Bound for Rexburg—Part V

The ride down the mountain to Les Schwab took about twenty minutes.

In that time, we learned about how Chris became a tow truck operator, the fact that he’s on call 24/7 and only sleeps in fits and starts, how his son was doing, and at least half a dozen of the rescues he’d been on. While the latter left me cringing (the woman who called them from inside the car which had been literally run over and crushed in by a truck to tell them she was still alive and she could see them was the most incredible), I liked his dogged determination and unrelenting desire to be the best. All because of an experience he had with a tow which was more than lacking. It was atrocious. So, he decided to step into the void and do it better than anyone else.

Once at Les Schwab, though, there were more minutes of uncertainty. I was not privy to the conversation, but after hopping down to speak with the Les Schwab guy who would be fixing our Durango, Chris came back to tell us that we might be spending the night. Apparently, the studs we needed from Dodge were harder to get than most. There wasn’t a dealership nearby, so it could require ordering from some parts place in the Tri-Cities or something, which would mean an overnight stay in Pendleton.

Again, I wasn’t happy. By now, it was too late to call the hotel in Boise to cancel a night’s stay, so we would pay for it. Plus, we would have to locate three rooms in Pendleton, which isn’t necessarily overflowing with hotels. Who knew if there would be any available at this late date, and just how much they would charge because it was last-minute. Not wanting to think about that, I pushed it out of my mind. It wasn’t going to be something I could control anyway. So much, at this point, was out of my control.

So, we spent a few more anxious moments while Chris unloaded the Durango in a bay and the Les Schwab guy made some phone calls. Then, as the rest of the group went inside the store to wait, I stayed behind to see what we might be doing for the night.

“I’m surprised,” the Les Schwab guy announced, putting down the phone, “but we can get the parts tonight. We can get you fixed and out the door this evening.”

Thank you, I said to myself. It wasn’t directed to the Les Schwab guy, but heavenward. Things would turn around.

So, I joined everyone else in the waiting area, and told Angela what was happening. She was relieved to hear the news. We settled up with Chris, who didn’t charge us nearly what I thought he might, and thanked him profusely for his service. He wished us a safe trip, told us to be careful with the mountain, and disappeared into the night.

As it turned out, not only did the studs have to be replaced, but the wheel too. The holes where the studs poke through had been wallowed out, making them more oval in shape than round. Fortunately, there was a regular sized spare, never been used, bolted underneath the Durango which could be used in its stead. In order to loosen the nut holding the bolt and spare, I had to unpack half of the back, which was filled to the brim with Trevor’s stuff, just enough to open up the hatch in the floor. And of course, that meant repacking when they were done. I think I managed to get everything put back.

In total our stay at Les Schwab was around an hour an a half. They checked the rest of the wheels and found out that at least two lug nuts on each of them were also loose, so they torqued them up to where they needed to be. Why they were loose, no one seemed to have an explanation for, however. Other than weeks earlier, the dealer where we took our Durango for service had changed the oversized tires that the Durango came with for regular sized tires in a bid to fix a phantom electrical problem that nothing else they’d tried had been able to fix.

The consensus was, the dealer had not torqued the lug nuts sufficiently, and now, after extended use, they were starting to spin off.

Thinking the mystery was solved, and assured that the broken wheel was now fixed, we paid the Les Schwab bill and headed back to the Durango for another foray attempt into the Blue Mountains. This time, though, it would be in the dark, with the temperature dropping. Weather conditions were holding, so no new precipitation was expected, but I remembered the words Chris had left cemented in my mind. “We’ve had a few days of good weather. We rarely go more than two days without a change.”

TO BE CONTINUED