On May 21, 2025 from 10:30 to 12:15 I was declared “the luckiest man alive” by TWO different men, at TWO different times.
And having lived through it, to tell the tale, … it was easy to agree with them! What’s not so easy to explain in writing is the how. I told Jen on a video chat last night. If it wasn’t for the simple fact, she’s my girlfriend, I don’t she would’ve believed me.
That said, if you DO KNOW me then you know there’s a story. And here it is.
It’s A Brake Warp
Sorry Rocky Horror Picture Show fans … it’s NOT “the time warp”. After pulling an U-haul trailer, and driving the Millennium Subaru through 1,500 miles of various terrains including mountain passes, that literally trashed the brake rotors. Especially the front brakes.
[fast forward a couple of weeks]
Principal Jen’s brother, Michael, offered to assist me with the brake job. We managed to address the front brakes but not the rear. In our process though, the front left, brake bracket bolts were only hand-tightened. This will be relevant later …
Several days later, on Wednesday, I started to hear a wicked grinding sound from the front left area of the Millennium Subaru. Especially, when traveling at 65mph – 70mph on Interstate 405 Southbound!
I exited immediately, which happened to be Exit 26 for Canyon Park. My destination was the site of the Brown Bag Cafe in Kirkland. I’ll be lucky if I get this parked correctly. I continued towards Kirkland but on surface streets and lower speeds to “feel this out”.
After a couple more miles, and turns, I decided to park it.
NOW WHAT?!
I grumbled to myself, “Now what, Mr. Bayne? You’re miles away from home. You either repair whatever it is or tow it to a shop that can. You really don’t have time for any of this. As usual!”
Luckily, I had my torque wrench in the car because I was to tighten the lugnuts 20-25 miles after being driven. Stupidly though, I didn’t have a 19mm socket. Again, luckily an O’Reilly Auto Parts Store was located only 2.6 miles away. I ordered up a Lyft driver, Utey, which was only 4 minutes away! He drove me there post haste.
I rolled up to the counter. I requested from the red haired, auto tech behind the counter, 19mm socket, perhaps even an extension. I lamented, “Even after using an impact wrench on the lug nuts, I think they’re loose.”
He didn’t believe me.
“That’s kinda odd, friend,” he mentioned. “Good luck, regardless.” I ordered another Lyft to drive me back. Again, only a few minutes before I was in the back of a SUV, traveling back to the Millennium Subaru.
Ricardo introduced himself, “Only a couple miles away.”
“Might as well be the longest road, Ricardo,” I complained. “I changed my front brake pads and rotors over the weekend. However, the grinding sound from the front left tells me I forgot to torque them down after 25 miles of driving or so.”
I slumped into his leather backseat.
“Oh? Did you use an impact wrench once you replaced the wheel?” he pressed.
“Yeah, ” I grumbled. “Oh, well. I will figure out that grinding sound.”
“May I help?” he offered.
“Sure. I have said that collaborative efforts yield better results,” I accepted.
He chuckled a grip, “You’re in luck, Carlos. I’m a retired Sears Tire Shop employee of over 20 years. I have practically every tool we would need in the back.”
“HOLY $H.T! Really?” I exclaimed. “I would be eternally grateful.”
We arrived where I dropped a Google Maps ‘pin’. We hopped out with the confidence of two mechanics. We addressed the front right which was facing the sidewalk on this, suddenly busy as FAWK road in the sleepy housing development known as Westglen.
“I dunno Carlos,” Ricardo assessed. “These lug nuts are tight. Nothing unusual. Let’s remove the tire.” We removed the tire. Ricardo inspected the brake pads, brake rotors, etc. “HM. Nothing out of the ordinary. Again, the noise was coming from the front left. Yes?”
I nodded, and answered, “Yessir. Front left.”
We put the tire back on quickly with his battery powered impact wrench. We removed the tire, again the lug nuts seemed tight. Ricardo touched the brake bracket and it moved. “What the hell, ” he cried. “That’s not supposed to happen.” He quickly examined. “Did you not wrench down these bracket bolts, only hand screw?”
My throat immediately tighten.
“Michael and I may have been distracted, and in our process, we forgot to put a 17mm wrench to them. Why?”
Ricardo replied, “Well, one is missing completely which explains that rattling sound as it exited the vehicle. And the remaining bolt has almost backed itself out, it’s holding on with HOPE and PRAYER.”
“Oh, shit,” I recognized.
“You said you were traveling at freeway speeds when you heard the bracket and brake pads grinding against the wheel and whatnot?” Ricardo pressed. “You are the luckiest man alive, if so.”
“Luck seems to be the motif to the morning,” I remarked.
Ricardo joked, “Are you sure, you’re not a cat with nine lives?”
I steered the conversation back to the task at hand. “Would O’Reilly have that kind of bolt? A 17mm brake bracket bolt?”
He nodded yes. “They should. It’s fairly common. Just ensure it’s not any longer than the OEM. Otherwise, it’ll drag against the inside rotor and damage it.” He handed me the lucky bolt.
He instructed, “Listen. They will sell you a pair. Once you compare it, and it’s correct, use the two new bolts, and keep the old one as an example. Keep in the car or somewhere safe. Got it, Carlos?”
I answered enthusiastically, “Yessir. But what are the next steps?”
Ricardo guided me, “First we’re gonna put that bolt back on, tighten it, put on the tire. You’ll drive super slow to O’Reilly. No more than 10-15mph. I will follow behind you. I’ve gotta go that direction anyway. Once you are safely at O’Reilly Auto Parts, I will be on my way.”
“You’re an automotive angel, Ricardo.” I gratefully replied. “Let’s do this.”
TIRES, and BOLTS and NUTS, OH MY!
We arrived without further incident aside from the honking, and a few drivers passing us. Ricardo gave me a final wave goodbye, as I walked back into the O’Reilly Auto Parts Store AGAIN.
The dude behind the counter, who happened to be a redhead, chuckled, “Was it the lugnuts?”
“No, sir,” I replied. “Tight as a clam. However, I did find the grinding sound. Loose brake bracket bolts.”
“I’ve got you. What’s the year, make and model of your vehicle again?”
To The Millennium Subaru!
As advised, I was sold a pair of bracket brake bolts by O’Reilly’s. I looked over to the adjacent parking lot to see 3 minivans, and 4 men talking amongst themselves. They seemed to be repairing vehicles in the McDonald’s parking lot versus O’Reilly’s.
As I was loosening the final lug nut, a small shadow was cast upon my work area. Like a microphone boom, a metal tube was placed in sight with the words from a heavily accented, gravel male voice, “Here. Take this bar. Make work easier.”
I peered up to see a cigarette smoking, older than me mechanic with grease on his face, and outstretched hands. I retrieved it from him with gratitude, “Thank you.”
I am proud of myself. I utilized the plastic rear trunk tray as my work blanket so I didn’t scratch myself on the asphalt parking lot. I struggled mightily for the next 15 minutes to align the holes of the brake bracket to the back of brake rotor.
That same shadow appeared over me again. His Ukrainian / Eastern European accent voice was heard. “I am Doc. Here to help.”
I smiled. “Ok, Doc.”
He methodically laid out the instructions. “Get in car. Turn on car. SLOWLY turn the steering wheel to the right, hand over hand. Turn off car, ” he paused. “Go ahead. I’ll watch.”
I clamored up and into the vehicle. I did as instructed and HOW he wanted me to do it. I witnessed him ash his cigarette before throwing up his hands towards his McDonald’s audience.
“SHUT THE FAWK UP!” he barked. “Doc is helping everyone. You’re fine, go back to doing nothing” as he walked back to his minivan repairs.
I was able to align the holes in heartbeat. I murmured, “Thank you again, Doc.” I wrenched down HARD with my newly purchased tools the bolts. “There, muthafawker.”
I was texting Jen the entire time but she was at work during HELL MONTH known only as May so I didn’t want to be bothersome yet informative. I ‘treated’ myself to trays of self-serve food at Ranch 99 near the house prior to work.
I’m still am the luckiest man alive. Not because of escaping death one more time, but because of her: Jen Welch.
los, Fil-Am Renaissance Man 