Tagged: 1997 chevrolet blazer

February 3rd, 2010

Bad Chris and My First Tire-Changing Adventure

By a miracle of God, my car has been in working order for two weeks! Yea! Since I don’t have a current yarn to weave about the Blazer, I am sharing my first tire-changing adventure today. (And yes, there was cursing.)

During my sophomore year of college, I was living on campus across the street from a frat house that had been shut down; the house and its parking lot were empty. Parking around the dorms at MSU was always at a premium, so naturally, I and several other smart people in Scholar’s House decided to take advantage of these wide-open parking spaces. Everything was cool for two weeks when somebodies (presumably some jaded frat bros) decided to take ice picks to one tire on each car in their parking lot.

Joy. Especially when you discover the flat tire just before you’re supposed to leave for work.

Whatever. A roommate took me to work, and my boyfriend picked me up. Now if I were a guy trying to win the heart of a cute college coed, I would’ve volunteered to change her tire. But did he? No. This is why he is fondly referred to as Bad Chris by my family and friends. (We certainly don’t want to confuse him with current, good Chris.)

Next morning, I bundled up in as many layers as I could find and headed to the parking lot to change my tire before my 9:00 class. I knew how to change a tire; changing a tire is just like fixing any other car part. Take the old part off and put the new part on. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

No, it wasn’t. It was difficult difficult lemon difficult.

Changing the tire wasn’t the hard part; figuring out how to unscrew my jack took me an hour. I wasn’t stupid; the jack had never been used, and the screws were screwed in so tightly that it was all I could do to loosen them. I called my dad, who took the brunt of my frustrations with a very colorful voicemail. And every time the MSU shuttle passed me by, I just knew the driver was laughing at the poor girl trying to change her tire.

Once I freed the jack, changing the tire hardly took any time at all. Because changing a tire is really simple: Block your tires. Put on your emergency brake. Jack up the car. Remove the lug nuts. Take off the bad tire. Put on the new tire. Screw in the lug nuts, tightening in a star pattern. Jack down the car. Release the emergency brake. Unblock the tires. Kill the “boyfriend” who is asleep in his warm bed. Be late for history.

It’s no wonder, really, why that relationship didn’t work out.

January 20th, 2010

Mastering the Art of French Mechanics

Last Saturday’s adventure with the car battery may not have been my fault. (Did I really leave my back hatched unlatched?) My battery was also dead Sunday morning, which leads me to believe that my car battery was just old and needed to be replaced. The arctic weather that hit the Ozarks in early January did not help the situation at all.

Chris and I should’ve replaced the battery on Sunday afternoon, but we chose to take naps instead. A good choice at the time, but I had a heckuva day on Monday getting around town. First, we had to jump start the Blazer in the morning, so I could go to the eye doctor. Since the car had started after my and Linden’s run on Saturday, I wrongly assumed it would start after my appointment. It wouldn’t. So Chris came and picked me up (because I was blocked in on both sides, and our jumper cables weren’t long enough) and took me to work. Thankfully, he had MLK Day off.

After work, we drove back into Springfield to jump start my car and then headed to O’Reilly’s to buy a new battery. I turned my car off because someones (Barron and Betsy) assured me that the guys at O’Reilly’s would offer to switch out my battery for me, especially if I was a woman by herself. But no. They just offered to carry it to my car, and Chris and I jump started the car again (#3) and took it home.

At home, we broke out the socket wrenches and unplugged the battery. Always unplug the negative terminal first; otherwise, you risk screwing up your electrical system. (For more instructions on replacing your battery, read this eHow article. It was really helpful.) Unplugging the battery took maybe three minutes.

Safety first. Fashion second.

But it took us an hour to unscrew the clamp holding the battery down. None of our sockets were both wide enough and deep enough to unscrew the bolt, so Chris took a trip to Walmart and bought a new 50+ piece socket set. Because just as soon as he would’ve bought a standard set, we would’ve needed metric. So now we have three socket sets: his set, my set, and our set. Once home, it took another five minutes to unscrew the bolt.

We took the old battery out and put the new battery in. Screwed the clamp down. Screwed in the terminals. Had we not needed more tools, this is a 10 minute job, tops. But since we’re talking about me, multiply that by 10 and you have a better estimation of how long it will take me to do the repair.

I had a weird Julie/Julia moment during this process. I made Chris let me do all the work (he was a helpful extra set of hands, though). I believe my exact words were, “Let me do it. You don’t have to blog about this later.” Unfortunately, I don’t believe any book entitled Mastering the Art of French Mechanics exists.

I debriefed my parents on this adventure after dinner. I think Dad is enjoying the thought of his daughter playing mechanic. I told Mom that I had to Google instructions for making the switch, and she reassured me that when Dad started out as a mechanic, he didn’t know what he was doing either. Apparently, when something really tripped him up, he had to spend half a day talking it over with Grandpa to figure it out. And I thought for all these years that going to coffee with Grandpa and Dad on Saturday mornings was just for fun…

So $85 for the battery + $50 for the socket set – 1.5 hours of my life I’ll never get back = I could’ve had a real mechanic do this for less money, less time, and less stress. Oh well.

Time to vote: Was this repair brilliantly creative? Or am I a gigantic idiot?

Gigantic IdiotBrilliantly Creative (No Ratings Yet)
Loading ... Loading ...
January 16th, 2010

Jump It Real Good

I promised to tell you every little car adventure I have from now on.

I had to jump start my car this morning.

Because *some genius* didn’t close the back hatch.

And left the interior lights on all night.

That genius was me.

Permission to ensue laughter granted.

Remember: Positive. Positive. Negative. Ground.

January 15th, 2010

How To Repair Your GM Hazard Light Switch

I told you I had a good story for today.

The Back Story

Chris and I got some money for Christmas and decided to replace our 17-year-old TV with a new flat panel. We drove the Blazer to Best Buy, picked out our TV, and while Chris was paying, I moved the car from the parking lot to the front entrance. Once parked, I turned on my hazard lights and waited for the Best Buy dudes to bring out the TV and load it up.

That was the plan. And those things did happen, but so did one more thing: When I pushed the hazard light button, it popped off and dove under my seat, leaving my hazard lights without a button and therefore impossible to turn off.

I am fuming because something. else. is. wrong. with. my. car. On the way home, Chris called the dealership and asked them what needed to be done to fix the problem and how much it would cost. What did they say? “The only fix is replacing the steering column. It costs $480.” I almost turn around to return the TV. I am threatening to sell my car on Craigslist and buy a scooter.

Irony: On the way to Best Buy, I told Chris that if we kept up the maintenance on the Blazer, I thought I could stand to drive it to 200,000 miles.

The Quick Fix

Duct tape. It’s always duct tape. We found the button under the driver’s seat, and Chris duct taped the button in place. Mind you, every time I park my car for longer than five minutes I have to take out the hazard light fuse. This works for about a week, and then it gets too cold for the duct tape to stick to the steering column, and I am the idiot driving around town with her hazard lights on.

I have this speech prepared for the police officer who could, at any time, pull me over: “Ma’am, do you realize your hazard lights are on?” “Yes, Officer, something seems to be wrong with my car. I’m just trying to make it home.” “What seems to be the problem?” “My hazard lights are broken.” I’m also paying for an imaginary ticket in my head.

The duct tape stops working and am still refusing to pay $480 for the repair. We call on our Facebook and Twitter friends to find a solution and offer to take them to dinner if they find a fix.

The Solution

Enter Craig. The brother-in-law. He finds this discussion board post with the solution I’m about to share with you. It applies to all GM trucks, ‘95 and up. You will need:

  • Needle-nose pliers
  • GM Hazard Switch Repair Kit, Part # 15174447

A note about getting this part: Go to your local Chevrolet dealership, bypass the service desk, and go straight to the parts department. As long as you have the part number, they shouldn’t give you any trouble. I had to order it, and it took two days to come in.

Here’s how to do it:

  1. Pull out the old switch with the needle-nose pliers. (You can see the hole in my steering column on the right.) This took quite a bit of finagling. First, it took me forever to get the pliers around the trim of the switch. Once loose, the hole in the column wasn’t lined up perfectly with the switch, and it took an extra set of hands to get it out. Meanwhile, I started catching the horn mechanism, so while I’m working to get it out, the horn is going off. It was pretty hilarious.
  2. Cover the new switch with the lube provided. And don’t eat it or use it with tobacco. The instructions said so.
  3. Insert the new switch into the old hole. Push down firmly. Your new switch should look like this:

Once finished, plug your fuse back in and start the car. Yea!

My car wouldn’t start. In my finagling, I had turned on my headlights with an elbow and because I had removed the hazard light fuse, which is also your buzzy noise fuse, I didn’t realize I had left my lights on. And I had been in and out of the car, back and forth to my office building over the course of a few hours to get the the switch out. (If you keep at it, this is a five minute job tops. Unless you’re me, and then multiply that time by 50.)

But the switch is fixed and I have non-blinking hazard lights and blinking turn signals again. All it cost me was an $18 switch and dinner with my brother-in-law.

200,000 miles: Here I come.

January 14th, 2010

My 200,000 Mile Resolution

For those of you who’ve read this blog or followed me on Twitter for any length of time, you know that I have a love/hate relationship with my car, a 1997 Chevrolet Blazer, who was christened Xavier when my parents bought him for me when I was 18. Nine years later, you’re more likely to hear me refer to my car as That Piece of Crap Sitting in My Garage.

Xavier and I are in therapy, working on our relationship, bonding, remembering those early feeling of love for each other. We’re remembering the good times and the bad. The road trips, the flat tires, the ruined alternators, the naps in the back seat. In this process, we have committed to spending another 50,000 miles together.

Why 50,000 more miles?

Because that gives me five more years with Xavier and enough time to save up for the next SUV. And I’d rather suffer through the repairs a twelve-year-old car requires than spend $300 a month on a car payment.

We are inviting you to join us on this journey. To laugh. To cry.

I’ll be blogging repairs I make to the Blazer, sharing the absurd things that break on my car, how much it cost me to fix them, and how much I complained about those repairs. When the Blazer is in working order, I’ll be sharing the back stories about my adventures in my car. Stay tuned! I have a great story for you tomorrow!

 

You need to log in to vote

The blog owner requires users to be logged in to be able to vote for this post.

Alternatively, if you do not have an account yet you can create one here.

Powered by Vote It Up