I didn’t think I would have anything to write about today.
It was just a day to drive west…
We left the motel room and were soon at the border crossing
into Canada. Our plan was to cross from Niagara Falls, New York to Michigan
through Ontario rather than on I-90 in Ohio – a trip we have done seemingly
hundreds of times, and find rather boring.
I handed the border crossing agent our passports. He asked
where we were going – I told him just across to Michigan. Then he asked, “What
are you carrying?” Now how in the world do I answer that question? Kaylyn and I
have been traveling for three weeks and we have all manner of stuff in the
truck and trailer. Does he want to hear about our travel brochures… dirty
laundry… assortment of zip-lock bags (how did people ever travel before zip-lock
bags?)… towels and sheets… cameras… knitting projects… chocolate supply??? I
hesitated, then answered, “Food and clothing.” That was enough, he let us
through. Maybe he was watching more for my response than what I actually said…
We continued on. I drove, Kaylyn fell asleep. The truck was
quiet, which was a good thing. Then I perceived a very faint, low-sounding
“hummm,” and associated the sound with our rig. I immediately crossed lanes
and pulled off the highway. When I looked in the side mirror I saw the source
of the sound. The driver’s side tire on Miss Marshmallow was flattened, and it
was smoky from the heat generated by the flopping tire on the road. Apparently
it went flat rather quickly and completely.
By now Kaylyn was awake. She wanted us to change the tire ourselves.
We called Greg – mindful that because we were in Canada the cell phone call was
expensive – who told her that we needed to call AAA, not consider changing it
ourselves. He was right.
So, the blessings that we thank the Lord for:
-I heard the very soft sound and moved over right away
before there was any damage to Miss Marshmallow.
- - we were right next to an on-ramp, so I was able to pull
completely off the highway with an on-ramp lane separating us from traffic
- - we were on a hard surface at the edge of the road, not
gravel
- - we had a GPS so we could tell the tow truck driver exactly
where we were. Have you had this happen? Some years ago we were driving to
Florida and suddenly a car went off the road ahead of us. The driver was OK. I
grabbed my cell phone to call for help, and realized I didn’t have a clue where
we were except on I-65 somewhere in Alabama. Fortunately a local person also
stopped, and called in the location. When I pulled over today, I had no idea
where we were except the route we were on… and somewhere in Ontario!
- - we had a brand new spare tire on the back, purchased at
Fleet Farm before we left, and mounted on the rim
- - we got an upgrade to our AAA before the trip which covers
the trailer and it was good in
Canada!
 |
| The flat tire. |
Within about half an hour a tow truck with its flashing
yellow lights was sitting behind us, and a kindly Mr. Roadside Assistance was
taking off the tire, which had cooled down by now. He jacked up the trailer and
struggled to remove the flattened tire, finally succeeding.
 |
| Can't get the tire in place. |
Then the trouble began. The fiberglass body of Miss Marshmallow hangs quite low, with great modesty, and the axle is up high. Mr. Roadside Assistance could not get the
new tire on the axle Poor Miss Marshmallow, already suffering the indignity of
being stuck beside the road, was now hoisted up to quite improper heights so
Mr. Roadside could get the tire on. He wrestled, she held on to what little
decorum she had left. The battle went on. Mr. Roadside would try a different
approach, then stop to think again. Several times Mr. Roadside repeated the
sequence of letting more air out of the spare tire, maneuvering the tire in a
new way, and then sitting back and scratching his head while he considered his
next strategy.
He finally decided that two heads are better than one, and
called for help. While he waited for another truck, he chatted with us. He told
us about a trip he had taken to Newfoundland to see his wife’s hometown. He
also told us that he is the tire technician at his place of work, he doesn’t
know that someone else will have a solution that he hasn’t tried. That was not
encouraging!
 |
| Two heads are better than one. |
After awhile another truck arrived and Mr. Roadside II
jumped out. With two men working on the project success was finally attained! I
teased Mr. Roadside that if he gets another call for a Scamp, he might not want
to take the call! He agreed.
So Miss Marshmallow was gently lowered so her skirts were in
the proper place and her dignity restored. We were on the road again, after a
two-hour delay.
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