Quite a while back, as far as this trip goes, we were traveling south on an interstate -- maybe in Mississippi -- when smoke started billowing from a semi in front of us. I backed off, pretty sure of what was happening, called Mike's attention to it as he was studying a map, and we got to see a tire or two disintegrate from the right rear of the truck.
What surprised me the most was not the truck swerving about nor the amount of time it took the driver to get full control of the vehicle ... it was the large chunk of tire that flew maybe 50-60 feet in the air. So high in fact that I could only guess where it was for a moment and had to make my decision as to where and when it was coming down without being able to see it at the top of its arc. On our trips we've seen some other trucks lose parts of their tires, but nothing as dramatic as this. I would never have guessed a piece would fly that high.
That particular chunk had so much hang time that I had time to ask Mike if he thought left was better than right to avoid its re-entry. And he had had time to shout a warning, not knowing I'd seen it take off also. He was able to lean forward and look up to follow its path better than me, as I still had to watch the surrounding traffic.
Anyway, none of the pieces ended up in the traveled lanes and no accidents resulted.
We did have an accident of another kind last night, however. It happened in our motel room. We'd reserved a "suite" at the Comfort Inn West of the Ashley in Charleston. It turned out to be much nicer than we expected. The in-room jacuzzi that Mike has enjoyed so much in a few past hotels was in a spacious bathroom. We both spoke high praises of the whole set up. Separate room with a large flat screen TV. Anyway, very nice and we should know better by now than to be vocal with such praise.
We got back from a Ruby Tuesday's where we met an especially interesting server named Bann, when Mike went in to start filling the jacuzzi. Less than a minute later, as I sat at the computer, seemingly all hell broke loose. BANG CLATTER BANG CLUNK! Mike swearing. Water sounds. I hustled to the bathroom. There was water everywhere. Mike, fully clothed, was soaked ... and still swearing. The big heavy curved faucet was sitting in the middle of the jacuzzi.
Here's what happened according to MICS: When Mike turned on the water, it sprayed outside the tub and onto the bathroom floor and Mike's legs, socks, and sneakers. He twisted the faucet a little to try to shut off the spray from the base of the faucet. That was all it took for the water pressure to shoot the several pound metal faucet off the pipe and into the air. Water hit the ceiling, the rest of Mike, most of the wall space inside this large bathroom, and was pooling on the floor. Mike was shutting off the water and managed to somewhat contain the damage.
It was Saturday night. No maintenance people here. A very nice desk person named Sharleen brought up an armful of towels. Mike was now laughing about the whole thing. Sharleen tried to understand what had happened. In the process she put the faucet back on the pipe and turned on the water. For a moment it looked like it was going to work, then I spotted the faucet moving up the pipe and shouted to her in time to turn it off or she would have been as wet as Mike.
So we finished drying things up as best we could. Sharleen went to maintenance to try to find a screw or something to go in the empty hole at the faucet base to secure it. While she was gone, I had a chance to look more closely at the problem and realized that whatever was missing wasn't a screw nor a locking device that she was going to find. By the time I tried to call her to tell her that, she was just arriving at our door with a big box of screws and what-nots. None came close to working.
Part 2 of this story is still developing, with an added cast of characters. More later. I'm sure yawl are holding your breath.
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