Blow out

The left rear tire on my car blew out on the 101 Freeway on my drive back from Humboldt yesterday. I've had tires blow before, but only going 10 miles per hour, if that. This was at 60 mph and that tire went with the kind of spectacular pyrotechnics usually reserved for bad action movies. Strands of rubber and steel whipped around, chunks flying off into the lanes behind me. Sparks flew. It dislodged the left rear panel, tore holes in the plastic protector, scored the paint on the back and side of the car, and completely took off the locking hinged gas flap AND the top of the gas cap.

Yup, tore the hinges right out of the thing. Amazing.

Between the loud BANG of the explosion and the initial swerve, Boska was woken up from a deep sleep and I was suddenly very aware of just how much I had to pee. Making my way to the side of the freeway, I made sure Boska was okay, and we made a quick trip into the bushes so I could focus on getting the car up and running again. Can't do anything on a full bladder. Triple AAA dispatched a tow truck driver and I made a few phone calls while I waited.

I drove home 70 miles on a donut spare, keeping the car to 50 mph the entire way. Except for the half hour where traffic moved at 10 mph, if that, crawling through San Rafael towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

I had such plans for last night. I was gonna get home by 6:00 pm, get Boska settled in, have dinner...catch up on emails and my posting. I did eventually get home (but not until 8:30 pm), did get Boska settled and have dinner, even cleaned out the cat boxes and unloaded the dishwasher, but as far as concentration or focus for writing? Forget it. Shot to hell. Blown up along with my tire.

As annoyed as I am with the damage to the car, I'm aware that it could have been a lot worse. Neither Boska nor I were hurt and I now know that a donut spare will suffice in a pinch.

Pictures of tire and side of car to follow in a later post...