Date: Mon, 4 Oct 2004 12:43:41 -0600
Reply-To: Joy Hecht <jhecht@ALUM.MIT.EDU>
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From: Joy Hecht <jhecht@ALUM.MIT.EDU>
Subject: Westy karma (was Help wanted!!!! here we go again - power
problems in Custer, SD
In-Reply-To: <007001c4a964$3843d5d0$6400a8c0@laptop>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Naah, it's not all solved yet. But I figured I'd send you all a nice story.
After I sent my email I figured there was no point sitting around Custer SD
watching my van in the parking lot on a Sunday, so I got on my bike to ride
off to the Buffalo Arts Festival at Custer State Park, some 15 miles away.
I took my computer and cellphone with me, 'cause I figured somewhere along
the way I'd have cellphone access, which I didn't have in Custer, and I
could check the emails.
So on top of a big hill a few miles out of Custer I try the cellphone, and
lo and behold it works great. Just imagine it, bike leaning on a post, me
cross-legged on the far edge of the shoulder on a 55 mph road, clicking away
on my laptop with my cellphone attached by a cord. I must have gotten some
pretty funny looks - definitely got a funny one from the one bicycle that
rode by.
Well I had a grand ride to the arts festival - after the first few miles of
hills it turned out to be one 10-mile-long 30 mph coast downhill all the way
there. Had a fun time there and all that, looked at crafts, sampled the
products of the chili cook-off, talked to nice folks, listened to music.
Then on the way back I decided there was NO WAY I could ride up a steep
ten-mile hill. Fortunately there's a lot of pickups around here, so
hitching a ride with my bike didn't seem that improbable. Well the big
empty pickups with lots of space and Republican bumper stickers didn't stop,
but then a Westy goes by! So I waved and stuck out my thumb and of course
they stopped, not even knowing about Matilda back in Custer. They were from
the southern corner of the Black Hills, they had a '87 which they had bought
new way back when, and they were very nice. Drove me back to my van,
discussed what the problem might be, etc. Not on the list, I don't think -
last name was Gamble and I'm afraid the first names went in one ear and out
the other, except for the little girl, who was named Scout - how could I
forget that?
Then I head for the public bathroom near where I was parked and see another
Westy. At first I thought it was the same folks, but no! So I walked up to
ask if they knew of any repair folks nearby, but the fellow wasn't local.
However, he offered to have a look. First we went for a drive, and she was
as bad as ever. Started okay for the first few blocks, then got worse and
worse. I had her up in 3rd gear, but not for long, she was bucking and
wheezing and generally feeble. Heading back to where we'd started, she
pretty much died in first gear. But I got her back in to the parking lot.
So he pulled out his voltage meter, I pulled out my Bentley, and we started
poking around. Disconnected the air flow meter, tested that and the
readings were normal, put it back together, whacked the fuel pump, looked
for any other obvious loose connections. After poking and prodding and
reattaching the air flow meter, he suggested I try driving again. So I
headed out for a drive, and all was great! For a couple of miles, anyway.
I tore up a Black Hill (Custer is in the Black Hills of SD) at 60 mph in
fourth gear, it was wonderful. I had dreams of getting to the buffalo
round-up in the state park Monday after all. Then she started bucking again
- misfiring, I guess I should say - and I turned around to go back. Had to
stop and turn off the engine three times en route and start her up again
(that helps, for some reason) to get back.
So we poked and prodded some more. My new Westy acquaintance, whose name I
still didn't know, opened up the distributor, said it could be that I need a
new distributor rotor because it looked old to him, suggested I replace it.
He poked at the spark plugs but nothing was obviously disconnected or loose,
and he didn't want to try taking one off, lest he break something. Oh, and
if I turned off the engine and then started again, it would idle smoothly at
first, and then we could see the engine start to rock back and forth and the
exhaust getting black as it started to misfire. Smelled nasty, too.
We discussed the symptoms at length, decided it wasn't dust clogging the
fuel system, because that would have come on more gradually, not suddenly
overnight. He didn't think watered gas was likely - neither did the guys
who gave me the lift earlier on, who said they go to the local gas stations
all the time and they are fine. My gas came from a big chain around here,
not some fly-by-night station. And it had been a while since I'd bought
ethanol-gas, so that didn't seem likely. He was confident, based on having
tested it, that it wasn't the air flow meter. (I hope he's right, they are
expensive!) It seemed to me like an intermittent loose connection, which
would explain why it worked great for a few minutes there and then went bad
again. Though it might not explain why when just sitting parked the engine
would start by idling smoothly and then get worse as we watched.
After a while we observed it was getting on towards dusk, and he wanted to
head back into the national forest where he had been backpacking for a week,
and he didn't think he could help more. So we introduced ourselves and
exchanged emails and he went on his way. (His name was Shannon Cimarron,
and he's from New Mexico - but not on the Vanagon list, though he seemed
interested in correcting that egregious error!)
Meanwhile, after this range of possible diagnoses, I'm planning to have AAA
tow me to Rocky and Mike in Rapid City tomorrow, since the odds of finding a
mechanic who can do much in Custer, pop. 1,500, is not so great, and there
seem to be enough variables that I might as well get my money's worth out of
AAA and go to the experts.
Of course now I'm back in Custer where I have no cellphone access, so this
email will have to sit until I'm connected again. Sigh! And the local
motels are all full due to the buffalo round-up tomorrow, and Matilda isn't
going to make it on an excursion to find an open campground. So I'm
refining my stealth camping skills, this time right in the middle of town.
There are signs all over saying that camping in public parking areas is not
allowed - I think I'll put a polite note on my windshield explaining that my
engine isn't working and I'm getting towed in the morning and couldn't go
off to stay anywhere else. Kind of small, though, so they'd have to come
looking to find it.
And may you all meet with two different Westy good Samaritans on your route
when you need a lift with your bicycle and some mechanical help!
Joy
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Joy Hecht
and Matilda, 1989 Burgundy Vanagon
For musings about life and the vanadventures:
http://users.rcn.com/jhecht/gypsy
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