Flat Tire in San Francisco - How to Change a Flat Tire.
Last Updated on Tuesday, 09 August 2011 06:36 Written by Roger Monday, 08 August 2011 22:16
A flat tire is a hassle at the best of times. Changing a wheel is a dirty business that can easily result in bruised knuckles and a bruised ego. Worse, if you really make a hash of it, you could be in the hole for hundreds of dollars or even loose a few toes. Where you happen to get your blowout can also add a whole new dimension of stress, as you'll see as you read on.
A few weeks ago I was in the front passenger seat of Jimmy's car. Jimmy had an almost brand new Toyota Camry, and he's my wife's niece's husband. His wife Courtney and my wife Diane were in the back with Courtney and Jimmy's two year old angel, Lucy. Now, I don't know if you know San Francisco, but like most cities there are neighborhoods that you drive to, and neighborhoods that you drive through, as in drive through and don't stop unless you intend to purchase something that you really shouldn't. Well, on an unusually warm afternoon for San Francisco, we happened to be driving through The Tenderloin, or as it's uncharitably called in San Francisco "The Loin", when Jimmy called out "Jesus, Mary and Joseph I think I have a flat tire". He's Irish you see, like me. So Jimmy pulled over sharpish (quickly) and we found ourselves parked on 6th street between Mission and Howard.
Jimmy and I jumped out and sure enough the left front tire was flat. I wasn't phased at all, and looked at it as a simple thing that could be dealt with quickly, and would almost certainly be fun. As it turns out Jimmy had never changed a wheel before, so I immediately took control. "Right" says I "Lets get the spare out, jack this puppy up, and we'll be out of this hole in no time". Jimmy popped the trunk, grabbed the spare and I hauled out the jack. The girls seemed happy enough in the back seat and had rolled down the windows so as to get a better look at our manliness. That's the way I saw it anyway, ignoring the fact that the ignition was switched off and that it was 92 in the shade, and we weren't in the shade.
As I was fiddling around with the jack trying to get the twisty thing not to pinch my fingers, one or two of the locals began to amble over. An audience can be fun, right? Anyway as soon as I worked out my left from right, as far as the jack goes, I got Jimmy to loosen the lug nuts with the tire iron, slung the jack under the door sill and began to crank furiously. I was soon sweating hard, but the jack soon rose up met the underside of Jimmy's new Camry, and with an almost inaudible crack began to raise the car up on it's suspension. I thought Jimmy had looked a little concerned by the cracking sound, but he said nothing so I carried on regardless, and anyway the girls seemed to be doing fine inside the car, and they were surely better off in there than out here with the motley crew that was beginning to form.
As I continued to crank we started to receive advice from some of the members of what was quickly becoming a throng. Normally I would have listened, but what with all the sweat pouring off my head and stinging my eyes, frankly I was not in the mood. At this stage I'm pretty sure I was no longer having fun, and it must have been obvious because my wife, who has never been very mechanical, leaned forward out of the rear window, no doubt to give me a word of encouragement, unbalanced the car and ruined the whole thing. With a loud twanging, crunching sound the car lurched forward, the jack spat out onto the street, and to the sound of a greatly amused crowd and three shrieking occupants, the Toyota bounced to earth with the tire just missing my foot.
At this point Jimmy, always a cooler head than mine, took charge. First he got all the girls out of the back before checking to see what damage had been done to the underside of his lovely new car. Luckily, it was minimal and anyway out of sight out of mind I always say (I certainly would have been out of my mind had it been my car). Then he did something which I found quite extraordinary; he took the manual out of the glove box, looked for the relevant information and read it! Honestly, it never would have crossed my mind.
I have to admit that at this point I took a bit of a back seat, too many cooks and all that. So Jimmy put the jack just where it said in the manual, jacked up the car and put on the spare wheel without a hitch. It must have been a lot easier for him after having watched me doing a dummy run. Anyway we were soon all back in the car with the residents of 6th street fast disappearing in our mirrors like the remnants of a bad dream...
All silliness aside, when the car slipped off the jack, I was lucky not to have seriously injured myself and people I love. If the wheel had already been removed, the car would have landed on the disk causing at least several hundred dollars of damage and the distinct possibility of severe injury. In my haste and bravado I caused damage to my friend's car and was very lucky not to have caused more than some embarrassment. I suppose the moral of this story is, when dealing with thousands of pounds of metal and plastic, DON'T BE A KNOW IT ALL! Take your time, think, read the manual, get everyone to a safe distance and think again before doing something which looks deceptively simple, but is in fact inherently dangerous.
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