Oh, boo hoo... I feel
so sorry for you... poor baby... ;D
Gather 'round and hear the tale of a 1000-mile nonstop journey; times two; in a vehicle that should have never made the trip; a 1996 Geo Tracker, she was, with at least 180, 000 hard miles on 'er, 'though the speedo/odo cable was broken, so no man alive was certain of the actual mileage...
Bound fer Oshkosh, she was, and before leaving port at Newark her skipper changed her oil and finally installed that new heater core, fearing misty conditions on the way through Pennsylvania that would require liberal use of the defroster. a hell of a job it was- days in dry dock with her whole dash torn apart, her master cursing and toiling.
A shakedown cruise to the New Jersey shore (about 150 miles RT) showed no troubles, so on the appointed afternoon he set sail to the West , the Tracker's hold bulging with camping gear, cameras, a bicycle, and a cooler full of Red Bull... with 18-20 hours estimated to his destination.
Near sundown, as they approached the Delaware River, the engine temp needle suddenly jumped towards the upper stop, and the sickly smell of glycol filled the air. The captain deftly maneuvered her to the next exit, and upon pulling over on the shoulder of a local street, opened the hood and discovered that the upper rear hose between the block and the heater core had ruptured . As the sun sank, so did the skipper's heart- that hose is nearly impossible to get at. But he was not one to be stopped by so simple a thing, so after an hour of greasy labor, cursing as his hands were seared by the hot block, he managed to cut off the broken part and somehow clamp the hose back in place. He congratulated himself for having remembered to bring a pair of mini vise-Grips, without which the task would have been impossible.
Wisely staying on the county road, he made it another mile or so, and again the hose parted- seems the cheap factory spring-clamp, being so difficult to move into position, had slipped off the nipple... a proper screw-type hose clamp was needed. With a howl of rage, the capt. realized he had not brought any along... he tramped about a mile to the nearest Wal-Mart and returned with the needed parts. Another two hours or so later, the little Tracker was on its way again, the captain warily- and wearily- eyeing the temp gauge.
Through the night he drove her, along the winding hills of Rt 80 West, and at each rest area, where he tried to steal a few winks at a time, he saw nothing amiss with the engine. But it seemed that the heater core would not grow warm- it was mysterious, as there is no valve, only a flapper that releases the warm air from the core housing. Fortunately, though they passed through fog and rain, the windshield remained clear.
All the way through the endless wastes of Ohio and Indiana they passed, with no apparent trouble. The captain smiled.
But passing through the hellish region known as the Chicago Tollway the next morning, the Tracker began to complain at each toll plaza... she would start to boil and knock and wheeze, and her skipper feared the head gasket was giving way. But no- upon examination, no fault was seen... she would boil over, though, when stopped- spewing steam out of the relief hose from the reservoir. Stopping yet again to put some water in the radiator, he noticed that the spring valve on the radiator cap was broken. A piece to the puzzle, perhaps? Once clear of the evil toll plazas, he could drive her on without care, but he vowed to stop in Fond du Lac to get a new radiator cap.
New radiator cap in place and a fresh piece of hose to replace the jury-rigged one later, the tiny craft arrived at AirVenture, almost overheating in the registration lineup. Some days later, the captain replaced the upper rear hose and examined the others, but was unable to do a proper flush of the cooling system, due to circumstances.
The Tracker again ran fine at cruise speed, but began to complain and hiss whenever idling. All the way home from the Great Lakes, through a day and a night, the bleary-eyed captain spent each moment fearing the engine would simply explode. Hitting one construction delay after another on Rt 80 East, he nearly went insane as he nursed the feverish engine along.
Home at last 24 hours after departing, he set out, after a rest, to the shore again, to retrieve his first mate Peg, the three-legged Wonder-Rotty, who'd been left back East with friends. The trip was uneventful, even with all the idling at the Turnpike and Parkway
tolls... it seemed the little vessel's troubles were over.
But as they detoured to a McDonald's drive-through not two blocks from home, a mighty blast was heard, like the fart of a dying whale rolling over one last time!! They limped to port, and the next day the capt. beheld: the
lower hose, from the radiator to the block, had ruptured, from stem to stern! Perhaps it had been leaking slightly all along... or was there air trapped in the plumbing?
No matter... after scouring the parts stores on Manhattan Isle the capt. found the correct hose and installed it, flushing out the air, he hoped, and checking the thermostat and fan clutch.
And now the little Tracker is faring much better... the new heater core works, and she doesn't overheat, but the horn- which hasn't worked since the captain removed the steering wheel to remove the dashboard to change the heater core weeks before the journey- still doesn't work. ::)
The End
by Craig. » Thu Aug 09, 2007 4:51 pm 
