On my adventures things generally go according to plan.
Until they don’t.
On a recent trip to the Pantanal we experienced a very ordinary flat tire while we were out in the middle of the wilderness.
Having a flat tire is not a problem as long as your vehicle has the basic maintenance items like, ya know, a tire jack and a spare tire.
Spare Tire – CHECK!
Tire Jack – CHECK!
Not so fast, this tire jack was busted.
Thus, it was time to MacGyver some kind of shitty tire jack based on items that could be scavenged in the wilderness of the Pantanal!
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The best items, and the only human made items, that we could rig up were a few boards and a block of wood that we found at a bridge that was under repair.
We got the boards and block of wood assembled into a makeshift ramp. Then, we drove the flat-ass tire onto the ramp.
Problem: a ramp isn’t a jack – it’s a ramp.
The flat-ass tire just sat on the ramp and we had no way to lift the vehicle to get the tire off. We still needed something that was akin to a jack.
Hmmm, how about that broken jack? Maybe if we f’ed with the jack a little we could get it to work?
We collected the broken jack, some random liquids we found in the van, and poured it into the jack. Why? How the f*** should I know? Maybe to get some hydraulic pressure going? Sure, let us go with that.
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Needless to say that the random liquids poured into the jack did not bring it back to life. That bitch was dead. D-E-D dead!
With no solution in sight and the prospect of spending the night in the wilderness looming we decided that the most productive thing that we could do at the moment was hot Pantanal yoga.
After some yoga it was time for pictures. Did I mention that it was HOT yoga? Check out those sweat marks!
I SAID LOOK AT THEM!!!
[adinserter name=”Block 3″]
With hot yoga over and no solution to the flat-ass tire issue it seemed only reasonable that we now kill and eat each other. I started to size up one of the guides that I thought might make a nice meal when, wouldn’t you know it, a car showed up on this desolate road.
Remember that bridge that we looted to make that shitty ramp? The foreman came back to check on it. Whoops, we looted your project, homey.
The foreman had a cell signal and called one of his employees to come out and help us out. The dude showed up with a jack, we fixed the flat, and we got on our sweaty way.
And the moral of the story is that before you fall to killing and eating your traveling companions maybe at least wait a full hour before you do so. Mmmm, Brazilian food!!
The End.