It's been well documented that my mechanical skills, especially when it comes to automobiles, would grade out very poorly even on a steep curve. In the past, I've successfully been able to change the oil in a few of my vehicles, can change a flat on my tire given I'm not under any deadline and even change out a battery but that's about it.
Given the opportunity to put those limited skills to work, I'd prefer the cozy warmth of a heated shop, but twice in the last year or so I've had to showcase my remedial automobile knowledge, I had to do it on Mother Nature's terms and today I chalked up a third time, which was anything but a charm.
During the first blizzard of the 2008-09 winter season, as Teresa was off buying groceries for us to hunker down, I got the call many men with my lack of car repair acumen dread..."Honey, I have a flat," which I hoped were followed by the words "bread I'm hoping to try out for supper tonight," but they never came.
Cursing under my breath all the while I got my layer on to head out into the belly of the snow beast and all the drive down to the local grocery store where my better half was stranded with an ailing van, it eventually took me about an hour to get the tire changed. Forty-five minutes of that was spent just figuring out how to set the spare free and how to use her complicated jack. All the while fighting off snowflakes nearly as big as snowballs.
Earlier that winter, with much less snow but still rather frigid temps, I also had a flat on my pickup and had to change that in the downtown Mankato area, again taking an hour with most of that time devoted to spare and jack removal. A pathetic call was made to my brother, who worked just a couple blocks away, to ask him what he knew about under-the-back, spare-tire systems, hoping to sound desperate enough for him to say, "I'll be right down" like a big brother should, right? However, that attempt was unsuccessful, so I flew that trip solo.
Now changing the tire is no problem, I used to do it few times a year as a teen serving as my dad and big brother's pit crew during planting and harvest seasons back on the family farm. You loosen the lug nuts before you jack the tire up, quickly get the spare up and lined up, put the lug nuts on alternating sides...never one right next to the other. Hand tighten them as snug as you can, lower the jack, spinner wrench engaged and you're on your way.
It's getting the tire out that befuddles me, especially in the newer vehicles. You almost need to take a full semester course on how to read the section in owner's manual that covers bum wheels in order to prep you for that task of removing the spare. Every vehicle is different in the most confusing of ways.
Getting back to my motivation for writing this post. On my way to work this morning I stopped to pump some gas into my fuel-deprived pickup, and after a quick jaunt inside the local Holiday Station store for my 20 oz. Diet Pepsi and a couple of Granola bars (the breakfast of champion-wannabes!), I came out to learn my vehicle had decided to take the morning off right at the gas pump...or at least it's power source did as the battery was stone cold dead. A Good Samaritan tried in vain to jump start (red on positive! black on negative! is ingrained in my head) the ol' beast, but every time he "undid" the jumper cables my truck would reject the power transplant and flatline.
The minus-12 degree temperatures withstanding, I was fortunate there was a CarQuest nearby and the guys there went out of their way to get me a new battery, provide me with the proper tools (from the guy-behind-the-counter's own collection) and a ride back to my truck so I could bring it back to life. All the while Holiday cashiers were peering out the window in my direction wondering when this cash-stream dam was going get unblocked.
I'm proud to report after the CarQuest guy pointed out which tools to use, I had that battery swapped in and out in what probably was no time at all, but it felt a lot longer. Turning wrenches and ratchets in sub-zero temperatures means your margin for error in avoiding some pain is very low. A couple of times, I cussed out loud, but thankfully it was so cold the lady next to me ignored all posted warnings and prior 10 o'clock news special reports about the dangers of pumping gas while your car is running. I was thankful for that or I might have gotten a citation for unlawful use of expletives and/or dropping F-bombs in public.
At that temperature, which is the antithesis of hell, hand tightening bolts and screws is almost impossible as well. If they measured the pounds per square inch my fingers and hands were cranking out trying to squeeze together I would have gotten a reading of "Stop Tickling Me".
Eventually the battery was changed out and the tools and old battery were given back to the fine folks at our local CarQuest, when a new dilemma reared its ugly head. All of the warning lights and gauges on my dash were lighting up and going off like I had just won a huge jackpot playing a Mystic Lake slot machine. To top it all off, my car was sputtering like a kid with sand in his mouth.
So I sputtered a couple hundred feet over from the CarQuest store to my local mechanic, the guy who has the Midas touch without the hefty franchise fee. He could have siphoned big bucks off me by admitting my vehicle, because I had no clue what to do or what the prognosis was. He could have said "your blinker fluid needs changing" and I would have gladly paid hundreds if it meant a smoother running truck.
To make a long story from becoming a novella, after telling Mike the Mechanic my ordeal that morning he informed me that sometimes after a new battery is put in it takes the engine's computer system some time to reset itself and recommended taking a little jaunt down the 4-lane to get the truck's biorhythms back on track.
You know what? It worked like a charm as I was able to return to work with the truck I remembered so well, prior to its blacking out.
Such is life up here in the tundra and thank God we've got people like the CarQuest crew and Mike the Mechanic to gets us through it.
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