The clock read 7:00 AM... an amazingly early and prompt start to the trip.
Surely a good sign of things to come.
The plan was to drive straight through to Tahoe, meeting up with Andooke somewhere along the way. Being that their departure was from Prescott, they'd have a few hours head start, so coordinating the connection was going to require some the of best co-driver to co-driver texting skills the world had ever seen. Luckily, Micki and Brooke had been practicing for months with smart phone communication techniques and there was little worry we'd be able to join before the roads got too small and confusing.
The route we chose to take was I-10 across the boring yet hot deserts of AZ and then CA. We both started to notice how many shredded bits of tires there were along the side of the road. We assumed the sheer brutality of summer sun on black asphalt was just to much for old rubber to stand. It was a good feeling to know that the HiHy was sporting almost new treads and the trailer had less than 5,000 miles on it's shoes.
Zipping along, the traffic was light and we were making great time. The boredom of the road was no match for the excitement of the journey ahead. A new state with new trails and wonderful places to explore. We had our maps, GPS files and tips from friends in regards to secret parking, camping and even the location of a nudist beach or two. We were set!
During a rare moment in the fast lane, I noticed in the rear view mirror that the plastic skylight on the lid of the trailer seemed to be vibrating pretty badly. It was apparent that there was a breeze swaying the roadside brush and I dismissed it as crosswind induced turbulence. As I was pondering how long a plastic cover might last and how hard it might be to replace when it failed... I felt the trailer drop to the passenger side and lurch the steering wheel in my hands.
BLOWOUT....
Checking for traffic to my right, I gradually allowed the vehicle to slow down. There was a massive shudder that could be felt through the hitch and the side view mirror revealed bits and pieces of trailer rapidly departing their original locations. The viscous flapping steel belted rubber was tearing everything apart and by the time I was able to pull over we had traveled enough distance to have lost anything worth salvaging to the traffic that followed behind us. I moved way over to the side and stepped out into the 109 degree day, leaving the quiet comfort of the climate controlled cabin to enter the roaring diesel soaked air of the highway.
First assessment did not look good. The wheel well was gone. Much of the internal flooring had been chewed to a ragged edge and the gaping hole left behind gave a view of the normally concealed internal workings of our traveling home. Both the cook-top and heater gas lines had been twisted beyond safe use and four or five electrical wires had been torn from their connections and had somehow wrapped themselves around the axle. The tire was basically destroyed and the smoldering remains left exposed woven steel waiting to cut or burn into anything that was foolish enough to get to close.
Feeling a sense of doom, I stood up only to notice a crossover was located just at our stopping place... with a policeman sitting there! Amazing! Such luck. I wasn't crazy enough to try and cross over two lanes of flying traffic to talk to him, but felt pretty satisfied that he'd see us and probably offer some sort of assistance. I could see an exit ramp about a mile down the road, so figured maybe he'd use his lights to keep us safe on the shoulder until we reached somewhere out of harms way to repair the damage. I went back to the car to point out our good fortune to Micki but she was already aware. For such bad luck with the tire, it was pretty amazing to have a loyal officer of the state just waiting when we needed him.
Ten minutes go by... the guy doesn't even roll down his window.
I will not spout about my personal interaction with the highway patrol during my lifetime. I will not mention the time I got pulled over in the middle of nowhere for a tint violation, or the time I got stopped at 3:00 AM for literally one mile per hour over the limit. No, I will not go there. Instead I'll just let this officer's actions speak for themselves, and solidify my own opinions as to their work ethic and true purpose in life.
I got back in the HiHy and crawled down the shoulder. That evil rumble strip reminding us the entire way of how slow we were going... and how far we had to get.
Finally at the exit, we made reasonably short work of the tire swap. Back on the road now, Micki made tapped into the futuristic abilities of her wonderful Blackberry and tried to find a replacement tire within the next few major towns. No luck. No luck what so ever. Evidently, the trailer has a tire that was produced only one time with no expectation of ever needing to be replaced by any human being on this planet Earth. We had well over 1,000 miles left of driving on this trip and no spare to do it with. Finally, we got "close enough" and located an under rated car tire of similar proportions that would work in a pinch. I hit a near by Home Depot for some wiring and various repair supplies while it was being mounted.
Back on the road, I slowed a bit and tried to be more conservative with bumps and gaps in the pavement. We pulled into a gas station at Kramer Junction and believe it or not Andooke were just getting done putting gas in the tank. Almost without effort, we had grouped up and were ready to drive the final leg together to Tahoe. I stepped inside for a Subway sandwich and Andooke joined me as well. I had to restrain myself from perusing the outdoor market and picking up a Mexican poncho for only fifteen dolleros. Was a hard deal to pass by. I mean, the scratchy wool poncho is the very definition of SS 29'r adventure wear. I was sure I'd regret this frugal decision for months to come.
With Andooke now in convoy, I figured I might as well make use of the extra set of eyes to access our remaining trailer tire. At first, the texting back and forth raised no alarm. But then something was noticed, something troubling. Our second "new" trailer tire was now hopping madly as well. Showing a deformity which would seem to indicate yet another separated belt. We pulled over once for closer inspection but with no real option but a substandard car tire of a spare... we pushed on.
It was no good though, and soon the decision was made to swap out the bad trailer tire for our reasonably close car tire. With Andy and I on the jack, we made the swap in record time. Probably fast enough to make even the most die hard Nascar enthusiast shed a small tear. Hell, Andy even had time to dig a damaged stop sign out of the dirt and place it in their car for future garage display after the trip was over. Rolling once more the trailer was finally pulling vibration free. The skylight cover was solid and it seemed like the worst was over. A few more calls and virtual visits were made to upcoming towns to try and find another spare trailer tire but no luck. Time and time again we were told the tire simply did not exist.
An enigma wrapped in a 12R by 145 riddle.
A decision was made to find food. So we searched. Town after town went by. Temps dropped and a shivering Brooke bundled up as we grabbed some gas and watered the dog. I had seen a burger/ taco/ chicken/ massage place a few blocks back that might have been open, but the idea of a massage table and fried chicken didn't blend well with anyones appetite. We kept driving but with no luck. At our turn, we saw distant neon lights in the fading daylight. The guess was a casino just over the border in Nevada and we decided to make one final detour in hopes of appeasing our empty bellies with some sort of all you can eat canned shrimp buffet.
No luck, was just a hotel. The Mexican place just up the street teased passers by with a darkened patio and the usual burrito specials laying dormant inside. I had no way of telling at this point of course, but this lack of tortilla wrapped sustenance would be a pattern for this entire trip. We made the best of our situation however and Andooke broke out their portable table for a little meal of our own making in the empty parking lot. It was getting late so after some sandwiches we back tracked a bit to the final turn to Tahoe.
Unbenownst to us, one of the windiest stretches of asphalt now awaited. It was a "scenic drive" but in the darkness became a series of twists and turns only designed to slow progress and test full stomachs. Micki was up well past her bedtime and despite her best efforts was occasionally drifting off with open map in her lap. I had the GPS on with preprogrammed directions on the screen. Things were making sense, Tahoe was finally on the road signage and with one traffic light we were honing in on the recommended camping area.
50 feet.... 40 feet.... 30 feet... 20 feet.... 10 feet... nothing but front lawn.
No turn. No road. No camping. Nothing but darkness and maps that had no where enough detail to figure out what had gone wrong. Instead we began to make a series of exploratory U-turns with the trailer behind us. Missing boulders and sandy berms by inches. Frustration was mounting. Andooke even found a DPS officer to speak to about possible directions to this mysteriously vanished dirt road. No luck. With the smart phones in full effect, one last chance was spotted. It was vague, and could end up being a road or a canal or a river or possibly even a cliff that would send us to our graves as we shot over the edge. But... at least we could lay down, so we gave the new route a shot.
What we ended up on was a road so heavily marked for"no camping" that it was hard to see the trees beyond. It didn't matter though, as our options for rest had all evaporated. We found a cozy little pull off and quickly set up the trailer. The beds felt extra soft but I couldn't fully relax. Most of the night I was expecting that DPS officer to pull up with spotlight blaring. We did however make it through until dawn... which Mousse was more than happy to inform us about.
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