I'm the Best Around, Nothing's Ever Gonna Bring Me Down!!!

No, I am not homeless (yet!). I was working on my truck all day yesterday. Boy, it was cold too.. in the 30's all day. It turns out that the inertia switch was okay after I tested it several times.

My truck has dual fuel tanks, and I believe that the problem is in the 6 port fuel selector valve, which is mounted under the truck bed, behind the driver's side of the cab. The switch, when activated, switches the fuel input from the two tanks and the return valves, as well as alternates the fuel sending units which tell your gas gauge how much fuel is in the tank. I tested the wires going to it, and they had power, but the two electric fuel pumps in either tank wouldn't work when I tried them.

So, I spent the entire day pulling the full front gas tank out of the front of my truck. It was so heavy, and I couldn't figure out a way to siphon the gas out of the tank without sucking it through a tube to make a vacuum, so I just left it full. I used a jack, some jack stands, and some spare lumber to shore it up and work it out from underneath the truck. When I finally got done removing it, I pulled the fuel pump loose and hooked it to a battery, and it worked fine. I re-installed the fuel pump, and disconnected the 6 port fuel selector valve. After this, I assume that the rear pump works as well, but I am not pulling it out to test it.

The fuel selector valve had four rivets preventing me from opening it. Luckily, Mr. Dremel tool did the trick. It always fun to make sparks when you're covered with gasoline... not to mention the gas fumes and smell of burning metal and plastic in the air. When I finally got it open, I was able to figure the device out. There is a small 12 volt motor inside that spins one way to actuate the set of top valves, and then it reverses and actuates the bottom set of valves. As the valve moves up and down, it makes different connections to operate the two fuel pumps and two fuel sending units located in the gas tanks.

It looked like the copper connections inside the valve housing were worn and corroded, and I couldn't get the valve to operate when I hooked the terminal connectors to a car battery. The motor inside worked fine when I connected it's wires only, though. So then I polished the terminals with some sandpaper and WD-40 and put it back together. I was then able to get it to work intermittently , but it didn't work very well... the valve kept sticking, and I think this is what's been causing my problems (since both fuel pumps weren't getting any juice or tank signal).

So I ordered a new one online. It should be here next week and I will install it, along with the EMPTY gas tank!!!! I'll just get my dear old dad to help me pour the gas from it into a bucket and then funnel it back into my other gas tank. I am so proud that I figured out what was wrong. I just hope that I can get it back together without blowing myself up. Every time I work on something and I start doubting myself... I just think of this and then I know I can do it:

The Boy Who Peed His Pants

I remember being in elementary school, in the 2nd grade, and one day I was playing in the sandbox with my friend named Andrew. We had both brought Hot Wheels cars to school that day, and were making roads, ramps, and tunnels for the cars. Near the end of recess, I noticed that my friend was down on his knees, sitting on his feet behind him (sort of kneeling down). He had created this large sand hill from the ground in front of his knees, back towards him and up to almost his waist. He just sat there moving his Hot Wheels car up and down the crotch-hill he had made.

The bell rang and I grabbed up my car and was waiting for Andrew to come with me. He kept playing with his car, moving it slowly over the hill he had created. I said, "Andrew, the bell rang, let's go." He didn't budge. I took off for the door to the school and made my way back to my desk. Andrew was the last kid to come back in.

It was obvious what had happened as he came through the door. Andrew had peed his pants during recess and tried to cover it up with the sand from the sandbox. There was a giant wet, sandy, muddy stain that covered a good 12 inch diameter on the front of his pants. Oh, it was funny, and all the kids were laughing at him. Andrew stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for his desk to sit down.

As he walked to his desk, I saw that the uri-sand-mud stain covered the entire seat of his pants and was about the same size as the stain on the front. Andrew must have had a Big Gulp from 7-11 for breakfast that day. As he took his seat, his head was hung low in shame, and his face red and sad. His hands were still in his pockets and the teacher didn't even notice what had happened.

He spent the rest of the day with dirty pants. During lunch recess, we played cars again, and I never even mentioned anything to him about it. We acted as if it never happened, but it was still so obvious that it had. Although his pants had dried, the stain turned from sandy mud, to a large, crusty dust spot, still the same size as before.

I feel so bad when I think about it now. Poor Andrew.