   I’m sure there were some whispered prayers as we traveled the reaming sixty miles or so, all the while expecting another tire to go.  I was even believing my own reputation for tire trouble.  Someone was looking out for us because we did make it home without further major incident.

For most people, that would have been a disaster of a trip.  Two flats could have easily ruined their day, but me, well, I was just living up to my reputation and showing off my husband’s concealed talent for changing tires.  A Fresh Perspective on Tire Trouble Taken.