Sure enough the nearside front was pancaked. Luckily the forecast rain hadn't yet set in. Changing the wheel on a road with a heavy camber, in the dark, is hard enough without having strong Manchester drizzle to cope with as well.
After twenty minutes we were back on the road, Nikki using her iPhone to consult the opening times of local tyre fitters and me hoping the spare had enough air to get me there and I wouldn't run over anything (else) sharp on the way.
Arrived back home an hour or so later, almost a hundred quid poorer after the discovery that those three measly feet of travel on the completely flat tyre had wrecked the sidewalls and a repair was out of the question. At least, that's what they tell you.
2 comments:
Yes, they don't like to run flat, even for a little bit.
Twenty minutes? That almost certifies you for a job in the tire profession. You probably wouldn't want it though.
Did you find out what made it lose air?
There was a screw embedded in the middle of the tread. Nothing to do with the pile of glass I remember driving close to on Thursday night (apparently).
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