Detore: Nothing tireless about these distant adventures

During a whirlwind week when I experienced one city with cobblestone streets and another makeshift city with streets of ice and snow — as well as a temperature swing of 90 degrees or more — there seemed to be one common denominator.

Tires.

When you're the editor of a publication that chronicles tires, that certainly seems reasonable.

I spent the last weekend of January networking with a dedicated group of tire dealers, members of the Point S Tire & Automotive Service USA. Nearly two years after holding its last dealer conference, the marketing cooperative assembled on the warm, sunny island of Puerto Rico.

Attendees had to take great pains to get there: Not only did some dealers have to take flights with two stops, all attendees had to be fully vaccinated and present a negative COVID test, performed no more than 48 hours in advance, in order to enter the U.S. territory.

Tires were the topic of the event, of course — not only in terms of sales (Point S has doubled sales in just five years) — but also with new products, new incentives and new initiatives, all designed to help the independent tire dealer succeed.

Many Point S dealers also got to tour Old San Juan, the walled city filled with cobblestone streets, quaint shops and stunning churches with enough history to fill a textbook.

The following weekend, I found myself 2,100 miles away from the sun and sand, in the wind and cold of northern Ontario, Canada.

This excursion, however, was completely personal. After making veiled threats each of the last few years to try ice fishing, the time had finally come.

This trip, too, came with its share of obstacles, the most powerful of which was named Landon — the massive winter storm that dumped ice and snow Feb. 3-4 across the Midwest and Northeast, particularly Ohio.

Langdon forced us to delay our trip for a few days. It would be challenging enough to make the 540-mile drive to the southern shore of Lake Nipissing in the dead of winter, without having to worry about the megastorm.

Two more COVID tests later (I had to retake the initial test in order to have a negative test within 72 hours of entry), I crossed the border into Canada, nervously excited about fishing on a frozen lake. The forecast called for a high of minus 3 degrees with wind chills much colder.

Ice fishing was so much different than I had imagined. The 4-mile trip to the shanty was similar to a hayride, only colder, and instead of a tractor pulling us, it was a snowmobile. The tarp protected us from the elements.

It was quite an experience to be fishing through an 8-inch hole in the middle of a lake I know well, in a t-shirt and snowpants, with a propane heater nearby, sipping coffee while chatting with friends, some old, others new.

And the walleye — or pickerel as they call them there — were biting frequently enough to keep us entertained. I was lucky to catch and land a decent-sized pike, maneuvering its head through the hole in the ice while avoiding his mouthful of teeth.

There are worse ways to pass the time.

Oh yes, tires.

One of my new Canadian friends had driven his 2020 Ford F250 6.7-liter diesel truck there, hauling three snowmobiles. While he loved the vehicle, he was upset that his OE tires were worn out, after just 46,000 kilometers (28,500 miles) of use.

We discovered just how slick they really were.

The truck became stuck in a snowy ice pack, atop snowmobile tracks, unable to make its way up a slight incline. After some furious shoveling, rocking and pushing, the truck finally was set free.

Tires, you see, were an integral part of each weekend.

Which reminds me, ... it's time for a rotation on my vehicle. This weekend, perhaps?