Such a small leak, a dollar size pancake, you should hardly notice. That’s what I told B.O.U.R.Girl ’cause I didn’t want her to obsess over the weekend. She’s coming off of a previous relationship with a bad leak. The pink fluid on the garage is either transmission or AWD clutch over-run.

The auto-stick is an improvement over the ‘old’ car. It knows to hold 1st gear after a stop light. Also, you can optionally select 2nd (or even 3rd gear) from a dead stop which would minimize wheel spin when starting on mud / snow / ice.

Hank, from the shop says, it’s a seal and he “hain’t seen that kinda problem yet – better leave it with us overnight.” Gota just stop the bleeding.

Sue, across from us was wringing her hands. Her daughter’s old Blazer 4 x 4, now derelict and since replaced by a newer ride, died and has been stationary in the driveway for weeks. The cost to tow and repair said beater would likely exceed its residual worth. She cranked the worn V-6 which sputtered but spewed raw fuel from a split in cracked and rotted fuel hose line. Sue asked if it’s okay to drive and I replied yeah — so long as nobody flicks a cigarette butt your way at an intersection stop light 😉 Do you feel lucky? (said with Clint Eastwood impersonation). I knew it would be an easy fix. But I kept that to myself, not keen on making a parts run to the Pep Boys nor crawling under the belly of the beast for a guaranteed dowsing of fuel. We discussed scenarios and I walked (ran) away.

By the end of the day, however, S’man and I rose to the challenge and had it fixed. It became a father and son project. Conveniently, a section of NOS fuel line from a previous repair was discovered in my garage. My idea was that he’d do the work and I’d supervise. The job required cutting out the old fuel filter with exacto, screw driver, clamps, and a flash light. A third hand (mine) was used to plug the dike while splicing in two new hose sections. Very low hassle factor, as it turns out, but I was right about the other. We both totally reek of gas.

No mind. The fumes will dissipate in a few days. Sue and her daughter loaded us up with praise, gratitude, admiration, and some leftover baked lasagna dinner.

S’ man gets behind the wheel and likes it. After a few laps around the boatyard: “That was really cool Dad!”, he says grinning. He’d never really expressed the desire before so it was spontaneous when he asked if I thought it’d be alright. And away he went. SOLO

It began with so much delight and excitement. We were careful to select one (6 miles on the odo) that had not been demonstrated or hot rodded by lot boyz. Since the selling dealer was over a hundred miles away, we took the train — a rare adventure happening in itself. We picked up our new wheels and we were tickled. We gave it the TLC.

Now the bloom has blown off and, sad to say, soon it will be split city. Over the months we’ve uncovered it’s defective nature. Hero to zero in 41 months. The factory attempted numerous fixes but never found permanent remedy. Each occurrence resulted in spectacular failure with emergency calls for roadside assist. It is for the courts to decide now, but when it’s all been said and done we will miss the badboy. Every time I hear a train whistle during the still morning hours, I will remember our fun.