Ode to spring: tow me, jack me

For months and years, Piotr and I discussed hiking up Mt. Cardigan. It's located close to my hometown, and I would hike it often as a lad. Home from university during summers, I'd hike up 2-3 times a week before work. It's a nice half day hike.

Since he was in town for his PhD graduation from Harvard Divinity, we carved out time to finally go. The morning of our adventure, I was to pick him up, and we would proceed on to NH.

About 2/3 the way to his place, I thought, "why is my car riding funny?" and then, "what's that odor?" Fish-philes know I do not have an acute sense of smell, so will not be surprised I didn't recognize it as "burning rubber." Parking at his place, I saw I had a flat tire.

Piotr called AAA, and who shows up, but this wiry but muscled late-20s tow boy. He really had to work to get my tire off, and his black undies were cheerfully exposed by his baggy jeans.

It sure took the edge off the misfortune.

We couldn't go hiking due to the timing, but we managed to go on Monday. It took several days to get a new tire, as well, since my car is so old, they no longer make the tire for it. So they had to hunt one down. Sigh.