|New house meets apartment.|
We arrived at my uncle's house with no problems. Up to the top of the mountain, we exchanged trucks and got the low down on his six-speed diesel. The week before I had determined Bunny, my Honda Ridgeline, had earned her "big, big truck" badge for hauling motorcycles back up to Mammoth and then towing 7,000 pounds of rock to the yard. She may have a badge, but John's truck is truly a BIG BIG TRUCK. I listened diligently to all the rules such as "don't give it gas," it has an accelerator system, probably start in second gear, the gas gauge doesn't work, so don't take it lower than 1/2-ish, use the engine brake when going down hill, etc, etc. I was intimidated but we could do this!
Our only snafu was with Bunny as we did attempt to remove the ball from our tow hitch which did not go so well, but while John obsessed I got to hang with the girls so all was good. Home we go, making the day an 8ish hour adventure. We were about 30 minutes from home when some guy comes screaming up the side of the truck. Now in LA traffic this just means he is going 15 MPH as we are practically sitting still. He announces that our "fuel pump is hanging." Chris diligently pulls over and I run around the back of the truck. See, John keeps two huge built in gas pumps in his truck, one for regular, one for diesel. I assume the pump for one of those were hanging but neither was. Oh, well. Crazy guy, back in the truck.
About 4 minutes from home Chris hears and feels a big "clunk." Not good, but things are in the road all the time in LA, the truck is still running we must be good. As we unload Chris is about to take off to run a few errands so we can leave first thing in the AM. Best laid plans and all that, his car battery is dead. In all fairness it has been sitting for a week and has a faulty interior light that likes to turn itself on. Either that or the ghost of his grandmother watching over us, either way, the battery was dead, dead, dead. The auto car lock clicker won't even work. As I wait for the elevator to take our bags to our apartment he is going to pull the truck over to jump start the car. He arrives back at the elevator with wide-eyed look of "oh, crap!" Come to find out the "fuel pump" the man had been speaking of was actual the fuel pump for the truck that was now hanging down off the bottom of the truck. Not good.
A quick call to my uncle and all we need is a bolt, a locking nut and some baling wire. No problem, IF we had a running car. As we wait for AAA for the jump-start, we inspect the underside of the truck. Chris remains befuddled as there are two holes but they don't line up. I share with him, John knew all too quickly exactly what I was referring to, so he has probably done something funky and we should just do what he says. We determine we will pack tonight and get everything together in the morning as fast as possible. Adventure number one.
|One the road.....|
|Mammoth house meets Carson home.|
TO BE CONTINUED......