<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sing the following to the tune of <\/span>My Way <\/span><\/i>(with apologies to Old Blue Eyes):\u00a0 <\/span>Flat Tires, I\u2019ve had a few, everywhere from Melstrand to Timbuktu . . .<\/span><\/i> Okay, I have had more than a few and I have never been to Timbuktu, but I have had a flat in Melstrand.\u00a0 The last time the little warning light and chime went off on our last car (leaky valve stem), I dropped it at Blake\u2019s Service and wandered across River Street for a cup of coffee while it was being fixed.\u00a0 Sitting there pondering exactly how many flat tires I have had over the years, the only answer I could come up with was \u2018too many\u2019.\u00a0 Unlike gassing up or changing the oil, getting a flat tire seems to be one of those events that sticks with you, particularly if there were unusual circumstances involved.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My first flat tire is memorable for a couple of reasons.\u00a0 I was all of sixteen and less than a year into my, \u201cHey, can I borrow the car?\u201d phase.\u00a0 The car in question was my mom\u2019s Chevy Caprice (dubbed the \u2018whale car\u2019 or \u2018tank\u2019 due to its enormous size and 350 engine).\u00a0 One morning, after an evening of cruising with my buddies Mitch and Jim, dad woke me up with my marching orders:\u00a0 \u201cYour mother\u2019s car has a flat tire.\u00a0 Put on the spare and take it to the tire shop and get it fixed.\u201d\u00a0 Having never even jacked up a car on my own before, I got a few pointers, did the switch to the spare, and headed off to a muffler\/tire shop in south Marquette.\u00a0 \u201cYou want me to take off the spare and put this one back on?\u201d the tire guy inquired before adding, \u201cWhere the heck did you drive over a frog spear?\u201d\u00a0 I looked a little baffled so he continued, \u201cYou know, one of those three pronged, barbed spears people use when they go frogging?\u201d\u00a0 He held up what was left of it and added, \u201cI have taken a lot of sharp things out of tires before, but this was a first.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It was summer and dad\u2019s License and Regulation office (not the Driver\u2019s License Bureau) was still located in Harvey a couple of miles south of the tire shop, so I drove out to tell him the good news.\u00a0 Knowing he would ask the same question, I figured out we had visited Mitch\u2019s sister the night before.\u00a0 She lived on a dead-end street just north of Wright Street within a stones throw of the Dead River Basin.\u00a0 A good chunk of this area was ringed with cattail and rush marsh – perfect \u2018frogging territory\u2019 so this was the best bet.\u00a0 Dad said a frog spear through the tire was also a first for him, but he took it well (he also let me pay for the repair).<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I managed to drive my brother\u2019s Camaro (he was in the Army at the time), my mother\u2019s tank, and my first car (a Chevy Bel Aire) over some pretty brutal terrain the three summers I worked at the Huron Mountain Club without another flat.\u00a0 At the beginning of my Junior year at NMU, dad found a used S-10 Chevy pickup in Iron Mountain and made me a deal.\u00a0 If I sold the oil burning Bel Aire, he would front me the money for the pick up.\u00a0 That way, when I was using his truck with a topper to haul band gear, he would have my truck to use hauling wood and such.\u00a0 I loved the idea of having my own truck, but had no way to foresee the game of \u2018tire roulette\u2019 that was about to begin.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Without a topper on the back, the S-10 was very light so I took to keeping two washtubs of sand in the back for traction in the winter.\u00a0 I ran snow tires for the back wheels year round because we did a lot of backcountry touring on some sketchy roads.\u00a0 I had to be a little careful because with an empty box and no topper, backing up in any kind of sandy soil resulted in the back wheels chattering and jumping as they tried to dig in.\u00a0 My first flat with the S-10 was memorable because it happened on a horrible stretch of County Road 550 on a crystal clear, fridge minus 10 degree night in February.\u00a0 I was on the way to the Crossroads Bar to have the owner sign the contract for our next weekend band job when my left rear wheel lost the will to live.\u00a0 I pulled over as far as I could and managed to get the jack in place before the cold sucked the life out of my flashlight.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I was contemplating walking the last two miles to the bar to summon help when a good samaritan in a bigger truck pulled up and parked behind me.\u00a0 He left his vehicle hanging a good five feet farther out than mine so his headlights brightened my job.\u00a0 It also lessened the prospects of me getting picked off by a passing car while wrestling with the tire.\u00a0 We took turns removing the lug nuts because no matter how thick my military issue gloves and liners were, my hands were freezing.\u00a0 When we finished, I offered to buy the samaritan a beer at the Crossroads, but he said, \u201cNah, that\u2019s okay – you would have done the same for me.\u201d\u00a0 He drove off and I continued to the Crossroads where I ordered, not a beer, but a nice hot cup of coffee.\u00a0 I met our bass player Lee there and when he complained that I was late, I grabbed his hand with my freezing fingers.\u00a0 ‘`Did you have car trouble?\u201d he asked, after which I told him the tire tale.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Examining the tire the next morning revealed it had a rip in the sidewall.\u00a0 Knowing there was no repairing it, I made an appointment to get two new tires.\u00a0 The shop had to order what I wanted so I tossed my extra spare in the box to make sure I didn\u2019t get stranded in the meantime.\u00a0 A month later, I drove the bass player from band rehearsal to the \u2018new\u2019 Marquette Mall where his wife worked at a grocery store.\u00a0 It was late evening and the parking lot was mostly deserted as we drove from one end to the other.\u00a0 We were yakking about something when we drove over the curbed medium that separated the \u2018IN and OUT\u2019 lanes in the\u00a0 middle of the vast parking lot.\u00a0 True, they were snow covered, but it was still a bone headed rookie driver move.\u00a0 When Lee got out of the truck, he said, \u201cHey man, I hear hissing – I think you’re getting a flat!\u201d\u00a0 Great!\u00a0 After my last winter tire change, I was not anxious to start another cold weather tire swap.\u00a0 Being less than two miles from home, I proceeded with deliberate haste and managed to get home with air to spare.\u00a0 I may have not been the only person to have an encounter with these curbed lane markers as they were removed a couple of years later.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In the morning, it was apparent the front wheels had survived hopping the curb but the right rear snow tire had not.\u00a0 After jacking up the truck and removing the flat, I tossed it into the trunk of the \u2018whale car\u2019 and took it to the shop instead of putting on the spare.\u00a0 With a block under the back axle, it made sense to not have to jack it up twice – it wasn\u2019t going anywhere.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The tire jockey rolled the repaired tire and wheel into the lobby and asked, \u201cWhat the heck did you hit?\u201d\u00a0 I told him the story and he nodded knowingly.\u00a0 He continued. \u201cWell, that explains it.\u00a0 The inside of the rim was bent.\u00a0 I was able to pound it back into shape and it holds air.\u00a0 If you have a spare rim, I would swap it out in case this one is cracked.\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t wait too long.\u201d\u00a0 Luck was on my side for a change, timing wise.\u00a0 A couple of weeks later, I had the new snow tires mounted on my two good rims, kept my second spare on board, and tossed the damaged one in the garbage just in case it was cracked.\u00a0 Surely my tire woes were now behind me.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Using dad\u2019s truck for band jobs, I wasn\u2019t putting a lot of miles on my truck.\u00a0 Our guitar player mustered out of the Air Force later that spring.\u00a0 The band was done, but I had a new summer job at NMU\u2019s Field Station just east of\u00a0 Munising and south of Picture Rocks National Lakeshore.\u00a0 I was able to have my truck out there for the summer (more backwoods adventures), but there wasn\u2019t enough free time to rack up a lot of miles.\u00a0 That fall, there were seven weekends when I had to drive out to the Field Station and open it up for retreats held by various departments from the university.\u00a0 On one of the weekends, another buddy decided to come along for the ride.\u00a0 Things were fine until we neared Melstrand.\u00a0 I was telling Wayne about the turn off from the Park Road H-58 we would be making onto the gravel road leading south to the Field Station when there was a loud \u2018pop\u2019 from the back right followed by a familiar \u2018flop flop\u2019 sound.\u00a0 We pulled over to\u00a0 discover a hole half way between the treads and the wheel rim.\u00a0 It was bigger than a silver dollar.\u00a0 I took out my vehicle logbook and checked the mileage – it was less than 2,000 miles since this set of tires were installed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After limping home using my trusty (and by now well used) spare, I showed my father the damaged tire.\u00a0 He said, \u201cThat should be covered under warranty.\u201d\u00a0 When the dealer looked at it, he didn\u2019t say much.\u00a0 After he swapped the damaged tire out for a new one, he presented me with a bill for $25.\u00a0 This was half the price of a new tire, but being new to this warranty game, who was I to question it?\u00a0 Dad, on the other hand, could not believe the charge and, without mentioning it ahead of time, he stopped at the shop on the way home from work and asked for an explanation.\u00a0 The dealer informed my father he had to charge for the replacement because, \u201cI don\u2019t know how it was damaged.\u00a0 You know how young guys are – they beat up their vehicles doing stupid stuff.\u201d\u00a0 When it was pointed out there is no rational way to explain any \u2018stupid kid stuff\u2019 that would blow out a chunk of sidewall on a tire with such low mileage while driving on a paved road, the guy pulled out a ten spot to mollify dad.\u00a0 I won\u2019t besmirch the tire brand because they were good tires, but the dealer never saw anyone from my family again.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With brand new rear tires, it seemed that my tire woes were again behind me.\u00a0 I was still driving my S-10 when I arrived in Ontonagon in 1975 but then the front tires started taking turns going flat.\u00a0 The third time the school auto shop had to patch one of them (yes, we had a fully functioning auto shop as part of our vocational offerings then), I resolved to upgrade.\u00a0 I went to the Michelin dealer and told him I wanted the best steel belted radial tires he had put on the front.\u00a0 At first he refused, saying, \u201cYou should not run with normal tires on the rear and radials on the front.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cLook,\u201d\u00a0 I said, \u201cI run on snow tires because I am off road a lot.\u00a0 I know all about the handling concerns with mixed tires, but I am not driving my truck like some high performance race car.\u00a0 You can write it on the bill that you warmed me, but this is what I want.\u201d\u00a0 He agreed but did not seem convinced I knew what I was doing.\u00a0 It would be another ten years before I sold my trusty S-10, but I am happy to report I never had another flat after I twisted the dealer\u2019s arm to sell me top of the line front tires for my old beater truck.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Before our kids went to college, we picked up a used Mercury Sable they both drove during the combined seven years they attended NMU.\u00a0 The first year our daughter had the car in Marquette, she called and said, \u201cGee, we had a little wet snow and the car isn\u2019t handling well at all.\u201d\u00a0 We were on the way to visit that weekend so I told her to park it and I would take a look.\u00a0 Just as she described, a spin around the block had me slipping and sliding all over the place.\u00a0 I ran over to our friend Dan\u2019s fabricating shop and asked him to take it for a spin.\u00a0 Dan is a car hound so after a quick trip down the street and back, he pulled it into his shop and said, \u201cYep, feels like a tire issue.\u201d\u00a0 We took a good look at the \u2018all season radials\u2019 (as described on the window sticker when we bought the used car) turned out to be \u2018touring tires\u2019.\u00a0 Dan said, \u201cTouring in this case means these were intended for travel, like freeways, not necessarily snow.\u00a0 Get yourself a good set of all season radials and that should take care of it.\u201d\u00a0 Two hours later, the car had new tires and behaved like a true Yooper vehicle should in winter.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0During our married life, my wife and I have always opted for the best tires we could find.\u00a0 With front wheel drive station wagons, we were fine with radial tires year-round.\u00a0 When they stopped making the wagons we drove for twenty years, we got into smaller sedans.\u00a0 The all season radials were fine, up until they weren\u2019t.\u00a0 Unfortunately, it was my wife who found out it was time to upgrade to actual snow tires for our smaller, lighter sedan.\u00a0 I was returning from a late fall visit to the WOAS-FM West Coast Bureau.\u00a0 My plane ended up circling the Houghton County Airport several times while they plowed the runway so I knew the driving was not going to be great.\u00a0 In times like these, I really wish I was wrong.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From Twin Lakes to South Range, my wife found herself driving through a hellish mix of heavy wet snow and sleet.\u00a0 A kindly person ahead of her in a truck would use their turn signals to let her know when the road would bend left or right.\u00a0 She was a little shaken when she arrived at the gas station in South Range but a little relieved that it was just raining there.\u00a0 Unfortunately, as she climbed the hill through Hancock, the heavy wet snow returned and she bogged down half way up the hill.\u00a0 Cell phone coverage at the airport terminal was not great then but if I stood over by the car rental area, I was able to talk to her as she described her predicament:\u00a0 she was pulled over on a wider section of road and could not go any farther.\u00a0 I was able to get a hold of a wrecker service in Hancock and (happily) he said he had just gotten back from one job (he had about 40 that night) and was just a few blocks away from where she was stuck.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The nice wrecker driver towed her all the way to the top of Quincy Hill and gave her the sage advice she already knew:\u00a0 \u201cTell you husband it is time to get \u2018Finnish Four Wheel drive\u2019 (aka: snow tires) for your car – it is too light to run on radials in this kind of snow.\u201d\u00a0 When he called me back at the airport, he told me she was on her way.\u00a0 He also repeated what he had told her about needing actual snow tires and I thanked him profusely for getting her out of trouble.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We had not bought actual snow tires since I still had my S-10 many years ago but lighter cars meant it was time to go in a different direction.\u00a0 I don\u2019t even mind that my wife reminds me she had suggested snow tires long before she had her hellish drive.\u00a0 I had resisted them at first, but no longer.\u00a0 Just like clockwork, we swapped out the summer tires for snow tires in November and vice-versa in April.\u00a0 Now that we have upgraded to a heavier Jeep, we are back to all season radials.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0There is one other musical angle I need to mention.\u00a0 The band Pure Prairie League used to perform a great song called <\/span>I\u2019ll Fix Your Flat Tire, Merle.\u00a0 <\/span><\/i>The chorus goes, <\/span>I\u2019ll fix your flat tire, Merle \/ Don\u2019t ya get your sweet country pickin\u2019 fingers all covered with erl \/ Cause you\u2019re a honky, I know, but Merle, you got soul \/ And I\u2019ll fix your flat tire Merle.\u00a0 <\/span><\/i>PPL wrote it as a kind of tongue-in-cheek homage to \u2018<\/span>the greatest country singer alive<\/span><\/i>\u2019 (Merle Haggard). \u00a0 I will point out we started playing it in the Easy Money Band about the time I finally put my Chevy S-10 tire woes behind me.\u00a0 Every time I sang it, it was my little tip of the hat to me being tired of messing with tires.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Top Piece Video:\u00a0 Speaking of Pure Prairie League circa 1986 – live in Cincinnati!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sing the following to the tune of My Way (with apologies to Old Blue Eyes):\u00a0 Flat Tires, I\u2019ve had a few, everywhere from Melstrand to Timbuktu . . . Okay, I have had more than a few and I have never been to Timbuktu, but I have had a flat in Melstrand.\u00a0 The last […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,11,8,12,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2842","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bands-musicians","category-education","category-from-the-vaults","category-humor","category-woas"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2842","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2842"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2842\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2845,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2842\/revisions\/2845"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2842"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2842"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.woas-fm.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2842"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}