DOH! FESS UP!

Cougar Community The Garage
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Everyone gets those. If everyone fesses up to at least one, this could become a good read when in need of a bit of cheering up…

i’ll sacrifice myself…

Had a dune buggy once, a long time ago. A real old air cooled VW with a rollcage. Was getting real cocky, and told a friend i could go anywhere a trail bike could!

As luck would have it, with a bunch of friends in their buggies, we came up to the bottom of a real steep incline, with one set of wheels passing there. Yessiree! If a trail bike can co up here, by gawd… so can i…

I started slowly, drove to the edge, and was a bit surprised at how vertical the dang incline was. soooo… i backed up about 75 feet, to get a good attack speed, and let her rip!!!

I slammed into the hill, the back half of my buggy went up instead of the front part, and both front wheels went seperate ways. The left towards the left, and the right, towards the right.

A buddy of mine came up to see if i was ok (that hurt more than the safety harness did…) and just said: “Gee, John… don’t ya think mebbe the guy came DOWN this way???”

DOH!

2

Sorry but I’ve never done anything stupid.

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:spit: WOW!! Can I have your autograph? :poke:

I’ve done so many can’t decide which one to start with… Since I only have a minute right now guess I will start with a simple short one:

I owned (and drove) a Chevy Vega once… :shh:

4

After not skiing for a 4 years i decided that its like falling down a mountian - you never forget.
I hit a double black diamond when I was in Interlaken Switzerland you couldnt see the rest of the run because it curved under where you started off at - all you could see is the bottom.
What the heck… so I went for it. I was good for the 1st 1/4 of it. Then it was snow, sky, snow, sky, sky, snow , snow, maybe a small animal or midget, snow, sky ect ect ect…
My buddies said it looked like a napalm explosion but of snow when I first bit it - then he said I did a great job of plowing the run for everyone else.
So after I collected my yard sale material ( skis’, hat, flask, ear wax, brain, and a few fillings) what did I do. I went for it again just to make sure I didnt forget anything. I made it this time and saw my impact areas, it suppriseing when you whipe out its quick (somewhat) there must have been a few feet between body splats (the snow part- see above) in the begining. Then a ski patrol guy comes up to me and says that the part I went down was where they push some of the snow off of the top what they groom it its not a trail. The real trail was further to my right…Anyway it was a great trip but yeah - Ill never forget that - lesson learned somewhat - look at the big wooden billboard that has the trails marked out before Banzi-ing and almost killing yourself. :bloated:
Honestly Ill probaly do it again theres nothing like strapping 2 planks of wood on your feet and hurling yourself off a mountian. :ylsuper:

5

Chuck,

Autographed photos are available by mail for $49.95 plus $6.95 shipping and handling. Please send payment to:
Al Bundy
PO Box 99
Anytown, NY 15555

Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery.

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Photo of Brick on his ski trip.

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better that picture than the agony of defeat one they used to show on wide wide world of sports with Howie…that looked like it hurt

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Brick’s skiing experience reminds me, kinda, of a trip i made to Montreal, to watch an Expo game.

I was 16, we were 3 couples, and had to go through the Berri De Montigny subway central. All lines went through there, at least 3 levels deep. In those days, bell bottom jeans were the thing, along with high heeled platform shoes (the ones that looked like clown shoes…)

6’tall, weighing in at 185 lbs (no fat in those days, sigh)

on the stairway down, the other guys went first (bad move, that) and I followed suite. The third step tripped me when a heel decided to part company with the rest of the shoe then and there. Everything went ski-like. Stairs, ceiling, faces with enormous eyes, must have hit myself on the ears with my feet a few times too. Couldn’t even manage to grab someone to try to stop (or take along for a ride, to share the pain…)

Of all the people on there that saw me coming down (everyone heard the ruckus) NOT a single one tried to tackle me in order to stop the show! Everyone moved aside, and watched me go down. When I hit the 1st landing (saw it coming a few times, actually), I was real happy. BUT no, I hit the landing with all I had, head butt feet shoulders, and went on through to the second flight of stairs. This went on through 3 stairways and 2 landings (stopped at the 3rd one.

The worst is always the ego, you know, like when you trip yourself on a sidewalk crack, land flat on your butt, and your very first, almost instant reaction, is a go-around to see if anyone saw you? Well…

Was ok, quite a few bruises, but went to the game anyway.

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LMAO, Wii Fit has a ski-jumping game…you guessed it, you can wipe out like that! Or close enough to bring back the memory…

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I thought I read somewhere that the “Agony of defeat” ski jumper had died in that incident. I went to Wiki to see and got totally sidetracked by the picture of Dyno Don … Wide World of Sports Wiki page

Oh… the skiier, Vinko Bogataj, did not die in the incident.

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Well, that’s not a BAD way to get sidetracked…

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Film of him just before the ‘fall’

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That’s just not right!

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Okat a fess up. So after finally getting the rocker travel set up done I proceeded to put in and set all the lifters for initial lash and install the intake. Then cleaning off the work bench I pick up the lifter box and still have one in it! Crap I had left in the solid lifter I used for checking the rocker tip travel. Off comes the intake and I get out the checking lifter and put in the right one set things and get the intake back on and all torqued. I drop a piece and got to grab my mini kel light flashlight and cannot find it. Where did I use that at last? Crap I have it over at the engine. Off comes the intake and I fish the light out of the lifter valley. Oh heck there is the rocker lock nut adjusting allen wrench too! Obviously I had been working way too late at night and too tired and needed to quite doing that!

15

Way back when I was younger I had an old British Ford Capri.

It had a 4 speed manual transmission.
I was driving vans all the time at work which had 5 speed trannies.

On the way home from work I was having some sport with another car on the freeway, being young, it was “pedal to the metal” stuff.
I instinctively tried to change into 5th gear at 120 mph.
Obviously the Capri didn’t have 5 gears and the forward movement of the stick dropped me into 3rd instead. :wall:

The engine wasn’t keen on doing several thousand rpm more than redline and it let me know by spitting one of the pistons through the crankcase. :open_mouth:

After I got it home I started looking around for another motor.

Found one in the local paper, borrowed a car, picked it up and began plans for a weekend assault on the car, got a hoist hired, made sure I had everything I needed, got a gasket kit and gave the motor a quick freshen up to be sure.

Most importantly, being a noob, I made sure I RTFM. Over and over again until it was memorized.
I even had my practice wife test me to make sure I knew what I was doing !!

Saturday came, on with the job.
Got everything unbolted and got the engine out in about two hours. MAN was I chuffed ! :smoke:

Started putting the new one back in.
Took a while longer, couldn’t get the engine and box to mate up, but with a BFH, a prybar, a sh=tload of profanity and a not inconsiderable amount of soft tissue and blood loss, it was in. :ylsuper:

Another hour or so had it ready to try.
Into the car gets I, turns the key, and sure enough it turned over but wouldn’t fire.

Checked everything I could and kept trying. I was thinking maybe I forgot to reconnect something, so looked for loose wires or pipes.

Not a peep.

By this time it was getting dark so I retired for the evening with the manual and read it to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, then of to bed.

Next morning, feeling refreshed, off I go.
Turns the key, fully expecting it to just start.

Dead.
I started checking everything again, but couldn’t see anything.

Called a buddy, he said the Capris were prone to flooding and sometimes the only way to get them to go was to tow them, so he came around and we musta towed this bastid for 20 miles and couldn’t get a peep out of it.

So, back to the house.
I was thinking I had bought a duff engine and was giving up hope. I feared having to go through all that again.
After two days I couldn’t get it running.

So, we thought we’d relax with a cigarette. I was cutting down back then so only had one in times of stress. This situation met the qualifications.

So, I reached into my overallls pocket for my cigarettes and felt something odd in there with them.

Curious, I dug a little further and pulled out…






The rotor arm…


:eek2:


Valuable lesson learned. Check for fuel AND spark next time, Bob. :poke:

For anyone who doesn’t know, a Capri looks like this.
In the UK the Capri was the car of choice for young hooligans. It was probably as close as we Brits got to a real muscle car !

16

Was shopping in a huge shopping center, with wife and 3 kids. Spent a few hours at it,and came out. I owned a red VW rabbit diesel. walked up to the car, and the dang door wouldn’t open. Dang winters, with freezing locks… Tried the driver’s side, no more luck. Tried the hatch, no better… started heating the key with a lighter, and trying the lock when it was nice and warm. That usually works out after a few times. As i was doing that, the wife looked in the car, and noticed the absence of child seats… My car was in the next block of the parking… :bloated:

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That’s not as bad as my Mother-in-Law walking to her P.T. Cruiser, getting in the car and then freaking out that somebody had stolen the dash… only to find out she had gotten into the back seat.

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Uh, just don’t know what to say about that.

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I did similar of the first 4 door car I ever owned after decades of coupes. I didn’t think stolen dash but for a split second thought thought I had gotten in the wrong car. Nope just the wrong door. :confused:

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Sometime before September, 1989… I know this because it was before we moved into our present house.

Got hooked (for about two weeks) on, of all things, “Michelob Dry” one summer years ago. So, I’m out on a Saturday, having mowed the lawns front and back (easy 3-4 beer job, first mistake); and decide it’s time to change the oil (second mistake) in the '76 C30 Chebbie truck I owned (third mistake) at the time. My buddy Rod comes over with the new-style “Dyna” ignition module for his '85 Harley Super Glide… gotta change out one plug on the 'Glide’s harness to fit the new module. 'Bout an hour and 2 beers (each) later the new module’s in place; Rod and I could “feel the difference in the seats of our pants” with the new ignition as we hammered up and down the street in front of my house. (Where are we? Oh, yeah 4th…make that 4th and 5th mistakes). Now it’s time for that oil change! (6th)

(OBTW, Did I mention that it was summer in Yuma? Yeaaahh… temps over 110*; so “The first (few) beer(s) don’t count”, right?) :beerchug:

So, while Rod goes down and picks up another 12-pack of Michelob Dry (mistakes 7-18) 'cause we seem to have run out of beer; I jump under the Chivvy, spin off the Fram oil filter (19) and remove the drain plug. About this time, Rod putt’s back in, twists the cap off a bottle and hands it to me. Take one quick swig, THEN get the drain pan under the free-flowing river of oil (20, right?) and slide out to grab the omni-present bag of kitty litter to soak up the small (?) puddle of oil. When the oil drains out, I cap the drain pan, spin on the NEW Fram oil filter; and tell Rod to start pouring in the 5 quarts of Castrol GTX 20W50.
(You keep counting the mistakes, okay? I don’t want to talk about it anymore).



About the time Rod’s asking me, “HOW BIG IS THAT OIL PAN???”, I see the BIG-AZZ puddle of oil creeping towards his shoes; and the now 7th empty oil bottle he’s tossing into the trash can that I had drug out next to the truck. Used up the rest of the kitty litter and asked my oh-so-understanding wife to run to the store and grab some more.
Rod offered to take her to the store on the 'Glide; and she took his keys (and mine) away before she left. While she was gone, I took the time to flop back down under the truck and spent 10-15 minutes screwing the drain bolt back in, almost stripping out the threads in the pan maybe 3-4 times. And we topped off the oil with the 5 bottles I had remaining. Sue comes home and I ask for the keys so I can test-run the truck after its oil change.
She takes off (in the truck) for about 10-15 minutes; so Rod and I dutifully spread out the kitty litter, swept and scraped it up with a broom and shovel; and threw the whole mess into the garbage can. Then we walked to the Circle K for more beer - 2 12 packs. When Sue finally came back, she had Rod’s wife following her in their car.

I woke up the next morning; vaguely remembering that Rod and I were “cleaned up” in the carport with a pressure nozzle on the end of a garden hose. Wandered out to get the Sunday paper (yet ANOTHER mistake) and, after hitting the concrete porch clutching at my eyes which were boiling from the exposure to a 2100-quintillion-ton thermonuclear explosion (it was 10AM and the sun was already very high): I noticed that Rod’s bike was still in the carport.

Rod showed up (walking) about 3 that afternoon; coming to get his bike. He asked me if Sue was talking to me yet; I asked him if Pat was talking to him yet.

No on both counts.

We were both very happy to be back at work Monday morning.




All true, as much as I can remember… it’s still kinda fuzzy.