THIS is where my little pickup truck BELONGS! Not stranded along a road or in a shop!
As adventures go, my last one is mild - but only by the Grace of God; it could have been fatal to me and/or someone else.
A simple day, beginning with a simple quick run over to the lumber yard to pick up a few roofing supplies, is once again a simple day.
In between came annoyance, frustration, confusion, fear, and some anger.
Here's the story:
As I said, it was a quick trip to get a few things. The annoying noise coming from the replaced wheel of my vehicle had somewhat abated but on my way home it suddenly returned with a vengeance and the click/pop/thump became a grind.
Pulling to the side of the road was a no-brainer. Backing off the road and shoulder onto the side of someone's driveway likewise.
I first looked at the tread of the tire, having just a week ago gotten rid of one that was bad. It looked fine to me, not flat or damaged that I could see, so I figured I'd keep looking.
Checking the area of the driver's side front wheel for something picked up along the way that would account for the racket proved pointless, as did my admittedly amateur investigation of the parts. I didn't see anything extra, or loose, or hanging, or feel anything that might have been guilty - until I craned my head and looked at the inside of the tire rim itself.
Well by gosh and by golly THAT wasn't right! It was gouged something fierce and the wheel was most assuredly NOT sitting straight on its pegs. It scared me a little.
Having an abundance of natural intelligence and a modicum of common sense, I thought to look at the outside of said wheel.
When I realized that three of the five lug nuts were missing and that there didn't seem to be anything for them to have been fastened to in two of the holes, and that the wheel was sitting decidedly crooked with the two side by side remaining lug nuts apparently barely keeping it on the vehicle, I became more than a little scared.
Not that there was any danger to me or to anyone else at that point, but the fact of the matter is that had I NOT pulled over when I did that wheel could have come totally off the vehicle and caused an accident that WOULD have been dangerous at the least and possibly fatal to myself and/or anyone else in the vicinity.
It wasn't until I came to the conclusion that I was not going to try to take that vehicle anywhere that I realized that my phone was at home.
Who would think a quick trip for materials would require a telephone? Did I not just SAY I have only a modicum of common sense?
Dozens of vehicles sped past, a few drivers glancing my way.
It reminded me of another time I had trouble, down along I-25 between Pueblo and the Springs, but that's a story for another time. That day angels abounded; today it seemed hopeless until a kind gentleman drove past, turned around, and came back to let me use his cell phone. Bless him forever.
Calling my sister Mary, because I know her number and that's just what I generally DO when I'm in trouble, I remembered that I wasn't using my own phone. Normally that wouldn't be an issue, but Mary is choosy about what calls she will respond to. If she doesn't recognize the number she isn't likely to pick up. So I left her a message with pertinent information, then called my mom to ask her to call Mary (as she has a number Mary knows and would answer a call from) but Mom said that she'd just come herself, which she did.
Since the place where I had gotten that wheel put on was business partners with a similar place nearby the site of my stranding, we went to the nearby one and had the manager call the other.
After a futile struggle to make a land line curly telephone cord (and likewise my arm and neck) stretch beyond capability to reach a point where communication might be possible, the gal behind the counter finally deduced that it might reach across the side counter and I found myself speaking to the very person who had installed said wheel. As he was out on a service call I have no idea what on earth they thought he was going to be able to do about it, but that's who they put me through to. I explained as best I could, not that it did any good.
He, poor guy, had no way of helping me. He said that he'd snugged the lug nuts on good and had not over-tightened them when he put the wheel on. He wanted to know if I knew of anyone who might have loosened the lug nuts, tampered with them.
Well geez. Not that I know of. Anyone who got that mad at me would probably just up and shoot me, not sabotage my vehicle in such a way that people besides me might get hurt.
Then he mentioned that he thought maybe the lug nuts and/or posts or whatever they're called, the threaded pegs that the lug nuts screw onto, had been faulty as he'd noticed a lot of rust when he changed out the wheel.
Mom dropped me off at the local place where I'd had the wheel changed out, where I ran into the guy who had changed them for me and we spoke for a bit. Another guy was going to check it out, so I left it at that and walked the two blocks on home and let Duke in as I had left him out in his yard since I was only going to be gone for a very little while.
Then Mary showed up at my house, having gotten my message and gone in search of me before finally calling our mother who told her where I was.
She had stopped and examined the wheel with Brian her husband consulting via phone.
While she was still here, the guy who had gone to check on it called. He said he was picking up (or ordering if they weren't in stock) parts at the parts place and that they would fix the wheel for me. Good.
THEN he wanted to know if I was going to come get it and drive it home. Ummm ... NO. Three sequential lug nuts missing, two of whose pegs (or whatever you call them) had snapped off, and the remaining two barely holding the wheel on? Nope. Not this woman. Not EVEN gonna go try to drive any such of a thing anywhere. Not in this lifetime. Not no how not no way. IF I were fool enough to make the attempt, which I am NOT, I would drive it very slowly in the ditch so as not to put anyone else at risk. This I told him although not in so many words except the ditch part. He kind of half laughed and asked if tomorrow would be okay for them to take care of it. To that I said yes.
I will say this for him: he didn't quibble about putting it back together properly for me. At least I'm assuming that's what he means to do. If I get a bill of any kind, I'll sic my sister and brother-in-law on him.
And I called (at my mom's suggestion) the Sheriff's department to tell them that's my truck sitting there - yes it's safely out of any traffic zone - and generally why and that they were going to take care of it tomorrow. No I did not make an issue of the roofing stuff in the back as I cannot conceive of any logic that would make anyone even think of stealing such heavy and bulky stuff unless they had a great and immediate need for it. If that's the case and someone needs it badly enough to steal it from a beat up little old truck at the end of someone's driveway at the side of a busy highway, I reckon they can go ahead and have it. Me, I'm going to have a hard enough time moving it ONCE to where I need it to be - really, am I wanting to move it any more than absolutely necesary? Not.
I don't know what made it happen.
At this point it doesn't really matter what made it happen. It's not like I was out four-wheeling or mudding about in the fields (not that I would anyway, but the fields are full of crops right now so NOBODY better be out goofing off in them). I drove on pavement a bit around town and to and from work and that was IT. Nothing that ought to have put anything out of whack. And I seriously doubt that anyone would have tampered with the lug nuts on a vehicle parked on Main Street Small Town USA, or in the parking lot at work either. If anyone really does hate me enough to try to kill me I should hope they'd be more straightforward about it and not put others at risk in the process.
I was so traumatized that I walked the half block to the store and bought icecream. And chocolate syrup. And Smucker's caramel. And Smucker's butterscotch. And frozen strawberries. And A&W rootbeer so I could make myself a rootbeer float if my stomach had any room left in it after eating as much icecream and toppings as I wanted. And potato chips. I do not even recall the last time I bought icecream, let alone the rest of the fixings.
Now that I have under my belt (manner of speech - actually I'm wearing bib overalls and a pink tee-shirt) about two cups of the concoction I created out of all of the above, the shock and trauma is beginning to wear off.
Seeing Mary helped, I have to admit. And talking to my Twin Cities daughter Tess.
Still, there's a residual shuddering horror at the thought of how today COULD have developed. Just because it DIDN'T happen doesn't quite negate the thoughts and emotions associated with the fact that things may just as easily have been not just an emotional trauma treatable with icecream but a tragedy for my family and possibly other families as well.
Hells bells.
I wonder if I can make room for that rootbeer float?
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