Tuesday I pulled my 2001 Ram into the garage to put a fifth wheel hitch on it. The camper dealer wanted over six hundred to install it. So decided to do it myself. I had to park the Plymouth outside, covered it up with a car cover the neighbor gave me he used on a Mustang. It covered the trunk and the roof, and I anchored it down on the hood with a couple of small bricks. We had a deep freeze and four inches of snow, so I felt bad that she had to be out in the weather.
I set to work on the truck and soon found out I needed to remove the gas tank, to get to the mounting bolts for the hitch, the tank had about ten gallons in it. It was OK as I found the rear brake line behind the tank heavyly rusted. And I decided to replace the fuel pump as a maintenance thing, but NAPA had none and to top it off they claimed that there was three different pumps. I just went the easy route and went to the local dealer who had to order it. This again was last Tuesday.
So here I sit with future appointments to get to as did the wife with only one operable daily driver. Come Wednesday and the pump still had not come in. To top it off I started her car to warm it up and it cranked slow in the fifteen degree temperature. The rest of the day it started fine. The battery was a five year Intersate with three years on it.
Today, Thursday morning, the car was totaly dead. And the pickup wasn't going anywhere. So that left the Belvedere. How I hated the thought of it getting salt on it not to mention the slush. I pulled the cover off and drove her and her friend to bowling the alley. On the way she asked if there was enough gas, and I told her between a half and a quarter, plenty of gas. I went to my appointment, and then stopped to visit someone.
Time to pick Linda up and the car ran good so far. We loaded car and proceded to the other woman's house. I stopped at a light only to have the car stall. She never fired a lick, and with the gauge at a quarter I figured it was out of gas, and with a half a dozen cars behind me at the light to. Luckily there was a gas station at the light. The can cost me twelve bucks plus a gallon of gas. It fired right up once the gas was in and I drove into the station and put the last of my cash in the tank. Had the car stopped past that station, there wasn't another within about five miles. Apparently the new gas sending unit I put in last year is off by a quarter.
We dropped off the other woman, the car ran well all the way home.
It was still in the teens temp wise and I had to contend with her dead battery. She steered as I pushed the Impala outside, jumped it off the Plymouth, and drove it to Goodyear for another Interstate battery. However, they not only don't carry that brand they don't stock any batteries. Went across the street to a garage and they stocked NAPA batteries. Since the Interstate store was ten miles away and it was already five, I had them install the NAPA with a five year life. A hundred and sixty six dollars latter I was on my way home.
I know I could have just driven to the local NAPA and bought a battery and install it myself, but damn it's just so cold out there. Onece home I paused while the garage door went up to only glance at the Belveder sitting it the drive, with salt spary on the body, and not doubting slush up in the underside of the fenders. I'm trying not to think about it sitting there in the drive until the pickup gets done which may not be until next week. Sniff...
I set to work on the truck and soon found out I needed to remove the gas tank, to get to the mounting bolts for the hitch, the tank had about ten gallons in it. It was OK as I found the rear brake line behind the tank heavyly rusted. And I decided to replace the fuel pump as a maintenance thing, but NAPA had none and to top it off they claimed that there was three different pumps. I just went the easy route and went to the local dealer who had to order it. This again was last Tuesday.
So here I sit with future appointments to get to as did the wife with only one operable daily driver. Come Wednesday and the pump still had not come in. To top it off I started her car to warm it up and it cranked slow in the fifteen degree temperature. The rest of the day it started fine. The battery was a five year Intersate with three years on it.
Today, Thursday morning, the car was totaly dead. And the pickup wasn't going anywhere. So that left the Belvedere. How I hated the thought of it getting salt on it not to mention the slush. I pulled the cover off and drove her and her friend to bowling the alley. On the way she asked if there was enough gas, and I told her between a half and a quarter, plenty of gas. I went to my appointment, and then stopped to visit someone.
Time to pick Linda up and the car ran good so far. We loaded car and proceded to the other woman's house. I stopped at a light only to have the car stall. She never fired a lick, and with the gauge at a quarter I figured it was out of gas, and with a half a dozen cars behind me at the light to. Luckily there was a gas station at the light. The can cost me twelve bucks plus a gallon of gas. It fired right up once the gas was in and I drove into the station and put the last of my cash in the tank. Had the car stopped past that station, there wasn't another within about five miles. Apparently the new gas sending unit I put in last year is off by a quarter.
We dropped off the other woman, the car ran well all the way home.
It was still in the teens temp wise and I had to contend with her dead battery. She steered as I pushed the Impala outside, jumped it off the Plymouth, and drove it to Goodyear for another Interstate battery. However, they not only don't carry that brand they don't stock any batteries. Went across the street to a garage and they stocked NAPA batteries. Since the Interstate store was ten miles away and it was already five, I had them install the NAPA with a five year life. A hundred and sixty six dollars latter I was on my way home.
I know I could have just driven to the local NAPA and bought a battery and install it myself, but damn it's just so cold out there. Onece home I paused while the garage door went up to only glance at the Belveder sitting it the drive, with salt spary on the body, and not doubting slush up in the underside of the fenders. I'm trying not to think about it sitting there in the drive until the pickup gets done which may not be until next week. Sniff...
