The calendar declares the date to be December 13. Outside, the sky sags with heavy fog towards the blackness of the road beneath. The prediction is for heavy rain today. I thought this was December in Minnesota but there is no sign of snow. For this I am thankful. Yesterday, we finally attached the snowplow to the truck again for the third time. Now the truck sits securely in the garage- I hope finally ready for winter if we actually have one.
After not being able to start the truck with our numerous previous attempts at different antics, a tow company was commissioned to haul the disabled vehicle to Plainview. The repairman’s first report was that it was not the “passkey” theft detection system that was the problem so all our attempts at resetting that would never have resulted in success. The problem was that a couple of very pesky mice had decided to make a nest in the wiring. They found the wires to be tasty chewing material as well. OK mice, you have made enough trouble for this year. Once the wires were put back together, the truck happily sputtered to life. The only problem left was that the lights, which worked before the truck was started, went out once it was running. This left the repairman scratching his head.
As I was telling this to our college age daughter, she said, “Did he flip that switch to ‘truck’ instead of ‘plow’?” Oh yes, the switch. How could we forget? When our daughter was just 16 and soon after getting her license, she took the truck to a school function. By the time she was ready to come home, it was dark and the truck lights would not come on. What to do? She very wisely asked a friend to drive in front of her and a friend’s parent to follow behind so she could get home safely. But wouldn’t you know, in that 6 mile stretch of road to get home, she passed a highway patrolman. Pretty soon, there were flashing bubble lights behind her. The patrolman was very understanding when he found out that she was driving her father’s truck and was not responsible for its maintenance. Even so, a very upset young lady came storming into the house. “D.. A.. D!!!,” she shrieked, “What’s wrong with the truck lights?” An investigation revealed that the switch had never gotten put back on “truck” after dropping the plow off in the spring.
Once the information about the switch was conveyed to the repairman, all was soon restored to proper working order. On the eve of Thanksgiving, Daughter and I went to pick up the truck and bring it home as it was forecast to snow the next day. Yahoo! We have our truck back. Thanksgiving morning, hubby and I went out to attach the plow again and get ready for the coming storm. Because of the manner in which the plow was removed, it was sitting somewhat helter skelter. I was commissioned to inch the truck forward and slam on the brakes to hold it in place while hubby snapped the pins in place. But the truck kept rolling back. “Just hold the brakes,” I was earnestly instructed. “But I don’t think the peddle is supposed to go all the way to the floor,” I protested. He finally got into the truck himself and realized we now had no brakes. So off came the plow for the second time. And where does one take a disabled brakeless truck on a holiday weekend? Taking it to Millville would mean going down a ½ mile long steep hill. Really bad idea! Taking it back to Plainview would mean driving through town. Also a bad idea. So to rural Elgin was the decision – only one major road crossing with no brakes. The trip was made safely.
So another week of tersely waiting passed with one ice/snow event going by but nothing major happening. All new brake lines later, the truck was home again. Now a bright little light on the dash declares “maintenance required.” Seriously!!! We have decided to ignore it for now – as if that might be possible.