April 17
This was one of those days we have been secretly waiting for--the “what if something really awful happens” kind of day. It’s Saturday. We had just stopped at the last service area in Germany to purchase our “vignette” that allows us to travel in Austria and automatically collect tolls. We were less than 12 miles from our campground destination when we heard loud repeated banging that just couldn’t be something simple. David looked in the rearview mirror and saw something large and black lying on the pavement behind us. We pulled over on the Austrian equivalent of the autobahn and very quickly were able to figure out that one of the right rear tires had just lost its tread. Remarkably, we were within 50 yards of a emergency road phone, so David put on the obligatory safety vest, set up the obligitory warning triangles, called for help (“Ich bin Amerikaner. Sprechen Sie Englishe, bitte?” “Ja, gewiss.”) and was able to pull the large piece of steel belted tire from the roadway.
Within about 20 minutes a young man who said he had followed our motorhome in Germany came to offer assistance. He had exited the highway at the next exit and drove around next to where we were and came through the bushes to ask if he could help. He knew we were very close to the exit to Wörgl and he also knew where there was a tire store in town. While we were talking to him a tow truck appeared, and it was decided that since we still had one good rear tire, we should try to drive into the town and park by the tire store until Monday morning. So with the young man showing the way, flashers going, with the tow truck following, we drove to the tire store and parked behind it, off the busy street.
This was not where we had expected to spend the weekend. But the gracious help of this young man was wonderful. (“Your German is very good,” he said, lying through his teeth; “welcome to Austria.”)