Flat Tire


The drive back from Ottawa was a little longer than expected. It typically takes around six hours with the odd rest stop, this one took seven and a half thanks to an unexpected traffic jam.

It was while sitting in this traffic jam that my wife called me with the news. She had run over something, felt it even, probably heard it too. Clang, clang, clang, with every rotation.

When she finally stopped, the hairdresser was only half a kilometre away, couldn’t miss that appointment, she reported hearing a loud hissing noise. We both agreed that was air, lots of it. Upon closer inspection, she saw what looked like a spike or something equally big. There wasn’t time for further details… the salon was waiting.

Got home a couple hours later, picked up a few tools, my son and one of the summer tires.

Headed half a kilometre up the street to the hairdresser. My wife’s hair was done, looked really good but the tire was still flat. At least the annoying hissing had stopped. There was a large bolt, maybe six inches long, only half visible, right through the tire. It’s probably ruined… both the tire and the bolt.

The Pit Crew got to work…

My son placed a brick, the one we keep in the back of the truck, under the front tire, jacked up the car, changed the tire and headed home. From start to finish, including checking out my wife’s hair, we had used up fifteen minutes.

I’ll bring the tire to the garage later in the week to see if it can be brought back to life. The bolt, I’ll give to my wife as a reminder of the day she got her hair done while our poor tire was taking it’s last breath.


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