The Joys of Vehicle Self Maintenance - or - Why I've missed Gathering the past few days.

I own a 1986 Chevrolet S-10 4x4 long-bed pickup truck. Her name is Chuck, and I love her dearly.

For more than just financial reasons I do most of the mechanical work on her when she needs it. Unfortunately, I am poor at maintaining her. The following incident could have been avoided.

Wednesday morning, while on the way back from dropping Donna off at work, I made a turn on to one of the roads of our back country commute when Chuck backfired and started loosing power.

"Oh Crud!"

I coasted in to the entrance of a trailer park and rolled out of the way to the right before stopping. Smoke was not rolling out from anywhere and a quick walk around the truck showed no fluids gushing. All of that was a relief and meant the problem was probably electrical or fuel flow related.

I popped the hood and removed the air cleaner. By climbing up on the bumper I could look down the carburetor and see fuel jetting as I worked the linkage with my hand.

That means the problem was likely electrical. From my perch over the carburetor I could also see the distributor cap. As I ran my hands over the wires to make sure they were all seated my fingers grazed jagged plastic and the problem was revealed. The distributor cap had cracked. Actually, it had more of a blow-out.

With a screwdriver I released the cap's clips and carefully lifted it off. Underneath is a plastic disc with metal contacts. It's called the rotor, and mine was broken and a little melted. Modern cars have sealed distributor caps, old vehicles like Chuck do not. Chuck's cap and rotor are supposed to be changed with every bi-annual tune-up. In the three years I've owned her I had never changed her cap and rotor.

I called Donna from my cell phone and she called her kids to see which ones could come and help. "God Love 'Em." Several phone calls later Donna's daughter Jamie and her boyfriend Eric came up to run me to the auto parts store to get a new cap and rotor. Scott, Donna's son, has a fair amount of auto mechanic experience and said to call if I ended up needing more help. Like I said, "God Love 'Em."

A new cap and rotor had Chuck purring like a kitten and three hours after we broke down, we were back on the road again.

Then came Thursday.

Chuck has been having on-going problems with one of her brakes. I replaced the caliper (twice) and still had problems with the brakes sticking on that wheel. I finally told a guy at the auto parts store (the one who seemed bright, friendly, knowledgeable and close to my age) about the problem I was having. Three sentences in to my explanation he interrupted to say "Change the brake hose."

I stared at him a moment letting the words echo around my empty noggin. "Brake Hose... Hmmm.."

"The hoses are double lined." he continued to explain, "When they get old the inner lining separates and splays inside the hose. This causes it to act like a check valve letting fluid pass to push the caliper's piston out but then won't let the fluid back-up when the piston is supposed to retract."

"Ahh.." I said like Archimedes.

So, after purchasing sixty dollars worth of parts and accessories, six more hours of busting my knuckles on bolts, and being coated in brake fluid, Chuck's brake problem was solved.

Part of me really enjoys working on my own vehicle. I get frustrated by stubborn nuts and bolts, and cuss and swear at the lack of just the right tool, but there is a great feeling of accomplishment when the job is successfully done. Mixed with the smell of grease and sweat and the annoying black crud under the fingernails is a feeling of self-sufficiency. "I fixed it." glows inside.

So, despite the pains, frustrations and aggravations, I value these experiences deeply. Finding a sense of Zen in auto maintenance.

Next job: replacing the brake rotor that became scarred, pitted and grooved.

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