Plus
In 1986 the world was a MUCH more friendly place.
In around '89, I bought a '72 Pontiac LeMans for $100.00 that had so much rust you could see all the way through the trunk, and exhaust leaked in through holes in the floor. The guy who sold it to me went on and on about the great tires on it, and they sure did have a lot of tread, for such a beater. I was planning to drive it from Minneapolis, MN to Lake Tahoe, CA.
Around about Des Moines, Iowa, the muffler came off, but it was still held on by a piece of rubber that I could not cut, so the muffler dragged on the ground, shooting up sparks. I soon found out why the car had such new tires on it. They were B.F. Goodrich radials that had been recalled. The reason they were recalled is because the wraps in them unraveled as you drove, forming big, golf ball sized bulges until they just ripped open. Self-destroying tires. What a neat idea!
So I had a blowout on the Nebraska interstate, I-80, not far from North Platte, I had my first blowout. I still had a spare, but I didn't have a jack. A Nebraska State Trooper pulled up, and he let me use his jack, in fact he helped jack up the car. The car didn't have a parking brake, and it rolled, bending the jack, and almost killing the Nebraska State Trooper. This wasn't just any cop, either. This was a young, military haircut, strapping buck with mirror shades. I thought he might shoot me, but he helped me change the tire, and didn't even write me a ticket when I started that ridiculously loud engine, or mention that there were no keys to this car, as I had lost them on the drunken night I beat up the guy in the Parakeet story elsewhere on this forum, (I think the guy threw them in a ditch,) and I had to start this Pontiac with a screwdriver.
That was EXTRA NICE GUY #1.
Then, around Cheyenne or so, I noticed another ominous bulge forming on another tire. It would be hard not to notice, because as I drove along the freeway getting dangerously high on exhaust fumes, I could feel that wheel going "whump, whump, whump," more and more. I had once spent time in Laramie, and when I was getting closer to that town, I found a phone book, and found a tire dealer that had used tires starting at $5.00. I got there, and there was a young guy working, and he looked around, but he didn't have any used tires that were the right size for my rims. He had commented on the guitar case in the back seat, and asked if I was a musician, and we talked about some music stuff, and he must have liked me, because when I explained that $5.00 was about all I could afford, or I wouldn't have enough gas to get to Lake Tahoe, he decided to give me a brand new tire for $5.00, and told me if I see his boss on the way out, just keep my head down and keep driving. (I'm not sure what he thought that would do, but that's what he said.)
So in summary, I am one of the luckiest people alive. I've had more down times than most people would ever care to, and somehow, some good samaritan, or stroke of extreme luck always happened to come along, and save my ass.