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By the time I'd hit Reno, Nevada, about 7,500 miles into my trip, it was time to crash. My buddy Cody, a long time rancher (read: pulls horses and equipment on trailers all the time) quickly schooled me on trailering and trailer tires. I had three out of five tires that weren't worth spit. So, we put two new tires on the trailer and Cody helped me build a trailer ramp, which made changing tires on a loaded trailer way less scary than using the stock Grand Cherokee jack.

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