I recently wrote about how I was not even close to Boy Scout material when it came to power outages in my life. Always prepared? Not hardly. Close to prepared? Not that either. After what I went through, you would think - at the very least - I would own some fancy, schmancy flashlight by now. Nope. It's still on the "to do" or "to buy" list. And, sadly, it'll still probably be on that list when the next power outage comes around.
I'm really not much better prepared for car problems. Flat tires were never a problem when I drove around in Africa. The roads were so hard on tires in Zambia. I had lots of flat tires. But, it didn't matter how remote the location, every single time it happened, a young man showed up out of nowhere and offered to change the tire. How did these young men know how to do that when odds were close to one hundred percent that none of them owned a car? It's one of life's African mysteries to me. I don't have the answer to that riddle. But, they knew. And, it was the best investment of a few dollars tip that I've ever had in my life.
Fortunately, roads are better in Ohio. I've never had a blowout from driving over pot holes in Buckeye Nation. But, on a couple of occasions, I've discovered flat tires when I approached my parked P.T. Cruiser. They have all been temporarily fixed by those handy, dandy canned tire inflators. God bless whoever invented those wonderful little cans of liquefied propellant and tire sealant. They've fixed the problem long enough to get me to a repair shop. (Funny thing though, they've never once fixed the flat. It always seems to require a new tire.) Anyway, I'm not completely hopeless in the Boy Scout department. I always carry a can of Fix-a-Flat in my car.
Another reason I'm very glad not to have had serious flat tires in the past few years is because I never knew how to access the spare tire in my P.T. Cruiser. I knew it was located under the car, but that's all I knew. My first step with a ruined tire would be to call a repair service. And, fortunately, that never happened. But, in recent weeks, I've changed to a Fiat 500. So, at the car lot, one of the questions I knew to ask about was how to access that dang tire. You have to open the trunk, unscrew a bolt inside the car that lowers the tire underneath. I never would have figured that out on my own.
This Fiat is really a baby sized car when compared to my previous one. I'm a little shocked by the lack of storage space in it. But, I have a box of goodies for emergencies that takes up about a third of the trunk space. It has the usual assortment of treasures: jumper cables, a four-way cross wrench (I had to look up the name for this tool), first aid kit, flashlight, collapsible orange cone, pocket knife and, of course, a can of Fix-a-Flat. I felt moderately prepared. Maybe even a little more than moderately.
The day after I bought the car, I headed off to that state up north that no good Buckeye even likes to utter. That's a good way to test and see if you bought a lemon or not. Take it on a seven hour ride to rural, rural *ichigan. Now, it was not all that cold in Ohio when I departed. I wore a long-sleeve T-shirt and a long-sleeve shirt. It was warm enough for the length of time it took to fill the car with gas. But, it never occurred to me that I was driving into a winter wonderland. Seriously? Who would want to live in that kind of cold with that kind of snow? One day it snowed seven inches! No wonder wolverines have such nasty temperaments!
While up north, my sister and I planned to visit some cousins. We hopped into my baby car and headed to the gas station. That's when I realized I didn't have my wallet. Always prepared? I told you that wasn't me. My sister took over the wheel and off we headed. When we turned on to a new road, the ride was suddenly bumpy. We weren't sure if it was the road or the car. Then, a new light showed up on the dashboard that my older car never had. It said that the right front tire needed an air pressure check. Well, air pressure wasn't the problem. The car needed a new tire. The old one was totally shredded with several gaping holes. I'm really not sure what happened.
This might have been a good time to call for roadside assistance. However, ever the unprepared Boy Scout, that insurance card was in my wallet which wasn't with me. Yeah, I'm a lot closer to a Beagle Scout.
It was this day and this moment when those seven inches of snow fell. It was a freezing mess outside. And, it was also when I realized some of the things you need in order to be prepared for car problems in a winter wonderland. Seriously, you need a pull-over hat. A stylish fedora just didn't cut it. You also need some heavy-duty gloves. I didn't have any, either stylish or any kind of duty. My shoes were my usual red tennis shoes. In no time at all, they were completely soaked. No, it never once occurred to me to bring sturdy warm shoes for potential problems up north. And, there were a few mechanical issues that I was about to realize as well.
Okay, I knew how to access the spare tire. I opened the trunk and unscrewed the bolt. Amid the flutter of snow, I read the owner's manual. It said to lower the tire and unscrew a special bolt that was specially made to be turned by human hands. Well, it might have been made that way, but it wasn't turning. It obviously hadn't been turned in a long time and it wasn't going to budge without a wrench. Wrench? Who carries one of those? Who even owns one of those? That wasn't in my car (or home) so I certainly wasn't prepared for it. So, my sister put up the orange cone and we crawled back into the warmth of my car.
My brother-in-law got the call and was on the way. In the meantime, a good Samaritan (er, Michigander) stopped by. He took a look at the tire and agreed we needed a wrench. But, this guy traveled with one. Who does that? (I now do.) The joint that held the tire under the car needed to be folded in half and slid through the hole in the tire rim. It wasn't about to fold. We hammered it a few times with the wrench, but it was decided we probably needed to spray some WD-40 on that sucker. Well, guess what "Samarigander" had in his truck? Guess what is now on my shopping list? And, it worked!
By this time, my brother-in-law showed up and took over the rescue. The "Samarigander" went on his merry way never hearing one word about the Ohio State Buckeyes or how they shellacked those Wolverines 56 - 27 this past football season. Nope, not a word. My sister agreed it was a good time to keep silent on that subject. This man only received sincere gratitude and repeated thanks.
As my brother-in-law knelt down in mud and slush, he said, "You two can go on in my truck, and I'll take care of this problem." But, you really can't leave someone out in blizzard cold when they are helping you. Instead, I unsuccessfully tried to block the wind and swirling flakes from his path. It might not have helped one lick, but at least I was outside suffering at his side until the tire was replaced and he could go on his merry way to find new ones.
Obviously, I wasn't prepared for a winter wonderland. Seriously, I learned a thing or two from this experience. But I am a little curious why my sister and her husband were not as prepared as they could have been. After all, they call this "wonderland" home. When my brother-in-law replaced the tire, he wore neither gloves nor pull-over hat. He knew full well what he was getting himself into. That's a mystery. And, my sister had no hat and the wrong shoes as well. Her hair, which had been curled and looked her best, was damp, stringy and miserable by the time we crawled into that truck for warmth. Our cousins had to accept us "as is" when we arrived at their doorstep. But, seriously, isn't that how you want family to accept you any time of the year, winter wonderland or not?
I'm really not much better prepared for car problems. Flat tires were never a problem when I drove around in Africa. The roads were so hard on tires in Zambia. I had lots of flat tires. But, it didn't matter how remote the location, every single time it happened, a young man showed up out of nowhere and offered to change the tire. How did these young men know how to do that when odds were close to one hundred percent that none of them owned a car? It's one of life's African mysteries to me. I don't have the answer to that riddle. But, they knew. And, it was the best investment of a few dollars tip that I've ever had in my life.
Fortunately, roads are better in Ohio. I've never had a blowout from driving over pot holes in Buckeye Nation. But, on a couple of occasions, I've discovered flat tires when I approached my parked P.T. Cruiser. They have all been temporarily fixed by those handy, dandy canned tire inflators. God bless whoever invented those wonderful little cans of liquefied propellant and tire sealant. They've fixed the problem long enough to get me to a repair shop. (Funny thing though, they've never once fixed the flat. It always seems to require a new tire.) Anyway, I'm not completely hopeless in the Boy Scout department. I always carry a can of Fix-a-Flat in my car.
Another reason I'm very glad not to have had serious flat tires in the past few years is because I never knew how to access the spare tire in my P.T. Cruiser. I knew it was located under the car, but that's all I knew. My first step with a ruined tire would be to call a repair service. And, fortunately, that never happened. But, in recent weeks, I've changed to a Fiat 500. So, at the car lot, one of the questions I knew to ask about was how to access that dang tire. You have to open the trunk, unscrew a bolt inside the car that lowers the tire underneath. I never would have figured that out on my own.
This Fiat is really a baby sized car when compared to my previous one. I'm a little shocked by the lack of storage space in it. But, I have a box of goodies for emergencies that takes up about a third of the trunk space. It has the usual assortment of treasures: jumper cables, a four-way cross wrench (I had to look up the name for this tool), first aid kit, flashlight, collapsible orange cone, pocket knife and, of course, a can of Fix-a-Flat. I felt moderately prepared. Maybe even a little more than moderately.
The day after I bought the car, I headed off to that state up north that no good Buckeye even likes to utter. That's a good way to test and see if you bought a lemon or not. Take it on a seven hour ride to rural, rural *ichigan. Now, it was not all that cold in Ohio when I departed. I wore a long-sleeve T-shirt and a long-sleeve shirt. It was warm enough for the length of time it took to fill the car with gas. But, it never occurred to me that I was driving into a winter wonderland. Seriously? Who would want to live in that kind of cold with that kind of snow? One day it snowed seven inches! No wonder wolverines have such nasty temperaments!
While up north, my sister and I planned to visit some cousins. We hopped into my baby car and headed to the gas station. That's when I realized I didn't have my wallet. Always prepared? I told you that wasn't me. My sister took over the wheel and off we headed. When we turned on to a new road, the ride was suddenly bumpy. We weren't sure if it was the road or the car. Then, a new light showed up on the dashboard that my older car never had. It said that the right front tire needed an air pressure check. Well, air pressure wasn't the problem. The car needed a new tire. The old one was totally shredded with several gaping holes. I'm really not sure what happened.
This might have been a good time to call for roadside assistance. However, ever the unprepared Boy Scout, that insurance card was in my wallet which wasn't with me. Yeah, I'm a lot closer to a Beagle Scout.
It was this day and this moment when those seven inches of snow fell. It was a freezing mess outside. And, it was also when I realized some of the things you need in order to be prepared for car problems in a winter wonderland. Seriously, you need a pull-over hat. A stylish fedora just didn't cut it. You also need some heavy-duty gloves. I didn't have any, either stylish or any kind of duty. My shoes were my usual red tennis shoes. In no time at all, they were completely soaked. No, it never once occurred to me to bring sturdy warm shoes for potential problems up north. And, there were a few mechanical issues that I was about to realize as well.
Okay, I knew how to access the spare tire. I opened the trunk and unscrewed the bolt. Amid the flutter of snow, I read the owner's manual. It said to lower the tire and unscrew a special bolt that was specially made to be turned by human hands. Well, it might have been made that way, but it wasn't turning. It obviously hadn't been turned in a long time and it wasn't going to budge without a wrench. Wrench? Who carries one of those? Who even owns one of those? That wasn't in my car (or home) so I certainly wasn't prepared for it. So, my sister put up the orange cone and we crawled back into the warmth of my car.
My brother-in-law got the call and was on the way. In the meantime, a good Samaritan (er, Michigander) stopped by. He took a look at the tire and agreed we needed a wrench. But, this guy traveled with one. Who does that? (I now do.) The joint that held the tire under the car needed to be folded in half and slid through the hole in the tire rim. It wasn't about to fold. We hammered it a few times with the wrench, but it was decided we probably needed to spray some WD-40 on that sucker. Well, guess what "Samarigander" had in his truck? Guess what is now on my shopping list? And, it worked!
By this time, my brother-in-law showed up and took over the rescue. The "Samarigander" went on his merry way never hearing one word about the Ohio State Buckeyes or how they shellacked those Wolverines 56 - 27 this past football season. Nope, not a word. My sister agreed it was a good time to keep silent on that subject. This man only received sincere gratitude and repeated thanks.
As my brother-in-law knelt down in mud and slush, he said, "You two can go on in my truck, and I'll take care of this problem." But, you really can't leave someone out in blizzard cold when they are helping you. Instead, I unsuccessfully tried to block the wind and swirling flakes from his path. It might not have helped one lick, but at least I was outside suffering at his side until the tire was replaced and he could go on his merry way to find new ones.
Obviously, I wasn't prepared for a winter wonderland. Seriously, I learned a thing or two from this experience. But I am a little curious why my sister and her husband were not as prepared as they could have been. After all, they call this "wonderland" home. When my brother-in-law replaced the tire, he wore neither gloves nor pull-over hat. He knew full well what he was getting himself into. That's a mystery. And, my sister had no hat and the wrong shoes as well. Her hair, which had been curled and looked her best, was damp, stringy and miserable by the time we crawled into that truck for warmth. Our cousins had to accept us "as is" when we arrived at their doorstep. But, seriously, isn't that how you want family to accept you any time of the year, winter wonderland or not?
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