Need An Acura MDX Tire Changed? Call Me.

This past weekend I went on a couple's retreat just north of Broken Bow, Oklahoma, with the Zumwalts for a little relaxation away from the children.  It was also a birthday/Valentine's gift for Joanna and Brandy since their birthdays are in January and February.

 

On the final day of our weekend, Danny and I went to pack the car about an hour before check-out and found one of the tires to Joanna's car flat (it was actually Joanna who first noticed the problem).  While flat tires are an annoyance no matter what time of day or where you are, this ended up being the biggest hassle I have had in quite a while.

 

It should be noted, I am a tire changing master.  I've had Moby, my current Toyota Camry, since 2001 and in that time I have probably changed 10 flat tires.  While I still greatly fear the vehicle falling off the carjack and crushing the life out of me, I am quite proficient in the art of changing a tire.  However, this was the first time I had ever had to change a tire on a 2006 Acura MDX.  Well, after the ordeal on Sunday, I am now an expert for that car as well.

 

Once the problem was identified, Danny and I went into man mode.  We slowly moved the car to the paved street (since the parking area at the cabin was made of loose rocks and I really didn't want to end the trip on a bummer with a 5,500-pound SUV falling on top of me or Danny) and found most of the necessary tools needed to change the tire to the donut spare.  I say most of the tools because it turns out that Joanna's car has a special wheel nut on each tire that requires a key to loosen and remove.  Being my first time to change a tire on her car, I didn't realize this until the other four nuts had been loosened.  It took a quick Google search (because the Acura's owner's manual didn't tell us this) to learn that the key needed to remove the special wheel nut was located in the glove box.

 

So I now had all the wheel nuts removed, the flat tire taken off, and the spare donut tire put on.  We tightened everything up, lowered the car off the jack, put the tools back where they belonged, and moved the car to see if everything was working properly.  Everything was not working properly.

 

As soon as I rolled the wheel a whole revolution, Danny said the air inside the wheel completely dissipated and the tire went as flat as the original one.  The next idea was to put the original flat tire in Danny's trunk and drive to Broken Bow in order to get a new tire or patch the bad one.  About three miles away from the cabin, with another 8 miles to go into town, we decided to try something different.

 

Surprisingly, Danny's spare tire for his Kia was the same size as our Acura.  It just so happened to match up, because if the Acura had been a year younger or Danny's Kia had been a year older, things would not have worked out to where we could put Danny's spare on our car.  So we went back to the cabin, got the tools back out, jacked the car up again, replaced our spare with Danny's, and began lowering the vehicle.  As I was bringing the car down, Danny's spare tire was slowly getting flatter and flatter.  Yet, it didn't go all the way down.  That was progress.

 

There was enough air in the spare tire to get to the nearby gas station and fill it up.  I slowly navigated Joanna's car with Joanna and the Zumwalts following in their car to the gas station and we filled both Danny's tire and my spare tire up to the max pressure.  Danny and I decided having his spare, which was built for a vehicle half the size of our SUV, was probably not great to leave on for more than a few miles.  So what did we do?  It's time to change spare tires again.  For those counting, this is now the third time we have gone through this process and we still haven't gotten a proper-sized tire to go on the car.  We jacked the SUV up, got the tools out, took Danny's spare off, put our spare on, lowered the SUV back down, put the tools away, and decided to start driving to a tire shop.

 

You might not be surprised to learn that few tire shops are open on a Sunday.  The closest place we could find online was a Sears Automotive in Paris, Texas, which was approximately 65 miles away.  On the off chance that our spare tire blew out, the SUV flipped a couple of times, and I was ejected from the vehicle to my death, it was decided that I would drive Joanna's car alone and she ride in the safe car with the Zumwalts.  It was okay.  I had 50s on 5 with Sirius XM radio.

 

After an hour-and-a-half of driving we made it to the Sears Automotive in Paris.  And wouldn't you know it, the iPhone had lied to us.  The automotive portion of the store was closed.  I felt like Clark Griswold arriving at Wally World, except there was no robotic moose to punch in the nose.

 

At this point, which was 2 p.m. and nobody had eaten since breakfast that morning, we decided to just ride it out on the donut all the way to Arlington and I would worry about it on Monday.  As we were searching for a place to eat, Danny and I decided to drive the extra hour to Greenville and dine at a Chinese restaurant we are fond of.  We had found it during a friend's wedding that our wives were a part of and since then had returned a couple of times when visiting the area or passing through.

 

While driving to Greenville, Joanna found an NTB located there that was open until 6 p.m.  We dropped the car off, went and ate our Chinese food with the Zums, and returned to get our car, which would have four good wheels and new oil in the engine, at about 4:30.  The car wasn't finished yet because they couldn't find the key to remove the special wheel nut.  I had put it in the back seat with the other tire removal tools, which was neither where the key belonged nor the tools.  I had just put them there in order to get to them faster should I have to change the tire again at some point on the way from Broken Bow to the tire shop.

 

We were finally on the road in complete working order at about 5 p.m.  Our original plan was to be home about 3 to get the boys from my mom.  We didn't end up pulling into our driveway until 6:30 and she brought our children to us.

Long story short, if you need your tire changed, don't call me.  The title to this post originally was requesting your phone calls, but after Sunday's debacle I've done that chore enough for a while.