Things seem to be going smooth as we aproach a little town we'll fuel up there. Passed a cross on the other side of the other road for god knows who but not our problem, then comes the rumbble and the burning smell. BRABADAWHAPWHAOPWAP. I look over to Matt just to get a feeling for the situation and admittedly his face doesn't fill me with confidence. So we pull over to find the problem. Open the hood, engines still there and doesn't seem angry so we do the walk around and one of the rear tires have blown out at the side. Not good but it could be so much worse we'll switch this out and be on our way in 10. Open the trunk and there's the spare tire and a rim not together... giggle. Well we passed a motel about a kilometer back no prob. so we run across the highway and find ourselves standing by a cross for god knows who all we can talkabout how much worse this could be.
Wandering into the motel there is the particular smell of fermeldilhyde, a computer from the mid eighties sun bleached yellowish brown, no cell reception, and no one around to answer the annoying bell. Now we're creeped. Wandering out we come across the owner cleaning a room and find out he's quite useless minus the conversation about his homeland (iraq), his personal political views (revolution is required apearently), the location of a tire shop, and the parting words "just remember what frank sinatra said."... With that we're sent on our way.
I don't know frank sinatra past I did it my way and poor Matt's in the same boat. Ah fuck it we'll do it our way. Get back to the car start her up laugh our asses of as the car fills with dust the smell of burning rubber and the sound of tire chunks thumping off the roof and we come over the ridge too see a town a few miles off and a truck stranded on the side of the road right in our way. So we stop to see if we can help and it's this old guy who lost his load of lumber and has two and a half finger on one hand but we have him on his way in about five minutes. After aurguing for a little bit we accept the ten dollars he gives us as a gratitude and head on our own way. Now I'm not sure where our heads were at by this time but all questions had passed away and we knew we'd get home, just no clue what was between here and there.
We pull into town and find the tire shop. There's no rubber left on the tire and the rims been pounded flat. We've got about 34 dollars now thanks to buddy and the spare comes to about thirty which leaves us enough for a coke each.
Life is great and the road looks clear. Some misadventures are things you keep with you forever, be kind to strangers they are the one's who'll save you when no one else is around.
Unknown Adventurous
- 16 years, 9 months, 17 days ago