Chain, Dechain, Rechain

I don't think it stopped snowing the entire time we were in Tahoe this past weekend. Someone turned on the snow machine and refused to turn it off. Great for skiing; not ideal for driving a timid white '94 Honda Accord named Roy.

We had chains for the tires with us because we're no fools. Had either of us ever actually used chains before? Yeah, not so much.

We made it into Tahoe on Friday night without having to face the mystery of snow chains, but on the drive out to Kirkwood Saturday morning they had the chain patrol out making sure people put them on. So we pulled over to the turnout and strapped the chains around the front tires, rushing to fasten the hooks before our fingers became too numb from the cold to function. Chains: on!

We pulled out onto the road and immediately heard a slapping noise with each rotation of the wheel on the right. It was a bad sound. We pulled back over.

I went and fussed with it and we tried again.

Slapping sound - worse this time. By the time we stopped half the chain was wrapped around the axel and it was all looking extremely wrong. I untangled it and fastened it carefully again, and then held my breath as we drove away: sweet silence. We made it to the mountain and back on Saturday without further incident. Chains: no problem!

Then, Sunday morning, driving back out to the mountain (it is 30 miles of windy snowy mountain road, max speed 25 mph with chains on) we (read = Eric) got a little impatient and went faster than the chains can really go. One of the cross-pieces of the chain, the part that provides the traction to the tires, snapped and start flapping wildly around, hitting the car and making a very unsettling noise. We immediately pull over as far to the side of the small road as we can get, but unfortunately for everyone behind us it isn't an actual turnout. I didn't count how many people gave us the finger but it was at least several.

After examining the broken chain we decide that one chained tire is probably worse than none, so we throw caution to the wind and remove both chains. Off we go.

Until we get to the next chain patrol. They insist we put our chains back on.

Out once again come the chains: one intact, one with a bad hangnail that is threatening to do a lot of damage to the tire and the car. We have no tools with us but - lo - we do have: duct tape (aka duck tape). We taped the loose piece to the side of the chain, said a small non-deity-specific prayer, restrapped on the chains, and off we went.

I'm pretty sure we were the only people out there that day with duct tape holding our chains together. Resourceful? Definitely. Did we ski a full day? We sure did. Was it foolish or brilliant: you decide.