On Jul 15, 7:12*pm, Ken Fortenberry
wrote:
I had a flat tire on the old fishing wagon just north of
Woodruff, Wisconsin on Hwy. 51. I pulled out the spare and
started to change the tire but soon figured out I wasn't
going to get the lug nuts off using the sorry little tool
that comes with the 1988 Volvo 240 wagon.

So I pull the AAA card out of the wallet, grab my phone,
put the wallet on the top of the car and proceed to wind
my way through AAA phone labyrinth hell. About that time
a good samaritan shows up with a T wrench and says he can
get the lug nuts off. I hang up on AAA, proceed to change
the tire and go on my merry way.

I pull into Bergland, Michigan about a quarter to six my
time, quarter to seven locally, and decide to fill up with
gas before I drive the last few miles up 64 toward the Porkies.
Remember that wallet on top of the car ? I wish to hell I
would have.

So I pay for the gas with cash and turn right around to go
look for the wallet. I walked miles of Hwy. 51 until it got
dark then got a room at the little motel closest to the scene
of the flat, paid cash, of course, and then settled in to watch
the All Star game.

Next morning I walk more miles of Hwy. 51, but no luck. Went
to the tire store in Woodruff and bought a new tire, paid cash,
of course, and took an accounting. No driver's license, no
credit cards, dwindling cash and 500 miles from home. (insert
foul language of choice ;-)

I called the Vilas county sheriff's office, described the
wallet etc., because I though having a police report on file
couldn't hurt if I got stopped by a trooper on the way home
and couldn't produce a license.

So, over a 1000 miles driven and I never wet a line.

Lessons learned;

Take more cash, WAY more cash than you think you'll need and
install the AAA Roadside Assistance app on the iPhone. (After
trying to navigate phone hell I thought there has to be an app
for this. There is.)

It was a leaky valve stem, I'd have been fine if I had noticed
the slow leak before I drove the tire to death.

Worst TR ever.

--
Ken Fortenberry

Oh, shucks...a sad but familiar tale.

Back in my teenaged years, I was riding with a friend from central
Maine to Boston, and somewhere on the side of the highway in a very
remote spot he stopped to take a ****, so I took advantage of that
moment to change into shorts (it was a hot day and I was in jeans). A
few hours later, I realized my wallet had fallen out of my pants
pocket when I was changing, but my friend had no interest in driving
150 miles back north for me to look for it, so I sort of gave up hope
if seeing it, the $50 in it, and my birth certificate which I
foolishly carried with me at all times, folded up in my wallet.

Then, one day about 2 years later, I get a package in the mail. Some
highway worker mowing the grass hooked it in his mower (my guess is
that it jammed the blade, as it had a big gash in it), and he mailed
it home to me. It still had the $50 and the birth certificate,
although it was worse for wear after spending 2 Maine winters beside
the road.

So maybe your story will have some sort of happy ending way down the
road. You can't reclaim the lost fishing days, but perhaps you will be
able to hijack someone's roff thread with a cool story. I hope so. :-)

--riverman