Fixing Earl’s Truck

 

         Earl was the slowest driver in the state of Arizona.  A horse and wagon could move faster than Earl driving down the highway!  This was the cause of much humor around town and a lot of embarrassment when you were the indentured servant for the day.  Earl drove slowly everywhere he went.  A ten-mile jaunt to the ranch and back could take the entire day.  Modern vehicles were not set up for the insanely slow speeds that Earl was used to, however.

         When I became a teenager, old enough to drive, it fell upon my shoulders to occasionally take Earl’s pickup and fix it.  After a month or so of driving, the pickup would start running sluggishly and missing a spark here and there.  It began to lurch around and act crippled.  I was always amazed that a brand new truck with only 10,000 miles on it could ride so roughly.  Fixing it was easy.  You see, after a month of the engine basically running on idle, carbon and oil builds up in the engine, and they need to be forced out.

         I would drive the pickup out on Highway 191 and floor the gas pedal.  After a few lurches and near stalls, the truck would start moving faster.  It would stutter and cough, sometimes shaking its frame violently, threatening to fall apart.  Billowing blue smoke issued from the tail pipes.  At around 90 mph, the engine would get happy and hum and purr like a contented cat.  After an hour or so of driving like Dale Earnhardt, I would drive back to town with Earl’s truck. The engine running like it was brand new.

         It was the easiest repair job I had to do.  This was fortunate because I have always been mechanically retarded.  I turned the keys back over to Earl, and I swear I could hear the old truck begging me to come back soon!