Our New Jersey friends invited us to Peas Eddy, New York, for a spell along a pool of the upper Delaware River.
Getting there was an adventure, given the inevitable traffic and delays caused by construction and traffic accidents. It had been awhile since I have driven in such traffic. Statistically speaking, it was surprising their weren’t more collisions. The potential was certainly there.
Fortunately, we weren’t the cause of any delays, but an intended side trip to Bethel Woods Woodstock museum didn’t materialize, thanks to a flat tire.
That’s another tale.
The tire-indicator light picked this trip to be flaky. It lit up four times.
The first time, I dutifully got out and checked the tires. Each was inflated to pressure.
The second time, I ignored the light; it was telling the truth. The ride got weird. Turns out, we were nearly riding on the rim of a back tire before discovery.
Thanks to a good Samaritan at a Dunkin Donuts, we figured out the jack, lowered the dusty doughnut tire (first time for this boy on this car for a tire change), changed tires and got sent on our way.
Stopped at a tire store, seventh in line, found out the tire was not repairable (That hurt. We had just put four new skins on the car before we left.) but were on our way again two-and-a-half hours later.
We got to Peas Eddy (those old names are so engaging!) much later than we planned and skipped a nearby Santana concert because we were pooped. (Oh, to have the stamina of a 20-year-old!)
Needless to say, I stopped after the third and fourth notification by the indicator to make sure the tires were aired up.