I started work immediately, but before I could patch the oil pan, I had to first clean out all the rocks that had collected inside after the crash. There were thousands of pebbles and sand-size particles inside my engine, and that's very bad for it.
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| From 710-2011 |
I cleaned out as much as I could and began applying the Liquid Steel. It was my first time using liquid steel, and I was happy with its performance other than its ability to stick to things. It didn't stick well to the aluminum oil pan in my car, making things difficult.
After about seven hours of patching and fighting thousands of mosquitoes, I had sealed the oil pan reasonably well. Of course there could be some small leaks I thought, but I had plenty of oil to replace any that leaked out. I would at least be able to make it to the nearest town, Coldfoot, 100 miles away, I thought. It was fragile though, and any impact could break the patch and cause a huge leak.
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| From 710-2011 |
I left the patch to harden overnight (although there really was no night) and slept in the car. The sun passed behind a large mountain for a few hours, but by 7 AM the temperature had risen to about 55 degrees, and I was ready to go. I filled the pan with oil to witness some very small leaks. I applied some extra patching where I could, and the leaks stopped.
I thought to myself, "If this doesn't work, this could be one of the last times I drive the Falcon, so I should enjoy it." The car made it four miles before something dislodged the patch enough to cause a leak that made the check engine light come on. Luckily I had gone uphill, and I coasted back to the place I had been with the engine off for most of the way. There was no way I would get the Falcon out with this engine.
There is very little traffic on the Dalton Highway. Only about 2-3 cars and 2-3 large trucks pass any point in an hour, but I thought that there was a chance I might see a tow truck passing by. I waited and saw nothing but large trucks filled with rocks, pipes, or pallets.
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| From 710-2011 |
I had to be prepared for the tour bus arriving in the afternoon, so sadly I bagged up all of my belongings from the Falcon and got them ready to load. I said goodbye to the car that had served me well for almost ten years. I remembered all the places it had been, the hours I had spent in my car, driving, sleeping, singing, laughing, crying. I remembered the people who'd ridden in my car, the hitch-hikers, the friends, and all the beautiful women.
In my mind I had abandoned the car when I saw a truck coming. I had to do something, so I waved to the driver. He stopped. I asked him if there was any way I could load my car into his trailer. He said no, but there might be another truck coming that could help. I waved to this truck, carrying an empty flatbed trailer, and asked the same question. He said he had a soccer game to get to, so he couldn't help. I told him that I would pay him. He said maybe.
He got out and came to my car, and we came up with a plan. My car would be saved if it worked! While I steered and applied the brakes in my car, he towed my car with a chain to a loading dock 20 miles away. I drove the car onto his trailer, and we headed south. I thanked Aaron and Jim profusely for helping me load the car and take it back to Fairbanks. Aaron said, "Well, you had the right bumper sticker." My Ron Paul 2008 bumper sticker had saved my car!
I rode with Aaron, a real Ice Road Trucker (a show on the Discovery Channel now) for more than 300 miles back to Fairbanks. Aaron stocked freeze dried food, and at least two gallons of water at all times, because anything can happen on the Dalton Highway, especially in the winter when the whole road freezes and truckers drive on a thick layer of ice.
We docked at an abandoned lot in Fairbanks, and I coasted the Falcon to a nearby repair shop. Aaron left with time to make it to his daughter's soccer game. I thought the problem was solved, as I had the new oil pan arriving the next day. I thought there was no reason I couldn't have these guys repair the Falcon, but I was wrong.
Arriving at the repair shop, covered in dirt from the Dalton Highway:
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| From 710-2011 |
Mercedes is not a popular brand in Fairbanks for some reason. There is no dealership, and I learned from the owner of the repair shop the next day that only one man in town will repair a Mercedes, and that he was on vacation. I had to do the job myself if I wanted to get out of Fairbanks any time soon.
I needed things that I didn't have in order to be able to install the new oil pan, but I could get these things. I called AAA and had the car towed to an abandoned lot near an auto parts store. I needed an engine lift, so I rented one from a local shop and rented a UHaul moving truck to tow the lift.
Repair site:
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| From 710-2011 |
I worked for about 20 hours there, removing the 40 bolts that were holding the oil pan in, removing the oil cooler, and some parts of the suspension that would prevent a new pan from being installed. I lifted the engine about 7 inches to get the old pan out and the new one in.
The wrecked oil pan:
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| From 710-2011 |
During this time many friendly people stopped to say hello and offer their encouragement. I met local mechanics who offered advice, an older couple who gave me some pastries, and younger men who offered tools. This is much different than in Cambridge, where when I repaired my car in public, my neighbors had called the police.
I returned the engine lift and UHaul within the 24 hour deadline, and got the car running 26 hours after I had begun. I was covered in oil and dirt.
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| From 710-2011 |
I spent one last night in Fairbanks at the Backpackers' Hostel and said goodbye to the people I had met there and left for Denali and Anchorage in the morning. I didn't stay long in Denali. Honestly I am beginning to lose appreciation for the beautiful scenery that had drawn me here. I did see a huge moose crossing the road less than a mile in front of me and a family of ducks also crossing the road in front of me, but didn't see much wildlife other than this.
Scenery of Denali National Park:
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| From 710-2011 |
Now I am in Anchorage. Although I have been here only a short time, I must say that I prefer Fairbanks. Although Anchorage is larger, the people of Fairbanks are younger, fitter, stronger, and more lively than the people that I've seen here. Perhaps the reduced water fluoridation in Fairbanks explains some of that.
For example, I will describe the differences in the two cities' Wendy's restaurants (Wendy's has free wifi so I hang out there a lot). Fairbanks Wendy's is staffed exclusively by under 30's. The back room is a riot of activity, jokes, yelling, screaming, and laughing. The people at the Fairbank's Wendy's really enjoy their jobs, but the food gets made quickly all the same. Here in Anchorage, the staff is older and much more miserable. This is just one example... The Barnes and Noble (also free wifi) comparison is much the same.
Anyway this is the story of how the Falcon was saved. Alaska challenged me during the past few days. It almost took from me one of my most prized possessions. There were many times when I wanted to give up and fly out, but I saw that as accepting defeat, as an admission that Alaska was a challenge that I couldn't handle.
For now I'm going to plan some tourist activities and hope I make it out of Alaska without any more disasters.
It's actions like the ones you took in this story that have me consider you my number one most resourceful and self-reliant friend. I'm proud to know you. Enjoy yourself and relax now Matt. You earned it.
ReplyDeleteAnd may the force be with you.