Turkey, Chicken, Duck and other Fowl Words

 Living in a rural area comes with it's share of challenges. One of those challenges is crappy roads. Another challenge is crap left IN THE MIDDLE of the crappy roads. 

The Queen left home at 5:50AM early last week to head to her newish part time job. She was not gone five minutes before the phone rang, and she indicated she had a flat tire. I asked where she was; and, before I could get her location out of her, she indicated that all 4 tires were still inflated after all but that something was making a racket. I told her to come back home, and I'd meet her outside to see what's what. 

The road we live on is straight as an arrow, and I can see almost all the way down to the intersection with the main drag about a half mile away. I stood at the end of the driveway; and, from the time I could see her headlights, I could hear something smacking the asphalt rythymically all the way back to me. 

And what did I find my curious eyes behold when The Queen came to a stop?

Well...that's not good. I wasn't awake enough to deal with that before sunrise. So, The Queen took my truck, and I set about scratching my head, grumbling under my breath and breaking out my floor jack. Fortunately, I am a smart fart that knows to buy road hazard certificates on his tires. So, I loaded the wheel and tire into the back of my mother's car and dropped it off at Discount Tire during lunch. They had it fixed before I even made it back to the house. 

I went through the same area where The Queen got her "flat" later in the day. I say "flat" because it actually held air pretty well despite having a spark plug sticking out of it. THIS is what I found scattered around the main intersection in our little town. 

Knowing how things operate around here, someone left a box of junk in the bed of their truck or sitting in their bumper when it bounced out at just the right moment to land in the path of The Queen's Chariot. 

It wasn't even a few days later when I got another call from The Queen. It seems that The Queen had found herself another object in the middle of the road. This time it happened on her way to the store. Fortunately for me, it was after work and daylight still. Even more fortunately, the temperatures had dropped down into the high 90s instead of the mid 110s they were the previous week. So, I grab my floor jack, mechanic gloves and a few other odds and ends that I knew might be helpful before heading off to town to change a tire. I arrived to find this. 

Bugger. Fortunately for me (again) it was approaching sundown, and the truck was parked in the shade cast by a building to the west. There was a faint breeze that helped the temps just a little. It took a little bit of doing to find all the fiddly bits to get get the truck jacked up (the flat had dropped the front end so much that my floor jack would not clear the bumper), the spare dropped, etc. Another small blessing was that the spare still had plenty of air (70 PSI out of a max of 80 PSI) despite being the original spare (with a 2012 date code). I keep an air pump in the truck just in case. 

Now I just need to find my plug kit and remove whatever the Hell that is so I can put my good Michelin back where it belongs. I'm going to have to mount magnets in front of my tires if this keeps up. 

More Adventures in Automotive Repair

6 groove belt decided it really identified as a 4 groove belt

Back in September, I was getting the family SUV ready for a road trip when I discovered that the drive belt (what we used to call a fan belt back in the day) when I discovered, for the second year in a row, that the drive belt was getting eaten. It was a little further along the path to destruction this time, and I'm reasonably sure that it would have come apart at the most inconvenient of times in the middle of nowhere late at night. Fortunately, I had a spare in the back (which I now need to replace come to think of it). 

The next set of photos come from an OOPS moment brought on by one to the stupidest trends: lowered and "stanced" cars. Late August/Early September, we went to our favorite breakfast place (Seven Mile Cafe in Highland Village...freaking amazing pancakes especially the cinnamon swirl pancake). Anyidiot, as we are pulling into the parking lot, I see the Black Scion pictured below limping into a parking spot dragging the rear bumper cover and grinding the frame on the pavement. 

Since I didn't see the precipitating event, I can only speculate. However, based on the damage and the drag marks in the pavement, it appears to me that the car was equipped with an aftermarket air bag suspension to get over bumps in the road like acorns and pieces of paper. It appeared to me that the air pump in the suspension failed as they were exiting the car wash next door resulting in the bumper cover getting yanked off and forcing them to grind their way to a parking spot. 

Now, I have nothing against people modifying their cars as long as it does not present a safety hazard to the general public. You do you. The modifications here, in my opinion, represent a safety hazard that should be confined to a show car or a track car as opposed to a street car. First, the suspension modifications make it difficult to go up and down even slight grades, speed bumps, etc. as evidenced by the rear bumper cover being torn off in a parking lot that normal cars have no problems with. The air bags are great....when they work. Unfortunately, they add in additional failure points that do not exist with the stock set up. 

Second, the wheels and tires. Using wider tires for more grip is an age old racing trick. Using tires that are a size or two too small for the rims...not so much. Lowering the suspension to the point that you have the wheel hubs have to be at canted to max camber angles eliminates the benefit of wider tires (specifically more contact patch on the road). There's the uneven tire wear to consider. And, most importantly, you can float that sucker in heavy rains no matter how much tread you have on the tires. Let's also not forget the damage to the frame. After grinding off whatever frame coating Toyota uses, the frame is now exposed to the elements and will rust if you spit in it's general direction. I wouldn't be surprised if that frame were to buckle in 3 to 5 years. 

Bottom line, don't do this kind of stuff and then use it as a daily driver. If you've got that much extra cash burning a hole in your pocket, invest in a truck and trailer to haul it to events if you need that much attention in your life. 

Lessons from an Amateur Shade Tree Mechanic

As I have written in these pages before, I love to tinker on things and work with my hands. I’ve been working on my own stuff since I was old enough to hold a wrench. Sometimes with amusing results. As I’ve gotten older and more experienced, my efforts have become more successful and less amusing. More often than not, things actually work like they are supposed to and stay fixed until something else breaks. With that in mind, I thought I would share some insights and hard learned lessons I’ve picked up over the years.

1)     Use the right tool for the job – As tempting as it is to use a pair of channel locks or a blow torch on a stuck nut or an SAE socket/wrench on a Metric fastener (or vice versa), don’t do it. You will cause yourself needless aggravation and ruin the nut (and possibly more than that). Trust me when I say that it is cheaper to go buy the correct wrench or even a set of wrenches than to spend hours tracking down, ordering and waiting for some out of state parts house to ship that one bolt you need after you [insert stupid human trick here] and destroyed it.

2)    Get the best tools you can afford- Yes, good tools cost money, but you do not have to spend Snap On tool truck prices to build up a decent set of tools that will last you a lifetime. I still have the no name socket set someone gave me years ago, and it still gets work done. I have since added other tools including some Harbor Freight made in China specials and some “brand name” tools (also made in China ironically). Start with a basic set of sockets and wrenches and work your way up from there. Compare the cost of having your project “done by professionals” versus the cost of doing it yourself. Spend the difference on buying tools. Keep an eye on the big box stores around major holidays. They almost always run a sale on tool sets in the $75 to $150 range. Those are a bargain when you compare what you get versus what you’d pay for the collection separately. Check Craigslist, FaceBook Market, Offer Up, and local pawn shops for deals on expensive tools you want to have but for which you can’t justify paying full price. Also, remember that limited use and specialty tools can be rented or borrowed. Just remember that those tools are rented to sticky fingered nephews and Opas who don’t always take care of them. I had to borrow a harmonic balancer puller from AutoZone a while back. It was almost unsuable because some gormless ape had bent the freaking kit bolts I needed to mount the puller to my truck. We made it work, barely.

3)     Take care of your tools – This SHOULD be a no brainer really. Don’t leave your tools out in the rain to rust, make sure you wipe them down when your done with them, don’t use your combination wrench as a hammer, don’t loan your tools to people who don’t treat them properly (I’m looking at you Opa) or your sticky fingered nephews, etc.

4)     Start small and work your way up from there – just learning to change your own oil or change the brake pads on your car can save you a lot of money long term, give you a sense of pride and teach you valuable lessons in the process.

5)     Work smarter not harder – while diving right in, unbolting everything in sight and making a royal mess of things can be quite entertaining, it is not always the most efficient method or a guaranteed path to success. Take a few minutes to look at a manual, watch a YouTube video, etc. and learn a thing or two. A word of warning, paper manuals are good but have their limitations. Haynes and Chilton manuals typically address a range of model years and options and may not have the specific photos or description of the particular thing on which you are working. AllData is a bit better as it is year and model specific, but it also assumes a bit more experience and knowledge upfront. I used to have the full set of factory service manuals for the 1973 Ford Thunderbird from which it was possible to assemble a complete car. Factory manuals are probably the best option, but getting a hold of them is pricey and not as easy as other options. I would only do that for a classic car I was restoring from the ground up as a show car.

6)     A garage or shop space is a huge plus – in this day and age of everyone accumulating stuff and storing all the excess in their garages (if they even have a garage), I cannot emphasize enough how nice it is to be able to work on a vehicle in a place with a smooth, level concrete floor, out of the wind/rain/snow/sun, etc. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had to put projects on hold because it was raining/hailing/the temperature of the sun’s outhouse outside. Since I do not have a garage at my current residence and the allegedly paved driveway could charitably be called “off road”, it makes for some interesting maintenance experiences.

7)     You have to be able to get the vehicle off the ground to work on it. A good quality jack stands and a 3 ton floor jack should be considered a bare minimum for working on your car. Ramps are helpful too. If you can afford a lift, they are worth every penny. I really wish I had one.

8)     Don’t trust everything you read on the internet – this also should be a given. Go on any car forum, and you will find contradictory information…sometimes in the same post as back to back comments. Setting gaskets is my favorite. Word of advise: do what the manufacture of the gasket says to do not what some hick on the internet says.

9)     If you have everything apart, it really pays to go ahead and replace other things in reach while you are already there. I’m mean you’ve done the work. Why would you want to do it twice or four times? For instance, when replacing the radiator on The Queen’s chariot, a smart husband would have gone ahead and replaced the AC Condenser/Power Steering Cooler while he was there. Guess who is not a smart husband? To be fair, you won’t always have the cash to do everything that needs doing; but, when you can, go ahead and save yourself some time and headaches. Especially if you have a higher mileage vehicle. For instance, the second time I had the front end of The Queen’s chariot pulled apart, I went ahead and changed the water pump, thermostat and thermostat housing while I was at it. On the truck (which has two fuel pumps one of which died), I went ahead and replaced both pumps since it was easier to remove the bed than it was to drop both fuel tanks. If you have to pull the transmission for any reason, you might as well go ahead and pull the flywheel too and change the rear main seal on the engine as that is a common failure point for oil leaks. 

10) Quality costs money – The old saying about buy once cry once really does apply to car parts and tools. I’m not saying don’t buy cheap parts (because sometimes that’s all you can afford), but I am saying that you will get better results by doing a little research and paying for the best quality parts you can afford. That $40 no name part from China you bought off eBay from someone with a poor grasp of the English language might last 5 minutes or 500,000 miles. You never know. What I do know from personal experience is that, when that $40 no name piece of junk craps the bed a month before the alleged warranty expires, you are out of luck getting a replacement under warranty from Uncle Chen and his goofy nephew Wang. I’d much rather deal with a North American company who will at least try to play by the rules.

11) Full Synthetic Oil and Extended Life Oil Filters are worth the money.

12) For modern OBDII cars, buy a scan tool. Even a cheap one. I picked up the Blue Driver scan tool which connects to my phone via Bluetooth for about $100. Best money I’ve spent on a tool for diagnostic purposes. You can spend insane money on these things; but, unless you intend to go pro or get deep into the weeds of reprograming your ECU, there is a point of diminishing returns. A good tool will tell you what the check engine codes means and the most likely fixes. They do have their limitations though. They can’t tell you anything for which a sensor is not connected. For instance, The Queen’s Chariot had, at one time, a distressing habit of shorting out the number 5 coil. That code is P0305 on the chariot. Okay, pull an electrical connector, remove one small bolt, pull the bad coil, insert new coil, reinstall the bolt and connector, and done. Until a few days later when the code pops again. What the…??? Now, we have to go digging deeper. Upon inspection, I notice the coil/spark plug well has liquid in it. Liquid and electrical components do not play Bueno together. My first thought was that The Queen had barreled head long into a deep puddle at speed. Problem was that it had not rained recently and she denied turning the chariot into a submarine. So, there are precious few sources of liquid under the hood, and the pendulum of possibilities swings over pretty quickly to the worst case and most expensive scenario which is a cracked head. Before panicking too much, I started the car to see if there were any obvious signs of a leak. Good thing I did as I discovered that the heater hose had a pin hole leak in it directly over cylinder 5’s spark plug well. It was spritzing a very small stream of coolant into the well but wasn’t a big enough hole to be a visible leak when the coolant system was not under pressure. Replaced the heater hose and the coil (again). Problem solved.

13) Corollary to # 12, work simple/cheap to hard/expensive. If you hear hoof beats, think horses not zebras. In rare cases it will be cows or wildebeasts; but, generally, shaving with Occam’s Razor will get you better results than rebuilding the engine every time a check engine light comes on.

14) If you find yourself in over your head, stop digging. There is no shame in asking for help.

15) Take photos and notes as you go. You will thank yourself later when you forget how the alternator is supposed to be mounted or something simple gets misplaced. Being methodical about your work will pay huge dividends later. I tend to be pretty anal about laying out bolts in the order and pattern they came out of the car so I know how they are supposed to go back in. It’s not always possible when you are disassembling a lot of stuff to get to a $20 part with only 2 bolts holding it in the car. Do the best you can and go slow. There are no trophies for finishing a repair quickly if you have left over or buggered up parts.

16) It’s a good idea to double check your work to make sure you didn’t miss something small. When I replaced the AC Condenser/Power Steering Cooler on the chariot, I might have forgotten to tighten a hose fitting or two. Cleaning up a copious amount of power steering fluid that sprayed all over the engine bay was no fun but served as an excellent reminder to not skip over the small stuff.  

17) Engineers are sadists who get perverse thrills off making it difficult to work on cars. The design folks don’t help by insisting that everything “look pretty”. My mother had one of the first Hyundai’s imported to the US back in 1986. Engineers thought it would be cute to put the oil filter above the front sway bar, under the alternator and covered over with a splash guard that had a hole in it in the exact size and shape of the oil filter. Unsuspecting neophyte grease monkeys might think it possible to remove the oil filter by that particular orifice. Don’t believe it. It’s a trap. A monkey trap to be specific. Knowing what I know now, the secret is to remove the splash guard and create the room you need to access the things that need to be changed.

I’m sure there are other things I’m forgetting, but this will do for now. Enjoy.

Adventures in Car Repair - The Video Edition

 

Further Adventures in Car Repair - Update

So, once upon a time (just a few short years ago), I had the transmission on my truck professionally rebuilt by a reputable shop. Everything worked fine right up until I had to park it a while back to take care of a pair of recalcitrant fuel pumps and assorted other maintenance tasks that needed doing. As such, this is not a post in which I will be bagging on the transmission shop. Their workmanship is not in question here. 

Having said that, never assume that a shop did their work correctly. They offer warranties for a reason. As Reagan said, "Trust, but verify."

As mentioned in a previous post, the most recent test drive efforts revealed the transmission pan was leaking automatic transmission fluid (ATF - the stuff that looks like cherry koolaid when it's new and day old coffee when it's neglected) like a medicated St. Bernard. Now, there is no good reason for a freshly and professionally rebuilt transmission to be leaking after less than 10,000 miles of driving. Unfortunately, it has taken far longer than I would have liked to find time to go tracking down the source of the leak. 

The first thing you need to do when investigating an automotive problem is to try an figure out the source and/or cause of said problem. Examination of the transmission filler tube/dipstick holder showed no visible evidence of cracks or leaks. Ditto for the transmission cooler lines. That's a plus. Looking at what was sitting directly above the large pool of what used to be ATF on the driveway pointed me squarely at the transmission pan. The pan on my truck is held on by 14 bolts which sandwiches a gasket between the pan and body of the transmission. The bolts are supposed to be torqued to 168 inch pounds (roughly 14 foot pounds). The pan and bolts were suspiciously coated in ATF. 

So, having localized the source to the pan and knowing the torque specs for the bolts, I finally got a chance to crawl under the truck earlier today with torque wrench in hand and discovered, much to my dismay, that all 14 bolts were not only not torqued to spec but barely finger tight. I am exceedingly thankful that all 14 bolts were still attached to the transmission. 

After giving each bolt a proper torqueing and wiping down the pan and bolts of excess ATF, I set about trying to refill the lost ATF into the transmission. Only to discover that I did not have enough ATF on hand to completely refill the transmission. The good news is  that  no further ATF was seen escaping the pan and its bolts.  So, I think that leak in the dike was plugged. 

Grumbles and cursings at the inevitable delays and a trip to the auto parts store later, I now have enough (hopefully) ATF on hand to finish replenishing. 

But wait, there's more. While doing the ATF refill kabuki dance, I discovered that the transmission cooler lines were drooling a little ATF at the fittings to the radiator (which also acts as a transmission cooler). OH COME ON ALREADY!!! 

If it ain't one thing, it's another. 

So, assuming the weather cooperates, my morning tomorrow will involve tightening transmission cooler lines, refilling ATF and hopefully dropping the truck at the muffler shop. Wish me luck and no more surprises. 

Further Adventures in Auto Repair

Free time has been at a premium since we last checked in with Daddy Hawk. Even with the COVID-19 stay in place orders (which are slowly being relaxed here in North Texas), there is always something that  needs doing and many projects in the queue that need attention not the least of which is overdue repairs on both vehicles. 

The Queen's chariot is long overdue for a new driver's seat cover which has been worn through over the years by too many butts sliding across it. One was ordered and has arrived awaiting my time and attention. It's not an easy fix, but it is doable with a minimum of cursing and blood. Pro tip: if you have leather seats, sit into them as opposed to sliding into them if at all possible. I will try to document the process of replacing the seat cover here if I remember to take pictures. 

The Queen's chariot is also in need of a new power steering cooler as the existing one (which Ford conveniently included as one part with the A/C condenser) took a shot from an unknown object (or just let go over time) and is drooling power steering fluid like a St. Bernard with a mouthful of Novacaine. Having done the radiator a while back, I know what I'm in for which is why that can has been kicked down the road a time or two. It's a full day of disassembling the front end, draining fluids, cursing, threatening, begging, praying and generally trying to avoid insanity. The shop quoted $385 in labor to do it for me.  So, I'll be sucking it up and getting my hands dirty with that one soonish.

The Queen's chariot is not done with me yet. While I'm throwing wrenches at the power steering cooler / AC condenser, I have to go chasing a radiator fluid leak. I'm hoping it's just a loose clamp. I can't see any evidence that there is a more serious problem, but one never knows when you are talking about a motor with over 260,000 miles on it. Never let it be said I don't get my money's worth out of my vehicles.  

That leaves the project F150. I just replaced the radiator which had a hairline crack and was at least partially responsible for my coolant leak and overheating issues there. I suspect it has a leaking head gasket and will be testing that soon. It also sprouted a transmission fluid leak which I suspect is coming from an overtightened pan gasket. I just need a dry afternoon to get under there with a torque wrench and verify that. I have a replacement gasket for it if necessary. While I was crawling around under it a couple of weeks ago, I also noticed this:

I'm 85% sure that wasn't like that when I put the bed back on after replacing fuel pumps, but I'm also 100% sure it was hanging by a thread because it's always had a more or less straight pipe sound. I've  got a quote from the local muffler shop that I like which will be done after it's road tested. 

Way down the list for this truck is a rebuilt engine. I'm going to stick with the stock 302/5.0L block, but I'm hoping to tweak a little more horsepower and torque out of it in the process. Discussions will need to be had with my cousin the mechanic before deciding which way to go. I'd really like to ditch the automatic transmission and swap in a 5 speed manual, but that's just crazy talk....which means I'm seriously researching how to make it happen. 

This, of course, means I need to invest in more tools. What a shame. 

Further Adventures in Car Repair

There is a running joke in car repair shops that you can have 2 out of the following 3 types of repairs: cheap repairs, good repairs or fast repairs. I've also seen it written as cheap and fast equals not good. Good and fast equals not cheap. Cheap and good equals not fast. One last quote from the original Mad max movie: "Like the sign says: Speed is just a question of how much money you want to spend."

Today, it meant deciding to rip out $250 worth of new parts that I might not be able to sell or get refunded and spending $375 on different parts to avoid spending over $500 on another other set of new parts.

Confused?

Yeah. Me too.

It all started with the air spring suspension on The Queen's Chariot deciding 250,000 miles was quite far enough thank you very much about a month or two ago. The air spring suspension in the Lincoln Navigator is a marvel of modern engineering, and it's also bloody expensive. The system has several key components which all must work in concert to keep the ride smooth and comfy. The heart of the system is an air compressor mounted below the passenger side headlight. That compressor pumps air through a surprisingly small plastic hose to the rear air spring solenoids (one on each side) when the ride height sensors (again, one on each side) tells the vehicle body module computer that something is amiss. If any one of those items takes a dirt nap, your paid for Lincoln Navigator / Ford Expedition is suddenly a low rider which bounces at the slightest provocation.

So, a couple of months ago after a minor blood letting to replace the radiator in The Chariot, The Queen is following me in another vehicle and says: "Did you know my car is leaning heavily to the left?"

Um...no. I did not.

Over the next several days and weeks, The Chariot's suspension issues had steadily gotten worse to the point that the entire rear end would squat when the ignition was turned off. So, I turned my Google Fu on, and I came to the conclusion that the rear air springs had finally given up the ghost and were no longer capable of hold air.

For those who have no experience with air ride suspensions, the air springs are basically thick rubber air bags (think of it as a thick rubber sleeve/cushion that is mounted around a strut) which may or may not be surrounded by a metal case which connect up to an air line and solenoid. Air comes into  the bag, inflates and magic happens resulting good feelings.

Well, you've all seen what happens to a tire after it's been out in the weather for several years. The rubber starts to dry out, and little cracks start to appear. Eventually, air starts to leak out before finally not being able to hold any air at all. All the while, your air compressor that feeds the bags is working harder and longer to supply air, and the solenoids are getting clogged with water, rust and particulates from the air that's compressed but not filtered into lines.

So, roughly $250 and a week or so waiting on shipping later, I had me a set of replacement air springs. Several YouTube tutorials later (unfortunately, not including the one that shows you close up how to do several key steps which I just found today). and I gamely made my first attempt at replacing said air springs.

It took most of a Sunday and a little bit of heat exhaustion, but I got the old ones out and the new ones in. I turned on the system expecting great things to take place (or at least inflation of two air springs).

What happened? Not a thing. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Bupkiss.

Running short on time, The Queen prevailed upon me to take The Chariot to a local mechanic we recently became acquainted with for the purpose of diagnosing the problem. $100 later, said mechanic assured me that the air compressor and solenoids were working, and the air springs must be defective.

Okay. Fine. Not what I wanted to hear, but what are you going to do? So, I reached out to the manufacturer; and, in short order, I had a new set of air springs on the way (ground shipping sucks when you are in a hurry).  Eventually, the replacement replacement air springs arrived and The Chariot went back to the mechanic to install them.

I dropped The Chariot off on a Friday so he could work on it over the weekend and told him to let me know when it was ready. Monday - no call. Tuesday - no call. Wednesday - finally got a call...that he could not fix it and could I come back to the shop and pick it up.

[Insert long string of your favorite colorful expletives here]

I'm not going to complain too much. He didn't charge me anything since he was unsuccessful in fixing it, and he was honest about the fact that he doesn't deal with air spring suspensions enough to know what's wrong. I went and picked up The Chariot, and fired up the Bat Signal for my cousin Vinny (not his real name), the mechanic turned engineer, to come out and take a look. He had me do some diagnostics until he could find time in his schedule which got us no closer to a solution, unfortunately.

He was finally able to make it by the house today, and we got down to business of doing our best to sort out the problem.

Discovery number 1: the rear air spring solenoids were completely plugged up with rust and schmutz and other assorted crap. We made an attempt to locate replacement solenoids, but we struck out. There were no solenoids to be found for The Queen's vehicle in stock anywhere in the greater DFW area for less than $200 (each) [I'm not spending $400 just to try and figure out if they are the only problem].

Discovery number 2: Punching a hole through a clogged air solenoid will allow it to function temporarily long enough to figure out that your skin flint cheap bastard ways were right not to buy $400+ worth of shiny new solenoids because the air bags were still not inflating.

[Insert more expletives of your choice]

Discovery number 3: The only other possible cause of the (continued) problem is that the air compressor is just flat worn out. Guess who is not spending upwards of $200 to get a new compressor to see if he's right? Yep, this guy.

Discovery number 4: There exists, for just such occasions, an air spring to coil over strut conversion kit that eliminates the guess work and produces allegedly similar ride quality. The cheapest kits do not include a gizmo that bypasses all the electronics that annoy the carp out of you with warnings and threats to check the air suspension. The kit I chose includes a bypass module that it supposed to take care of that problem without resorting to reprogramming the computer. It normally costs about $450 to $500 plus tax. I found a deal on Amazon for $375 with tax and shipping included.

Sold.

In hindsight, I probably should have gone with the conversion kit in the first place. The Queen and I had discussed the options and decided to try and fix the existing system. I don't think it was the wrong decision at the time, but it definitely did not turn out to the right choice in the end. Sometimes you just have to admit defeat and go a different direction even if it means losing a little money.

A Brief Lesson in Auto Mechanics

I've been tinkering with cars for almost as long as I can remember. My mother, the sainted Mimi, attempts to tell the story of my "working" on my little red pedal car when I was a wee lad of 3 or 4 years of age. I say she attempts to tell the story as I don't think she's ever successfully finished telling the story without hyperventilating in hysterical laughter. Oh well.

I have learned a thing or two along the way. One of the first things I learned was that a novice mechanic of a tender 16 years of age should never attempt disassembly of a 1973 Ford Thunderbird carburetor by oneself. Surprisingly, there are a bunch of tiny little parts inside one of those suckers, and the shop manual was not very instructive on how to find ball detent A and spring B after they shot across the driveway much less where they allegedly came from in the first place.

Live and learn I suppose.

Now, here I be a mere 30 something years later giving my father in law's Jeep the hairy eyeball after what seems like the 30TH time it has slit its metaphorical wrists in a pathetic cry for help or a desperate plea for attention.

I should digress here for a moment and provide some backstory. My father in law, Opa, while a genuinely good person in many respects, is nothing short of death incarnate to anything mechanical or technological. I've never seen anyone who has reached such an advanced age who is so completely mechanically inept. He once asked me to take a look at a previous vehicle of his (which was The Queen's former Jeep that was in perfect running order when it was turned over to his tender mercies) as it was having electrical issues. Electrical issues and I don't get along very well thanks to a sadistic grandfather (but that is story for another time), but I gamely agreed to give it a look. So, I popped the hood and immediately identified the problem. For reasons that I was never able to get him to fully explain, Opa had used a 3 inch decking screw to "tighten" the battery cable to the battery post. Said screw was, in turn, contacting the hood which, in turn, welded the screw to the hood shorting out the electrical system in the process.

Anyway, so Opa's current Jeep, which has been something of a basket case since the day we bought it two years ago (seriously, this was the 11TH time in 2 years I've had to diagnose and fix something on this vehicle), started running rough, hesitating on acceleration and at highway cruising speeds and generally being a pain to drive. It took me borrowing the Jeep one day to discover that something was amiss as Opa rarely mentions these things until parts are dragging the ground. I took a look at it a month ago with my handy dandy automotive code reader which dutifully reported that the Jeep was experiencing misfires on multiple cylinders and there was a fault in the EVAP system (essentially the fuel system's vapor recovery system). The misfires are pretty easy to deal with as they usually result from a bad coil or spark plug on vehicles of this vintage. The Jeep is a 2001 with over 170,000 miles on it. A post mortem examination of the ignition coil suggested that it just might be the original ignition coil pack installed at the factory. It was cracked and showing it's age. Not a good thing, and the most likely source of the misfire issue. After replacing the plugs and coil, no more misfire code.

One problem down.

After the plugs and coil were done, I moved on to noodling the EVAP system problem. Now, YouTube is a great resource for DIY mechanics like me. I watched a couple of videos on diagnosing and repairing the system. One guy did a great video involving a smoke machine, removing the gas tank cover, the rear bumper cover and poking around in the rear of the vehicle. It was a lot of wrenching and crawling under and feeling blindly around the back end of the car to get to a small hose that had a crack in it. But hey, he fixed it.

Now, we finally arrive at the point of this whole story. I told you all that to tell you this. The first lesson of DIY mechanicing is to work from easiest solution to hardest. My code reader gives helpful suggestions on potential repairs to fix the problem. Check this. Replace that. Blah, blah, blah. I read through the list of suggestions and found the easiest solution and started there.

What was the easiest solution you ask? Tighten the gas cap.

That's it.

I checked the gas cap; and, sure enough, it was loose. Tightened it until it clicked, checked the code reader; and, voila, no more EVAP system code. Apparently, Opa hadn't tightened the gas cap until it clicked like he was supposed to last time he gassed the vehicle, and it caused the Jeep to swoon like it'd been given Hemlock or something.

Go figure.

Buyer Beware

Once upon a time, around about the end of August last year, the fuel pump on The Queen's chariot went Tango Uniform. Come to find out, it's a fairly well known issue that Ford fuel pumps eventually take a dirt nap after the electrical connector in the fuel pump housing melts. Most fuel pumps installed in the gas tanks use the gasoline to keep the pump cool. Run the tanks down too low, and you have nothing to cool the pump which contributes to the electrical connectors melting resulting in fuel pump failure.

Look at the melted plastic where the red arrow is.

Guess who has a tendency to run the fuel tank down "0 miles to empty"? 

Here's another question for you: where does Ford mount the fuel pump?

If you answered "inside the fuel tank under the [expletive deleted] 6000 pound SUV", you win the "sweat your ass off in the Texas heat on a crappy asphalt driveway" award. This is not a job you look forward to doing twice. 

So, on with our story. Auto parts stores wanted $250 to $300 for a replacement fuel pump. Since I was still recovering from being laid off (again), $250 to $300 is a lot when you're pinching pennies. I went looking for a better deal, and located a new pump on eBay for $72. The seller had good feedback. The listing indicated that So, money was paid and a fuel pump arrived. After a late night of laying on crumbling asphaly under the SUV in the "cool" evening temperatures of 90 degrees with naught but a headlamp to light my way, the fuel pump was in and working. 

For a time. 

A week ago Sunday, the "new" pump decided it was a perfect day to die. 

I reached out to the eBay seller to see about getting the pump replaced under warranty:

"I purchased a fuel pump for a 2007 Lincoln Navigator in August 2017 from CN Batteries. It appears that the pump failed yesterday (pending confirmation). What is the warranty replacement policy/process?"

Polite. Reasonable. To the point.

The response I received was confusing:

"ok,we know,how about you pay $70,we will send you a new one,is it ok?

regards"

Huh?? Now, my English isn't always the best, but my guess is that English isn't this person's strongest subject. 

I decided to seek clarification:

"Your reply makes no sense. I purchased a fuel filter from you via eBay less than 6 months ago for $71.99. That fuel pump has now failed, and you are suggesting that I send you $70 and you will send me another one? Seriously? Is that your idea of a joke? 

I just got done doing the diagnostic testing. There is power to the engine compartment power distribution box, and the fuel pump fuse and relay are both good. However, there is no sound of the pump pressurizing when I turn the ignition key to the on position. In all likelihood, when I go through the trouble of pulling the dropping the tank to get to the pump I bought from you out of the tank, I am betting the pump is going to turn out to be bad. Your eBay listing indicates the pump comes with a 12 month warranty. Warranties generally mean replacement of defective products within the warranty period. We are well within the warranty period. So, again, what exactly is covered by the warranty you say your product comes with and what is the process to get a replacement?"

Perhaps I'm getting a little peaved a this point.

CN-Batteries doubled down with the following reply:

"ok,we know
the only way to get the replacement is to pay us $69
if you don't pay the money,we can't send you the replacement freely,hope you understand
regards"

Now, I'm not an unreasonable person, but this is moving the needle from a little peaved to not a happy camper. 

I strongly urge them to reconsider the error of their ways with this:

"No, I don't understand. Your product listing indicates the pump has a 1 year warranty. Does your product have a 1 year warranty or not? If it does not contrary to what your listing clearly states in the "item specifics" section of the listing, you are engaging in false advertising. If it does, how can you justify first asking for $70 and now $69 to replace a defective product under warranty. If you do not provide a proper explanation immediately, I will have no choice but to post this entire exchange on social media and escalate this issue to eBay for resolution."

They, for reasons which I cannot fathom, are either too blind to see the error of their ways or incapable of repentence as evidenced by their next reply:

"This is our company policy

the only way to get the replacement is to pay us $69
if you don't pay the money,we can't send you the replacement freely,hope you understand
regards"

Well, even an unhappy camper should give one last chance:

"Your company policy is in direct contradiction with the terms of your listing. As previously stated, your eBay listing states the product has a 1 year warranty. You are required under the eBay Selling Practices Policy "...to meet the expectations you've set in your listing." You have created an expectation that there is a one year warranty on the product sold. I don't know what warranty means where you come from, but where I come from warranty does not mean requiring a purchaser of a defective product to pay $2 less than full price to get a replacement under warranty. Since you obviously have no intention of honoring your warranty or living up to your other false promise of 100% buyer satisfaction, you leave me no choice but to escalate this to eBay and publish this entire exchange via social media in the hopes that other consumers will not fall victim to your unscrupulous business practices."

Well, I did warn them.  

So, don't expect CN-Batteries to honor their warranty. Don't expect their fuel pumps to last through their alleged warranty period. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go lay down in some crumbling asphalt under a 6000 pound SUV again. At least it's not 90 degrees out this time. 

Why Can't I Get Sick in Peace?

I had to go to Las Vegas for business last week. I flew out on Sunday and came back Monday.  I didn't go play in any reindeer games although I was tempted to drop the lone $1 bill in my wallet on a slot machine just so I could say I lost all my money in Vegas.

While I am there in Vegas tending to business, I start to pick up a little bit of  nasal congestion and scratchy throat. Allergies thinks I. I'm not used to a climate involving dry air and show girls on the street corners. Speaking of things I'm not used to, Vegas is probably the only place in the country where you can have a marijuana "dispensary" next door to a gun range next door to a wedding chapel next door to a world class buffet. When they say Sin City, they ain't just whistling Dixie buster. The restaurant proudly displaying a sign that said "over 350 pounds eats free" was just icing on the decadence cake.

So, any post nasal drip, I come home very late Monday night. I get off the plane hungry not having had time to grab food before departure in Lost Wages. Dallas Love Field is borderline ghost town at 11:30. By the time I made it back to my vehicle and out the parking garage, it was past midnight. The Queen didn't help matters by tempting me with Facebook videos of a deep dish, stuffed crust, double three cheese blend with an extra side of cheese pizza dusted in grated Parmesean.

So, naturally, I go looking for pizza. Surely, in Dallas, there would be a pizza place open until at least 1:00 AM. I go Googling. Nothing near the airport claimed to be open. Not that such would have been my first choice. It's a 30 minute drive from the airport back to the house. Cold pizza is not nearly as enticing as hot pizza. What about near the house? Surely my humble suburb had a Domino's open late? According to their website, yes, they had a location just a few miles from my house that was open until 1:00AM.

Huzzah. The tired traveler is saved from starving to death.

Not so fast garlic sauce.

I call the number. It's 12:06 AM. I sit on hold for 8 minutes while a lovely computer recorded female voice tells me about all the wonderful employment opportunities available to me at Domino's and someone will be with me shortly to take my order. How freaking busy can a Domino's be on a Monday night just after midnight? Did the Marijuana Growers Convention come to town and no one told me? I grow a tad impatient and hang up. I tried calling back at 12:14AM. Same lovely recording. I have no moved from impatient to peeved. Perhaps some twit is talking to their significant other or playing Pokémon or whatever it is Domino's employees do when they should be answering the PHONE!!!!

Calm down. It's just the hunger making you rage. Their probably all just busy...at midnight...on a Monday.

I call again at 12:21AM. Now, I was expecting at the very least the same cheerful recorded voice saying someone would eventually take my order. The website said they're open until 1:00AM. I expect someone to take orders until 1:00 AM. Or, at least answer the phone and say sorry, last order has to be in by 12:45 or something. So, you can imagine my puzzlement when a new pre-recorded greeting reached my ears proclaiming that Domino's was now closed for the evening.

Oh really. Do tell.

Some smarmy bugger went and flipped a switch rather than take an order. Since this location is on my way home, more or less. I decided to swing by for a little looksee.

You know, it was really tempting, when I arrived at the location at about 12:36 AM, to drive my truck through the front window when I saw no less than 4 Domino's employees standing around doing not much of anything.

A plague of flying monkeys engaging in deviant behavior with footballs upon your store Domino's. I shall never grace your business with my money again.

So, Tuesday dawns. I decided that working from home made perfect sense in light of my late night misadventures. I work in an office where I report to no one directly, and no one reports directly to me. My phone was already forwarded to my work cell phone. As long as I logged in to my computer and answered the phone, no one would know or care where I was.

Wednesday, saw me back at the office. The sniffles and cough had started to settle in for a long winter stay. I kept foolishly thinking it was just allergies. Thursday didn't go any better, and my voice made it known that it was going to make a break for it before the end of the day. By Thursday evening, it was clear something in the viral/bacterial family had gotten a hold of me. It was early to bed after dinner. Unfortunately, it was not a restful night's sleep.

Nausea and a glorious bit of acid reflux woke me up in the wee hours. I spent some quality time in the restroom trying to decide which orifice was going to win the honors of expelling the demons. Since my upper respiratory tract was busy coughing up a lung and waking up The Queen, the traditional exit won the coin toss. I eventually made it back to bed. I assume The Queen did as well. I was beyond caring at that point.

Friday morning dawned with me sleeping through all my alarms and waking at 9:30 AM to a massive headache, more coughing, sneezing and a low grade fever. I texted the boss that work from home was going to be attempted and proceeded to slog through my work day as best as I could manage. I have a vague memory of cooking chili for dinner before collapsing into sleep early again.

Sometime in the night, I relocated to the recliner. I'm not sure that did any good, but it was worth a shot. I could breathe slightly better through one nostril in a semi reclined position as opposed to no nostrils in the fully supine position.

Saturday morning dawned with me back in bed again. The Queen allowed as how she felt like garbage too. Great. Misery loves company. For the last several years, I have been unable to fully enjoy my customary illness remedy: pulling the covers over my head and sleeping for three days. The reason for this is that The Queen has a tendency to get ill at the same time as I. Dreadfully inconvenient since I am her caretaker.

To make matters worse, we were out of drinking water. Yes, we are water snobs. I say "we" referring to the household as a collective whole.  I am more than content to swill tap water when necessary; however, I can easily discern the difference in flavor between filtered water, Fiji water and the taps from several municipalities in our area. So, we buy our water by the 5 gallon refillable bottle. We had 6 of those suckers at one time; but, through attrition and misfortune, we are down to 4.

By the by, water weighs in at about 8 pounds per gallon making one of those bottles, when full, about 40 pounds of  dead weight. Ever try lifting 40 pounds when you have a massive headache? I'm pretty sure that's what a stroke feels like just before it happens.

So, after a slight detour, back to our story. Saturday sees us headed off to the local Whole Foods to refill our water stocks from their carefully filtered sources (don't go there...just don't, there are things I do for love that you will not understand). I suggested to The Queen that a rotisserie chicken and some mac n cheese were ideal options for dinner saving everyone some trouble since I had no bloody intention of cooking. The Queen, in her infinite wisdom, acknowledged that this was a splendid idea.

We returned home at which time I crawled back into bed in a futile attempt to continue with my traditional illness remedy. Dinner was inhaled at some point. The Queen and I watched a couple of movies to distract ourselves. A snack of leftover chili was had. The Queen reported feeling better. I, however, was not.

Which brings us to today. I've been stuck with the same low grade fever. Still coughing and sneezing. Fortunately, the headache has receded from massive to minor inconvenience. The Queen and I have enjoyed a restful day in bed plucking away at our laptops. Until just before 5:00 PM when I received a call from my father in law, Opa.

It seems Opa had taken Oma out for a little drive and his vehicle sprouted a flat tire. Bear in mind, it's 50 degrees outside with the temperature dropping as the sun goes down. I'm the only one in the house capable of changing a flat tire since my father in law has a major hernia issue, Oma wouldn't know the difference between a lug nut and a tire if her life depended on it, M&M hasn't received proper training on vehicle maintenance yet, and The Queen is still on the gimp from injuring her foot a few weeks back.

That leaves me. I get dressed in warm clothing not wanting to make matters worse. Ha. That's funny. I make sure my truck is topped off with fluids (since my truck has all the tools in it and will carry my 3 ton floor jack without a problem). Good thing too. The radiator was a wee bit low as was the oil, and it turns out Opa's vehicle had a jack but no tool to cause the jack to actually do jack about jack.

I prefer my floor jack any way.

I arrive to discover Opa's vehicle parked way, way, way at the back of a new subdivision. They've paved the streets and alleys, but the rest is mud. Somehow, Opa managed to find his way down one of these recently paved alleyways which were not strictly open to the public nor completely finished as the storm water drains had just recently been installed. The Opamobile is parked in an good spot for a tire change thankfully. I get out to inspect the problem and discover that the passenger front tire is completely separated from the rim after getting punctured in the sidewall, and a good bit of the rim has been chewed up and broken off. That's a dead donut right there. No chance of salvaging either rim or tire.

As near as I can tell, Opa didn't see the fact that the recently installed storm drain was sitting neatly inside a formed hole in the concrete paving of the recently paved alley which left just enough room between the pavement and the storm drain for one SUV tire to drop in neatly and off camber enough to get punctured by a wooden stake holding the concrete forms in place. The reason Opa didn't see this is that today's rains had left a muddy pool of water covering the area of the as yet uncompleted storm drain.

Before I had arrived, Opa had managed  to pull the spare tire out of the wheel well. It's a full sized spare for an SUV. Remember Opa? The one with the hernia condition? I appreciate the attempt at helping, but don't kill yourself old man. That's my job.

Anywho, I get what's left of the dead donut off and wisely check the spare before installation. Wouldn't you know it? Not even enough air to register on the tire pressure gauge. Fortunately, I came prepared. My truck is pretty well stocked for a clunker. I grabbed the air pump; and, a few minutes later, we had a properly aired up full size spare.

By now, the sun is down, and I am both chilled and sweating at the same time. Neat trick that. You should try it sometime. I'm out of  breath too. I should really give up this getting sick business since I can't seem to die in peace.

Lug nuts get tightened as much as I'm willing to do without dragging out the torque wrench. Opa gets back in his vehicle and promptly can't find the keys.

[facepalm] You've got to be kidding me.

We search high and low even resorting to frisking poor Oma (you just can't take any chances with those Alzheimer's folks). The keys finally turn up between the center console and the driver's seat where an inadvertent elbow must have knocked them off to (why Opa put them on the center console in the first place is a mystery to me...that man's logic escapes me sometimes).

Now, I'm back home recording this for posterity after consuming some really good Mediterranean food. I'm going to, once again, attempt to pull the covers over my head and sleep.

Good night.

Grumble, Grumble...

The Queen: Honey, I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a flat tire.

Me: Where are you? [location received...close by fortunately] Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes.

...frickin'...grumble, grumble...tire sized chunk of asphalt...$$*I&%$#$@!!...missing from the side of the road....grumble, grumble...and The Queen manages to hit it...[snort, spit]...at 50 miles per hour...D'oh....

Great. Just what we needed. I would have felt better about a nail or something like that because I keep a plug kit in the car.

Fortunately, The Queen was safe and close to home so that I could assist quickly. The bonus, see there is a silver lining, is that she was able to pull over in a very wide median cross over which gave me a safe place to work.

Anyone Still There?

Greetings from the disaster area known as my life. In fact, life as I have come accustomed to knowing it ends exactly one month from tomorrow which is when my law school classes start. Which my lovely bride reminded me of at 1:30 AM this morning. Thanks sweetheart. That was a wonderful thought to go to bed to. 

You would think someone embarking upon three and a half to four years of life altering education would take this opportunity to relax and enjoy the next 32 days. You would be thinking about normal people. I'm not normal. You see, in addition to my normal duties as sole breadwinner, head chef and bottle washer here at the castle, there are several other things that have been intentionally added to the schedule by us or serendipitously dumped on us by that evil genius Murphy (bucket list item: locate and pee on said personage's grave).

So, let's give the readership a rundown of the end of life as I know it.

1) The power steering in my 2000 Nissan Maxima finally chose last month to give up the ghost completely. Other than the inconvenience of this occurring in the midst of the hottest summer in recent memory (it's been a glorious 100+ degrees here since mid June), I really can't complain. That car has been chugging along for over 310,000 and shows no signs of throwing in the towel anytime soon. If you've never looked at Nissans, I highly recommend them. The down side is that I have to scrounge at least $45into the budget for a power steering pressure line (at best) up to $225 for a new power steering pump and pressure line (at worst) not to mention finding time in an already hectic schedule to change out said components while trying not to die of heat stroke. 

2) Our oldest remaining animal, Sasha (the big lab/shepherd mix who will turn 12 or 13 this fall...I can never remember unless I go back and look at her vet records) has been in declining health of late. We took her to the vet last week. He diagnosed her as having had a mild stroke, arthritis in the hind quarters and some neuropathy. He candidly told us she doesn't have a lot of time left. The only question is whether she can make some improvement from her current state (very weak, wobbly, etc.) to make further treatment beneficial and not just delaying the inevitable. It's really depressing so close on the heels of the demise of the Yakmaster, but such are the trials of those who open their hearts to animals.

3) We've made it official pretty much everywhere else to more or less encouraging response: The Queen and I have decided to start the process to adopt. I haven't spent much time in these pages on the lack of children in the Castle mainly because that's pretty darn personal, and I really had no clue as to how best to handle it. Suffice it to say, The Queen and I have been unable to have children of our own. The Queen's health has recovered to the point that we can actually consider taking care of children and not lose our ever lovin' minds which is a tremendous blessing. Part of the adoption process is required attendance in classes about fostering/adopting/parenting. We've been told to expect the process to take anywhere from six to eighteen months. We've decided to go the foster to adopt route for a number of reasons not the least of which is cost. Further updates as events warrant.

4) I still have to finish the projects around the Castle so that we can, in theory, put the house on the market to sell. 

5) The market sucks right now. I mean really bad. We had a realtor do a market evaluation for us a couple of years ago when we first started thinking about selling the house. It was not great then by any stretch of the imagination, but a sale was possible if you weren't greedy. From what I've been able to gather via internet research on houses for sale in my area, things have gone from bad to worse. Price per square foot has dropped by about $5 to $10 in two years. That sound you hear: it's the equity in our house going down the drain. We'll be lucky to sell the house at a breakeven if we can sell it ourselves without a realtor. Anyone want a good deal on a house in a Dallas suburb? Anyone? Bueller?

6) The castle's AC started out the summer heat wave at a disadvantage. The system is just a tad too small for the castle's square footage (it's a 4 ton system when it should be 4.5 at a minimum and 5 would probably be better). As you can imagine, Murphy struck when the temps hit "slow roast". The lines and compressor froze up. A visit from our AC guy later, we had our freon charged up and hoped that was the end of it. Not so much. Shutting off airflow to one bedroom/bathroom and fiddling with the thermostat setting for several days, we finally have an AC system that will shut off sometime after 11:00 PM. It runs non-stop when the sun is out. And it's forecast to be over a hundred....until who knows when. My luck it'll be the end of August before Satan drops the temps back to "simmer".

7) We are in the process of "decluttering" the house. Until recently, The Queen's parents were living with us. My inlaws are wonderful people; but, with two adult couples living under the same roof, there is just too much stuff. Since the inlaws have more or less relocated permanently to my brother in law's house while they work on refurbishing the house they will be moving into on his property, The Queen and I are taking the opportunity to reclaim our space. Easier said than done. It doesn't quite look like we need an intervention from the crew of "Hoarders" yet, but I'm not ruling the possibility out. 

Enough for now. Duty and work calls.

Adventures in Car Repair

I’ve always had a powerful desire to work with my hands even though I’ve never been properly trained in any particular trade. I love to tinker with things, build things, make things, take things apart…occasionally put them back together properly.

My mother loves to tell a story about when I was 3 years old. I had one of those little red fire engine pedal cars; and, apparently, I was under the impression that it needed to be “repaired”. Frequently. My “repairs” allegedly took the form of the wheels and steering wheel being removed and put back on. This is the point in the story where Mom starts laughing uncontrollably as she tries to tell people of how I would be pedaling madly down the sidewalk only to have all fours wheels fall off simultaneously leaving me holding a steering wheel no longer connected to anything but my very inept hands.

Since then, I have worked on every car I’ve ever owned to one degree or another. Some of my efforts have been more extensive than others. Some of my efforts have been more successful than others.

For the last several days, the latest victim of my mechanical talents has been our 2002 Ford Windstar. The AC compressor on the Windstar chose August in Texas to take an eternal dirt nap. I’ve never attempted an AC repair before; but, after the shop said they wanted $1300 in parts and labor to fix, I figured I should give it a whirl.

After tinkering with cars for most of my life, I’ve noticed a couple of things that others might find amusing.

First, automotive engineers are a sadistic lot. There’s an old joke about the difference between a masochist and a sadist: The masochist says “Hurt me. Hurt me.” While the sadist says “No.” I’m convinced that car company engineers spend millions of dollars and hundreds of man hours thinking up devious and perverse ways to thwart countless masochistic shade tree mechanics such as myself. It’s their way of saying “No”.

Second, I am convinced that the folks who write car repair manuals have never, in fact, seen a car much less attempted to repair one.

For instance, the manual on the Windstar says that you should be able to remove the AC compressor from the engine compartment after removing the four mounting bolts. That might be possible in a pig’s left nostril. Maybe. Not, however, on a Windstar.

The bright eyed sadists at Ford buried the AC compressor on the front left side of the engine. Hiding out below the compressor is a frame rail, a radiator hose and part of the exhaust manifold leaving absolutely not nearly enough room to remove the large, heavy rectangular peg from the much smaller triangular hole. The top side is not much better. To the left is a huge chunk of engine compartment wall. To the right is more radiator plumbing and the battery. Above the compressor, Ford found a great place for the alternator and its mounting bracket creating another peg/hole combination from Hell.

Now, I’m enough of an arm chair engineer to grudgingly admit that you have to make compromises which sometimes sacrifice ease of repair. That, however, does not relieve repair manual writers from their obligation to accurately report the steps necessary to successfully undertake a particular procedure. Is it too much ask the manual companies to have some junior grade tech writer actually present when the repair is done? I mean, you might actually pick up little time saving hints like you need to remove the alternator and its mounting bracket to get the compressor out of its little hiding spot.

I spent the better part of several hours alone in the workshop trying to noodle that one out. The rats living in the shop’s insulation were no help. Ungrateful freeloading squatters. I give them free room and all the junk they could ever hope to hide in. The least they could do is give a guy a constructive suggestion once in a while.

All’s well that end’s well, though. I succeeded in getting the old compressor out and the new one in without having parts left over. It even started on the first try with no sparks, smoke or flames. A system flush and some R-134a later, the Windstar has cold AC again.

I can hear the Ford engineers back at their CAD programs cursing under their breath. Go on you turkeys. Take your best shot. Hurt me if you can.