I was trying really hard to get this written and up before 7 tonight, but my phone was refusing to work for me. So I had to wait until I got home. Anyway, here's my harrowing story.
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On Thursday, December 1st, around 9 PM, I started the trek toward San Marcos. For the past few months, I've been having some serious problems with my front passenger tire. Before I saw Jonathan for our anniversary I had the tire looked at and it turned out there was a screw in it. That explained why it kept going low on me. So we had it patched, had my ties aired up, and I left. Well, when I got back home, we noticed that my tire just kept getting low again. Mom bought a can of fix-a-flat and it's been fine since, not even losing much air over the last two weeks.
Well besides the tire continuing to get low, my car has been shaking pretty bad, as well as pulling to the right really hard. Jonathan wasn't comfortable driving it when I was here in November, that's how bad the pulling was. But the shaking and wobbling was what was really getting to me. I couldn't go a hair past 70 MPH without the car feeling like it was going to fall apart. Mom and I figured a new tire and a possible realignment would fix these things. But we were needing to wait until we had the money for those things.
Starting early this week, I noticed my front driver tire was starting to get low, but I ignored it. Mom told me before I left for classes Thursday afternoon (where I would start my trip from) that I needed to get it aired up. I stopped by QT (which have free air by the way) and put some air in my tire, and I also checked my left one. Everything seemed fine.
And it was. Just the usual amount of shaking and wobbling and uncomfortable grinding.
Then it happened.
Right before 11 PM, on the outskirts of north Waco, I felt a tire go out.
If anyone doesn't know, last summer, the summer of 2015, I was driving down to San Marcos to live with Jonathan for the summer. I ended up hitting something and blowing out two tires on my old car. Luckily I was only an hour out of town and my mom and brother were able to come to rescue. Three hours later, I was able to be back on my way.
Well, I was not just an hour away from home, and it was the middle of the night. I immediately burst into hysterics, trying calmly and slowly to pull my car onto the very small shoulder right by an exit. I called my mom and started crying and screaming, in total disbelief that this could be happening to me again. I said I didn't know which tire it was, maybe both. She told me to pull onto the access road.
I made my way down the ramp slowly, constantly screaming the mantra, "How is this happening to me again?" All the while my mom is talking in my ear, trying to calm me down.
Luckily there was an old gas station right off the access road with a paved driveway I could pull into. I was able to calm down a bit once I was off the highway, but I was still freaking out because I had no idea what I was going to do. When I got out of the car, I found that it was the front driver tire that had blown, the one that had just recently shown signs of having a problem.
It was then I remembered I have a spare, under the trunk of my car. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get it down.
Now for the upswing!
That part of I-35 has a lot of construction, so they've had cop cars out there, not sure why, but I'm definitely never questioning it again. I told my mom there was a cop right across from me, sitting with his lights on. She told me to go talk to him.
Thank the heavens above, he was able to come over and help me. He also called for back up, so next thing I knew, two other cops pulled up, unloading jacks and equipment to get the tire off and put the spare on. During all of this, I'm still on the phone with my mom, narrating what's happening and speculating what could've happened. She suggested I ran over something or that I over filled the tire with air.
The three officers didn't talk to me much, besides asking questions and making sure I was watching to see how to get the spare down. But I didn't mind because I had my mom. But also because it was so much more relaxing for me to hear them bantering and joking than it would've been if they were constantly checking on me. I was able to laugh and enjoy some company, erasing the bad memory and filling it in with an example of good cops.
After the new tire was on, I was told I needed to fill it with air. They also told me it had blown out. I hadn't run over anything, I didn't overfill, the tire had just run its course in life. I shook hands with the original officer and gave my thanks, trying to hold back from hugging him.
While still talking with my mom, I made my way to a gas station where I filled the tire and then started back on my way to the highway.
It wasn't until I was back on the highway that I noticed the difference.
There was no shaking, no wobbling, grinding, or pulling. It was driving like a whole new car. When I exclaimed to my mother what was happening, she questioned if there had been a bump on my old tire. Then I remembered looking at the blown out tire, before it was loaded into my trunk, and feeling what looked to be a sizable raised hump.
More than likely, I had hit a curb during the summer and put a bubble into my tire, which then caused the problems I had been blaming on the passenger tire. This blow out resulted in a fixed car. For the most part. I still need to get new tires, now more than ever.
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That's my crazy, horrible night. I got so very lucky that there were officers nearby who were willing to help me out. I also discovered the problem with my car. While it was a pretty terrible time, so much good came from it. Hopefully I have better car luck in the future.
Thank you to my mom for staying on the phone with me while this all happened.
And thank you to the three police officers from McLennan County who helped me out. You'll never know how grateful I am to you.
Alright folks, that's a wrap. Keep your tires fresh people.
Kaylee
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