Wishful thinking.
Whump, whump, whump, whump! The noise in the cab crescendoed as my front driver's side tire rapidly bled out precious air. Since I was almost at work, I coaxed my limping vehicle to the parking lot and pulled into the first available spot I found. Fortunately, it was at the end of the row, so no one would park next to me.
Of course, lazy me, I had yet to take the tire in to have it patched.
Now there wasn't a choice. I had to fix up my only other tire. "Well," I thought, "if I get this taken care of quickly, I can still get some work done today."
Haha!!! Keep dreaming, Cindy!!
Murphy's Law states that "anything that can go wrong will go wrong." Hence the flat tire.
However, an little known addendum to Murphy's Law, the Krazy Cindy Clause, adds that "anything that should have a simple fix will always become extremely complicated." Never heard of that clause? Well, let me explain.
My friend Sudhir took me to the tire shop where I purchased my truck's set brand new about a year and a half ago. They told me to come back later in the afternoon, and it would be repaired. We returned, picked up the tire, and I paid for the inexpensive repair.
Sudhir had never changed a flat before, and I only had the pathetic jack and tire iron that came with my truck. Those kits aren't particularly exceptional. I contacted a friend who told me he had a REAL jack and had changed many tires himself. Basically, he was pretty well qualified for a job with NASCAR.
My friend Matt arrived promptly as we were getting back from picking up the tire. He pulled up, jacked up the truck, and expertly removed the cap and lug nuts. So far so good. Matt grasped the wheel firmly and pulled hard.
The tire didn't budge.
Matt exerted more force. Still nothing.
Out came the hammer. Tap, tap, tap all around the rim to try to loosen the wheel's grip on the axel. Another attempt with bare hands to yank the tire free.
Not even a wobble. The tire was fixed fast.
"Do you have any WD-40?" Matt asked. Well, I did at home, but that didn't help any. I tried to think what might be on hand in the truck. "We can try windshield washer fluid," he said.
After dousing the bolts and rim in washer fluid, Matt and Sudhir attempted again to pull off the tire.
A reluctant bovine could've taken lessons from that stubborn tire.
"There might be something in the lab," I told Matt. I tried to think of something I might use at work that could loosen the tire. Maybe the grease for the tissue homogenizer? Sudhir and I drove around to the back of the building and parted ways, each going to search in our respective labs.
Sudhir hit the jackpot with a gallon size container of WD-40 as well as a small spray container. Back to where we had abandoned Matt to wrestle with that damn tire.
We generously applied WD-40 all over the bolts and rim of the tire, anywhere it remained attached to the truck axle. After allowing some soaking time, Matt and Sudhir again tackled the recalcitrant wheel.
Nada.
More tapping with the hammer, liberal spraying of WD-40, and heavily engaged muscle power.
The tire laughed and remained glued to the axle.
Time for the big guns. We wrapped a cloth tow rope around the spokes of the wheel and attached it to the hitch ball of Matt's little Ranger. He slowly accelerated, applying pressure gradually and consistently along the length of the rope.
The jack wobbled and the truck threatened to slide right off its tentative hold. Matt halted his efforts and we regrouped to consider the problem. Matt called his mechanic friend for suggestions.
The solution, said Mr. Mechanic to Matt, was a BFH. Big Fucking Hammer.
As we did not have a BFH with us, just the standard sized one Matt brought, Matt and Sudhir took turns whacking the back of the wheel with our only weapon. After several forceful blows, the tire would be rotated several degrees, and the pounding would resume. Debris and heavy crud loosened and fell from around the rim.
And then... success!! The tire budged a small fraction!
With renewed vigor, Matt and Sudhir continued their assault on my truck's obstinate wheel. Eventually, with much protest on the part of the tire, it parted company with my truck's front axle.
I think all in all it "only" took about an hour and a half to change out the flat tire. So much for Matt's future NASCAR career.
The end result was a freshly patched tire on the truck's axle and a newly destroyed flat in the truck's bed.
Matt and Sudhir, I really appreciated all of your help. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I don't need it again anytime soon.
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