Another day another pothole story...or actually the ultimate end of yesterdays story.
Last night I went to a party at a friends, upon leaving several hours later I discovered that I had a very flat tire....down on the rim. Luckily my friend the party host, Ferrell, is a car collector and has an amazing garage where he stores and works on his vehicles, equiped with a commercial air compressor. So we got my tire full up so I could make it home and change it the next morning.
I won't go into the trials of changing a tire with the "modern" type jacks provided, suffice it to say I called Manuel, who will fix your tire at your home. After about 15 minutes of work, Manuel called me out front to say that this tire, with only about 20K miles on it was kaput....he couldn't fix it. He described it as side wall failure, probably caused by running over something hard edged. "Like a pothole", I asked. "Yeah, exactly like a big pothole....that's the usual cause" Manuel opined. I then got the privelage of spending about $300 on two new tires. [Best to buy them in pairs], plus 45 bucks for Manuel to tell me he couldn't fix it!
So now you see why I write about potholes.