Milestone

Wow! The project is now in the garage! It's actually been in there for about a week (note the cushions from the patio chairs being stored on top of the cab - it's going to be a challenge for me to keep my dear truck clean of "storage" items), but posting to the blog has taken some time.

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I wasn't planning on putting the truck into the garage that Thursday, but I had just gotten tired of not making any progress on the truck, and came home angry about it that day. I decided that, ready or not, the truck was moving into the garage that afternoon. Got home, pawned the attention-hogging child off on his mother, and told them I was going out to move the truck. On my way out the door, my loving wife was saying something about the garage smelling like gasoline. As I stepped out and closed the door, I was thinking, "Huh? Why's it gonna smell like gasoline?"  Oh yeah, the hole in the fuel tank. Dammit - I'm not going to let that stop me, I'll just drain the tank after I get it into the garage.

 

I got the battery installed, finally got the engine to crank, and backed into the garage. I thought that I'd be slick about it and just run the engine until the gas tank was empty. I opened all the doors and windows, turned on a fan, and waited outside for the tank to run dry. After a while, I thought that I'd check the mileage record and found that there was just under twelve gallons of gas in the tank. It's going to take hours to empty the tank!

 

Plan number two was to drain the tank via the fuel lines. It seemed like a good idea, until I found that there was no way to crack a line open except for the fittings up by the fuel pump. I pulled the clamps and the gas started to flow out of the line. Well, not really flow...more like a pathetic trickle. Without the pump pulling fuel through the line, this idea wasn't going to work.

 

On to the plan number three: I'm going to stick a hose down the filler neck and start a siphon out to my portable gas cans. Great idea, except I don't have a hose long enough to do the job.

 

Plan number four: Drop the tank. Easy. Just remove the rusty nuts from the hangers, gently lower a nearly full tank, and all's good. Did I mention the time limit? At this point, I've been working with the truck for thirty minutes. I'm really supposed to be inside cooking dinner. (Special thanks to lovey wife Cari for finishing dinner and handling Levi's bath that night!) Some crazy voice in my head told me that it was no problem, I'd have the tank removed in a half hour, tops.

 

I had the tank removed in seventy minutes. Not too shabby, considering that the hangers and hardware are near impossible to get a good hold on with the wrenches needed. I patiently held the hanger rod with one wrench and turned the nut off with another wrench - one agonizingly slow eighth of a turn at a time. Hopes ran high as the nuts reached the end of the rods and the tank was almost free.

 

The floor jack that I was using to lower the tank slowly to the floor turned out to be not so helpful. It held the weight all right, but the tank wouldn't clear the frame while on the jack. The jack came out, and the tank started to move clear - until it hung on the filler hose. Did I mention that I smell gas? There's a hole in the tank, the nearly full tank is hanging at an angle from the filler hose, and gasoline is starting to drip down my arm. That crazy voice in my head (the one that was so confident earlier) started to hum. The hum slowly built into a buzz that shortly exploded into a shrill scream of AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHAAAAAAAAA as it tried to tell the rational part of my brain about the explosive properties of gasoline vapor. HURRY! GET THE FILLER HOSE DISCONNECTED! I SMELL GAS! IT'S GONNA GO BOOM! DON'T DROP THAT WRENCH! OH NO, THE TROUBLE LIGHT IS A HOT BARE BULB REALLY CLOSE TO THE LEAKING TANK!   Damn, that voice in my head really freaks out sometimes. I think I'll just keep moving quickly but carefully towards disconnecting the filler and vent hoses...

After a few (remarkably long) minutes, I got the tank free and out of the garage - out to the open air, where an explosion would be a little bit easier to deal with (right?!).

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This counts as major progress towards goal number one! The truck is in the garage and the fuel tank is dropped. I'm making a list of the parts I need to replace the tank and re-plumb the fuel system; once I price that out, we'll move forward on making this thing a daily driver.

 

 

Safe inside for the winter (along with the snowblower).

The nice big empty spot where the fuel tank used to be...

Little Things

Progress on the truck has been slow. The main goal for the past few weeks has been to get the truck into the garage. The obstacles to meeting this goal have been many, and they've all been little things. Interconnected little things. To get the truck into the garage, the car has to come out. To get the car out of the garage, the no-start condition must be corrected. To fix the starter, it must be trouble-shot. To troubleshoot, the garage needs to be cleaned. It goes on and on.

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The starting problem on the car was annoying and getting worse by the day. A few months ago, the starter wouldn't turn on the first turn of the key. Switch the key on and back a few times and the car would start - not too bad a problem to live with. After a few weeks of that, during a torrential rain storm, the switchy trick stopped working. It took forty minutes of turning the key (no way that I'm doing any repair/diagnostics in a storm when I'm running late to pick up at preschool - just cuss and turn the key-repeatedly) for the starter to spin. In the days following, the starter would take up to ten minutes to decide to turn. Not too inconvenient; just leave for work early and remember to not turn off the engine when picking up at preschool (I don't need thirty little kids watching and waiting for the car to start...).

 

Eventually, I decided that something needed to be done. If I was going to keep driving the car throughout the winter, the starter needed to work regularly. If I was going to park outside (because the truck was in the garage), the weak start needed to improve (it's only going to get colder and harder to crank the engine). I started researching options. A new starter for the Prizm was over $100. The starter solenoid that piggybacks onto the starter is over $100. I thought that the relay might be the problem with the key not working, and the starter might be why it cranked so slowly. This was going to be an expensive fix. I decided to only replace the solenoid and to preheat the engine block with a plug-in block heater (to make it easier for the weak starter to spin the engine).

 

Now, being that I'm cheap - or mainly just not willing to spend money on something that I think isn't worth it - I decided to dig a little deeper. I saw a posting somewhere on the internet about the possibility of rebuilding the contacts on the solenoid for cheap. I thought that might be the way to go, so I started looking for the solenoid on my engine. It's tricky to find. The starter is high on the front of the engine, tucked under the exhaust manifold. It looked like a whole bunch of work to get that thing out of it's home, but I figured that if it saved a lot of cash, I'd be willing to do the work. I set aside some time, and got to digging the solenoid/starter combo out of the engine bay.

 

I managed to twist off 70% of the rusty bolts holding the plastic engine shields under the car. By twisting off, I mean that when I was done, only 30% of the original fasteners were left to secure the panels. That's not a good start. When pulling the panels and reaching to remove the starter, one of the things you run into is the terminal for the positive cable from the battery. It's that thingy below...

 

As I was nursing some wounds and planning the next move, I had the thought to check the battery wire connections. There was a little bit of corrosion on the battery terminals themselves, so I cleaned it off. Under that little flippy cover on the solenoid terminal, there was a wire connection with a lot of corrosion. I scraped that off and made the metal all shiny, then reassembled the starter circuit. To my complete astonishment, the starter worked on the first turn of the key (at full strength/speed, too!). That one little terminal was the reason the car wasn't starting....

 

Sometimes it's the little things that get to you....

Let There Be Light

 

Old. There, I said it: I'm getting older. It's harder to get up off a cold concrete floor, tools get louder and heavier, and be darned if I can't see in normal light. I've spent too long trying to work at the bench with just two sixty-watt lightbulbs illuminating the entire garage. My plan was to buy a shop light or two and solve the problem of not having enough light. The problem with that is that I'm cheap. Twenty-five bucks at the home center for a shop light made me uneasy. That's a lot of money to spend on an "un-neccesary" shop accessory. There's always something that's more important to save that money for. Until....

 

I 'found' a shop light fixture down in the basement. I kinda knew it's been there since we bought the house - there's two lights down there in the part of the basement that is rarely used. One day, I was looking around for something (old paint, I think) and noticed a perfectly good flourescent light fixture above my head. All it needed was new bulbs.

 

Levi took the photo 'cause I was taking the light down.

Just under five dollars for two new bulbs, a little rope from the shop, and some ladder time equals one terrific new shop light. Now, I can see!

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

No movement on getting the truck into the garage this week. With six straight days of rain ending with a child's birthday party to attend and Cari running a race, there was no opportunity to get the truck under cover and the fuel tank drained. It sits patiently, waiting....

Baby Steps

With the truck facing big projects, like replacing the fuel tank and getting ready for inspection (both take time and money), there has been a slow down in the work being done. When cross-country season hits and I've gotta pick up the toddler every day and then try to get dinner and chores done, time to work on "extra" projects gets slim. It's easy to get mentally stuck on the big things that need to be done and lose hope of ever having a finished truck. When the hope fades, the work tends to stop. Well, I've still got hope. I have a goal. Couple that with trolling inspirational quotes on Pinterest, and you end up with a plan. I have a long (and growing) list of the things that need to be done, and I've decided to just keep moving forward. If, at the end of every week, I've managed to get just one thing crossed off the list - that's progress. That keeps the hope alive. If I manage to get a few things done in a week, that's even better. The process is to keep moving - baby steps or giant leaps - just keep swimming moving (sorry for the Finding Nemo reference there).

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This is last week's baby step: charging a dead battery. Can't move the truck into the garage if it won't start. It won't start because it was used to jump start the Escape back when we had alternator failure. That, combined with the cooler temperatures recently, meant not enough juice to crank the engine long enough for the fuel pump to pull fuel up into the carb. (Darn leaky fuel system and mechanical fuel pump!) Status: Battery has been charging for three days and now shows a full charge - being maintained by the trickle charger.

 

That's one step closer to my goal of riding my sweetheart around in my cool truck next summer. (No, I don't listen to too much country music. Trucks and cute wives just naturally mix.)

What I Should Have Been Doing

Instead of painting the house, I should have been working on the poor truck. Still need to replace the fuel tank and put and exhaust on it. Passing inspection would be nice, also.

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It will continue to do odd jobs until the tank is ordered and arrives - then it goes into the garage for a period of rehab. Still love the ugly old truck!

Getting High

I'm pretty comfortable at any height 14' and under. I have no problem on the little ladders. It's when the ladder goes thirty feet that I get all twitchy and nervous.

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The peak of the garage is about 25'. Even with the ladder extended all the way up into that triangle over the arched window, painting that trim requires leaning backward away from the siding to reach over your head. I did the garage first so that I could get used to the terror. The peak at the back of the house is about six feet higher, with less options for placing the ladder. That was quite scary.

 

See? Scary. (But I managed to get a shot or two, so it must not have been that bad...)

My initial estimates had the job of painting all of the trim on the house at about sixteen hours of labor. Actual time ended up being 37 hours of labor. At least everything is now a crisp, bright white instead of the yellowish off-white that is was before. Next step: convince Cari to let me change the doors from red to gray.

Working Car

I needed to borrow a ladder so that I could reach the top of the house (painting trim).

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Yes, I know that I have a truck that is perfectly capable of hauling a ladder, but the Prizm already had the carseat installed - and it has a radio, air conditioning, and is street-legal. It wins this time.

 

Behold the new-generation of 'work truck'!

Outlaw No More

 

That shiny sticker with the number "8" up there is one of the small victories in life. Up until yesterday, the Prizm wore a sticker that said "4". Yup, that means that the state inspection expired way back at the end of April this year. There was no way that the Prizm was going to pass inspection back then. The brake rotors were so warped that slowing to a stop at any speed caused the front wheels to wobble so hard that steering a straight line was difficult. Every time the car hit a bump, the sway bar clunked violently (on his short ride in the car, my own brother said that he thought the wheels were going to fall off the car at each bump; and there are a whole lot of potholes in Vermont -  I don't think it was a real relaxing ride to the store...) The exhaust emitted a offendingly loud rasp from somewhere under the front seats. This is in addition to the headlights that won't turn off with the switch, the passenger door that won't open with the inside handle, and the balky starter solenoid. Other than those few issues, the car has never given us any trouble.

Anyway, it started as stubbornness: I just put a ton of money into this car (new wiper blades!), and I refuse to spend any more money on a car that I'm getting rid of as soon as possible. Once the shiny new truck made the trip up here and the "Project With No End" started, the thought was to get that truck ready for inspection and start driving it instead of the car. I was reminded that a safe, reliable car was going to be needed in the fall in order to pick up Levi from preschool every day. Darn. Time to put new rotors on the car. Fairly cheap and easy to accomplish. Took it in for inspection and failed on: sway bar links at all four corners, exhaust leak, bad muffler hanger, and the biggie: a burnt-out license plate light.

Now the issue isn't stubbornness, it's cash flow and time. A little low on both at the end of the summer. I've been driving with a "4" sticker for three months already, might as well keep at it. It's amazing how accustomed one can become to running as an 'outlaw'. You quickly learn where the most law enforcement activity is and places to avoid (stay off the interstate - state police love writing up those stickers{I got pulled over in my own driveway by a trooper for that} and go through the center of towns - local cops are usually on the outskirts). You get used to the sharp jolt of adrenaline that happens when you see an officer and hope that he ignores the "4".  Park nose-in at home so that the officer that drives past the house every morning can't see the sticker.(That same dude is eyeing the truck's lack of inspection sticker pretty hard!) If leaving the house for work before 6:15, put the headlights on to make it harder for the officer to see the "4" as he passes you. There's many more tips, but trust me: it's easy to drive all "thug"....next you know, I'll be breaking other laws, too. Maybe I'll spit some chewing gum out the window or "forget" a turn signal when switching lanes - you know; get all wacky and outta control. End up in jail because of my string of tickets for reckless driving in cornfields...

 

It took some time and a little money, but all of the areas of failure have been repaired. It's turned the Prizm into a much quieter, stable, and -dare I say it?- nicer vehicle. Just the thing to get me through the winter fetching parts for the truck! (Getting used to the 'freedom' of driving a legal vehicle is taking some time. You mean I can just drive anywhere and anyhow I want to? I won't get pulled over for that little sticker on the window?...)

 

 

 

 

 

 



Excuse Me, I Have Gas

Hi, my name is Andy, and I have a gas problem. It started off small - a little whiff here and there; nothing that would cause too many people to notice. After a while, that wasn't enough, and the scent started to become overwhelming. Before I started seeking help, the odors became a point of tension among friends and family. Now that the problem is out in the open, the early warning signs were clear. The small puddles of gasoline under the parked truck, the trails of liquid following me around. The 'No Smoking' signs around the truck at work. The gas station that now has a sign posted stating that "spills are your responsibility". Having to fill up at different stations every time to avoid the embarassment of being recognized as "that guy".

Seriously, this truck has fuel system issues. The metal line with the hole worn in it has been replaced. The vent hose has been reattached to the tank (a one inch opening at the top of the tank allows a lot of fuel to spill out). All of the hoses have had clamps added to them. Today, I found that the tank has a leak at the seam where the filler goes through. Enough is enough - the truck is going to get parked tomorrow after I stop and get the parts to fix the car's brakes. Then, as soon as I can work enough overtime to pay for it, I'm going to order a new plastic tank, a new hanger and rods, and the proper fuel line to replace the Fisher Price version installed now. Gotta do it - the nice old man at the muffler shop requested that the leaks be fixed before he started welding the new exhaust onto the truck!

The brakes are better. I reworked them all and got a pedal with more 'feel' than the hard/dead pedal it used to have. Before, stopping was a matter of prediction/luck. Now, it is more consistent. Not quite up to the inspection standard of stopping the vehicle from 25mph in 20 feet, but closer.

Anybody remember that whistling noise that comes from a wing window that isn't quite closed? After the last few cold mornings, I am again familiar with that sound. If you change speed right, the pitch goes up and down - almost a replacement for the missing radio....

Simple joys of driving an ugly old truck: nobody (NOBODY) pulls out in front of you. Don't know if it's the big ugly grille or the generally disheveled appearance of the truck, but people make way for the big old boat.

The truck isn't that big, but I guess the combination of its size and the sound that emanates from the holes in the exhaust caused a little elementary school kid to think that my pickup was a big rig. He stood there on the sidewalk with the rest of his field trip group and pumped his arm in the classic "blow your air horn" motion. Sorry, kid. I was too busy doing the old truck dance to have a free hand to honk the horn.

Even with all the issues that this truck has, it is the perfect Vermont summer vehicle. It's a blast to drive - I even took it over to Littleton this past weekend. One hundred miles each way. Fifty miles an hour (or less.sometimes a lot less). Stopped halfway to get some pictures proving that it made the trip.

Modern Conveniences

Driving a forty-year-old vehicle has its challenges. Mainly, those challenges are of the mechanical type: is the engine still running, will the wheels stay on the axle, is the fire extinguisher close by, etc. (I'd like to amend that engine comment - it shouldn't be "is the engine still running?". It should be "will the engine keep running?". In this truck, with the holes in the exhaust and matching holes in the floorboards, you are always aware that the engine is running...in a 'wake up in the middle of the night with your ears ringing' kind of sense.) Other challenges have to do with 'creature comforts'. To follow, a list of modern conveniences for your ponderance.

Power-Assisted Brakes: Now, this isn't too much of a concern for the daily operation of a vehicle, but trying to stop a four thousand pound hunk of metal with non-assisted drum brakes makes me think of math. I hated math in school, but now I'm spending considerable chunks of my commute trying to solve equations that deal with the volume of cylinders, the leverage of the brake shoes, speed and trajectory, and a good sprinkling of Pascal's law. Not too complicated, unless you're also juggling a super-sealed travel tumbler of coffee because you don't have a.....

Cupholder: I ridicule the minivan adverts that tout the impossibly high number of cupholders in the vehicle (sixty-five cupholders! there's even one in the spare tire!). Nobody needs a ton of cupholders. A vehicle needs one cupholder. Only one - for the driver. Any passenger can hold their freaking beverage. Now, this old truck has not a single cupholder. It has no flat surface anywhere in the cab to place a cup. The only solution to keeping your coffee close is to carefully prop it up with the seatbelt right next to your body and not take corners too quickly (not really a problem in a 40-year-old truck!) And before any smartass tells me to go get one of those plastic cupholder/console thingies made for cars, forget it. I ain't buying a cupholder. I prefer to complain and risk spillage.

Self-Cancelling Turnsignals: You wouldn't think that turn signal that cancel themselves after a turn should be considered a modern miracle, but they are. All of you out there driving around with your fancy "multi-function control stalks" that operate the turn signals, the cruise control, the headlights, and the satellite TV can just kiss it. My trusty ride has one skinny little stick poking out to the left there, and it does two things. Only two things. They are: click up and click down. That's right - lift it up to signal right, and push it down to signal left. Remember to click that puppy back off after completing the turn or it will stay flashing for m i l e s. Ask me how I know. More than once, I've had to try and pretend to be an old geezer from Florida to try and cover for the fact that I left the signal on for three or four miles....

Intermittent Wipers: Here's a new dance for all you kids out there - start developing a beat by stomping down on those unassisted brakes. As you get a good stomping going, start twitching side to side to keep that coffee cup upright. Are you swaying now? Add a little head dip by looking down every few seconds to check that the blinkers are off. You're grooving now - foot stomping, swaying, and head dip. Now, add a quick lean forward a shoot your left arm up to switch on the wipers. Now, do it again to switch them off. Keep that motion going every four seconds or so - match the rate of rain falling on the windshield. If you're doing it right, you'll have the road all to yourself because other drivers will be afraid to approach.

We'll leave air conditioning and radios for another discussion - they are not really needed. Vent windows may just get their own entry - they are not sources of blessed venting and air flow. They can be installed to effectively reduce air flow and drip raindrops onto your pantleg in a drizzle.



As It Should Be....

Green Plates. As it should be....

One more step towards legality. Fifty-three percent of the way to passing inspection.

(Side Note: Death Wobble resolved with the balancing of the front tires. It appears that one of the previous owners - most likely the most recent - removed the wheel weights from the wheels when he painted the wheels. The balanced front wheels prevent the front end from wobbling all the way up to 55mph. They might be steady at higher speeds, but I can't get the thing any faster.  Not sure if the axle gearing is limiting top speed or if the engine is just tapped out at 3,000 RPM,  but when you say, "Warp Speed, Mr. Sulu", this old freighter hits the wall at 55. Takes it sweet-ass time to get there, too. I did a unofficial acceleration test the other day: I revved it up and dumped the clutch, short-shifted first gear and wound second all the way out, and when the engine was screaming at redline, I held the gas down and pitched it into third. Right about then, I heard an older gentleman's voice over my left shoulder say, "Good Morning" as he pedaled past me on his bicycle. This thing ain't the Thrust SSC - no land speed records are going to broken here...)



Progress Report

Current Level of Progress: 47% of items to pass state inspection complete.

(45.7% if you count having to replace the bungee cord with a real battery hold down which, curiously, is not an area of inspection in this state)

Sabotage!

Remember the last post, where I told you not to mix family time with repair time? I warned that you would not get good results if you tried. This was most certainly the case today.

As I was rolling around under the front axle trying to resolve the Death Wobble, Toddler was in the bed of the truck - being Toddler. Just as soon as I would fit a wrench to a bolt and start to pull, a little voice from the bed would shout "Daddy! Look! Do you see the stick now?" as he jammed the CB antenna down through a hole in the floor. Not the best game to play as you're trying to calmly think about the problem you're fixing.

As we were packing up to head inside for dinner, this is what I found as I came around the back of the truck:

Toddler took some bungee cords and ran them from the trailer hitch to around a metal shelving unit. That shelf holds a few odds and ends and my toolbox. I don't know for sure, but I think Toddler was attempting to have me pull the truck out of the garage so that he could see a fully-loaded four-drawer toolbox smash to the floor.(Or maybe he's seen the truck drive and knows that the wheezy old engine couldn't pull its way out of a paper bag....)

Anyway, I think Toddler is out to sabotage the truck project. I'm worried that he's going to start "tripping" over the wheel chocks as he kicks them out of place. Maybe he will "helpfully" bring me the trouble light by handing the hot bare-bulb end to me. He's been asking to help grease the truck ever since he spotted the grease gun on the shelf. I can only imagine what handing him a grease gun would result in....

I hope I survive this project!

Intertwined

It's been somewhere near a decade, but I used to know that owning an old Jeep wasn't just about driving that Jeep. It was trying to balance the business of daily life with the repair needs of your vehicle. There were things you had to do, like work. There were things that you needed to do, like put the wheel back onto the axle so that you could get to work. Then, there were things that got put off until later. 'Deferred Maintenance' - like the oil leaks or dripping gear lube - things that weren't critical, but still worked their way into life.

This new (if you can call 1972 new) Jeep is the same. There are the urgent things that need to be done, like replacing the leaking fuel line. (Things that can cause big KABOOMS get done first!) There are other things that need to be done, like pass the state's vehicle safety inspection, so that you can get to work. Then, there are things that will wait until later, like paint (but, really: who paints an entire truck white but runs out of paint right at the end, leaving a gray door? Are you kidding?)

It's all intertwined. The must-dos, the need-to-dos, and the dream list all compete for time along with family, work, and chores. What you do in one area affects the others. (Note: do not try to combine family time with truck repair time. A four-year-old does not 'help' with any part of repair. You will not have quality family time or quality repair time. Just. Don't. Try. It.)

Jeep ownership is even twining itself into matters of the house and yard. With the fuel leak, the various parking spots of the truck are evident. See the photo below.

Those aren't spots caused by the neighbor's dogs peeing on the grass (or Toddler. He doesn't pee in the grass. Mommy encourages him to pee on the flower garden. She says it's to keep the deer away. I think she's training him to be a redneck.) There are dead-grass craters like this every where the truck has been parked. I'm trying to figure out if I should dig up the dead grass and reseed or just dig a hole and plant some perennials (maybe peonies, geraniums, or daisies) - there'd be random flowers all over the side yard!

So there you have it -  Jeeps come in and get caught right up in the big spider web of life. Maybe all of this intertwining could go a little way toward explaining why my fingernails now have grease under them all the time or why there is a 9/16" hex-shaped bruise on my forehead.....

Rattle and Hum

Rattle and Hum - not U2's sixth album, but a part of the symphony of sound that plays when the J-Truck rolls down the road. Tap, tap starts the gas pedal. Whirr of the starter brings in the blatty roar of the leaky exhaust as the gears section slowly pitches up into a wonderful crescendo.

The music of an old truck is certainly fine, but the driving of an old truck is sometimes um....adventurous. I knew that there was a lot of work to be done on the old girl, but a few things are surprises.

- Fuel line. After driving sixty miles and refilling the tank with almost seven gallons of gas, a slight problem with fuel mileage seemed evident. Even a tired old six cylinder should be able to pull off almost fifteen miles per gallon - not nine. Sitting at the family dinner table with the sunset gleaming off the beautiful truck in the driveway, the problem became clear. Every four seconds, there was a drop of gasoline falling off the broken fuel line onto the ground.  Put that one to the top of the repair list!

-Death Wobble. At approximately 45mph, the right front tire starts a violent shaking that makes one think that the truck will fall apart right that instant if you don't slow down immediately. Not feeling like a balance problem - will be tearing down and inspecting the front axle this weekend.

-Random shit falling right off the truck. Nothing shakes the calm, confident feeling of slowly (remember the death wobble) piloting a classic rig down the road like having bits and pieces of that truck fall off. On the trip to work this morning, the plastic lens that covers the instrument panel just 'click' - fell right over. Hmmm...okay, we'll just set that aside on the seat here for a few minutes. Half a mile down the road, the instrument panel itself falls straight down behind the dash, leaving only the "50" of the speedo visible. Dang it - I need that thing. No other way to tell if I'm accelerating into the Death Wobble Zone! Imagine how it must look to other road users to see the driver of a 40-year-old truck weaving back and forth across the road as he grapples with something behind the dash while reaching through the spokes of a giant, boat-sized steering wheel. Yup - I'm just glad that the cops were off somewhere else.

More surprises to come, I'm sure. The adventure continues!

Truck

Psst! Over here! That other blog is full of NorthernToddler stuff - no room for pictures of things like trucks. This truck has been on-site for a week, and I've finally taken a photo or two of it. (Too busy with fixing it and other responsibilities to take pictures.)

This old truck (three years older than me!) is going to serve its new role well - as soon as the repairs are complete. There is a long list of things that need to be done before it can pass inspection, and another list of things to be done to make it do its work better. First on the list? Get green license plates for it. Second? Fix that unholy roar from the leaky exhaust - it's insane!