Some days, ordinary days, turn into unexpected adventures. I got up at 4 a.m. on Wednesday and had every intention of being in Lubbock for an 8 a.m. appointment. It was just a followup at the dermatologist but one must cross times zones during the 2 1/2 hour jaunt, thus the road beckoned at 4:30. I decided to stop at a truck-stop about 100 miles out for some mints and a pack of gum. Jumped back in the truck and was serenaded with an awful whirring sound at the turn of the key. What in tarnation?! WHIRRR. Good gravy! WHIRRR. Sigh. Look under hood.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my knight in shining armor was planning a morning horseback on the north end of the ranch, picking up bulls. However, he was just loading his horse when I called and attempted to describe my dilemma. Maybe I was out of diesel additive. However, I was certain the truck had not thrown me any codes alluding to such. So I sauntered back into the shop and pulled a box of Blue Def that had been mocking me from the window display and added that.
The truck DID throw a code in the form of a little yellow thing-a-ma-jig so I pulled the manual and looked that up. Something about the onboard diagnostics system has detected a malfunction and something about the emission control system and contact your dealer. Not helping. Thank you.
The truck answered: WHIRRR.
I replied: GRRR. Two of us can play this game.
Meanwhile, several kind strangers stopped to offer their help and advice. 4 of them suggested I contact the mechanic down the road a piece so I called. No answer. So I trudged down the road a piece to said mechanic and peeked inside. No luck. Sigh.
At some point I had called DH again. He unloaded his horse, unhooked the trailer, and was headed my way. It takes a few minutes to drive 100 miles. He pulled into the mechanic's lot and picked me up, drove to the truck-stop / convenience store and began his assessment. At the turn of the key, he said, "Starter's not engaging". He crawled under the pickup to take a look-see.
I happened to glance over and see a truck pulling into the mechanic. We popped over there and DH and he had a quick visit before we popped back to the truck. DH hooked me up and towed me over to Thomas. In a tiny West Texas town, first names come with the territory. In fact, Thomas can expect a batch of fresh baked cookies next time I'm driving though. 😉
So man #2 climbs under and around the truck, removing a frightening number of bolts.
Yes, it's the starter. He located one in another tiny West Texas town 20 miles away and he ought to have me on the road after dinner. I told DH to head back home and I'd occupy myself. I told Thomas to give me a job. I'm a good broom pusher. But he and DH visited and continued to peek and poke and prod into the problematic issue at hand. Thomas fetched a handy dandy camera that allowed him to view the flywheel and low and behold flywheel teeth were broken or missing or just not doing what flywheel teeth are designed to do. Which if I understand, they actually allow the starter to engage and move your vehicle. Kind of important. We've never had this problem before and really should not have it at all in a 5 year old truck. Thomas said he's never seen it in a truck that has only 70,000. It's a diesel so 70,000 miles is not much. He could order parts, but it'd be pert near next week before it'd be ready.
DH said we'd just run it to our local mechanic, even though he was impressed with Thomas, because this little town was quite a ways from our home turf. But if you're gonna have truck trouble in the middle of nowhere, this is a pretty good place to have it.
Thomas was able to turn the flywheel just enough that the starter engaged and the engine purred like a kitten at the turn of the key and we were on our way.
After being privy to a number of conversations between DH and friendly mechanics, I've come to realize that sometimes progress is not progress. Used to be you could actually work on a truck, and you didn't have to go replacing parts on a 5-yr old truck that cost more than my parents' first house.
So, once on the road and 130 miles later, we left the truck at Mark's (more cookies) where Austin (man #3) was fixing to crawl under the truck.
Each day has it's bumps and blessings. Today my bumps turned into blessings. When it comes time to pay the bill, I'll have to look a little harder for said blessings, but today, I'm thankful for men under trucks... and an oven that works because I'm going to be busy baking cookies.
