I am on a mission four hours north of Toronto and six kilometres down a forest-lined sideroad. Deep enough into bush country that I have to brake for a moose standing on the edge of the road.
The mission is to find a new front tire for my 2010 New Holland tractor which is not yet one year old. I wrecked the tire while doing some work on my bush lot. No problem. Remove wheel, bring into a shop and get a new tire. Put on. Not quite.
After five days, no one is able to help me. The tire manufacturer used by New Holland is out of business. No one can suggest a suitable replacement. It seems obvious now that I will spend the rest of my life with an expensive, and useless, three-wheel tractor.
Diane refuses to give up, dialing shop after shop in hopes of hitting someone who likes a challenge, is interested, and willing to help. Bingo! We hit a woman who confirms I have a big problem, but she will help solve it. She is about to close so I said I’d be at her doorstep first thing in the morning. Turns out I confuse her location with a town close to where I live. In fact, her shop is almost three hours north of where I assumed it was.
So, we are threading our way through the forest road, watching for more moose, when we see a sign on tree reading: Gilroy Tire. We continue, and find the tire shop is a house in the bush with a large side garage. My heart sinks. No home operation in the bush is going to find a specialty tire that the big boys have ruled out.
|Back working thanks to Gilroy|
Inside the garage, two guys are busy working on a tire the size of the moose I just saw. Another customer arrives seeking two tires on rims. The place is getting busy but I’m not sure why because there is nothing around but bush.
Through a doorway I find a tiny office. There is the bright and busy woman I spoke to on the phone. She has a computer, telephone headset, and rows of books showing more tires than I knew existed. It soon becomes evident that she would be an asset in any executive office in downtown Toronto.
As we talk, in comes Laurie Gilroy, the owner. In an instant I see that he is as action-oriented as she is. Between the two of them I am out of there in less than an hour with the exact size tire I need (but not quite same tread). They also have laid out options for me getting a tire with a tread to match the wrecked one. In the meantime, my tractor is mobile again.
As I wind my way back down the forested road, eyes peeled for moose, three things come to mind:
1. How many times do I need to be reminded that looks are deceiving?
2. Country people get things done.
3. Why are people like this not running the government?