Sometimes you're the pigeon...

Sometimes, you're the statue.
Today, I got to be both.

Over the last couple of days we ran into a couple of small issues, which likely could have been major issues for some - but we're on the road full-time, so we have to see it as ‘every issue presents opportunity’, and so we keep try to keep everything in perspective...

First - the van sprang a leak in a tire a couple of days ago. I figured it was the trip through the Carizzo Plain because the roads to the fault were so rough, but it turned out to be a screw in the tire. Thankfully we have an air-pump, eventually found a shop, and were on our way in a very short amount of time – without needing a new tire. I was the statue for a good couple of days, but I pigeoned up. 

Second - when we left Templeton, I ran into a problem with the truck. We went down to gas up and the truck wouldn't take fuel. Sure, I could get a gallon in the tank, but then I had to wait 10 minutes before I could get another gallon in. (BTW – If you hadn’t noticed, here, I'm all Statue…in the place where tourists think its cute to feed pigeons...) Putting a half-a-tank of fuel in the truck coming out of Atascadero took an hour. I ate lunch at the fuel hose. I had no idea why; no concept of the problem. After a long wait, and a lot of work, I put in as much fuel as we'd need to the next destination, and hoped that the problem would be fixed when we arrived by the jostling and movement of driving, and prayed I’d use the words ‘Vapor Lock’, which I used to deal with in the Mercedes - a temporary condition that just takes time. (Statue.)

When we got into Buellton it didn’t get better. The truck took 1.145 gallons before spitting fuel back onto the concrete. So, I thought logically. It had to be a blockage, had to be something I could fix. I went to the parts store and asked for a shop. I spent an hour at the shop while they regaled me with tales, told me that I’d likely have to drop the tank because “clearly the kids put a ball into the filler cap.” I KNOW that wasn’t the case. Anyway, they told me to pull the hoses and see where the blockage was. OK, I know the kids weren’t to blame, but it has to be something, right? So, tools in-hand, truck up-in-the-air, gloves-on, I pulled the entire assembly from filler cap to tank. No obstruction. No kids playing ‘fillup daddy’s truck’, just like I knew. I stuck tubes into the tank – no obstruction. Oh well. I prepared to stay an extra week here, and to send the truck into the shop to drop the tank and find the internal problem. (Statue.)

So I put it all back together, smelling like brake cleaner and diesel and looking like I rolled around in oil, head-to-toe. I took it over to the pump to make certain how much fuel I could put in so that I could tell Rich (the shop owner), and BOOM – I’ve never been soooo happy to see a $99 fuel charge. I went back to see Rich to thank him for making me take it apart. We proceeded to swap horror stories for the next half-hour. Apparently his shop is THE place in town for gearheads to talk about what they know. Wow, it is amazing what happens to trucks.

We’ll see if this problem ever arises again. Rich and I couldn’t figure it out, and I’ve chocked it up to killing the ‘vapor lock’ because by removing everything that’s the only thing that makes logical sense. The fact probably is that the high-flow hose in Atascadero was too high-flow for the truck’s setup. We won’t be doing that again.

At the end of the day – I felt pretty pigeon. I hate being the statue.