Now, I’m not a real Gear Head, Like Don, but I try. Sometime’s I’m even successful which surprises me when it happens. Such was the case today when, left unsupervised, while Diane took her Mom to the doctor to check out her head, I left the house brimming with confidence that I would accomplish my missions.
One of them was the old ’68 truck. As you may remember, I left it in a shambles with no electricity making it to the necessary wires that would ignite the engine. So, this morning, I went to work as if it wasn’t a problem, put it all back together, and it actually started right up. Oh, there’s a few extra wires hanging around, and I didn’t reinstall the radio or the heater controls, but it works. So do the turn signals, and the windshield wipers, the reason for dismantling it in the first place. One of the added benefits of getting the truck going was that I was able to move it so I could find the socket I dropped a couple of weeks ago. Many of you are probably surprised that I remembered to look for it.
I share this news as though everything went just as smooth as glass, but that’s not the case. I discovered what happens when the tiny little tube isn’t reconnected to the oil pressure gauge. Any guesses? Well, lets just say I’m no longer allowed to wear those sneakers in the house, and I’ll probably have to toss the socks I was wearing.
That reminds me … I should probably connect the speedo, too.
But it runs in an excellent manner.
From the truck I went directly to the ’79 Winnebago. It’s a tough bugger to get started but I know the trick. First I removed the engine cover inside the cab. Then I plunked myself into the driver’s seat and removed the air cleaner cover. That’s necessary in order to spray starting fluid into the carburetor, which I did. This is complicated, however, by the tricky ignition I’ve got. Actually, it’s not tricky. I had a button connected to the starter at some point in time, and it fell off one day. Since I’ve not found it necessary to reinstall it, I just turn the key on and hold the wires together, spraying starting fluid in the carburetor, until something ignites. So far, using that method, the only thing that ignites is the fuel in the engine. That’s because I really don’t spray while the engine is turning.
It started pretty quickly, surprising me, so I let it set and run until the exhausts quick smoking. That didn’t take as long as normal, either.
Then, I moved next door to the ’73 Winnebago to see if I could get it started. I know it will run, but it hasn’t been started in a while so I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
First, I needed to install one of the batteries just happen to have in the garage. There are three of them, and they all, happily still had a full charge which was applied before I gave my old battery charger away.
Before I took the battery out, however, I decided to do a little pruning. The border trees I parked next to were in the way so I just whacked a bunch of branches off until I could access the battery tray.
With the battery in place I randomly attached two of the four wires in the vicinity and achieved a satisfying spark indicating ‘something’ was connected. Back in the cabin, no matter how hard I turned the ignition key, I couldn’t get it to do anything. So, I went back out and disconnected the battery cables and contemplated which two to connect next. While pondering, I checked the battery terminals, noticing that they are a bit corroded, and the terminal ends of the cables previously used. Turns out the spark i achieved was thankfully brief because had it actually made adequate contact the battery would have imploded. The two I chose first created a direct short between the terminals.
The second and third time I was more careful. I discovered which two powered the 12V lighting, but using the 2nd positive cable still did not result in ignition. So, I figured Karma was telling me to go do something else. So, I did.
I removed the ’79 rig from the driveway so Diane’s Bunco Babes will be able to park 4 vehicles on the house side of the street. The latecomers will have to park across the street.
Now it’s getting late and I must terminate my activity for the day. Lydia has her first high school softball game today at 1630 and I must be there. I have 1.5 hours to get ready. Sadly, I can only watch 1/2 an hour of it because I have another PT session at 1700. Another reason I must quit is because Diane made it back home and reported that I “stink” of mechanical stuff and must wash.
So, I’ll do that.