So there we were, tooling along a single carriageway in our little Citroen C4 Picasso, having fun on the twisties as we headed to Windermere. Somewhere along the way to Kirkstone Pass Becky found her Highland Cow posing for photos and got her "must have" picture. Having cleared the pass and running downhill, all was going well until some evil undergound British gremlin chucked a rock (well actually it would be considered a small stone to most full-sized cars with real tires and wheels) onto the road. Could be Becky was supposed to leave some offering to the local forest creatures for taking her photo and one of them got ticked off, but who knows. Of course there was no shoulder to swerve to and a car in the opposite lane, so we just drove over it. As a result, one of the mini-tires on the Picasso was dislodged from the rim and our journey came to an abrupt halt in a pullover high above the valley floor. Since this was evidently considered a normal occurrence, no one, including two police vehicles, bothered to stop and offer assistance. After Avis finally located us on a map and made the necessary arrangements, the tow truck arrived in about two hours, but with only room for one person. Another hour and a half later, he returned with a larger truck, drove us to Lancaster for a vehicle exchange and another hour later our adventure continued.

The Demise of Pablo No. 1