Summer has come and gone and I have not told you anything about my beloved truck, Dixie.  After the fuel line replacement, Hubby and I decided to tackle refinishing the boards in the wooden bed.  It took a bit of time to remove them and clean the metal strips that hold each board down.  Hubby sanded the boards, removing the old varnish, and stained them with a medium wood stain.  Signs of weather remained on the boards, which only added character. 

My job was to refinish the boards.  After some research, I settled on using Tung oil.  I applied three thin coats of oil, rubbing the wood with fine steel wool between layers.  The result was exactly what I had hoped.  The boards look weathered and old, yet smooth and sealed.  I decided to buff the entire surface with a good paste wax once reassembled.  I was more than happy with the results! 

Proud of the progress, we wanted to take her out on the road.  We did!

Once.

We took her out for a spin on a beautiful day, early in the summer months.  Sure, she shifted a bit rough.  It is an old truck with a manual three-speed shift on the steering column.  If you have ever driven a vehicle with that type of transmission, you know what it is like!  It takes a bit of finesse, and it can still be a bit tough.  Once on the road for about five minutes it was more than rough.

Cruising along, Dixie started to get loud.  Not “cool engine” loud.  Rattling, metal clanking, not-good-in-any-way loud.  We got her home, and started to contemplate the problem.  Hubby suggested perhaps the tires were out of balance.  I had a gut feeling tat was far worse than tires. Having felt the vibration in the floor of the truck, my thoughts were that the problem was much bigger. 

Given our lack of tools and knowledge to go too far into the diagnosis, we decided to employ a professional.  We called Gregg.  Gregg owns a garage not far from here, and often has his vintage Road Runner sitting outside.  He and his family have a love of old vehicles.  When we called him, he was happy to help, but he had to schedule us in to assure she could be IN the garage if disassembly was required, thus tying up a work bay.  We finally settled on a date and limped her down the road.

Gregg took a short drive then put her up in a lift.  He and an associate walked around, looking up, pushing and pulling and determined the most likely root of the problem.  The drive shaft, upon entry into the tail end of the transmission, was loose.  That would cause the rattling.  It also created a large amount of heat, which was NOT good for the metal moving and non-moving parts.  We agreed to leave her there and Gregg would start taking things apart to see what has going on.

The problem?  The bearings in the tail of the transmission were shot.  How long had the problem existed?  We have no idea.  It would require the transmission being removed and sent to a specialist.  Gregg requested any information we had gathered on the transmission, and I emailed him numerous links with part identification numbers to help determine where and when it was built.  As always, it is a mystery with an old truck.  Parts and pieces are often brought together as best they can, and without a paper trail, it becomes a guessing game at times as to what was used and when.

The transmission went out of town to another shop.  Dixie sat quietly in Gregg’s garage.  One month passed.  Two months passed.  Phone calls were made frequently.  Parts were ordered.  Parts came in.  Parts were wrong.  Gregg apologized for the time delay with every call.  We, of course, understood.  Dixie is a project.  She is not our only source of transportation.  Other customers of the garage AND the transmission shop had more urgent issues which required a more timely response.  We waited, knowing it would be done right.  Finally, the right parts were found and the transmission could be rebuilt. 

Last week, we got the call telling us the transmission had arrived back in the garage and could be installed.  Yesterday, we got a call that she was done and ready to come home.  Give it is November, and there was snow on the ground two days ago, I was thrilled it was a very cold weekend and the dirt road to the homestead is frozen.

We went to the garage and got the entire story from Gregg.  It was a long story, and I will spare you the details.  Again, he apologized.  Again, we assured him we were not upset about the delay.  She rolled home without a hitch…no horrific metal clanking.

After a brief photo session in the driveway, Dixie was tucked away in the barn for a winter’s nap.

I am grateful for neighbors like Gregg.  I am grateful for people who are proud of what they do and use their talents to provide a quality service.  I am grateful to be able to support folks like this in my community. 

I am grateful that Dixie is home. Given the temperatures, other old truck projects will wait until spring.   Neither of us are in a hurry.