Piet 1986-2007

Yesterday morning T called me and said “I’m stuck on the MoPac offramp at Braker and Piet just died on me!”  She said he wouldn’t stay running once started without a lot of struggle and persuasion.  She thought she’d run the gas tank dry.  I had her call AAA for an emergency gas bailout, but even with a transfusion she still barely got to her apartment complex two miles away before he died again.  She called and this time said, “there’s a little smoke coming from under the hood” (a statement guaranteed to depress the happiest of parties).

Last night I went over and took a look at him, hoping to find something easily remedied like a gunked-up fuel filter.  He started for me, and I couldn’t see or hear much wrong.  I got in and started driving him around the apartment parking lot to see what I could see.  I barely got to the other end of the lot before the “CHECK GAGES” idiot light came on.  All right, check the gauges and—oh, SHIT.  Oil pressure gauge at zero.  I pulled into the nearest parking space, got on the phone and called AAA for a tow.

The tow truck was almost an hour in coming, and when he arrived he drove right past me and on down the street, though I was standing at the curb trying to flag him.  A call to his dispatcher finally got him turned round and back to the right parking lot.  He loaded Piet onto the slide and hauled him down to Ron’s garage for me.

Late this afternoon I talked with Ron and got the bad news.  Rod slap and bearing noise, soon as the engine starts to warm up.  It’s dead, Jim.  We talked about options for a couple of minutes, but even putting in a junkyard engine would cost $3,000 or so, a rebuilt would be better than $4,000, and doing a lower end job in hopes of fixing the mess would be a crapshoot.  There’s no economic point in putting that much money into a truck I was given to begin with, even if I could find that much money—and I can’t.  In the short term we can manage with Quinn alone, except for Thursday when M has dance lessons at Westgate.  The Tulip and I are talking about what I can do for work schedule flex when I have to start taking her every week.

This is a nuisance and a trial, but not at all surprising.  Piet had almost 160,000 miles on his engine, and the 2.8L V-6 engines weren’t ever known for long service lives.  He’s already gone way beyond normal expectations.  I’ll have to see if any of the “donate your car” charities want to take a vehicle with a sound body and a bad engine.

Piet came out the factory door in Shreveport, Louisiana in August 1986; in a few more months he would have been legal to drink.  It’s a shame he’ll never get to.