A story and a lesson you can use on your trip (LONG!!!)
In 1982, I took a job in Wichita Falls, Tx, as a newspaper photographer. I had to travel there in my trusty 1973 VW Thing. I’d rebuilt the engine about a year before so I thought it was travel-worthy.
On day two, I was traveling near Williams, AZ. It was late in the day and I had a reservation at a Motel 6 in Flagstaff. All of a sudden, the engine took a shit. Just fucking quit. I pulled off onto the shoulder, immediately, and stopped.
I sat there a few minutes, calming down and mentally evaluating the steps I needed to take to determine and repair the problem.
Even today, an engine runs only two things, fuel and spark. I checked spark first (less dangerous), and had spark everywhere I needed it.
OK, fuel.
I had fuel in the clear, plastic, in-line fuel filter I’d installed the day before the trip, and had fuel. But when I pulled the inlet hose off the carburetor, gas shot out of the carb. That’s not supposed to happen. I had located the problem.
I removed and disassembled the carburetor, and discovered the needle valve was worn and sticking shut, cutting fuel from the engine.
Luckily for me, always wanting to be as prepared as possible, I had thought to buy a carburetor rebuild kit. I located the new needle valve and installed it.
The real hazard was the fact the only light source I had was a Coleman lantern that burned white gas. Yep, that was all I had and I was handling gasoline with my fingers.
After a while, a friendly officer of the Arizona Highway Patrol drove up and hit me with his spotlight. When he saw my lantern, he didn’t wait, he reached over and shut it off. He stayed there with his spotlight trained on my engine compartment and assisted in removing the carburetor.
He let me disassemble the carb on his hood. As I mentioned, it was a stuck needle valve and as soon as it was replaced, the carb was ready to go. I used the new gaskets in the overhaul kit and re-assembled the carb. The officer assisted me in re-attaching the carb to the engine.
I primed the carb, turned the starter and the engine fired right up. With an excited “Like I KNEW what I was doing,” I shut down, buttoned everything up correctly, shook the cop’s hand and got ready to head on down the road.
The cop asked where I was spending the night and I said in Flagstaff at the Motel 6. He said “They’ll never give you a room smelling like gasoline, follow me.”
I followed him to some sheriffs substation which had a shower in it. I took a shower, changed into clean duds and then he said, “Let’s get something to eat,” and took me to a little diner nearby. He bought supper and finally said, “NOW they’ll take you.”
I shook his hand again, fired up and drove the hour to Flagstaff.
But what this proves to me is the value of preparation and skills acquisition. And a little luck. Had I not bought the carb overhaul kit, a total whim, I’d have been fucked in a thousand dollars worth of ways. At LEAST $1000, maybe more. Money I didn’t have.
So, children, as you head out on Route 66 for your Sesquicentennial road trip, remember my little story and smile when you’re prepared and capable of taking care of things, yourself.
tl;dr Car broke, fixed it myself because I was prepared.