The UGSS Return Story

TAGS: return story, BMW, UGSS, kroczaleski

After wrapping everything up on Sunday post bench training, photo taking and pizza eating Mike, Zane, Roadie Rob and I hit the road on our way back up to Michigan with my trunk packed to the gills with powerlifting equipment including my pair of 185 pound dumbbells. Well some quick math will show that the four of us weighed in excess of 1000 pounds, the dumbbells were 370 pounds themselves and we probably had another 150-200 pounds worth of gear and whatever packed in my car. So that works out well over a 1500 pound total, so we were carrying a little more than 3/4 of a ton in my BMW. I never did check the owner's manual but reason would lead me to suspect that we were slightly exceeding the recommended limit.

So we were barely out of the Columbus area running about 80 miles per hour, when a semi in front of me kicked up a big black chunk of something which I managed to hit with my rear driver's side tire. Shortly after that we all heard a "BOOM" which was the sound of my tire blowing out immediately followed by my other rear tire blowing out. Fortunately I have RFTs (run flat tires) on my car which have reinforced side walls that can be driven without any air pressure at all in them. I think this was responsible for for us not spinning out of control, rolling end over and having little bits of Zane and Roadie Rob scattered about the highway.

Instead, I just pulled over to the side of the road, hopped out and inspected the damage. We could clearly tell the driver's side tire was blown but we weren't sure about the other. Fortunately we were only about 1/4 mile from the next exit so Mike, Zane and Roadie Rob all agreed to walk to lighten the load while I drove on the pressure less RFTs to the exit and to the nearest gas station.

I pulled everything out of the trunk - including the dumbbells - and got to work trying the change the tire. After what seemed like an exceedingly long time to walk a 1/4 mile, the not-so-trim trio arrived to join me. At first we contemplated trying to drive back home on the spare (this was well over 150 miles) and to lighten the load we considered stashing the dumbbells in the weeds near the gas station (awesomely sporting the title "Beer Cave"). I figured I'd have to drive back down and get them sometime soon and we doubted that anyone would want to or be capable of stealing them. So Roadie Rob and Zane rolled the dumbbells out into the weeds before we realized both tires were blown and my car would have to be towed.

We now debated on the new best course of action. All of the BMW dealers in the area were closed, there was a Walmart with a tire service center in it close by, but I knew my tires were pretty rare and the odds of them having them in stock were pretty slim (and we soon confirmed they did not) so we decided to call a local tow company and have them hull my ride all the way back up to Michigan.

First, a cab pulls up and informs us that he is from the tow company and has come to survey the situation. He looks and sounds like it's more likely that he is from rural West Virginia or Kentucky rather than Ohio, but after we explain what's going on, he gets on his phone and tells them that we're going to need a decent-sized tow truck to get us back home. He then proceeds to hop in his cab and peel out - tires squealing and all and soon another similar, but somewhat smaller comrade of his pulls up in the tow truck.

At this point we had to go get the dumbbells out of the weeds since I really didn't want to leave them behind and we now had the tow truck to throw them on. So the tow truck driver hops out and looks to be the reigning title holder of Mr. Punyverse and he sees us carrying the dumbbells out of the weeds and looks at us with wide eyes like we are aliens from another planet. Mr. Punyverse proceeds to hook my car up and load it on the flatbed, all while looking incredibly nervous.

When are told that Mr. Punyverse is over his allotted driving time for the weekend and we will need to go back to the station to get a new driver before we can head home. So after chilling at the tow station for a while (and seeing many interesting employees including two inbred looking versions of Slim Shady) our new driver finally arrives and we get on our way. Now while the tow truck does have a back seat, it is more of an extended cab than a real back seat and Mike, Zane and Roadie Rob spend the next few hours looking like bloated sardines stuffed in a too small can. It now escapes me why I didn't take a picture of this.

And what makes this adventure even better, is that half way through our trip home, our driver decides to ask us (because of course all big guys are excellent sources of info on this) if buying steroids off the internet is a good idea. He then proceeds to tell us about how he has a couple of old bottles of test laying around and wants to know the best way to use it. This is all the honest truth, you really can't make this stuff up.


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