Wow, what a week. Last Tuesday, while loading my TR4A on the trailer
preparing for TRFest, I separated the muffler system. Sounded cool, but
don't think the cops would like it, and was fixable. I'll wait until
Flagstaff since it was 7 PM and I had other packing to do.
Around 9 PM my wife Pattie and I are watching TV and says she smells gas.
The tie down straps pinched a fuel line that dumped a half a tank of gas on
the ground. Yikes. Ten pounds of kitty litter was our savior. Wednesday
morning I was at O'Reillys when they opened getting 5/16" fuel line.
So, finally got to Flagstaff and the muffler and fuel line are fixed. I was
tinkering with my car when Jerry Fisher, who's 80, walked up and said the
motor blew on his 2000 and it's still in Blythe. The symptoms are clanking
noises, oil everywhere and a lot of black smoke.
Blythe? OMG. If you don't know where Blythe is, think of the gates to hell
(GTH), only worse. So, Jerry deservedly got the Uff Da award at Triumphest.
Anyway, I told Jerry we could pick his car up on the way home, put it on the
trailer and I'd drive my car back to San Diego. OK, we had a plan. We left
Flagstaff Sunday morning after another great Triumphest. I love the pine
trees.
Along the way Jerry started to get groin pains. I'm blaming the Starbucks we
stopped at just outside of Flagstaff. Anyway, the further we went the more
pain Jerry was in.
Got to the GTH, and was off-loading my car when it bottomed out and
separated the muffler again. Damn. Now we have two broken cars. Anyway, we
got Jerry's car loaded on the trailer. It was 106 deg outside. I think I
lost 10 pounds. Said "screw it" and we went to get lunch, somewhere with air
conditioning. I didn't want to get outside and fix the muffler again so I
started to look for a place to fix it. Roberto's Taco's and Tires was as
close as I could come to an open garage on Sunday in GTH, so I decided to
fix it myself and lose another 10 pounds. Jerry's groin pains were getting
worse.
Now, Pattie is driving the truck and trailer with the 2000 on it, Jerry and
his wife Betty are inside, while I'm ahead running the TR in 106 deg heat
through Desert Center, 104 through Indio and 103 through Palm Desert. Hey,
it's getting cooler. But, the water bottles are too hot to drink. My TR
starts losing oil and the pressure starts dropping. 60, 50, 40. Crap. Stop
at a rest stop outside of Palm Springs. Oil's coming out of the dip stick in
volumes. What a mess. Pattie tells me to wrap a shop towel around the dip
stick, jamb it in, and I obey. Added two quarts of oil and pressed on.
Jerry's pain's worse and has to knell on the floorboards because he can't
sit.
We originally planned to drop off the 2000 at the mechanics that evening.
About 25 miles north of San Diego Pattie calls me and says we have a change
of plans. We're headed to Grossmont Hospital instead. Go faster. We get
there. Try finding a parking spot for a truck and trailer, and a TR dumping
oil. Good luck.
It's now 9 PM and Jerry's granddaughter arrives, so Pattie and I leave
knowing they're in good hands. I nurse my TR into our driveway as Pattie
eases the truck/trailer/2000 in front of our house. 10 PM, 14 hours from
when we started. Surprisingly, I felt good.
I just talked to Jerry this evening and he's OK. Something was blocked. Damn
that Starbucks! Betty's relieved. Jerry's car is still on the trailer. We'll
take it to the mechanic tomorrow. Mine will get worked on this weekend.
But, we're all home and alive, and that's what counts. The TR's are another
story. Uff Da.
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