In my life I haven’t had very many flat tires, but when I do, they tend to be eventful, so to speak. The first flat I ever had was on a dune buggy. It really was my fault.  I aired the tires down when going off road down logging trails. I was in my mid-twenties and apparently being cool with low-pressure tires was more important than actual performance - after all, lowering pressure helps in sand or rock, NOT logging roads.  Adding to that was the fact that the Beetle had way oversize tires on the back - ten inch wide rims - and the tires weren’t quite wide enough so the bead had to stretch out to seat against the rim instead, giving a sidwall that tapered in from the edge of the rim. Hey, at least I wasn’t the one that matched up those tires and rims. Anyway, lowering the pressure in that situation was asking for, well, exactly what we got. When one of the tires’ beads popped away from the rim and with no spare, the guy that was with me (no second vehicle, but at least another person was along - did I mention ‘young and stupid’?) and I walked out to the road, fortunately only a couple miles. We hitchhiked about ten miles to a service station where we called his dad to come rescue us. Eventually his dad arrived. This guy owned a body shop and had a customized Lincoln, you know those old ones with the rear sucide doors. He had put side pipes on it which gave it just a few inches clearance. Wasn’t I a prould guy when he proceeded to drive that puppy all the way to our stranded Beetle, in the dark no less. The three of us took the the wheel and tire to the service station where the guy cussed non-stop because it was so hard to get the tire to seat against the rim. He finally put a cinch strap around the circumference of the tire and that made the edge bulge out enough he could get it to seal. Then, back all the way to Beetle in the low Conti again.

Let me diverge a bit on the Beetle. It was a 1961 with fiberglass fenders, hood and nose. It had a rare folding top that covered most of the roof. I was in construction at the time and would stick twenty or more 2X4’s out the top to take to a job site (which quite amused the local lumber company). When I got the car it was ragged inside and out and the cloth top was ripped up. I remember reading a VW manual that flatly stated replacing the cloth top was a job for professionals and would take four hours for a professional to do. I didn’t like the hundreds of dollars I was quoted to replace it, so being young but not entirely stupid, I bought a new cloth top for it for about forty bucks and put it in myself in two hours. Later I did my best with the body work myself and the same friend’s dad painted it for me, a metalic red. From the outside it looked quite sharp. Inside was another story.

Back to the flat tires… My second flat tire was on my Kawasaki KZ1000, a hot bike at the time. I would have been in my mid-twentys still. I was going down Hwy 84 in Portland, Oregon when the rear went flat. I rode along the very narrow outside shoulder on the completely flat tire going about 5 MPH as cars wizzed by inches to my left. After taking the first exit, I called a friend to come and haul me home.

The third flat I was in my late 30’s, renting a car on a business trip in Honolulu (I know, I know I lead a tough life). I was headed back to the airport but had time to kill so I stopped in a multi-story parking garage to do some window shopping. When I left I had a flat tire. Not being in the mood to change a tire myself, I called Hertz and they said to leave the car there and take a taxi in. So I left the car right where it was, in a no-parking zone directly in front of one of the court buildings or something like that. Fortunately that was over a decade before 9/11 or someone would have thought there was more going on than a flat tire. Bottom line, I got to my plane in plenty of time and didn’t have to pay the taxi, although I did have to do quite a bit of convincing to the person who checked my rental car in — so to speak.

The fourth flat was on my boat trailer when I was heading up the Columbia Gorge for a weekend of water skiing. Unfortunately it was a single axle trailer, but since I didn’t have a spare I drove the roughly dozen miles to the next exit in the middle of nowhere, but one of the service stations had a used tire that would fit so after a bit I was on my way again.  To say that the flat was shredded by the time I got to the service station would be putting it mildly. As luck would have it, the wind blew like the Banchees all weekend from sunup to sundown so I didn’t even put the boat in the water. I would have been in my early forties at the time.

The fifth flat was a year and a half ago on Sharlet’s BMW Z-3. I was driving in the neighborhood, looking at a handmade wooden canoe and noticed the steering was really heavy. Upon further examination, the left front was flat. It was dark so I called my Cousin Larry who lived close by and he came with his truck but by the time he got there I nearly had the job done. It took me a while to figure out how to get the donut spare out of the bottom of the car, but eventually got it out. The next day I drove to Costco and ordered tires all around since they were getting low anyway. The next morning I went to back out of the garage and the left back tire was flat! Fortunately I was less than a mile from work so I walked to work - for two fucking weeks. In the rain. If I’d known that I’d have another flat I’d have had them put tires on that were in stock instead of ordering the tires on sale. When the tires finally came I drove the car the five miles to Costco with the donut on the front and a flat on the rear. Hey, the tires were run-flat tires. I ran them when they were flat, ok? Well, for the record, run-flat isn’t run flat very long. The rims had almost worn through the tread by the time I got to Costco. When I picked up the car to leave one of the guys there - a Mexican - asked me if I was Mexican. At the time I thought that was a curious question, but on my way home it dawned on me why he asked…

The sixth flat came yesterday. Maybe I just have a penchent for motorcycle flats on freeways, but I was heading out of San Francisco on a beautiful, sunny day and I noticed the steering was really heavy. I pulled over and the front tire was nearly flat. Once again I drove to the next exit and pulled off.  By then it was flat as a pancake. I called my wife to let her know what was going on and walked a mile or so to a service station to get a can of flat fix. The hole was pretty big so it didn’t seal tightly and by the time I got home eleven miles later it was flat as a pancake again. The rear tire was worn to where it needed replacing but the front was at least half the tread, so today I went around and found a place to put on both front and rear tires. I’m wanting slightly wider tires so it took a bit of figuring on how to get the size I wanted on the oversize rims I have. Meanwhile, I’ve got a week or two where the bike will be down waiting for the tires to arrive and get installed.

Ok, now that I’ve written the above, maybe I’ll have to take back the quip about not so many flat tires… But, if you have a vehicle - whether it has one, two, or four wheels - with a flat tire (or two) that you need to have driven a few miles, just give me a call. I’ve got lots of experience driving with flats!

P.S. Spares are for whimps.