Tag tacoma starter replacement

So I had a big agenda already for the weekend, hoping to get a number of new Tacoma accessories installed as well as completing the garage reorganization.  When Cindy reported starting problems with the 99 Tacoma late in the week I asked her to watch the video I did regarding starter replacement back in 2012, asking her if it sounded like that.  Basically she turned the key a couple times and got clicks but then the truck started normally.  That was the same behavior I had when the starter died in 2012.

I thought I should be proactive and just replace the starter, hopefully for nothing since the Autozone starter I installed had a limited lifetime warranty.  I would feel badly if I sold the truck and then had the starter let the new owner sitting in the near future.  Some people may view that as a stupid thing to care about.  After going through what I did as a result, I may agree with them.

So I got out there bright and early Saturday morning, hoping to finish up in the driveway before the heat of the day rolled in.  I assumed removal of the starter would go pretty easily since I did it before.  Predictably I had some struggles.  I used a different technique to remove the top starter bolt this time.  It required less socket extensions but more patience as I could only turn the socket 90 degrees at a time.  With a little more effort than expected I dropped the starter out of the engine compartment.

Installing the new starter went better.  After I tightened the bolts and reconnected the electrical stuff I leaned in the cab to do a test start, expecting it to be a mere formality.  Instead I was rewarded with a click.  WTF.  I turned again, hoping it was a weird anomaly.  Click, click, click…  How can this be, is it possible that Autozone sold me a DOA starter???  I was so pissed off as I imagined the hassle of having to pull the starter I just installed in order to get it checked.  I screamed a few obscenities into the wind as I walked back around to the front of the truck.

I double checked my connections and again tried the key, only to be greeted by more clicking.   I realized I had no choice but to remove my second starter of the day.  Luckily by this time I had become rather adept at it, I had the starter out in 10 minutes.  I loaded both starters AND my battery from the Tacoma into the new Tacoma in the remote chance the battery was bad as well.  The parts went into the bed.  I threw my seat cover over the driver seat since my clothes were covered with automotive fluid/dirt/grease/lubricants.

So as I pulled into Autozone I was not in a good mood.  The idea that they sold me a dead starter annoyed the piss out of me.  As I walked in from the lot my annoyance got ratcheted up a couple more clicks.  In front of the store was a pop up shelter with some kids and women that were obviously fundraising.  I was carrying the new starter in it’s box along with the old starter piled on top of it.  I was covered in dirt and surely had a sour look on my face.  Despite these obvious clues that I would not be a good solicitation target, one of the woman approaches me as I am approaching and tells me they are fundraising so some kids can go to judo camp.  I was amazed that this woman was so oblivious.   I had this immediate impulse to snap back with something like “are you blind, do I look like I am in a position to donate?”, but managed to submerge the impulse.  Instead I just gave her look of disbelief and disgust with a side order of head shaking.

So I plopped both starters on the counter and explained the situation.  The manager took both starters back to their tester.  He first hooked up the old starter.  After power was applied it fired up and passed the test.  Since the problem seemed intermittent I was not surprised.  However I expected the new starter to be dead as a door nail.  Instead the new starter fired right up as well, son of a …..

So I went into further detail about why I assumed the new starter was bad.  The manager said perhaps I have a grounding problem which he said I could check by using jumper cables to create a new temporary ground.  I told the manager I had my battery out in the truck as well.  I asked him if we could test it.  The judo woman was smart enough to not ask me for money again as I lugged the battery back in the door.  The guy slapped his tester on the battery and after 30 seconds or so showed me the result on the lcd screen, BAD BATTERY.

I was dumbfounded.  The behavior Cindy described just did not sound like a bad battery.  However the battery was around four years old which is about as long as they last in Florida conditions.  The idea that all of this bullshit and labor could have been avoided with a simple battery swap was frustrating.  I told the guy to get me a battery and that I would keep the new starter anyway. I turned in the old one to get my core charge refunded.  I returned home annoyed but relieved the solution to the problem was finally at hand.

By the time I got back Cindy had returned from the track meet she was coaching at.  I gave her the news that the starter replacement had not been going well.  I got busy installing the starter for the second time followed by installing my brand new battery.  This time I leaned into the cab and turned the key knowing it would start for sure.  CLICK.  You HAVE to be kidding me. I was in disbelief and angry.

So after verifying my connections I decided to test out the managers theory.  After disconnecting the negative battery lead I used the two black connections on my jumper cables, connecting one to the negative post on the battery and another to a grounding point on the engine. I turned the key and the truck roared to life.  Son of a bitch.  Could all of this bullshit really just be a flaky ground or bad battery cable?

I pulled out my Chilton’s manual and tried to find the battery ground location.  Unexplainably it did not seem to include that information.  I could not easily follow it visibly since it was encased in a wire loom that lead under the engine and out of view.  I then looked online for the ground location and again came up empty.  I walked back outside frustrated once again.

I decided to take a two step approach.  I took apart the negative battery terminal and cleaned it up best I could.  I also reconnected a secondary ground that was cut years ago that leads to the fender of the truck.  The combination of the two things finally seemed to do the trick, the truck fired up normally.  There is the very real possibility that I needlessly replaced the starter and the battery but at that point I didn’t care.  I’ll just add the items to the “features” list when I list the truck for sale.  The work that I hoped to have completed in 90 minutes instead wound up consuming the entire morning. If you want to see the video of the entire frustrating experience look here. I do have a sneaky suspicion that Tuffy may have knocked the ground loose during the water pump/timing belt install.  I may have to get under there one more time to check it out.

So after eating lunch I headed right back to the garage to start installing my new Tacoma accessories.  Despite my frustrating morning the Tacoma upgrades were on my mental checklist and needed to get done.  In total Cindy and I installed 5 upgrades including mud flaps, black out tailgate letters, console organizer, chrome tailpipe extension and nerf bars, which happened to show up as we were finishing the other upgrades.  I made a video for most of the stuff which is linked above.  The installation for all of it was pretty straight forward and simple but they really helped add some visual appeal to the truck.

Even though it was getting later in the afternoon I wanted to get the garage reorganization done or as close to done a s possible.  Cindy, who is an organization junkie was all on board.  I set up one of our folding tables in the garage and used it as a staging area.  We then began the lengthy process of removing EVERYTHING from the existing pegboard and piling it on the table in a haphazard manner.

As stuff was pulled off it was a good opportunity to throw out or curb items that were no longer of use.  Of course there were many things that fell into that category.  Once everything was removed we started the rebuild.  I was the one that did all of the pegboard population since that stuff is almost exclusively my domain.  Cindy worked a lot on organizing the endless surplus of screw, nuts, bolts, and washers that I had spread all over the place.  She also emptied out the area under my workbench.

It took a long time to get everything back in place.  We worked well into the evening but were driven by having the end in sight.  Cleaning up the garage was a long standing item on my winter project list.  Even though we are now far into spring it was exciting to have it finally nearing completion.

When we finally got the last thing put away we stood back to admire the fruit of our labor.  Not only did everything look better and have a spot, I had plenty of room for additional stuff, not that I am looking to fill in my pegboard space anytime soon.  Items I use frequently went in the workbench area, everything else got hung on the left in an orderly fashion.

After we were done we both felt beat up, really beat up.  All of the fighting with the truck in the morning backed up with a solid afternoon of nothing but additional work left me walking around with my ever more prevalent old man shuffle.  There wasn’t much on me that didn’t ache to some degree.  Cindy felt much the same.

I sometimes wonder what it is that drives me to fill many weekends with such an unbalanced work/relaxation formula.  I suppose it is a hereditary thing.  I just don’t feel at peace if my mental list for that time period remains incomplete.

On Saturday night we finally relaxed, watching Pawn Sacrifice, our most recent Netflix rental.  It was a movie about Bobby Fischer who I knew was a famous chess player but little else.  It seems he was equal parts genius and neurotic with a healthy dose of asshole thrown in there.  The movie was interesting enough for a solid B rating. I had no idea that later in life he lived in exile before he died in Iceland.  I guess brilliance comes with a price.

On Sunday I felt somewhat guilty for brushing off any endurance training, despite physically feeling not up to it.  I instead spent time getting the various video footage I shot the day before up on my YouTube channel.  Speaking of YouTube I hit a big milestone, gaining my 1000th subscriber to go along with my close to 900,000 channel views.   After I announced the milestone on Facebook, that number immediately decreased by a handful, dropping me back below the 4 digit mark.  I suspect some of my FB “friends” thought it would be funny to steal my thunder and unsubbed just to dick with me.  Luckily I picked up more subs to once again put me over the mark in the last 24 hours.

During the morning I also did some simple maintenance on the used Honda generator I got from my buddy John.  Instead of taking payment for the Immokalee race I timed for him he asked if I just wanted to keep the generator I borrowed since I needed one anyway.  I accepted his offer and figured it would be good to change the oil.  In addition to changing the oil I swapped out the air filter and spark plug.  None of the work was difficult but I took the time to document it anyway.  One thing I have found with YouTube videos is even procedures that may seem very simple to me can generate substantial views by others that don’t have my background.

We took the new Tacoma for it’s first Rural King run.  We got to admire the result of our accessory installs the day before.  We both commented on just how much we love the new truck both inside and out.  After picking up several items we returned home for what we hoped would be an afternoon sans-labor.

I did my weekly bill paying/budget balancing session.  That was an opportunity to shine a light on all of the spending that has been going on since the sale of the SSR. Of course I knew it was all going on but seeing the cold hard numbers helped me apply a gentle tap on the mental spending brake so I can catch my breath a little.  Sure there are more big ticket items on the list but none of it is anything that can’t wait for a bit.

Later in the afternoon I just could not help myself and began another small project.  I had a wire shelf that was displaced from the garage during the reorganization project that was sitting in the back yard.  It was one of those strong industrial models so I wanted to put it to use.  I wound up ripping out a less useful, smaller wood shelf in the large shed and sticking the wire shelf in there.  In order to make it work I also had to cut in half some wall mounted shelving in there.  The end result was more usable storage space that worked better.

My work set off an unintended chain reaction when I asked Cindy if she wanted the old wood shelf for anything.  If she didn’t I was going to curb it.  She said she wanted to try to possibly do something with it.  I carried it over and stuck it in the corner of the smaller shed that Cindy had already spent extensive time reorganizing.  She then went on another mission, shuffling things around yet again to work with the shelf in there.  She wound up working in the shed until around 7.

She worked so late that I offered to take her out to dinner so she wouldn’t have to tack on food prep to her list as well.  We went to Pelican Larry’s that is in a relatively new shopping center I never frequented before.  It was a very nice place and worthy of our future patronage.  My grouper basket was quite tasty.

When we got back home later we were both in the office.  I was watching Casey Neistat videos on YouTube.  All of a sudden I saw movement by the office window.  At first I though it was just the sprinklers turning on.  I then focused on the window and realized I could not have been more wrong.  There was a large raccoon on the outside ledge looking in at me.  On the ground next to it was a smaller one looking at me as well.  When I told Cindy to look she couldn’t believe it.

When I turned on the porch light to take a peek out front they had taken off.  A little later I saw the motion detector in the chicken run had tripped.  I walked out there as well just to make sure the raccoons were not trying to harass the hens, despite there being multiple levels of defense in place.  I once again saw nothing but both Cindy and I felt a bit unsettled knowing these chicken predators were once again freely roaming the grounds.

 

 

So since I was taking the SSR to Siesta Key and I was also going to be playing volleyball on Saturday, I decided a high and very tight haircut would be beneficial.  Buzzed hair does not blow in the wind or collect much sand.  I believe I set a new head shaving speed record, completing the task in 7 minutes.

It went a bit faster than normal since I didn’t leave the top a bit longer like I normally do.  Instead I slapped on the 1/8″ guide and went nuts.  Some people like this look, more don’t.  For me, in my current state of mind, it works.

Friday night I was awakened several times by thunder, there were some strong storms blowing through.  When I got up at 4:45 the rain had stopped but it looked like only recently as the roads were soaked. I wasn’t all that thrilled with driving the SSR up 75 on wet, dirty roads but I knew it was going to be getting a bath regardless so it didn’t really matter.

The drive up to Siesta Key went fine, the SSR is very smooth and fast on the highway, I averaged 80+ for most of the ride.  I opted to keep the top up until I hit the Dunkin Donuts in Siesta Key.

I found a good spot to park next to an island, the other side of which was occupied by a Camaro 2SS/RS, obviously looking to minimize asshole exposure as I was.

As I walked towards the beach, I saw the surrounding park area had huge lakes of standing water.  Wow, it seems like it really rained there as well last night.

Well when I got up to the beach it was a flurry of sights and sounds.  The event organizers were desperately trying to “fix” the beach.  The standing water was not isolated to the park area.  Many parts of the wide and hard beach were under water as well, including many spots where nets for the tournament were located.  It looked like an awful mess.

Well the tournament organizers had engaged various pieces of power equipment in an attempt to combat the soggy sand.  They had 3 or 4 ATV’s pulling graters around.  They also had a gas post hole digger and fire hose.   They would dig a deep hole and insert the one end of the hose in it,d dragging the other end far off the courts to relocate water.

I was impressed with their efforts but I knew there was no way we were starting on time, it was a huge undertaking.

They had clip boards out with assigned net numbers.  Tabby and I were assigned to court 37.

I decided to walk over there and take a look.  I laughed out loud when I saw our court. It was one huge lake.  There was no way they were going to be able to get it ready in time.

I texted Tabby and told him our court was underwater.  He arrived shortly afterwards.  He had driven over the night before and stayed in a hotel.  He confirmed that it absolutely poured all night long.

By this time I already had been mulling about for over an hour, watching the clean up activities taking place.  Little did I know I would be waiting much, much longer.

As we waited, Tabby went up to grab some of the complimentary water.  As he reached for a third water pouch (he was grabbing one for me too) he got reprimanded by one of the event staff, saying he shouldn’t take too many waters at a time.  WTF??

It was symbolic of how shitty this tour has become.

This tour, which I still refer to as the Bud Light Tour, even though Bud Light hasn’t been an actual sponsor for eons, used to really offer some decent value for the money when I first moved down here to Florida.  Not only did they give out free water without water police watching, they gave out free beer!  In addition the prizes they handed out were quite nice, nice enough to make you motivated to win even more than you normally would be. This tour also used to go  above and beyond with their tournament t-shirts, offering colored shirts with unique designs for each and every tourney.  They did all of this with an entry free that was somewhere around $50 a team.

Well fast forward to present day.  They have raised the entry fee almost 50% to $70 a team PLUS this tour now requires you to be a USA Volleyball member which costs an additional $20.  Instead of offering more for your money, they offer significantly less.  The only free thing you get is water and rationed water at that.  The t-shirt is now an ultra-low cost, low quality white variety with the same artwork for every tournament.  Oh and the prizes now suck as well, low quality crap that falls apart in a few months.  The only decent item given out is a volleyball if you win first place and how many volleyballs do you need?

About two and a half hours after I arrived the organizers got on the stage and made an announcement.  They said of the 40 nets they had set up, almost half of them are unplayable, despite their efforts.  They gave the players two options.  The non-open divisions could convert to a fours format instead of doubles, requiring less nets, or you could ask for a credit good towards a future tournament.

Well the crowd groaned at the announcement.  A huge portion of the players opted to bag it and take the credit.  Tabby and I probably would have done the same except he already had a hotel room booked and paid for Saturday night, he had nothing else to do.  I had nothing on the schedule until Saturday night so I said I would be down with playing fours as well, a format I haven’t played in forever.

The organizers said the teams that were interested in fours should team up and report in.  Well Tabby and I didn’t know anyone else playing in the A division so we just gave them our names and said we would play with whomever.  Well there happened to be another team that checked in right before us in the same boat so they became our new partners, Nick and Josh.

So when the brackets were finally established, which took quite a long time, it turned out we had a total of 4 teams of A 4’s.  We would be playing on one net.

By the time the first game got started it was after 11 am, ridiculously late, but at least we were playing and on a court that was in relatively good shape at that.

Both Nick and Josh were younger guys, I don’t know if either of them had their 25th birthday yet.  They brought with them three young cute girls as well.  I never got a firm handle on who was paired up with who.

Josh said that Nick and he played a whole bunch of indoor volleyball before but they only started playing beach ball last year.  Of course I noticed right away that Nick was wearing a Tough Mudder headband.  Evidently Josh and he not only did the Tough Mudder, they are basically mud race junkies.  He said on average they do two a month, wow.

In addition to their mud racing, Nick is a triathlete, sporting an Ironman tattoo after he completed the Louisville event.  It was cool being able to exchange stories with him about both mudder life and tri’s.

On the court we did pretty well.  All of us were sort of thrown off balance by playing 4’s, especially when you have never played with or met half of your team members.  We kept things basic, doing a full rotation where everyone plays every position, not a great formula for success but we went with it.

Despite not playing for almost exactly a year I felt pretty comfortable out on the court which kind of surprised me.  Playing fours does take some of the pressure off since you have more bodies covering the same area normally covered by only two.

We wound up losing our first game by a couple points (rally to 28), but it didn’t really bother me.  After all that lead up to us actually getting out on the court, I was happy to just be playing.

The girls that Nick and Josh brought did a nice job of being our official team cheerleaders, cheering loudly and offering encouragement throughout the game.

During the first game I had a foot collision with a guy on the other team at the net.  I was rushing in to hit a low set and he was planted there to block.  My toes smashed into the side of his foot.  It hurt, but I didn’t pay much attention to it at all.

Well after the game I happened to glance down at my left foot and saw this. It looked like I was beating on three of my toes with a hammer.  My second toe was the worst as blood was seeping around the toenail. It was gross.

I was surprised that I was able to play more or less unencumbered despite the mangled toes.  Evidently those three toes serve little functionality when it comes to playing beach volleyball.

As we watched the other two teams on our net it became apparent that there were no weak teams playing, I am pretty sure that everyone that agreed to play 4’s signed up for A doubles, not BB.

One of the teams had one of the dreaded father/young son phenom combos on it.  The dad was a real strong player, evidently he plays AA skill level or higher normally.  His kid whom I can’t believe was more than 12, was a great player with setting skills that far eclipse mine.  Playing 4’s was actually perfect for him as he could be the full time setter with little penalty to the rest of the team.

Our second game was against that team. Once again the game was pretty tight but again we came out on the losing end.  Personally I was still playing well so the eventual game outcome didn’t concern me all that much.  Both Tabby and I agreed that it was too bad we weren’t playing doubles because we would have probably done pretty damn well.

So our last match in pool play was against another good team that happened to lose their first two games by a narrow margin as well. (every game during pool play was close, no blowouts)  We tried mixing things up this game, making Tabby the designated setter since he was the best setter by far out of the four of us.  He said he didn’t mind setting full time.

He did a nice job of setting but we wound up losing yet another close game, mostly on the back of unforced errors, including a number if missed serves. (which I had none of all day)  There was a funny moment in that game where the tall, big hitter on the other team, whom was drilling balls all game, hit another rocket right at me.

I crouched down to dig it but the ball was coming so fast it got there before my arms were extended.  I wound up catching the ball dodgeball style instead, it looked funny.

So we weren’t sure if we were going to be involved in the playoffs or not, with a single, 4 team pool sometimes they let all the teams participate in playoffs.  Nick and Josh asked if we wanted to get out on the court for a bit while it was figured out to play doubles, like we were supposed to.

In a way it seemed like a way to prove which team was the reason we were 0-3 in pool play.  Well I think we got the answer.  Tabby and I were ahead 15-9 by the time we had to stop for playoffs to begin.

So we found out we did indeed get to play in the playoffs, albeit against the father and son team whom was undefeated.

We saved our best game of the day for last.  We really made some nice plays and I was really hitting well when I had the opportunity.  My arm felt very lively.

The playoff game, which was to 21, was tied 19-19.  I was so hoping to get a chance to crush a couple balls to give us the win.  Instead, the last two plays didn’t involve me at all and we wound up going down for the fourth time of the day, 21-19.

Oh well, despite the goose egg,  I walked away from the day feeling really no remorse.  Considering the circumstances I played really well.  If I play well and we still lose, then it bothers me much less.  If I stink up the joint and lose I take it much harder.  And that isn’t to say anyone on out team stunk up the joint.  It was just very evenly matched, good competition all afternoon long.

I had some time before I had to head for home to go to the Tarpons game so I stayed to ref the next match which turned out to be the first blow out of the day with the old guys dominating the big lunk team, 21-5.

I set up my Flip cam and stubby tripod to tape the pool play matches.  It’s a far cry from the good old days of Ali footage that included panning, zooming and cutting out the time in between action but you can see generally what is going on.  I have the first two games posted here and here.  I will get the third one posted later this week.  Even if you get bored with the volleyball, listening to the girls commentary and the occasional rear end walking by helps make up for it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVXEiGypwyQ

Some new winning volleyball tips from this weekend have been added here.

I packed up my stuff, thanked Tabby and limped out to the SSR, my bloody toes were starting to hurt.  I texted Ali and told her we should still be a go for the Tarpons game.

The drive home I think I actually made better time than the drive up.  I nestled in with a convoy of vehicles that were cruising around 85 mph.  I made it back from Siesta Key in about 90 minutes.

On the drive home I had an unwelcome visitor to the SSR dashboard, the check engine light.  Geezus Cripes, I thought to myself, can’t I get a f’ing break with the automotive issues!!??  I am hoping the light is related to a loose gas cap since I filled up that morning for the trip.  I haven’t had time yet to throw my code reader on the truck.  It drove fine otherwise.

So I got home, threw the stuff that was in the truck on the garage floor and headed right to the shower to clean up.  Looking in the mirror revealed that the spray on, 70 SPF sunblock appeared to work.  My scalp, which was exposed all day didn’t even look pink thanks to me spraying the gunk generously on my head.  Washing my bloody toes was a bit painful.  They sure looked broken but I was able to wiggle them so maybe they were intact after all.

By this time it was right around 6, the game started at 7:30.  I jumped right back in the van and headed over to Ali’s place. She was nice enough to drive us to the game in the Camry, I was beat.  I told her I would be happy to pay the $5 parking fee this time, not wanting to do more walking than was necessary.

I had not bought tickets ahead of time so we were walking towards the ticket booth.  As we did we were stopped by a guy asking if we needed tickets.  Skeptical, I said yes, we didn’t have any yet.  He said that he is one of the sponsors of the Tarpons and he had a bunch of tickets he was just giving away.  He showed me the tickets and then gave me a business card of his  for the legal service he provides.  He just asked that we visit the web site on the back to which I said “sure, no problem”.  I was still a bit skeptical this was legit but when the two tickets got us in the door my skepticism faded.  Wow, we actually got free tickets, sweet.

Well I wanted a beer and some food before anything else.  We stopped at an Italian stand near our section.  For some reason I thought they sold Papa John’s mini pizzas there.  The woman behind the counter said they do not but the single slices they sold were really nice and big.  Ok, give us two slices.

What we were handed almost seemed like a joke.  The slices looked like shit.  They were small and looked to have almost every speck of moisture baked out of them.  Ali’s also looked a bit mangled.  In retrospect I should have been more of a prick about it and asked for slices that didn’t look like red cardboard but I was hungry, thirsty and just wanted to sit down and relax.

So we walked into the breezeway of the stadium.  I had my slice of shitty pizza in one hand and my beer in the other.  I needed a third hand to pull out my free tickets.  Since I was lacking the necessary appendage I decided to balance the plate on one arm while reaching in my pocket for the tickets.  Well in short order the pizza became unbalanced and dropped on to the black, disgusting cement by my feet.  In my attempt to prevent the drop I also spilled a good portion of my beer as well.

Well without hesitation, I swooped down and picked up the pizza and slapped it back on the plate.  My instant analysis was the rock hard pizza landed crust side down, limiting the ability for microrganisms and bacteria to penetrate it.  Plus I grabbed the pizza well within the 5 second rule parameters.  Ali of course was grossed out beyond belief and offered to walk back and ask if they would swap out pizza slices.  I told her to not bother, I was fine.

So once we sat down and I did a quick visual spot check on the bottom of the pizza, I ate the entire thing, washing it down with what remained of my Bud Light.  Yea typing this out makes me realize just how gross that actually was. As far as I know the floor of arenas are typically not cleaned, ever.  At least to this point, I have had no side effects from the dirty slice.

The game itself was sort of a joke.  It was the final regular season game.  The Tarpons were still undefeated and the team they played from Western Pa, was winless.  Not only were they winless, they had some awful looking purple uniforms.

It didn’t take long to see why the Phantoms were winless.  On the first play from scrimmage the Tarpons sacked them for a safety.  Then on the kickoff, the Tarpons ran it all the way back for a touchdown.  It was like that the entire game, I believe the final score was something like 91-16.

Despite the lopsided contest on the field I generally had a good time just hanging out.  I had a couple more beers and went back and got Ali and myself another slice of pizza from the other end of the arena.  The quality was much improved and I didn’t even drop it this time.

We didn’t do any seat jumping this time around.  Our free seats were good enough and to be honest, the place is small enough that there really are no bad seats anyway.

We left a little after 10pm with a little less than 10 minutes to go in the game.  The game was already well beyond over at this point anyway.  The Tarpons begin the playoffs in a couple weeks.  I may try to go to the game if I can.

So when we got back to Ali’s place we made arrangements for me to come back the next morning to pick up the dogs.  Ali was going to go to work on Sunday and I planned to mostly work on the truck during the day so I figured the dogs could hang with me.

After a much needed good night’s sleep I jumped in the van and got the dogs.  After completing any remaining house chores I started on the long awaited and somewhat dreaded, starter project.

When the Tacoma starter died in 2007 I remember contemplating doing the job myself.  After looking at the tight working space and not doing any research on the internet about it, I decided to just pony up the money and pay someone else to do it at that time.

Well my financial situation is a lot different in 2012.  Wherever I have an opportunity to shave money off my expenses I need to do it.  Doing this job myself would save me roughly 250 bucks.  After looking into the procedure pretty thoroughly I determined I should be able to pull the job off with the addition of a couple tools, a long ass socket extension and a swivel socket, both of which I bought at Sears earlier in the week.

The job had it’s peaks and valleys as I expected.  The biggest f up was when I mistakenly thought the bolts that hold the solenoid cap on the starter were the bolts that held the starter to the motor.  I spent a good 20 minutes carefully removing them unnecessarily.  Eventually I found the correct bolts and was quite glad I had my swivel socket and extension, doing the job without them would have been close to impossible.

Once I got the old starter out I tried sliding the solenoid cap off of it to see if I could look at the internal contacts that were most likely the problem.  Once I got the solenoid cap loose I couldn’t see the contacts and I also couldn’t push it back together.  I said f it and left it that way since I was going to just be giving the old starter to Autozone for the core charge.

The girls were excited to go on yet another ride in the van to go get the new starter.

I was a bit bummed that the closest Autozone to me did not have a starter in stock.  The guy said they sold the last one the day before.  He called the next closest store and verified that they had one, which they did.  For my trouble he told the other store to give me a 10% discount on the part, sweet.

I walked out of the second store having only dropped $92 for the new starter, which included a set of body fastening connectors, a nice deal.

Reinstalling the new starter was a bit of a challenge.  The first challenge was getting the starter into place.  To do so required bringing the starter up from the bottom of the vehicle in an upright position and then carefully rotating it in just the right way so it would go back into it’s mounting position.

After that I had to get the two bolts back in that hold it in place.  I had an issue with the top bolt.  It almost felt like the top hole in the starter wasn’t threaded properly.  I started encountering a lot of resistance while cranking it earlier than I should have.  I turned on that sucker hard and was only able to get the bolt close to but not quite snug.  Although the starter feels plenty secure I think I am either going to use a nut for a washer or get a shorter bolt so it is attached as it should be.  I don’t like half assing a repair if I am going to spend the time to do it.

Speaking of half assing, I managed to break the outlet off the back of the air box when I was removing the tube that runs between it and the throttle body.  For now my solution is duct tape but I am hoping to find a used box cheap somewhere in the future.

Replacing the starter was INCREDIBLY dirty work.  The Tacoma slowly leaks various fluids at this point in it’s life so the area I was working with was a greasy, oily mess.  By the time I was done my hands and forearms were pure black.

So anyway, eventually I got it done, stuff hooked back up and was able to do the big test, turning the key.  I held my breath and then exhaled when the truck turned over and started normally on the first try, success.

I got done just in time.  About 15 minutes after I got the last tool put away it started to downpour.

I videoed the starter repair as my automotive repair videos typically garner a decent sized YouTube following.

I was dead tired after a day turning wrenches under the truck in the hot driveway.  I asked Ali if instead of me getting back in the van and driving the dogs to her place, if she would mind driving out to the house to pick them up.  I sweetened the deal by offering to provide pizza for dinner.

I could tell she wasn’t thrilled by the idea but she agreed to come out, she knew I was beat up from volleyball before throwing the truck repair on top of things.

So by the time she got out there I already had burgers for the dogs made and cooling on a plate.  I made their supper and then used the burgers as a garnish, a combo both of them found quite tasty.  After the pizza came out of the oven Ali and I ate it while catching the season premiere of Master Chef.

When she was ready to go both of the dogs were looking quite comfortable.  Ali asked if I wanted the dogs to sleep over and I could just drop them off Monday morning on the way to work.  I said of course I was fine with it if Ali was.  Ali likes having the dogs with her at night.

So it was decided, it was officially a dog sleepover night.  Sadie snored happily next to me.  It was nice to wake up to the two black and furry faces.

I dropped them off this morning as planned.

I am pretty gimpy today between my smashed toes and normal muscle/knee soreness that accompanies rare volleyball action.  None of the pains feel like they are the type that will last beyond a few days.