The Trip Home

On a Tuesday evening Ron met me at my office after work with the truck he was going use to tow the boat. My 19 year-old son, Charlie, came along, too, after dropping Laura's sister Christa off at the office. Christa and Laura were going to go to dinner and a movie with someone from work who was going on maternity leave at the end of the week. Since she'd be unavailable for the evening, I took Laura's cell phone with me. Ron, Charlie and I made the 50-ish mile trip to Ravenswood and met up with Dottie. She showed us the way to her boat-friend's house, north of town.

When we arrived, Ron took a look at the trailer tires and said we'd better stop in Ravenswood and put some air in them. I noted that the tires were also pretty much bereft of tread. We stopped at a Speedway station and after we were back on the road I asked Ron if he had noticed if the spare tire had air in it. He hadn't. He said the right side tire looked pretty shabby and had him a little worried.

About twenty miles south of Ravenswood, just past the Ripley/Fairplain exit of I-77, the left side tire disintegrated. The spare, which looked even shabbier than the worrisome right side tire, was completely flat. It was about 7:45.

At about 7:46 a young courtesy patrol driver named Alvin pulled in behind us. He had an air tank in his truck so we used it to inflate the trailer's spare tire. The tire held air.

When Ron pulled the air hose off, the valve stem came with it and of course the air had the good sense to leave the scene as well.

Alvin said he could drive me somewhere to buy a tire. I decided I'd better get two if we were going to have any chance of getting the boat home. Thinking ahead, Ron tried the spare wheel on the trailer's hub to make sure it would fit.

It didn't.

We got a block out of Alvin's truck to put under the trailer, jacked up the other side, took off the remaining wheel, and Alvin and I loaded them in his truck and set off.

"Where do you think I might be able to buy tires in Ripley this late in the day?" I asked Alvin. "Oh, I don't know. I don't live around here. I'm from Boone County," was his reply.

Alvin explained that his patrol area was from Fairplain to somewhere, Sissonville, I think, and that he'd never been all the way to Ripley. (The guy who patrols Corridor G in southern West Virginia is from up north around Wheeling, no doubt.) Alvin said we should get off at the Fairplain exit because he knew of some service stations there.

Alvin: Is that one over there a service station?
Me: No, that's a convenience store.
Alvin: How about this one over here?
Me: Looks to me like it's a restaurant that's been closed for several years.
Alvin: Look up here. There's an auto parts store. I'll bet they have a garage.
Me: I don't think Advance stores have garages. I'm pretty sure they don't sell tires either.
Alvin: Look right there. They have a garage right there.
Me: I believe that's the Jiffy Lube next door.
Alvin: Well we better stop and check.

I went into Advance and asked the guy at the counter if he knew where I could get tires in Ripley at 8:00 PM on a Tuesday night. He said maybe Mike's Tires (pronouncing it Mac's tars). I asked him where Mac's was and he explained that Mac had a service truck and would bring the tars to me and put them on the wheels on the spot. So the Advance guy called Mac ...er Mike and then told me it would take about 20-30 minutes for him to get there. Alvin said he didn't have any problem waiting so he and I went out and sat in his truck.

I had Laura's cell phone with me and I tried to call Dottie to see if she knew of any all night tire stores in Ripley. I would have preferred to call Laura's younger brother, Tim, but I didn't know his number and Laura hadn't programmed her family's numbers into the phone memory like I asked her to do several months ago. If I'd been able to get Candy on the phone, she, being a notorious bargain hunter, probably could have had some tires flown in from Atlanta at a substantial discount. Dottie didn't answer. I assume she stayed to visit with her boat-selling friend for a while. After half an hour I finally did get her on the phone, told her my situation and she gave me Tim's number. Tim couldn't come up with any better ideas than calling a road service truck. Alvin speculated on whether Mike was going to show.

After about 10 more minutes Alvin and I went back into Advance to ask if Mike had called to say he couldn't make it or something. The Advance guy called him again and said Mac should be there any minute. I asked where Mike was coming from and a girl who also was working there said "Mealwood." I asked where that was and she said it was just past something-or-other which was next to something else and when I said I didn't know where any of those places were she looked at Alvin as if to say, "where did you find this clown" and said it was about 10 or 15 miles away. I enjoyed Alvin's company for about five more minutes and Mike pulled in behind us.

Mike introduced himself. He was an amicable young guy and I tried to break the ice by showing him the shredded tire and asking if he could put a patch on it. He grinned and threw the tire on the pavement and started attacking it with a couple of 6 foot long metal bars. I asked how much this was going to cost and he just kept working. I decided not to pursue that line of questioning, figuring that I'd have to pay whatever he asked anyway and if it was over my credit card limit I could tell him to take them back off. I looked into the empty flat bed of Mike's flat bed truck and asked, "Did you bring tires?" "I put t'em inna front seat so 'ey wouldn' get jossled off'n air," he said, still working. Whew.

Mike finished up and went to his truck cab to write up the bill using one of those little green guest checks like you might get at a mom and pop restaurant. I asked if I'd be able to pay by credit card and he said no problem, he could call it in to his office. I tried to visualize what the office of "Mac's Tars" in "Mealwood" might look like. The total came to $142. $50 each for the tires, $35 for labor and some taxes. More than I would have paid at Wal or K or some other Mart, but pretty reasonable for roadside service.

Alvin drove me and my new tires back to where Charlie and Ron were waiting. If I'd been thinking clearly before I left, I could have taken Ron's cell phone number with me (maybe programmed into the phone memory) so I could have kept him posted on what I was doing for the last hour and a half. We put the wheels back on, gathered up the tools, thanked Alvin for his help, and were once again on our way. The rest of the trip was uneventful. We stopped off at my office and picked up my car and Ron followed me home, arriving at about 11:00PM. Ron said he could come down tomorrow (Wednesday) and put the boat in the water.

Next: Strike One

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