It Happened Again, Only Worse!

(Note: This blog was started on Monday, July 7 and is being completed on Saturday, July 12 – it has been tough to get an internet connection.)

As I write this, Kathy, the kids, and I are sitting in our broken down R.V. alongside route 94 just north of Minneapolis. After receiving a clean bill of health from a couple of guys named Jim Bob and Guido (their names were changed to protect the guilty) at the tire store in Grove City, we were confident that all of our tires were good enough to take us the next 7,000 miles. Well, they weren’t.

While driving at 60 mph in heavy traffic, we had a blowout. Of course, my carefully refined driving skills and superhero quick reflexes managed to get us safely to the side of the road where we promptly called our roadside assistance company ($80 well spent). They immediately dispatched a guy named Monty from Wisconsin – yes I said from Wisconsin!

So here we sit, waiting for next 1 ½ hours for my main man Monty…

Since we had nothing better to do for the next 90 minutes and considering that the R.V. made a pretty big target for the sleep deprived tractor trailer drivers passing by, I figured it would be in the best interest of the Leonzo’s physical safety to stand off to the side of the rear of the R.V. so that we could dive out of the way in the event of an impending collision. After about five minutes of standing in the high weeds and sucking down diesel fumes, the brilliant idea of getting out some of our folding chairs came to mind. So I grabbed a couple of chairs, set them up in the weeds and provided some much needed comfort for Kathy and Mikey.

Little did I know that the trusty Minnesota Department of Transportation and Highway Patrol were monitoring our every action through a traffic camera positioned at an overpass about 500 yards away. It didn’t take long for a MDOT Roadside Assistance truck to pull up. The rescue man was quick to inform us (in a very kind way I might add) that we were a bunch of idiots and that the safest place was in the R.V. He said something like, “If you stand back here, you WILL die” and then told us to get in the R.V., sit on the passenger side and buckle our seat belts. I guess that way if we got hit at least they could identify the bodies. After ensuring that we were “safe” he went on his way and we continued to wait for Monty.

Well Monty finally arrived. His equipment… an old pickup truck with a cap and a flashing yellow light, two small bottle jacks, a couple of 2x4s, an air compressor, and an overflowing tool box. Being a “President’s Member” of Camping World’s Roadside Assistance Plan, I had a little bit higher expectations… perhaps a real tow truck with a real jack (is that too much to ask?)

So with traffic flying by, Monty examined the situation. Yes, the outside, rear tire on the passenger side was indeed blown. That was bad news, but to make matters worse the two interior rear tires were also flat. Yes, we had three flat tires (and only one spare). Even preachers know that is not good.

Monty’s plan… put the spare on the outside passenger side and then drive really, really slowly to the exit which was about ½ mile away. Mike’s plan… drive the R.V. into one of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes, collect the insurance money, and take the family on a cruise. Of course with my luck, the ship would probably sink.

So Monty went to work… well sort of. He tried jacking up the R.V. but the jack kept sinking in the soft sand along the side of the road. Monty needed wood blocks to support the jack… he didn’t have them. Fortunately we did… so with traffic blowing by, I drug out our 2x12’s that we use to level the R.V. Then he needed another tool – he didn’t have it - but I did. This went on for about 45 minutes with me helping Monty (wasn’t he supposed to be helping me) until we finally got the R.V. jacked up and the spare tire installed.

Slowly we limped along with Monty following along - his little yellow light “protecting” us from the juggernaut of traffic screaming by – until we arrived at a Goodyear Tire Center at the top of the exit ramp. It was at this point that Monty informed me that although the tire change was covered by my roadside assistance plan, I still owed him $55… for what I don’t know, but I paid it so that I could simply get on with my life.

End of story… NOT! Of course Goodyear didn’t have the tires that we needed, but they can get them for next morning! They’re GOODYEAR! You would think that they would have some stinking R.V. tires! Oh well, what can you do? So we limped over to the Sam’s Club parking lot to stay for the night.

Then it hit me! Sam’s Club has a tire center… I’m a member… and God really does love me! So in I went in, hoping and praying that they might have four 225/R16 tires in stock and be able to install them before they closed at 7 p.m. (it was 6 p.m. at the time).

It is at this point that I must say, “God is so good!” They not only had four in stock… they had twelve in stock and Derrik and Eric – the Sam’s Club tire guys – said they would work a little overtime to put them on. Yes, that was really their names – kind of made me think of that television show with Bob Newhart – “Hi, I’m Larry, this is my brother Larry, and this is my other brother Larry.”

So with four new tires on the rear of the R.V. (I figured I wouldn’t take any chances and replaced them all) our five hours in Flat Tire Purgatory had come to an end.

By Mike

(Epilogue – So what happened to make three tires go flat? In Eric and Derrik’s expert opinion, when the guys in Grove City were checking the air pressure on the interior tires - which they struggled to do I might add – they ended up damaging the value stems. Over time, both value stems failed and the interior tires went flat – which we didn’t know because the outside tires were holding all of the weight. Eventually, after all of the driving from Grove City to Minnesota the one outside tire couldn’t take all of the weight and it blew out. The moral of the story – buy a new R.V.)