Smokin'

It's Monday morning and I'm sitting in the waiting room in our local repair shop smelling like burned rubber. On my way to the terminal a few hours ago I noticed something in my mirror I'd never seen before: a cloud of smoke coming out of my drive wheels. I pulled into the plaza parking lot next to me and parked next to a small mountain of snow, which I proceeded to throw on the offending rims by the handful. They sizzled like skillets. I kept it up for a while and waited a while longer. While I was trying to cool them down from overheating I was also trying to warm them up so that whatever part of them had frozen up would release. I parked the truck at an angle so the morning sun would shine down in the narrow space between the tires and the frame. (The sun is the solution to so many wintertime problems.) Whether from the heat of the sun or of the hot brakes themselves, they eventually released, and the smoke eventually subsided, so I decided it was safe to try to drive a few miles up the road to the shop. I want to have everything checked out before I head out of town with a load.

Lesson learned: Don't drive on frozen brakes in hopes of warming them up and thawing them out. Park them in the sun and come back later. Don't drive on them. Okay? Okay.