mylo
Well-known member
Wow... it's been a while since I've been around, and posted. I thought I'd tell an amusing story about my last RV trip - around the 4th of July.
My local homebrewing club organized a camping trip on the top of Mt. Lemmon in Tucson. It's always a great time - and this was my first opportunity to push ol' Janice (the Jamboree) up the hill for a few days out of the heat. My kids and I packed up the rig, and we headed off from Phoenix. The 2hr trip down to Tucson was uneventful. HOT, but uneventful. I ran the genny and the house AC to keep everyone comfortable. I rolled into a Tucson with about 1/3 tank of gas left. That night was "steak night" and I needed to grab some steaks at the local Bashas before I headed up the hill. In 40 more minutes and we would be at the top of the hill enjoying 75 degree weather and the sweet smell of ponderosa pine...
When I got back to the rig, I turned the key. Janice started, sputtered, ... and stopped. Turned the key again. Engine turned, but didn't start. I tried for a few minutes and couldn't get her to fire. I then pulled the doghouse and the aircleaner and tried again. No gas. CRAP. Maybe my gas gauge was faulty. The kids and I walked a few blocks over to the gas station in the 106 degree heat, and returned with a couple of gallons of gas. I poured them in and tried again. Nothing. Checked the fuses. Good. Got out my multitester and traced the fuel pump wires all the way back to the tank. Good. UGH. Must be the fuel pump. I called my friends wife, who lived close. I asked her to pick up a new fuel pump at AutoZone, and come take my kids to the oasis of her air conditioned house while I mentally regrouped for the task at hand.
I crawled under and dropped the tank. I lowered it slowly with my jack. The gauge was right, and now there were about 12 gallons of fuel still in there. Fortunately I was able to keep it propped up so I didn't have to drain it. I pulled out the fuel pump, plugged it back in and turned the key. It hummed like a careless wanderer. Damn. Now what? Well, I figured I might as well put the new one back in, since the tank was down. Put the new one back in. Buttoned up the tank, which had now slipped off the jack. Yikes. How am I going to get this thing back up, by myself? Fortunately a kind passerby accepted my offer of a cold beer in exchange for 5 min of his time, and some dirt on his jeans. The two of us managed to lift the tank back up and strap it in. 20 minutes more to secure it and button everything back up.
Drenched with sweat, greasy, and dirty - I climbed back into the drivers seat to see if the vacation was going to be a complete loss. I turned the key one click and heard the new pump build the pressure. Here was the moment of truth. I turned the key to crank her, and Janice sprung to life. I turned on all the air conditioning she could muster. Went back to the bathroom and drenched my head under the shower. I quickly washed my hands and went to the fridge for a well deserved cold beer. I stood there with the AC blowing right on my face for the next 15 minutes.
We arrived up the hill by 8:00. The whole ordeal cost us about 6 hours. I told the amazing tale to my friends around the campfire. Let me tell you - the beer never tasted any better, and the laughter was never harder than that night.
Isn't owning an RV great?
Mylo
My local homebrewing club organized a camping trip on the top of Mt. Lemmon in Tucson. It's always a great time - and this was my first opportunity to push ol' Janice (the Jamboree) up the hill for a few days out of the heat. My kids and I packed up the rig, and we headed off from Phoenix. The 2hr trip down to Tucson was uneventful. HOT, but uneventful. I ran the genny and the house AC to keep everyone comfortable. I rolled into a Tucson with about 1/3 tank of gas left. That night was "steak night" and I needed to grab some steaks at the local Bashas before I headed up the hill. In 40 more minutes and we would be at the top of the hill enjoying 75 degree weather and the sweet smell of ponderosa pine...
When I got back to the rig, I turned the key. Janice started, sputtered, ... and stopped. Turned the key again. Engine turned, but didn't start. I tried for a few minutes and couldn't get her to fire. I then pulled the doghouse and the aircleaner and tried again. No gas. CRAP. Maybe my gas gauge was faulty. The kids and I walked a few blocks over to the gas station in the 106 degree heat, and returned with a couple of gallons of gas. I poured them in and tried again. Nothing. Checked the fuses. Good. Got out my multitester and traced the fuel pump wires all the way back to the tank. Good. UGH. Must be the fuel pump. I called my friends wife, who lived close. I asked her to pick up a new fuel pump at AutoZone, and come take my kids to the oasis of her air conditioned house while I mentally regrouped for the task at hand.
I crawled under and dropped the tank. I lowered it slowly with my jack. The gauge was right, and now there were about 12 gallons of fuel still in there. Fortunately I was able to keep it propped up so I didn't have to drain it. I pulled out the fuel pump, plugged it back in and turned the key. It hummed like a careless wanderer. Damn. Now what? Well, I figured I might as well put the new one back in, since the tank was down. Put the new one back in. Buttoned up the tank, which had now slipped off the jack. Yikes. How am I going to get this thing back up, by myself? Fortunately a kind passerby accepted my offer of a cold beer in exchange for 5 min of his time, and some dirt on his jeans. The two of us managed to lift the tank back up and strap it in. 20 minutes more to secure it and button everything back up.
Drenched with sweat, greasy, and dirty - I climbed back into the drivers seat to see if the vacation was going to be a complete loss. I turned the key one click and heard the new pump build the pressure. Here was the moment of truth. I turned the key to crank her, and Janice sprung to life. I turned on all the air conditioning she could muster. Went back to the bathroom and drenched my head under the shower. I quickly washed my hands and went to the fridge for a well deserved cold beer. I stood there with the AC blowing right on my face for the next 15 minutes.
We arrived up the hill by 8:00. The whole ordeal cost us about 6 hours. I told the amazing tale to my friends around the campfire. Let me tell you - the beer never tasted any better, and the laughter was never harder than that night.
Isn't owning an RV great?
Mylo
