Jacking up the tire was worth a try. It was too late to have a mechanic fix the leak, and if I took pressure off the wheel, perhaps enough air would remain by morning to allow me to drive to a tire shop instead of mounting the spare myself. Unfortunately, the wheel gave out a persistent hiss all evening, and by the next morning the tire was as soft as a marshmellow. Postponing labor this time hadnít paid off, but after getting the spare in place, I realized I might as well resume plans to backpack North Cascade National Parkís Copper Ridge and worry about patching the punctured tire later. I felt guilty about leaving my Jeep sitting wounded in northern Washington for three days, but sometimes the itch to hit the trail overrides my sense of empathy.