What is the best way to end a nine day trip visiting family and meandering through Oregon? Well, I’m pretty sure it isn’t getting a flat tire six hours from home but I could be wrong.
After a long day of driving through the desolate side of Oregon, bear in mind both Dave and I enjoy backroads and off the beaten path routes so we intentionally took a more wandering route, we finally stopped for the evening in Winnemucca, Nevada at a lovely RV park. It was so nice to just walk outside of the park for dinner at Wingers and of course gambling had we wished to. No extra driving, no worrying about having drinks with dinner, notta just unwinding. The night was peaceful despite the large size of the RV park as there were a minimal number of residents, probably due to the earliness of the year. Morning found us rested and ready for the final six hours to home. In fact, with such a short amount of time remaining, we were a little leisurely in packing up.
Complacency is the enemy my friend and someday I’ll remember that. We were so mellow about leaving we forgot there was less than 40 miles left in the fuel tank…until we were on the interstate. Having left from the outskirts of Winnemucca the soonest exit was a dozen miles down the road and even then it would have been turning around to return to Winnemucca. We opted instead to continue driving to a gas station about 20 miles away. Somewhere along the line there was a strange noise coming from one of the tires. Dave pulled over, walked around the vehicle and trailer but couldn’t find any reason for the sound so onward we went and the noise eventually quit. The gas station we chose was quite literally the only one for miles around and they had jacked up the cost of fuel accordingly. Once recovered from sticker shock, we opted to buy only what was necessary to reach the next gas station and hope for better pricing. As Dave was walking around, kicking the tires so to speak, he found the reason for the earlier noise; one of the trailer tires had lost a large section of center tread.
Not a problem, it’s only a tire change. The gas station had an expansive dirt parking lot so we pulled forward and off to the side. And that’s when the wheels came off the bike. Normally my husband is one of the most prepared people you will meet, however, this was not his best day. He had not checked on the trailer’s spare tire before we left home. With the trailer already jacked up, pulling off it’s spare out was a bit disappointing as it barely had any air in it. Dave is usually composed but he was beginning to show cracks as the gas station did not have an air pump to fill the sad piece of rubber and we were 30 minutes from the nearest place that could help us, Winnemucca. Looking around the barren wasteland there was nothing but dirt, blue skies…and a diesel mechanic shop a short walk in front of us (how did we miss seeing that earlier?). I made my way over, praying they were not only open but able to help.
I was greeted by a woman in dusty coveralls who was just as nice as could be. Sure, they had an air pump, just bring the tire over. Great! Problem solved! We’ll get the tire filled up and be on our way. Yeah…about that…Dave had been on a mission in replacing the tire with the spare and already had the equipment put away when I told him where to the air pump was. Rather than remove the tire, he opted to drive over. The trailer made it about 20 feet before the spare went completely flat with the old the stem separating from the tire. Dave was not happy and his frustration level was rising fast. We were less than six hours from home and this was so exasperating. Then something happened. Two men walked out of the mechanic’s shop and over to us. Now, it wasn’t the fact that there suddenly men around to help, it was their spouting ideas for how to fix the issue that shrank Dave’s stress level until he was able to joke around with them about our predicament. They discussed what they could do and what they couldn’t do to help us. They tried replacing the rotted stem with the one from the original tire but that one disintegrated as well. Being Sunday, the only place in town open which sold tires was Walmart so we had to hope for the best with them. The trio from the mechanic’s shop put cones around our now disengaged trailer and promised to watch it while we ran back to Winnemucca.
Walmart…Walmart…Walmart. What can I say but wow. The kid i.e. young adult working registered in the automotive department was beyond useless (but he was funny so there’s that). The two customers standing there chatting with him knew more about his department than he did and were far more helpful. The head of the mechanics who might know if they had a stem to fit our tire, probably didn’t have one though according to the kid (as they didn’t have any replacement tires for us), was out and he didn’t know when the guy would be back. As Dave and I stood there trying to figure out what to do next, the head mechanic strode in. After listening to our plight he looked at the tire Dave had been carrying around and said “yup, got a bunch of those in the back. Give me 10 minutes.”
He was done in less than three and didn’t charge us for the stem, the work or filling the tire with air so it was ready to go. He was a blessing in disguise.
We filled up with fuel in Winnemucca to avoid being overcharged later on, drove back to the gas station, changed the tire and hooked up the trailer. I profusely thanked the head mechanic as he was the only one I saw when I walked into the shop. I’m sure he knows how helpful he and his people were in getting us back on the road but I doubt he knows how much his kindness and willingness to assist prevented my husband from melting into a pool of stressed out anger and frustration.
Fortunately, the rest of the trip home was uneventful. Our laid back 6 hours turned into almost 10 by the time all was said and done and we were exhausted. We’re actually grateful for the tire problem oddly enough. It was going to happen eventually as the tires were older and we really didn’t take the trailer out too often. Despite the frustration, it was better to have happened at a time and place where we were able to get assistance and solve the problem fairly quickly instead of falling apart hours from the nearest town on rarely used road in the middle of nowhere (again, why take the interstate when you can explore the less traveled road?).
What turned this potential bad moment into a more memorable and humorous one? The kindness of strangers.
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