My car radiator developed a leak about two months ago, although leak is the wrong word. Leak implies a slow, steady drip and what really happened could be better described as “torrential, geyser-like, and/or relentless.” Due to the poverty imposed by paying for my grad school course out of my own pocket, I parked the car for a few months and became a motorcycle-0nly commuter. This decision was advantageous for several reasons!
- Riding a motorcycle is fun.
- Riding a motorcycle is very inexpensive. $8 for a week’s worth of gas is awesome.
- Riding a motorcyle makes you look cool.
However, this decision was made in early October and while the rest of the country might be experiencing the prelude to winter that is autumn, for us desert rats, October is still basically summer (except it’s not actually summer, because it’s “warm” rather than “Nazi-face-meltingly hot”).
When November rolled in and the temperature began to plummet, the good reasons for taking the motorcycle to work each day were gradually eclipsed by the fact that it’s very, very, very cold at eighty-five+ miles per hour when the thermometer is a blip above the freezing point of water. So fixing my Isuzu was something that was always on the back of my mind, though the cost of paying to have it done made it untenable.
Unless I did it myself!
Last week, I bought a new radiator. This past weekend, with qualified adult supervision (i.e. somebody who knows what the hell he’s actually doing), I found myself on my back in the dirt, wrenching and torquing and sawing and doing my best impression of “guy who can fix his own car.” Here are a few things that I learned during the process:
- You know how in Indiana Jones movies, the ancient switches and traps still function after thousands of years? That’s bullshit. It took me almost an hour to pry off a basic metal clamp because after twelve years, it had merged with the tube it was clamping. The tube and the clamp were as one. There’s no way an ancient stone pressure plate is going to slide down just because you picked up the treasure it was supporting.
- If you can’t get a metal clamp off after an hour of screwing and pulling (how very deviant sounding, but it’s really not), it’s okay to take a hacksaw and cut the damn thing off, since you’re replacing the tube anyway. This is immensely gratifying.
- I had no idea radiators and transmissions were even connected, but it turns out, they are!
- Old transmission fluid is really, really gross when it splatters on your face and collects in your hair.
- On the positive side, you’ll fit in with the motley citizenry of South Tucson when you go to buy replacement clamps because the first set of clamps no longer fit due to all the screwing and pulling you did earlier.
- The first store you go to will sell you the wrong clamps.
- The second store will have the right clamps, but will try to get you out of there as quickly as possible because you look and smell like a derelict.
- When it’s all said and done, you’ll feel absolutely awesome because you saved a few hundred dollars on labor.
- You’ll feel better still because of the strong feeling of self-reliance in doing your own work.
- You’ll be grateful to the person who supervised your efforts and made sure you didn’t accidentally hacksaw the brake cable, or something.
- You’ll cry out in rage and despair when you realize the next day that now you are leaking transmission fluid from somewhere.
Looks like it’ll be another cold ride tomorrow until I can get that fixed. Sigh.