Oklahoma Breakdown

Tooling outta Tulsa. It’s the first sunny day on the trip. And I’m thinking I haven’t written anything yet. What? .Maybe something about how we travel now, GPS, satellite radio, cruise control.

Then WHAP!

Then KHWAMP, WHAMP WHAMP WHAMP WHAMP

I hope it’s the road surface but I’m also pretty sure it’s a flat. I pull onto the shoulder, get out and look. It’s not a flat. It’s a blowout. There’s nothing left of the left rear tire but a few shreds of rubber still attached to the wheel.

I get back behind the wheel and push the emergency service button. First a recording, “This call will be monitored for quality control purposes.” Great. That’s reassuring.. Then a worried voice, “Is everyone alright?”

I explain the situation. “We’ll call someone to come and change the tire for you. “I’ve got you westbound on I-44. Is that correct?” It is I tell her. It’ll be about half an hour,” she says.

About twenty minutes late my phone rings. ”This is Ed from triple A. I understand you need someone to change a tire. He’s on another call now. He should be there in half an hour.”

So we sit by the side of the road. An Oklahoma state trooper pulls up. “Is help on the way?” he asks.

“We hope so.”

Turbulence from the semis rushing past rock the car. Some trucks pull into the outside lane.

“Some will. Some won’t,” says the trooper.

He departs.

Another twenty minutes go by. The phone rings again. “This is Becky from Acme Tow Truck. Are you on the 44?”

“Yes.”

“Our driver is on his way. He should be there in a half an hour.”

Half an hour goes by. Another phone call from Becky. “Is he there yet?”

“No.”

“What exit are you near.”

“I don’t know but I see a sign that tells me I’m seventeen miles east of Stroud.”

“I’ll tell him that. Maybe it’ll help him find you.”

I’m tempted to say that it can’t be hard to find a car broken down on the side of the Interstate.  But I forbear.

Fifteen minutes later Matt pulls up in the service vehicle. He’s taciturn but sets straight to work and gets the spare mounted. I note that the car has suffered some structural damage.

 “Will it be OK to drive?” I ask.

“Might be.”

He departs.

We decide to drive the seventeen miles to Stroud and see how it goes.

Exiting there we can hear a lotta distressing noise coming from the wheel well.

Then, lo, directly across the way: Roy’s Repairs Shop. Might better be called Roy’s Ramshackle Repairs Shack. And there is Roy played by Wilfred Brimley. Well, just about. He’s older, short, round bellied, dressed in matching green mechanic’s slacks and jacket both of which are as grease stained as his green baseball cap. He sports a full grey mustache also grease stained.

He speaks with a thick Oklahoma accent “Back ‘er in and lemme see what I can do.”

He directs us to the “customer waiting room”. Clutter galore. But on the walls are all these somewhat reassuring thank-you notes from folks in distress that he’s previously helped. A half hour later he calls us out to see what he has wrought. He’s repaired the damage. Not so that the car won’t be spending time in the collision shop sometime soon. But seemingly secure enough for us to head on our way.

“How much do I owe you?”

Roy takes off his cap, runs his hand over what little hair he has, looks skyward. “Well, lessee. A half hour labor. Thirty dollars.”

We need a new spare tire so we get directions to the Lexus dealer in Oklahoma City downloaded to the navigation system.  When we get there we ask them to look over Roy’s work and let us know if they think we can make it to San Francisco without further intervention. We can they opine.

Modern road trip: emergency response system, navigation system, cell phones. And good ole Roy by the exit in Stroud Oklahoma just there to help.