On Saturday morning, we moved one of the trucks out of the garage so we could pull the camper in so Tom could crawl around on cement instead of dirt and chicken poo while he did some things under the bed. Tom jumped in to start the truck, and…click. He checked wires, he checked connections, he had a few friends check wires and connections, he banged on things, he wiggled things, and…click. We canceled the plans to get the truck back to the cabinet maker, and Tom crawled underneath to take out the starter. He got all but one bolt removed, and couldn’t make it work, so called super mechanic William, who just happened to be about a half mile from the driveway. William and his mechanic assistant were in the driveway and under the truck about five minutes later, although it took them over an hour to confirm Tom’s diagnosis and get the stubborn bolt out so the starter could be removed. Off it went with William, who called the next day and said it was repaired. Tom zoomed over to William’s shop, picked it up, and came home and put it back on the truck. He got in the truck, turned the ignition key, and…click.
So, he called William, and got on his moto and zoomed back to William’s shop, where William confirmed it wasn’t working. It’s still there, and we’re hoping it will be done soon so the truck can move. The upside to this story is twofold. First, at least the truck is in the driveway, not parked on a beach somewhere with the tide coming in - although Tom assures me we would NEVER park on a beach where there was any risk of getting caught in a tide. Second, the truck is in the driveway, so we’ve made good use of the time to get a few things done. And (I know this makes it threefold, but hey) some of the other parts that are being worked on are where they can still be worked on, so progress isn’t stopped.