There we were cruising along on Highway 97, feeling like we were making good time, when a passenger in a passing vehicle waved at us, pointed to the trailer and pressed her hands together while mouthing the word, “flat.”
From the side mirror, the driver could see that we were throwing off rubber.
We pulled into a convenient space of flat dirt and shade.
We had a flat tire on the trailer and noticed nothing from the cab of the truck. Double axles are good! Good Samaritans like the people in the passing vehicle are even better.
Since Fred came prepared, we were able to get the tire off, put a spare on and fill it with air within minutes of getting the bad news. I barely had time to commune with the native bees.
Since the first business we saw after this misadventure was a tire place, we pulled in and replaced the spare.