The Long Road Home

Usually the only thing I expect the drive back to Oregon to be is boring and maybe a little scenic on the right day. Normally I just sit in my car and stare mindlessly at the road ahead, but this time I would have to get out of my car for a little more than gas. The thing that first notified me that I had an epically flat tire was most likely my rim scraping the asphalt- ouch.  The smell of burnt rubber and exceptional rumbling of my car definitely solidified my decision. When you pull over on the side of Highway 5 in California or Oregon there are a lot of things that are uncertain, the most concerning being your location, so I had no clue where I was or how long it would take for me to get my tire changed so I could drive to the nearest gas station. I wasn't too beat up over the fact that the road chewed my tire to bits, but rather that we were going to lose so much time on the drive after I had tried so hard to be punctual about our trip, a rarity for me and my friends. I know, Apple should probably be paying me, but I thank the iPhone once again for triangulating my location in the middle of nowhere so people knew where to help me.When the kind folks from AAA (that's triple A for those of you still trying to figure out the abbreviation) showed up, I expected to put on my shitty little spare tire and roll to the nearest gas station to cash out on a real tire; however, BMW proved their reputation in the clutch. When he reached into my spare tire compartment, out popped a slick new tire with a shiny new rim. My jaw dropped as my heart rose because we were only sidelined for about a half-hour.

I would like to send a shout out to BMW for saving the day, well,  at least partially. Later that drive I got a speeding ticket (I swear they don't post the speed limit enough) for barely cracking the limit, which kind of ended my 6 hour lucky streak and took me back off my high horse. You live, you might learn, but you'll always have the memories. Maybe I'll have better luck on the next road trip. Portland? Vancouver? San Diego? You never know, but I'll certainly let you know if my car fucks up again.