My Knight in Shining Tow Truck

Welcome to Colorado, here’s your blowout.

Yes, folks, barely 1,000 miles into the trip, I have my first trailer mishap…an entire tread unwinding itself from a tire. (And here I was thinking I’d have nothing to write about for the day except a ginger pancake breakfast in Moab and 200 miles of pretty scenery to Glenwood Springs…)

I’ve long known that I have some seriously good guardian angels. A host of them, in fact. They, like Derek of Burney’s Pro Tow in the land of Grand Junction, CO, seem to be working 24-1/2 hours a day on my behalf. So as far as blowouts go, this one went about as good as it can get.

Now when you’re driving a normal car, with only one axle at each end of it, you know rather quickly when you have a tire problem. The vehicle suddenly swerves, lurches, lists, or gives some other obvious indication of abrupt lameness.

When you have a rig with dual or triple axles at the same end, however, you can sometimes lose an entire wheel before you know anything’s wrong—there’s an extra axle or two that tries to carry the burden, and you may feel no change in the towing.

So when I saw a flash of black rubber unpeeling behind me in the left-hand side mirror, my first thought was that I’d rolled over a road hazard. Split-seconds later came the rest: Uh, there hadn’t been a road hazard ahead of me to run over. Wow, someone’s just had a blowout—must be that Corolla over there, who’s also slowing down as if in shock. No, all four of their tires are intact. And they’re still going slowly, trying to get my attention. Aw, shit, that must mean…

Mind you, I’m on I-70, a dual-lane interstate that zips at 75mph. I’ve been humming along more slowly, right-hand lane as usual. I need a place to pull over safely to check out the damage. An on-ramp is to my right, no shoulder in sight. Flashers on, I keep moving, keep slowing, seeking safe harbor from semis, pickups, and other traffic zooming around me. Whew, an extra-wide shoulder presents itself after the on-ramp, I drive over the rumble strips to get completely off the highway, and inspect the damage.

The rearmost tire on the left side of the trailer has been completely scalped.

Hmmm, Onstar, AAA, or Good Sam? Thank goodness I have choices for support. Ten minutes on hold waiting for a Good Sam Emergency Road Service dispatcher, and about thirty minutes later, Derek of Pro Tow shows up to help. Ironically, I had passed him about 45 miles back helping out a guy in a 40' motorhome with a similar blowout.

Tow trucks are considered emergency vehicles. It’s common courtesy (as well as the law in some states) to move away from them on the highway, so workers can deal safely with a disabled vehicle. “Safely” in Derek’s case was to not get mowed down by a semi while his back was 6 inches from the I-70 traffic. I had already spent a half hour inside the rig getting buffeted by wind pressure from everything that passed, and being there with Derek right next to these things was a little scary.

To make myself useful, I stood by the tow truck and shooed people into the far lane. I got pretty good at it, too, for most drivers at least edged over to give us room, and many of the semis that hadn’t already seen us a quarter mile back shoved over and waved. Even still, I earnestly wished I’d packed a full-body fluorescent jump suit and the paddles those guys use at airplane gates.

Taking off the flat.

Getting the spare.

Derek explained that the tire’s outer tread had separated from the inner, creating an air pocket that heated up, expanded like a balloon, and blew its lid. We looked at the other tires. The tread of the rearmost tire at the right was quite bloated (instead of nice and flat), indicating that separation was undoubtedly going on there, too. Another pop-off was due soon. OK, I’ll take two new tires to go, please.


Damage to the rig included some nasty rubber marks on the sidewall and the under-edging just behind the tires, caused by the tread as it ripped and snaked away. Its force also sheared off the handle that opens the valve on the rear gray-water tank. What used to be an overly long 12" of aluminum rod is now a perfect length of 3", albeit a bit bent and without a handle. At least the valve still works.

The whole service job cost me nothing (I think my three years of Good Sam Road Service just paid for itself), and I happily handed Derek a twenty for his time. He pointed me to Rifle, 9 miles away, to a Walmart Superstore that has a tire service center. I prefer not to frequent Walmarts for many reasons, but getting help there was better than risking another problem with the remaining faulty tire.

I bought the rig used, a 2005 unit, just two months ago. By my best guess, it’s been sitting in the Arizona heat for the last two or three years, getting little use. Tires deteriorate. I’d already been a little worried about their condition when I bought the trailer, and figured I was on borrowed time with them. Replacing two today just seemed par for the course.

But at Walmart, I noticed that three of the tires were all the same (non-standard) brand, including the one that had just blown. The fourth had already been replaced by the previous owners. That meant that two of the four originals had gone bad, a third was about to go, and the fourth…well, who knows its quality given the fate of its three brethren?

So off they all came, and the Flying Heart now has four brand-spanking-new Goodyear tow-specific tires, smelling all fresh and stinky of new rubber. I’m smiling and feeling a heck of a lot more confident about the next 3,000 miles of the trip, and about spending more time on the road in general.