Somehow Crosby road trips never go down without a hitch… and I’m not talking about the trailer hitch. What was supposed to be a 14 hour road trip turned into a 17 hour saga. Of course, you are privy to the nitty-gritty details right here on MSJ! Lucky you.
Somewhere north of Coso Junction and south of Bartlett on Highway 395 in the interior of the great state of California we stopped for fuel and when I hopped out of the car, curious if I could still feel my feet, I heard a hissing noise. Even though I needed to desperately visit the restroom, I silently investigated the sound until I determined that it was coming from the front left tire. Not good. No, not good at all. I informed Captain, My Captain, and went inside. My husband did indeed solve the problem somewhat temporarily with Fix-A-Flat …. and tire repair job in an aerosol can. Amazing! The hissing behind us, we ventured back onto the 395.
Sadly, a vibration began not long after the F-A-F was sprayed into the tire. The vibrating increased until Bishop, CA. We love Bishop, CA. If you haven’t been there, you are missing not only the certified purest water in the nation, but an award-winning bakery with the Original Sheepherder Bread and a lovely park with a creek and baby duckies. We stop there every year… both directions. It has remarkable views of the Sierra Nevadas to the west and another nameless mountain range to the east… and snow-covered peaks. Lovely sight to behold.
A tire shop was needed… badly. Rick decided to leave Larisa, Keeve, Trixie (the dog) and myself at the wonderful park and take Austin to go find a tire. We didn’t really plan the park adventure very well. We had no cell phone, no watch, no money, no knowledge of where Rick and Austin went, no food and we discovered later, no cardboard or sharpie pens to make signs that read “Stranded, Starving, Sad.” We figured we could make a few bucks while we waited, but no. We weren’t even prepared for that! Larisa did have two water bottles, but at 91 degrees, they didn’t last long.
At the park, we were resting peacefully (before the panic, the realization that we were indeed stranded, and the hunger set in) on a bench watching mothers and toddlers feed the ducks in a small lake. The scene was right out of some romantic movie with Weeping Willow trees, a gazebo and everything, except I was on the park bench with my daughter, son, and our dog, not my lovable husband. Anyway, Trixie was behaving quite nicely….. until a maintenance man drove by on a golf cart. She took off like a shot, between my legs, under the bench and after the man. Her leash is one of those retractable thin rope kind that only work on dogs less than 12 pounds. Stupidly, I grabbed the rope and felt the burn on my pinky finger almost immediately, but not quite fast enough to let go and be free from rope burn. Owwwie! Stupid dog. Now I was stranded and wounded.
We moved to the bakery patio on main street, hoping to see our van shortly… with a new tire. The kind lady behind the counter, wearing the little Dutch white hat pinned to her hair, did fill our water bottles several times for us. And there were samples put out every 20 minutes of sticky buns, chili cheese bread, the award-winning Sheepherder bread and shortbread cookies. At least we wouldn’t go into a diabetic coma! Well, come to find out. It was while we were sitting at the bakery we realized the extent of our unpreparedness. We did spy a cardboard box behind the store adjacent to the bakery that we could have used for a sign, but we still didn’t solve the no-sharpie pen problem. We played “Name someone who has that car” for 90 minutes as each car drove by. We named almost everyone we know, but in Bishop there are a LOT of truck drivers, so Pastor Dan and Regan won.
Eventually Rick did return and the tire with the hiss was not the vibrating problem at all. The right front tire developed a bulge, probably because it was not receiving the same attention, love and care as the other front tire… so it caused the vibrating front end, hoping for some love. So, two new tires later…. Rick came to save us and thankfully ended our bakery loitering situation.
See? Crosby road trips are the BEST!