Hillsdale — So there I was, cruising through beautiful farmland at an easy 55 mph. I put on “American Pie” by Don McLean and basked in the glory of Michigan summer. “What a perfect day for a drive through beautiful Hillsdale county,” I thought to myself. How naive I was.
Suddenly, I felt the car wobbling. Just as I started to brake, I looked out the driver’s side window to find a tire—my tire!—soaring along the road next to me. I braked harder and watched the great black donut barrel ahead with a mind of its own. It bobbled through the bushes on the other side of the road, bounced a few times on the scorched yellow grass, and then come to a stop smack dab in the front yard of an innocent family’s home.
On the gravel shoulder, I put on my flashers, got out of the car, and stepped out into the sweltering weather to evaluate the situation. The tire had indeed blown right off. All that was left was the rim. A woman pulled off to tell me she saw it wobbling for a few seconds before it broke free. She was just as surprised as I was.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the grass, trying to decide if I wanted to change this thing myself or call someone. A moment later, a beat-up truck pulled over. The driver emerged with no shirt and a shaved head. He kindly helped me push the car off the shoulder, told me he had seen people get killed here, and explained that he would have helped change the tire but he was already late for a court hearing.
I thanked him and wished him the best of luck on his hearing, and just as he was speeding off, he leaned out the window and told me to call Artesian Wells Garage.
Half-an-hour later, a red truck pulled up from the garage. After wrestling the tire from under the back paneling in the trunk, jacking up the car, putting the spare on, waiting as mechanic Paul filled the donut up with air because it was all but flat, and paying the meager $65 fee plus a $10 tip, I was back on the road again. I set off for Discount Tire in Jackson.
There they informed me that I needed all four tires replaced. This is standard procedure with all-wheel drive vehicles I suppose. After weighing the various options they presented, I ended up going with the moderate choice, not the cheapest nor the priciest. It was settled. I swiped my card and watched an $833.32 charge hit my American Express app.
We all kind of love to complain about the terrible roads in Michigan. It’s one of our beloved defeatist pastimes. Sitting around the table complaining and debating about which stretch of road is full of the most potholes, which one will wreck your alignment the fastest, and which group of road commission workers work the slowest, is Michigan culture.
But the the humor only goes so far. We only laugh to soothe ourselves, because at the end of the day, that’s what you do. You cry or you laugh. Take your pick.
But the terrible roads aren’t funny. It isn’t a great gag when your alignment is screwed up because the government can’t do its job. It isn’t a laugh when stray pebbles spray up from the poorly patched concrete, threatening to crack your windshield every other day.
It may have been a little funny watching the tire depart my car, roll along the road, and then bounce into someone’s yard. But it wouldn’t have been funny if a kid was in that yard. And it wasn’t funny once I stepped outside onto the shoulder and found myself staring at a screwed up wheel with no rubber left on the hottest day of the year with a four-hour trip back north ahead of me.
The terrible state of the roads in Hillsdale County—and much of Michigan—is a clear indictment against the state. It’s a failure of governance. It’s the state’s responsibility to maintain its roads to a reasonable degree so its residents can get from Point A to Point B safely and reliably. This is the bare minimum requirement. If the state can’t do this basic job, what can they do?
When the roads are bad, your car gets damaged. And who pays for the bill at the garage? The State of Michigan? Fat chance.
We are the ones who pay. We Michiganders are the saps, the dupes, the ones losing money. It’s a textbook example of a dysfunctional state abdicating its responsibilities and transferring the financial burden onto its citizens.
They say Hillsdale county has the worst roads in Michigan. I don’t know every detail about the statistics that corroborate the claim, but I know that I’ve only been to Hillsdale County once in my entire life, and I left with a blown-out tire and a bill for $833.32.
O.W. Root is a writer based in Northern Michigan, with a focus on nature, food, style, and culture. Follow him on X @NecktieSalvage.
