flat tire

This evening, when I meant to be home preparing my sermon, I was instead laying on the ground across the road from home of John and Regina Witt. Now, I wasn’t laying down the whole time, some of the time I was stooped over. You see, I was attempting to change a tire. Cooper had spent the day with my parents. Laurie was driving out hwy 499 towards Berea to pick him up but that’s as far as she got (just less than an 1/8 of a mile) when she realized the tire was completely flat. She walked Ainsley and Elan back home, called me, and I went to change the tire.

Now I’ve driven a lot of cars in my short life and many of them have been less than pristine. And inevitably, some have had thread barren tires or otherwise poor tires, others have been tragically punctured by either road debris or poor driving. So, I’m somewhat accustomed to changing tires. Consequently, today should be no problem.

I tried first one jack and couldn’t make it work. I have never seen such an odd jack as came with Laurie’s Volvo. So, I switched to another. The second jack I used was in the compartment in the car where the manufacturers had installed it. I feel like I must have used it before but none-the less, it was firmly attached to the car. I pulled, tugged, and jerked and finally released it from the car with the assistance of two pry bars. So, with the second jack in hand, I attempted lifting the car once again. No luck, the jack worked fine, I just wasn’t strong enough to turn the handle. I re-situated the jack, strained and struggled and tried again which resulted in the car raising ever so slightly and then sliding off the jack.

So, frustrated, I went back to the first jack. And finally on this attempt, having sweated and rolled all over the parking spot and having finally paused to read the directions on the strange, unfamiliar style of jack, I was able to get the car lifted up high enough to change the tire. And that, well, that’s when the challenge began.

I have also never seen lug bolts so stubbornly resistant to removal. Actually, most cars I have driven have had lug nuts rather than lug bolts, but the principle is the same. At any rate, they were stuck pretty well. I couldn’t have gotten those lugs bolts off if you’d promised me a brand new car in exchange.

About the time I was pondering turning the bolts the wrong way to snap them off or to possibly give up and call a tow truck, John Witt crossed the street to help.

He actually made several trips back and forth across the street retrieving tools and a tank of air, but ultimately, he and I got the bolts off, even the last one which was particularly challenging. All-in-all, excluding John’s company, it was a pretty miserable experience. I’m sure glad John showed up to help.