On Sunday, my car had a conniption. It has been troublesome of late. Back in October, I had the heater unit replaced. Then, just before Christmas, the exhaust started to make the most awful noises, and I needed to get it replaced. On Sunday, after driving around happily during the day, I stopped at a local shop for milk for me and some tuna as a treat for the kitties, and the car inexplicably refused to start up again. The breakdown chappie who attended wouldn't believe me when I said that it wasn't the battery. Having ascertained for himself that it wasn't the battery, he proceeded to whack the car engine with a hammer...
The car promptly started up. "It's the starter motor!" was his conclusion. "You need to take it to a garage as soon as possible..."
There not being any garages open at 8pm on a Sunday, I made a note of the advice, and drove home. The next morning, the car started without any problems, and I resolved to get it to a garage at the weekend, as I wouldn't be able to get it there in school hours. Monday evening, on my way home from school, I stopped off at the shops... and then found, once again, that my car wouldn't restart.
A new breakdown chappie arrived, and promptly administered a couple of sharp taps with a hammer somewhere in the bowels of my car engine. It was dark, and I couldn't identify exactly what he was hitting. He also warned me that it wasn't guaranteed to work. I drove home, not daring to stop anywhere else, and arrived home four and a half hours after I left school.
On Tuesday morning, I didn't dare to take my car, and used public transport. Leaving just before 6am ought, I thought, to allow plenty of time to get to school. I arrived with about a minute to spare - a journey time of two and a half hours. Unfortunately, my journey home took even longer, and by the time I had called the breakdown people again to restart the car, driven to the garage, dumped it (by arrangement) on the forecourt, and gotten myself home again, I just had time to heat some hot dogs, swallow them and go to bed.
On Wednesday, I left ten minutes earlier (to catch the first bus) and tried a slightly different route, involving three buses and a tube journey. It took a little less time than the first route, but still involved a journey of just over two hours. After teaching for six solid hours, with a brief break for lunch (I was on break duty in the morning) I was not in the best of moods. My journey home was only two and a half hours, but it was somewhat marred by the fact that, after one bus driver failed to pull up close enough to the kerb, I put my foot in a hole getting off and twisted my knee and ankle.
After a week of this, you can imagine how delighted I am to have my car back again...
3 comments:
I' ve had similar car start up issues in the past. My brother, who is a mechanic, fixed in exactly the same way - by hitting the starter motor.
The starter starts the engine by sticking out a metal rod with a gear that engages with the flywheel, which then spins the engine around and helps to get it going. However, sometimes the metal rod gets stuck and won't come out. But hitting it a tap jerks it free and helps it pop out.
Oh dear! That was an ordeal, Mac. Hope the car is all sorted out now.
V'room, V'room.
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