This will be the last post to this blog. Life has changed and my personal focus has changed. I won’t be deleteing the blog, but I’ll be pulling it out of the public listings. “Gryphon’s Grumbles” will stay, although I’m not sure how frequently I’ll be posting for a while.

-= Gryphon =-

I got up Sunday morning determined to finish the brakes once and for all. I knew I was close now.

I started by cleaning and inspecting the tee connector. I had been bothered by the fact that one fitting had threaded in tighter than I thought entirely healthy, so I cleaned and dressed the threads before going further.

When I went to connect the lines, I got smart and connected the stubborn one first. This time it screwed in without a fight. This also confirmed that mending the threads on the tee had been a good idea, since this leg was the one that had felt too tight. I connected the other lines and bolted the tee back in place.

I summoned Folkcat once again to sit in the cab and pump the brakes. The first try revealed a fairly large leak, but it was easily fixed. I had just not tightened up one of the connections properly. We continued bleeding the front brakes and were done quickly. Folkcat reported that the brake pedal felt quite solid.

It was time for the final test. I got in the cab, crossed my fingers, and started the engine….

Success! The ABS alarm light went out. The regular brake light went out. The pedal was solid and rode at full height. I took a test drive to verify that everything worked and it was obvious that the brakes were working properly. Finally, after a month of part-time fiddling, the truck had brakes again.

I cleaned up the work area, took a good shower, and celebrated by relaxing for the rest of the day.

I didn’t get a chance to work on the brakes until the weekend – three days after I got the lines loose. I spent some of the time studying the repair manual to figure out where the mystery line ran. Based on the picture in the manual and on my own poking around, I concluded that the line ran along the top of the front axle and under the engine. That explained why I hadn’t seen it. It was buried in a thick layer of that black grease/dirt cake that builds up in the corners around the engines of old cars. The bolt that held the retaining clip was in there somewhere, too. I would have given a great deal for a pressure washer right then, but I had to settle for a dismal session of scraping and brushing. I soon had the last line disconnected and snaked free. I went inside, scrubbed off the worst of the filth, and rested in front of the fan for while.

I then measured the three lines and went shopping. I only had to visit two of the three auto parts stores this time. I expected this anyway, since I knew my favorite place wasn’t going to have the adapter I needed. I got two of the three lines I needed at the first stop, and the rest at the second. I did have to make one decision, which had some consequences during installation. Two of the lines matched standard lengths pretty closely, but the third did not. The shorter option was just barely long enough. This bothered me somewhat, but the longer one would have been 10” too long. I didn’t believe I could find a place to run that much extra brake line in a crowded space, so I went with the shorter line.

Back at home, I installed the new lines. Two out of three were easy. The third was not easy. Because the line I had bought was just long enough, I had to bend it more sharply and run it more carefully than the others. It was also the last line connected to the tee, so it was hard to get lined up just right in close quarters.

I struggled for about fifteen minutes on the last connection, getting angrier by the minute. Fortunately, I experienced a well-timed flash of good sense and decided to stop. It had been a long hard day again, and I suddenly had the feeling that it was time to step back. Fatigue was clouding my thought and making problems bigger than they really were. As much as I wanted to be done with this endless job, I packed it in for the day.

Stay tuned for the next (and final!) chapter…

-= Gryphon =-

I could see that the new leak had cropped up at the tee connector where the line from the master cylinder branched off to the front wheels. One of the lines had given way right near the tee. The cheap part of me hoped to replace only the one line; the realistic part of me knew that all three should be done at once. I wanted to save the tee if I could because I had no idea what a new one might cost, or how easy it would be to find. In any case, I had to get the old lines out.

This was not easy. The tee was bolted to the front axle and everything looked the way you might expect something to look after it had spent the last ten years riding less than a foot off the ground under a truck. The fittings on the first line had been in mostly protected areas; these had been marinating in dirt, road salt, water, and who-knows-what-else since 1994.

Once again, I was hampered by lack of proper tools. The fittings were rusty enough that wrenches were no use. The only tool I had for getting a good grip on lumps like that was a pair of battery pliers. Now this was much better than nothing. After all, battery pliers were designed for this kind of work. But the fittings were smaller than the nuts the pliers were meant to handle, and the cramped working conditions made it impossible for me to grip the pliers tightly enough to get the torque I needed. I had no luck at the other end of the lines, either, where they connected to the brake calipers. Those connections were fixed to metal brackets that bent alarmingly when I twisted the fittings hard. I struggled and sweated, but I got nowhere.

Fortunately, someone at work came to my rescue. I was recounting my sad adventure to a friend the next day, and another person overheard. He loaned me just what I needed – locking pliers.

Properly armed, I went back to work. Since the fittings were rusted solid to the lines, I simplified the process by cutting the lines off near the fittings. This made the work easier, since I wouldn’t be trying to twist the entire brake line along with each fitting. I had already conceded that I would have to replace all three lines, so I lost nothing by doing this.

The locking pliers did the trick. I held the tee with the large pair and cranked the fittings with the smaller pair. All the fittings came loose fairly easily, including the ones at the wheels. I removed the one mounting clip I could find, and made some attempt to figure out just where the heck one line went in crossing over to the right wheel, but time was running out and I needed to go to work. I called it a day at that point.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

-= Gryphon =-

I had hoped to finish the work on the brake lines the next day. Two things kept that from happening.

The first problem was that I hurt too much to work. My head hurt where I had cracked it on the ground, my lower back was one giant bruise from bouncing around on the ground, and my neck muscles hurt so much it felt like the world’s worst case of swollen glands. I barely made it out of bed. The other issue was that it was Folkcat’s birthday. We didn’t have a lot to celebrate with, but no way was I going to spend the occasion crawling in the dirt under my truck.

Later that week, I stopped in to the auto parts store during the week and asked about the leaky coupler. The consensus was that Something Had Gone Wrong, but no one was sure exactly what. The one thing everyone agreed on was that the problem was surely with the brass coupler and not with the steel brake line. I felt the same way, so I bought a new coupler.

I replaced the stubborn coupler at the next opportunity and once more summoned Folkcat to her role as pedal-stomper. The new coupler leaked a little at first, leaving the actual condition of the brake line in some doubt, but I was able to get it to seal after some fuss.

Once more we bled the brakes. Finally, no more air came out on this side and I was ready to move to the other wheel. Once more for good measure, I thought, and had Folkcat hit the pedal one more time.

“I hear hissing up front,” she called out. Great. Hissing = leak. Where now?

I should have known. With pressure restored to the system, another line had sprung a leak. The job wasn’t going to be finished today after all.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

-= Gryphon =-

Installing the new line turned out to be much harder than getting the old one out. First I had to buy the right components. Prefabricated lines come in a variety of lengths, and connect with special couplers to make up a given length. I needed to get the right lengths to make up a 13-foot brake line. I also knew I would need an adapter of some sort because the fitting that connected to the anti-lock brake controller was obviously not the same size as all the others. I wanted to do the job with the least amount of brake line and the fewest couplers because money was so tight.

I set off to my favorite auto parts store to get the pieces I needed. This is where I hit the first snag. They didn’t have all the sizes in stock, and they didn’t have the adapter I needed. I could make up the length from shorter pieces, but that raised the cost too much and added extra joints that I didn’t want. And it still left me without the adapter.

There are three auto parts stores fairly close to where I live. I prefer one over the others simply because it’s closer, the prices are better, and I get good service. But I needed my brake lines, so I headed out to check the other two. In the end, I had to get pieces from both of them. One had the lengths of line I needed, and the other had the adapter. Finally I had all the parts for the job.

Back home, I crawled under the truck and began bending the lines and snaking them along the frame. This went fairly easily, despite my not having a tubing bender. Modern steel brake line is much easier to work than its ancestors, and I was able to make the necessary bends without the tool. Leather gloves and strong hands did help, I might add.

I started at the back axle and worked forward. When I reached the front, I realized I had more line than I needed. I had not duplicated every tight little bend in the original factory line, so I reached the front of the truck faster. No problem. I just arranged the excess in a couple of artistic sweeps under the hood. The adapter worked as advertised, so everything was now connected.

I hoped to avoid dragging Folkcat out into the heat, so I tried to improvise some way of holding the brake pedal down and bleed the brakes without a helper. That didn’t work. I finally gave up and called her out to help.

With her in the cab pumping the pedal, I was able to start bleeding the brakes and finding the leaks. The bleeding went well enough, but the damn couplers wouldn’t stop leaking. I finally got the front one to seal tightly, but then the one in back wouldn’t stay tight. It seemed like I could get it to stop leaking, but then it would start up again on its own

It was slow and frustrating work, made worse by my fatigue. I didn’t realize how worn out I was until I lay down once more to slide under the truck. My neck muscles gave way and let my head crack down hard on the ground. I just lay there for a moment, unable and unwilling to move. I finally was able to move enough to resume work.

At that point, the stubborn coupler started leaking again and I started to lose it completely. Folkcat convinced to give up for the day. I listened to her. I cleaned up a bit, went inside, sat in front of the air conditioner, and slowly drank a bottle of cold water. It was the right thing to do. I had pushed too hard and gone too far.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

-= Gryphon =-

I hope to complete repairs to the brake lines on my truck today. It will be none too soon. This project has dominated my spare time and left us with one vehicle for three weeks now.

Replacing old brake lines isn’t normally a major project, but I have a lot of factors working against me. Working conditions are bad, for one thing. The parking arrangements at our building leave me parked in our tiny yard, which means I work on a lumpy lawn, with a tree stump on one side and the building on the other. There’s no way to get a mechanic’s creeper under there, so I slide around on a tarp I’ve laid down. Working conditions are cramped because I can only get the truck so high on the jack. It’s one time I really wish I were 5’2” instead of 6’2” tall. Long arms are no help here. And I’m sure by now you’ve figured out that I’m working outdoors with no cover. I can’t even claim to be a ‘shade tree’ mechanic because the shade tree was diseased and had to be cut down (hence the tree stump).

I have a decent, if patchwork, set of tools, but my tools have been scattered by the constant turmoil of constant moving over the last two years. I’ve worked over the last few months to gather and organize them, but it’s still hard to find what I need. And I’m out of luck if I don’t have the right tool – there just isn’t money to buy tools now. To top it off, I haven’t done any serious auto work in a while, and I have very little spare time, so it’s hard to be efficient in the work.

But the work had to be done. A brake line was clearly leaking, the power brake booster wasn’t boosting, and the dashboard was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Before actually taking a wrench to anything, I talked to the local auto parts store about brake lines. They informed that they sold a selection of prefabricated standard brake lines, but did not sell anything specific to the truck. I went to the dealer and asked about brake lines. They didn’t have them either. The parts manager explained that they made up the rigid lines as they needed them, which apparently wasn’t that often

So my one option was to build the line out of standard components. I would have preferred to make one continuous line, but I didn’t own the flaring tool and couldn’t afford one. I decided to get the old line out first to confirm exactly how much brake line I would need.

I got to work on a Saturday after studying the repair manual. After figuring out that the lines in my truck looked different than the ones in the diagram because my truck has anti-lock rear brakes, I began unbolting connections. That went pretty well. Only one retainer clip was in an odd location. Getting that one out was a trick because I seem to have lost the flex connector from my set of socket wrenches. But I got it all undone and liberated the brake line – all 13 feet of it.

I stopped there. I had gotten the brake line out and I had gotten my act together better for working on the truck, but I had spent a lot of the day doing it. I was tired, sore, and filthy. That was enough fun for one day.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…

-= Gryphon =-

I’m starting to look for a new job again. I’m still at the old one, and I don’t want to look for a new job, but circumstances force me to. The problem is simply that I’m not making enough money there to live on. I’ve been there almost a year and a half and I’m still short of the income target I need to hit.

I took the job knowing that the starting wages were pretty low, but I had good evidence that I could ramp up to a living wage soon enough. I figured we could save money where we could, and draw some money from the bead store to take up the slack until my paycheck grew up.

That hasn’t worked out. We’ve cut spending so far we can’t cut any more. The bead store is gone, so there’s no source of extra money right now. I’ve gotten raises that were decent by company standards, but the pay is still too low. I’ve gone as far as I can, but we’ve hit a break point.

I made this point to my boss two weeks ago and explained that I had done all I could to stick it out, but that the company had to do something and do it soon. I know he’s on my side because we’ve invested a year and a half in each other and we both see a good future otherwise. He talked to his boss about it.

Well, it has been two weeks and I have heard nothing. That’s too long. I should at least have gotten some acknowledgment, even if it was no more than, “Okay, Bill. We’ll see what we can do for you. Hang in there.” But I’ve gotten nothing. I need to make a move.

I’ve already done a first draft of a cover letter to go with my resume and I’m compiling a list of candidate companies in my area. I’ll be updating my home page to advertise that I’m available again. I’ll probably be talking to some of the agencies as well to see if they have anything to offer.

And I’ll be talking to my boss again, just to let him know what I’m doing. He’s earned my respect and I won’t play games with him.

-= Gryphon =-

Folkcat found a new game a few days ago and had been badgering me to try it. I hadn’t been in any mad rush because I have been very busy this week, and because I often find these games less exciting than she does. But she was more worked up about this one than most, so I downloaded it and tried it.

Score one for Folkcat. I would not call the game addictive; it’s too relaxed for that. It is, however, seductive and hypnotic. I had to rap my knuckles to write this post instead of playing the game, and it’s calling to me even now. And once I get going, it’s very hard to stop.

The game is called Sudoku. It’s a simple logic puzzle played on a grid of 9 blocks of 9 blocks each. The object is to place a number from 1 to 9 in each small block until all 81 blocks are filled. The one rule is that each row, column, and 3×3 block must contain all the numbers from 1 to 9. Each game begins with some of the blocks filled in, and the difficulty is based on the number of blocks known at the start.

I like this type of logic puzzle, but the bookkeeping in the paper version is a huge pain. The computer version solves all that, and reduces the game to its essence. Suddenly the mechanics of the game no longer disrupt the thinking process.

Folkcat found a very nice Windows version called “Simple Sudoku.” I suggest you try that one. I also recommend you read her post on the topic for more details.

And now I have to decide if I have written enough that I won’t feel too guilty for playing a round or two.

-= Gryphon =-

Today is Folkcat’s birthday. If you’ve been following her blogs, you know that money is very tight for us right now. That frustrates me a lot. We aren’t big on gift-giving for the most part, but I like to get her a few nice things for her birthday and Christmas. We talked about it and figured out what was possible.

Savvy shopper that she is, Folkcat figured out that two single-layer cakes cost less than a regular two-layer cake, at least at our local grocery store, so she picked out two of those cakes on our next shopping trip. Such a deal. We got more variety, more icing, and we saved 20% on the cost.

The next challenge was presents. I usually have some idea of what Folkcat would like, but I have almost no time to shop by myself and this birthday would be no different. We agreed to sacrifice the element of surprise so I could minimize shopping effort and maximize Folkcat happiness.

We also debated what kind of gift to get. Should I get her some of her favorite luxury foods? She hasn’t had much of those lately. But perhaps it would be wiser to get something more permanent. Thinking over the options, I realized we could get something from both categories, even with our meager budget, and that was what I suggested. She liked it, and off I went.

My first stop was our local Target store. They sell Archer Farms Premium Caramel Clusters, which have completely spoiled Folkcat for lesser species of caramel corn. I got her a canister of her favorite flavor, Macadamia Nut. That was the “edible luxury” gift.

The other stop was a tiny shop called The Purple Turtle, which is run by a friend of ours who appears to be Folkcat’s spiritual sister. She sells lovely women’s clothing of the sort you just won’t see in regular stores, and since she often finds her treasures at closeouts, rummages sales, and other sources like that, her prices are something you won’t see at regular stores either. Folkcat had professed a fondness for a particular short caftan that would make a nice top, so I went for that. I got lucky – it was still there when I arrived. Like a lot of the other items at The Purple Turtle, the caftan was an imported, handmade piece, and there wasn’t another like it in the shop. If someone had gotten there ahead of me…well, let’s just not talk about that.

Task accomplished and bearing gifts, I returned home. For all that there was no drama, Folkcat liked her gifts. The caramel corn is parked near her favorite chair, waiting to be savored in small doses. She tried on the caftan and it looks good on her. It is now waiting for its initial washing – like a lot of such handmade clothing, it wants a washing with additives to firmly set the dyes and remove any excess. It will make a welcome addition to her wardrobe.

So, Happy Birthday, my love. I wish I could have done more.

-= Gryphon =-