weisswurst wrote:Oh well, my last pic post shows I got all the weird tools loaned to me except one!! =D> Also I heard that the injection pump timing gauge (metal straw bic pen thingy) is only if we mess up and move something when we chock up the all other parts (highly technical term)!
Oh well, there's always the "flat tow kits" I installed If we need to go to miami when the sun is shining!
Can't talk, heading out for last minute gumout and paper towels....
Jeff
Wow! That's pretty good.
Good thing I still have a little Phil Hill race car driver blood in me. At 4:45PM in the left lane of I-95 doing 80 mph, the Lexus did its old Drop Dead trick AGAIN.
Bam . . . into neutral. All idiot lights aglow.
Bam . . . right turn indicator followed by mandatory 3-over lane change to just nick the nearest exit.
Bam . . . shoulder pass the stopped cars on the exit ramp, blow the red light onto the shoulder of whatever street. Pass those cars, too.
Bam . . . hit the first right turn, we're down to barely 20 mph now, cross over to middle.
Bam . . . hit the opposing traffic's dedicated left turn lane (with curbstones through the grass island!)
Bam . . . pull a hideous U-turn barely missing the right shoulder curb/drain grate
Baizzdpt . . . stopped dead on the hill into the driveway of the Race-Trac.
Tried to restart. No.
Swapped EFI and magnetic clutch relays. No.
Took out fuel pump relay and blew on it to cool it down. No.
Cars are barely missing me IN THE DRIVEWAY on their way to the pumps.
Finally a nice guy in a Dodge pick-up offers to help me push it "out of the way".
"To the pumps!" I yell.
Filled it with less than half a tank needed.
Tried to restart. No.
"We DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!" I scream at my nice car.
Tried to restart. It coughed and burst into whisper (that's the way it is with a Lexus).
"GET ME TO WESTON!" I figure hell, it seems to be listening, might as well take advantage of the moment and tell it what I need from it.
Then the traffic ground to a halt. It was 5:00PM on a Friday in Miami in the rain. Stop and go. Paranoid panic that the engine might play another possum game on my tired frazzled nerves.
After one hour, we had barely managed another ten miles, so I bailed, "I can figure this out, just find a parallel street down to the I-575, so long suckers," as I peeled off the parking lot once known as I-95.
My street quickly clogged tight. Idiot traffic signal timing was so slow that we're backing up through intersections. Finally escaped to a left turn lane and waited through four signal changes to finally get my chance. The cold street light glare and rainishmist is making my side view mirrors unreadable, the glare of headlamps is making the rear view painful, my windshield has millions of pocks and wiper blade scratch marks, and this street is even more slow. Unbelievable. I see flashing lights way up ahead. "Oh, an accident. I'll just bail through this parking lot and take another side street over." Yeah, me and 34,288 other commuters. Finally, I get on the side street, and it is stopped solid. Another accident. It is 6:15PM. The cops have shut down this street on OUR side. The oncoming traffic has jammed too, so we can't do our U-turn but one car every three minutes. Seriously thought about curb jump across the center island, but this exhaust system would cost more than my reckless driving defense ever would. I am ready to chew through the steering wheel.
Finally get back onto the "more slow" street at 6:45PM. Decided another right turn "SR 838" it says. Now I am totally stopped on a bridge over 441 south, which is also stop-and-go. I want 441 and I want to cry. There is no entrance to 441 S from this side of the 838 purgatory. Did another "opposing traffic's dedicated left turn lane" U-turn, but THIS TIME the engine is running at least. At 7:10PM I reach I-575 westbound. And I am finally off the road, some 688 miles from Pensacola.
Good night.
Colicommucommando