Saturday, December 21, 2002
 

Okay. Thursday, I drove to run an errand on 21st because it had pouring tremendously all day (and pedestrians get splashed up to the shoulder by SUVs-- have I mentioned that I detest SUVs?). I was the first car in line (as in those little mini-lines of cars that form when you're driving on a road with lots of traffic lights). I came up to the pedestrian bridge they've been working on, which has entailed tearing up a lot of pavement. So I'm driving along, well under the 35 mph speed limit because of the tremendous amount of water on the road. Then I hit something, hard. Whatever it was, I never saw it. I walked back to campus later, and, in so doing, paused and tried to figure out what I'd hit, Whatever it was, it was still so much under water that it was invisible; my best guess is that one of the holes they'd filled in had washed out, forming a jagged-edge ditch. I stood for awhile and watched as the first car in every line hit whatever it was and bounced.

So my best guess is that I weakened the front right tire Thursday when I hit the ditch (or whatever it was).

I left here good and early Friday morning, planning to beat the worst of the traffic (I feared it would be bad late, as it's the Friday before Christmas). I made excellent time for the first three hours, and traffic wasn't bad at all until I hit the next big city. We were going through this little area of interstate coming out an area I hate; the interstate narrows to two lanes, and there are close barriers on either side. Traffic was literally bumper-to-bumper going through there, and both lanes were really tight. We weren't going fast, but I wasn't watching anything but the cars in front of me and thus didn't see the rough area of pavement ahead. I hit it hard, though I couldn't have missed it anyway because of the tight traffic (it was impossible to swerve left); I certainly didn't hit it any harder than, say, the car in front of me. I thought to myself "boy, bet that didn't do the tire any good" and made a mental note to check it when I stopped for lunch. The interstate widened into either two or three lanes, and that's when the noise started. It got very loud very quickly, and steering got difficult. The next exit was less than a mile away. Then there was a tremendously loud popping noise; steering kind of falls apart; I look in the rearview mirror, and there are pieces of tire flying out behind me, amid clouds of smoke. Everything that happened next happened quickly, and I was on autopilot myself and don't remember it. I couldn't steer or stop, but ABS kicked in. I was already headed off the road, like it or not, and I couldn't stop until the ABS brought me to a halt. I was between either three or four lanes of interstate (where 70 means you're in the slow lane) on my left and two lanes of an interstate merging in (full speed ahead; it wasn't an onramp) on my right. I have never been so terrified. My car was shaking as transfer trucks went by on both sides, and I had come to a rest in a place where I couldn't get out of the car because I was so close to traffic.

I called Ford roadside assistance; the woman asked me first if I was in a safe place, and I told her where I was, whereupon she told me to call 911. So I did, and DOT got out there quickly to put the spare on. The guy said the force of the skidding had torn a brake wire out, which is why ABS activated (and worked beautifully).

I drove the 50 mph the spare necessitated to the next exit. The people of Taco Bell were most kind and directed me two exits up, to a place where I could get a new tire (since there was no way I was getting from from here to home on a temporary tire, going 50 mph, through the mountains). I ate something and stayed at Taco Bell until I had quit shaking so hard.

Then I drove to more exits to the place the people had sent me. It was an obscure little place up under a water tower. I was the only female in about a 10 mile radius, apparently (though the owner's wife / bookeeper did emerge later). Richard, who I had been told to ask for, changed the tire. He didn't have one that exactly matched my current tire, but it was fine nonetheless, and I wasn't about to complain. However, he told me that the wheel itself (that part attached to the car) was, and I quote, "rurnt pretty good" [translation: completely ruined]; when I was out of control, I was skidding on metal. Fortunately, the tire sealed on, and he assured me that he was "pretty sure" I was safe to get home.

I also got a good look at the orginal tire then. It was metal with a few shreds of rubber attached to it, completely gone. "Done rurnt," in the words of Richard.

In the meantime, I had called home in a panic. My mother met me and followed me home, for which I was grateful, given that my best assurance for getting home in one piece was "pretty sure."

Needless to say, my car spent today at the Ford dealership. The new parts should be here Friday. The drive back had better be better than the drive here.

Elvisette philosophized at 5:26 PM