Grrrr.....
Been busy at work. Really busy. Have a road trip again tomorrow and Friday, and a fix for another of my obsessions is coming Saturday...the Woodward Dream Cruise. I've been a confirmed car nut since I was 15 and bought a '72 Plum Crazy 'Cuda and 50+ cars later, I currently have a '69 Firebird Convertible in my garage. It's been mine since 2003 and I've put a few thousand miles on...it's up to 80,117 now.
A few times during the not so long Michigan summer, after the winter salt washes away and before the winter salt is applied, and when it's not raining or too hot, the Firebird comes out of the garage for a day of washing and cruising. I used to do the local car shows, but it was more of a chore than fun to exhibit, so I like to just do the cruises. For anyone into cars, the Woodward Dream Cruise is an event that brings a LOT of cars out, and the weeks before Woodward bring out the cars that are too nice to drive in the Woodward cruise.
I didn't do the Dream Cruise the last two years, and hadn't even pulled the Firebird out this year because we've been playing with the bikes. Master cylinder rear brake chamber is empty. Hmmm. Wasn't like that when parked. No leak in the lines, no fluid on the rear wheels (the wheel cylinders are prone to leak). Not sure where it went. Checked the oil, topped up the master cylinder, checked the coolant, checked the power steering fluid, checked the belts and hoses. All good. Tires need some air, I'll get that later.
Despite two years sitting idle, she started right up and ran like a champ. Knowing there are no brakes, I figured I'd just nudge her out into the driveway, kill the ignition, remove the stall mats from under the car so I can put the jack on concrete to bleed the rear brakes, and roll her back in. Shift to drive...nothing. 2nd...nothing. Low...nothing. Not even a load on the engine. Shut her down.
Trans fluid does not even register. What the heck? Then I see the rug on top of the stall mats looks dirty. Sure enough, it's full of synthetic transmission fluid. I'm a good mechanic, but I don't think I can get home 8 p.m. Friday, package up 21 chickens, deal with customers who will be picking them up, and diagnose and repair it before 10 a.m. Saturday.
Cue Herman Munster impression:
DARN DARN DARN DARN DARN (keeping it silkie safe)![]()
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*Sees car; bites keyboard*