So There I was…

Once more I had issues with the truck. I love Vera (if you love firefly…) and she is great to work on, but sometimes she gets issues and I am not yet skilled at playing mechanic to always diagnose them. Also, sometimes, one issue is masked by another, and I fix one but the other persists, so I believe the first issue isn’t really solved.

So fuel filter issues should have been solved but still had trouble starting, this culminated in two attempts to start and the truck simply didn’t have the juice to turn the starter, once with another vehicle jumpered to her

The second time this happened, I told my wife that I had to change out the starter (thankfully under warranty) and get a new battery (just to be sure–Vera takes two to get her going). So today I got word the auto supply store ‘Canadian Tire’ had the new stater in, and I could go get it.

I managed to get Vera to turn over – just – and drove to the next town. I pulled into the parking lot – way off to the side – and taking my tools, went to work. I popped the leads off the batteries (hey, one had to come right out anyway) and then shimmied under the truck. I used to own a ford ranger, low as a sports car. Now I have Vera, a f-250 that stands high off the ground. Taking off the starter was no more tricky than that one bolt that is always impossible to see or feel and twice that to reach with  wrench.

There I was in the parking lot of an auto supply store pulling my starter…I felt like such a -a – GUY!,

So I brought the, still hot, starter in and dropped it on the service desk and they swapped for a new one. I grabbed my new battery and went right back out. Slipped the new starer into place, laying on my back in the parking lot, then put in the new battery, hooked it all up and with a sense of pride, and, yes, dread, got behind the wheel.

I slid the key in and with a few kind words to Vera, turned the key. Now I’m not willing to jinx the thing by saying it’s all fixed, but I will say she started up real damn easy, as she did at the grocery store, and the fuel pump.

I’ve washed of the grease, and road dirt. I’ve peeled off that dirty shirt, and yet, part of me still wants to beat my chest and bellow my defiance into the air. I think that might just be tempting fate though. Maybe a nice glass of cold milk instead.

Filed under: MIscellaneous