Hmmm. Last time I had a flat tire was around '85. Had a brake line rust out at school once. Drove 50 miles home using the parking brake (and service brake for brake light) and put a new line in. Once drove from Worcester to Manchester to a gun show, and determined a rear bearing had failed. Stopped at home on the way back and spent 20 minutes putting in my spare axle.
Best road-side repair happened when the timing chain on my '66 Gutless jumped one tooth too many. 6 bent pushrods and 9 collapsed lifters; that engine sure did screech! Some friends ofered to help, so I had it towed down there. Changed the motor on the side of the road. Someone driving by hauled the old motor away.
Maybe the only *true* roadside repair (or attempt) was trying to fix my brother's '76 Volare. For several hours. On Christmas morning. At -20F. Damn that was cold! The worst part was we failed. Couldn't make it go. I *think* it turned out to be the starter.
Then there was the reason I had that spare axle to begin with. Had done a brake stand of a couple hundred feet. Was cool. Then I did one of perhaps 20 feet. That RR tire was smokin'! Speedo was readin' 60 or better. Rubber bits a couple inches thick in the wheel well. Then a "clunk!". Jack, pull the tire off. Burn hands on drum (Doh!). Didn't find anything obvious. Then, during a drive to Worcester, the rear wheels locked up whilst driving. Funny. I could turn right under power, but everytime I tried to turn left under power, the wheels locked up. Yet I could *coast* was turning left. So, I adapted, drove back home later (50 miles), parked next to curb, put it in park and got out. And immediately jumped back in because the damn car wouldn't stay put.
Put a boneyard rear-end in. Opened the old cover and a large metallic object fell out. I still have that spider gear in my collection of curios.
Now that I think about it, there was that time with the F150 in the rest area in CO. Winter. -20F. Climbed in the back seat and slept soundly and hot. (4" of down'll keep *anyone warm!) Awoke in the morning and the podgy thing wouldn't start. Independent me tries to push it manually. Hah! At that temp, I was only able to push it out of the slot. Couldn't move it after that.
Fortunately the DOT guy was in his warm cabin. After assuring him that he was unlikey to further damage my rear bumper, he gave me a mighty push. Damn thing *still* wouldn't start! Oh. DOH! Turn the key on, you idiot! It started staightaway. I thanked him and headed on to A-basin for a few days of skiing. (As it later turned out, the 'EVP relay' was faulty, causing no spark whilst cranking; it usually started because the engine turned enough *after* cranking to start. )
I guess I've been lucky. Haven't really had anything that *truly* left me stranded. I've always been able to cuss, kick, jury-rig or ignore problems and get to where I was going.
Thus ends this episode of "Fest3er's Adventures On the Road. " Tune in next yeek for his continuing adventures.
Fest3er
Best road-side repair happened when the timing chain on my '66 Gutless jumped one tooth too many. 6 bent pushrods and 9 collapsed lifters; that engine sure did screech! Some friends ofered to help, so I had it towed down there. Changed the motor on the side of the road. Someone driving by hauled the old motor away.
Maybe the only *true* roadside repair (or attempt) was trying to fix my brother's '76 Volare. For several hours. On Christmas morning. At -20F. Damn that was cold! The worst part was we failed. Couldn't make it go. I *think* it turned out to be the starter.
Then there was the reason I had that spare axle to begin with. Had done a brake stand of a couple hundred feet. Was cool. Then I did one of perhaps 20 feet. That RR tire was smokin'! Speedo was readin' 60 or better. Rubber bits a couple inches thick in the wheel well. Then a "clunk!". Jack, pull the tire off. Burn hands on drum (Doh!). Didn't find anything obvious. Then, during a drive to Worcester, the rear wheels locked up whilst driving. Funny. I could turn right under power, but everytime I tried to turn left under power, the wheels locked up. Yet I could *coast* was turning left. So, I adapted, drove back home later (50 miles), parked next to curb, put it in park and got out. And immediately jumped back in because the damn car wouldn't stay put.
Put a boneyard rear-end in. Opened the old cover and a large metallic object fell out. I still have that spider gear in my collection of curios.
Now that I think about it, there was that time with the F150 in the rest area in CO. Winter. -20F. Climbed in the back seat and slept soundly and hot. (4" of down'll keep *anyone warm!) Awoke in the morning and the podgy thing wouldn't start. Independent me tries to push it manually. Hah! At that temp, I was only able to push it out of the slot. Couldn't move it after that.
Fortunately the DOT guy was in his warm cabin. After assuring him that he was unlikey to further damage my rear bumper, he gave me a mighty push. Damn thing *still* wouldn't start! Oh. DOH! Turn the key on, you idiot! It started staightaway. I thanked him and headed on to A-basin for a few days of skiing. (As it later turned out, the 'EVP relay' was faulty, causing no spark whilst cranking; it usually started because the engine turned enough *after* cranking to start. )
I guess I've been lucky. Haven't really had anything that *truly* left me stranded. I've always been able to cuss, kick, jury-rig or ignore problems and get to where I was going.
Thus ends this episode of "Fest3er's Adventures On the Road. " Tune in next yeek for his continuing adventures.
Fest3er