Tires and Turds

Maybe this is my passenger seat. I am not ashamed. 

Packed. Finally out of driveway.

It took a little longer than expected, as there were some crucial vehicle updates that needed to be taken care of. Rob is handy with that sort of thing and saved us boatloads of cash by doing the jobs himself. It put us a little behind schedule, but I talk like I have places to be.

It would be ideal to get to Alaska by May so that I can track down a new job before tourist season is in full swing and other transient, twenty-something hobos snatch them up, but it would also be a shame to rush a trip like this.

Not often that I have 3 minor reoccurring bills, no job, and money actually saved up.

We made it 3 miles before we had to turn around and go back to the house. This was both ominous and beneficial. We had to come back for a CB Radio, but Rob also discovered that he left every charger for every piece of chargeable technology he owns.

Into Iowa. Making decent time. Nothing has blown off the roof yet. Storms in the distance.

Suddenly, Rob’s tire looks scary flat. I radio the news and we get off on some empty back road. Our options are to re-do the plug (this tire had been plugged long ago and another plug-and-fill might get us to the next big town) or drive on back to Des Moines and get it plugged professionally. When the new plug seems to be holding air, we opt to carry on. It’s going on 8pm anyway- the chance of a shop being open is slim.

It might seem like common sense to change a trouble tire before heading across a continent, but consideration of finances trumped common sense. That’s the way it is sometimes.

Rob’s car is an all-wheel-drive Subaru. You can’t just change one tire on that type of car: they have to all be exactly the same. You change one, you gotta change them all. My Toyota and I could probably roll halfway to Florida on a donut if I was feeling lucky, but Subarus are more touchy. You can blow the transmission riding an under or over-sized spare.

Rob and I were feeling lucky, so we got on the highway, blew the tire out again in the middle of a thunderstorm, got a police escort to a rest stop, re-plugged the doomed tire, and made it as far as a Super 8 Motel. Stuck.

RAIN! LIGHTNING! SEMIS!

A kind and generous law man.
He followed Rob to the rest stop so a semi didn't
plow him in the dark as he went 35 mph down the expressway. 

Thank god Super 8 accepted dogs. On the subject of dogs, Dodger became a second priority while thunder and lightning rained down on Rob and his flat tire. Perhaps we should have walked him more (...in the thunder and lightning). Instead, we rushed into the hotel room and began thinking about where to fix the tire.

In the mean time, Dodger snuck into the bathroom and took a massive dump on the floor. We should have known, as Dodger always does a victory lap after he craps. At one point he was bounding from bed to bed, incredibly pleased, and we thought oh man! This is so cute!

Rob stepped in it. It smelt really bad. This was the end of day one, but we were not upset.

Misfortune happens, and Dodger had the good sense to drop a load on tile.

Dodger, about a pound lighter and feeling joyous.