What A Difference A Hose Makes
I was driving along Austin Bluffs two nights ago, on my way to the theater to catch the midnight showing of King Kong (which was almost too awesome for words, by the way). So anyway, I'm just drivin' along, mindin' my own business, not a care in the world, when all of a sudden my car refuses to shift higher than first gear. So, being the natural car guy I am, I decided it just wasn't getting the proper motivation, and pressed harder on the gas. This succeeded in revving my engine almost to the redline, but not in making my car go any faster. About 90 seconds later, the car wasn't accelerating at all, and I was basically coasting. I was able to pull into a retail parking lot, all the while going about 6 miles an hour, and stopped in a parking space.
Then, I began to see steam coming out from under the hood. Being the optimist I am, I just assumed it was overheating, or that possibly I had forgotten to press hard enough on the coolant tank cap and it was sloshing on the hot engine. That wouldn't have explained the whole "not shifting" thing, but I didn't really want to think about that. A guy whose name I would later learn was Mario came out of Old Heidelberg, a bakery in the strip mall where I was stranded, with a bucket of water. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who assumed it was overheating. This made me happy.
Then, after Mario checked around for a few minutes, and after I noticed the huge, growing puddle of something that definitely wasn't coolant under the front of my car, we discovered that I had a transmission fluid leak. This made me sad. At the time, I remember thinking that that was obvious, given the fact that it would not shift gears, and I should have known that earlier. Such is the male mind. "Oh, you mean THAT? Well, of course I knew THAT was the problem. Jeez. I was thinking it was a much more complicated problem than THAT."
I called my parents, who gave me a bunch of crap about me "not waiting another two months to get the car checked out after the 'check engine' light goes on," or something like that. I was too busy being excited about King Kong. I had to get a ride with Jon, and he ended up driving my sorry butt all over town that night, and even put me up for the night after the movie. Seriously, what a great friend.
Then came the next day. Or as I like to call it, the worst day I've had all year. I came close to that day when I locked myself out of my car twice and lost my job, all within six hours. Anyway, my dad took the time out of his schedule to pick me up in the morning and get the whole car thing straightened out. We called the insurance company for a tow at 11 o'clock that morning. They told us a truck would be by in about three hours. Three hours! In the middle of a city with 500,000 people, who are getting towed to garages all over the city on a regular basis, we apparently had to wait for a tow truck to come from Billings, Montana.
Well, after the first two hours, my dad had to go back to work, so I just had to sit in the car by myself. You know, it's not as fun as you might think. After discovering that I cannot, in fact, say "Unique New York" five times fast without sounding like a stroke victim, and discovering that, given a little time a some strategic positioning, I can fit into the trunk of my own car, I became bored out of my mind. Three and a half hours after the initial call to the insurance company was made (don't ever go with Liberty Mutual Insurance; I think they have running office bets on exactly how long you can go before you kill yourself out of sheer frustration), the tow truck guy finally showed up. The car got dropped off at Colorado Transmissions, and we got to go home for the day. At 3:30 pm.
Today, I got a call from my dad saying the total is 80 some-odd bucks. Not too bad. I was just grateful I didn't need a new transmission. Turns out all I needed was some new hose. Can you believe that? Three days irrevocably affected because of some $20 hose with a crack in it. Un-be-freaking-lievable. I learned my lesson, though. Next time the check engine light comes on, I'm gonna be all over it. And I'm keeping a book or something in my car at all times so I have something to do if I ever get stranded in the middle of the Springs again.
Then, I began to see steam coming out from under the hood. Being the optimist I am, I just assumed it was overheating, or that possibly I had forgotten to press hard enough on the coolant tank cap and it was sloshing on the hot engine. That wouldn't have explained the whole "not shifting" thing, but I didn't really want to think about that. A guy whose name I would later learn was Mario came out of Old Heidelberg, a bakery in the strip mall where I was stranded, with a bucket of water. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who assumed it was overheating. This made me happy.
Then, after Mario checked around for a few minutes, and after I noticed the huge, growing puddle of something that definitely wasn't coolant under the front of my car, we discovered that I had a transmission fluid leak. This made me sad. At the time, I remember thinking that that was obvious, given the fact that it would not shift gears, and I should have known that earlier. Such is the male mind. "Oh, you mean THAT? Well, of course I knew THAT was the problem. Jeez. I was thinking it was a much more complicated problem than THAT."
I called my parents, who gave me a bunch of crap about me "not waiting another two months to get the car checked out after the 'check engine' light goes on," or something like that. I was too busy being excited about King Kong. I had to get a ride with Jon, and he ended up driving my sorry butt all over town that night, and even put me up for the night after the movie. Seriously, what a great friend.
Then came the next day. Or as I like to call it, the worst day I've had all year. I came close to that day when I locked myself out of my car twice and lost my job, all within six hours. Anyway, my dad took the time out of his schedule to pick me up in the morning and get the whole car thing straightened out. We called the insurance company for a tow at 11 o'clock that morning. They told us a truck would be by in about three hours. Three hours! In the middle of a city with 500,000 people, who are getting towed to garages all over the city on a regular basis, we apparently had to wait for a tow truck to come from Billings, Montana.
Well, after the first two hours, my dad had to go back to work, so I just had to sit in the car by myself. You know, it's not as fun as you might think. After discovering that I cannot, in fact, say "Unique New York" five times fast without sounding like a stroke victim, and discovering that, given a little time a some strategic positioning, I can fit into the trunk of my own car, I became bored out of my mind. Three and a half hours after the initial call to the insurance company was made (don't ever go with Liberty Mutual Insurance; I think they have running office bets on exactly how long you can go before you kill yourself out of sheer frustration), the tow truck guy finally showed up. The car got dropped off at Colorado Transmissions, and we got to go home for the day. At 3:30 pm.
Today, I got a call from my dad saying the total is 80 some-odd bucks. Not too bad. I was just grateful I didn't need a new transmission. Turns out all I needed was some new hose. Can you believe that? Three days irrevocably affected because of some $20 hose with a crack in it. Un-be-freaking-lievable. I learned my lesson, though. Next time the check engine light comes on, I'm gonna be all over it. And I'm keeping a book or something in my car at all times so I have something to do if I ever get stranded in the middle of the Springs again.
posted by Vaughan at
11:56 AM
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