Here ‘s the update:
Big Red needed a new gas tank… as you can see from the old one, it was rather worn, and leaky, and all ’round not-so-great. So I ordered one in, and on a ‘nice’ day, proceeded to lift the truck, figure out how to remove the tank– with the help of me Big Brudder– and sort out how to put the new one back in. We got as far as installing the new sending unit in the new tank, and sorting out what I would have to do for this portion next chance I had.
So I did… it took a few phone calls about wires, and other dilemmas, two new bolts in the straps around the tank (thanks Hiiner), and lots of lying around to get the new tank in. You don’t know how pleased I was! Of course, I couldnt’ get her started. At all.
So I borrowed a battery charger, a battery booster pack, bought jumper cables, and the works, and tried to get her going, all the while keeping Big Brudder on the other end of the horn. Eventually, this meant a visit to Gillams for him, b/c things were not getting sorted over the phone.
The Buddies aren’t as enthused about Big Red as I am… means for a lot of waiting around for walkd-and-excitement-not-to-happen. Well, after a few more hours of eliminating and figuring, we sorted out that the connector to the gas tank itself was drawing air, not gas… so Canadian Tire got a bit more of my business for a few more small parts, also BDI. They have a lot of parts.
And then it started monsooning. The rain, of course, pools at the one level place on the property where Big Red happens to be… and, of course, right at the spot where I like to lie around and work on getting the tank back in. This called for trench digging all around the truck, not to mention coming to grips with the fact that I would be wet for a while… and now that there was gas in the gas tank, it became a much different story to get it installed on my own…slightly heavier one would say… I did get the new hose in place, the new connectors attached, the tank up and in place, stacked with a pile of lumber to help hold it sort of steady… and then the phone call to Big Brudder… ‘it’s raining, want to come over for fourty-five minutes?’
So he did… got his feet soaked in the trenches… we did get the tank installed in less than fourty minutes, then touched up a few other little items, got her started with a bit of ether and gas into the open carburator (oh yes, I know what all this is now), and we let ‘er run, just like a row boat, had a burger and tea for lunch, and I started to drive him to his truck (of course we had to cleebrate by letting out Big Red). We stopped a few times, b/c the gears don’t always change on the fly. We forgot the key to Big Brudder’s truck in my car. We decided to get his spare from his place instead. Then we forgot his wallet at his place and had to turn back… in the meantime, the windshield wipers are a hoot: when the wind howls through the Humber Valley in those narrow bits at full force, it squats those cute little wipers right tight against the windshield and does not allow them to move. Very funny looking for sure, not neccessarily so great when the freak snow/rain from Ontario finally reaches us here, though, and we need those cute little wipers to wipe wipe wipe.
And then, of course, because originally I thought I’d just drive the distance to Big Brudder’s truck, fill up at the gas station myself and head ‘er right back home, I travelled for the first time without an extra jerry can of fuel, without booster pack, without any of those over-rated just-in-case things
. We made those extra trips, and you guessed it, Big Red ran out of gas at Shellbird Island, only 1.45km from Big Brudder’s truck. So we traipsed along the windy, sleety, rainy TCH — nice to get out for a leg-stretch– and made it to me Burdder’s truck. Went back to his place, got a jerry can that was full of gas (he’s always prepared, that one), and went out to rescue BR. Of course, she was chilly by then, but we know all the take-off-the-air-filter-and-throw-some-gas-down-the-carb-tricks, so she rumbled into life again, oh joy, oh bliss. And I must say, I do appreciate the two people driving trucks who actually turned off the highway, got back on, to come and see whether we were OK, did we need a lift, I saw your truck broke down along the highway back there (Oh no, says Big Brudder, we’re almost at my truck, and that’s HER truck. But thank you!)
What a laugh. It’s always an adventure with this one.