Now I'm getting all confused. I don't know whether this belongs here, in the "moving" topic, or over in the Crown POTD thread...
Today was moving day for the bus.
Roger came over at about 9:30 AM to serve as my chase vehicle and to give me a ride back afterwards. Of course, I wasn't ready, and by the time we were set to go, it was about time to put some food down. We went over to the local Tacoria for burritos, then got the engine started and set out.
Before leaving, I dug some old CD walkie-talkies out of storage and found cigarette lighter plugs and cord sets for them so Roger and I could keep in touch. Testing them in the driveway worked fine.
On the freeway out of town the bus was ripping along at 55 MPH, and I didn't hear any of the load packed in the back shifting around. Out on the open road, the steering performed without a hitch, and I was making some good time The radio in the bus was nearly useless, as the alternator was putting out some hash that was interfering with the reception from Roger's radio, so I had to turn the squelch up so high I couldn't hear him. Oh well, onward.
After getting into the first foothills, and before the first major grade, I sensed a loss of power in the engine. On a slight uphill incline, the bus lost speed, even though I had the accelerator floored. Since there was nowhere to pull over before Badger Mountain, so I hit the bottom of the hill with as much power as I could muster. Shifted from fifth gear to fourth. Third. Second. I was crawling up the hill in the slow lane at about 15 MPH and losing speed all the way.
At the crest, the bus picked up speed rapidly, and I engaged the exhaust brake to hold it back, regulating the velocity to a reasonable level.
Back on the flat, I was back to 55 MPH in no time.
Pulled out at the Walton Store to tell Roger what was going on. I had a sinking feeling that the fuel filter was getting clogged from sediment and particulates from the 11 year-old diesel fuel in the tank. I was carrying a new spare filter that I purchased just for this possibility, but we decided that opening up the bus' fuel system was a bit risky. Any air introduced to the system could end up grounding the bus until the injection lines could be bled. We decided that there was only one more significant grade, the one before the tunnel, and that I'd just have to take it slow. Back on the road.
A few miles further west at the rest stop, I pulled over to let some traffic pass, then couldn't get the bus to govern out all the way in third, meaning that I was probably only going 35 MPH or less (the bus speedo wasn't working any longer by this time).
I pulled off the road at Richardson Road, determined that I could go any farther under those conditions. Richardson Road is a short connecting road that joins highway 126 to Stagecoach Road, which has few residences along it, and nearly no through traffic. I crossed the railroad tracks, turned the bus around and then parked on the opposite side of the road with the engine bay door facing out into the center of the street to change the filter.
Inside the bus, I had everything I needed to change the filter, ratty clothes, rubber gloves, rags and absorbent mats specially designed for sopping up oil spills, and most importantly, an oil filter strap wrench. I'd need a length of some sort of hose to siphon diesel from the tank to fill the filter so that there would be a minimum of air in the system. Looking around the inside of the bus, I found one of my pneumatic tools with an attached air hose, which I cut free with my knife.
Outside, I spread newspapers under the bus and back by the fuel filler, and put the absorbent mats (nicknamed "diapers") down to catch spills. I shut off the fuel supply from the tank using the installed gate valve. The filter was quite tight, I had to climb under the bus and sit upright inside the engine compartment so I could throw so weight into the filter wrench.
The old filter spilled black gunky fuel when removed. The new filter spun on and I started the engine, which didn't even sputter from the procedure.
Here's a view of the operation. It looks like we are working in the middle of a busy highway, but the whole time we were there only one car came by, which you can see turning left onto the main highway in the background:
Cleaned up the papers and rags, stuffing them all into a plastic bag. I found a 3 pound coffee can to put the old filter into, then stowed it away in an empty side compartment under the bus.
The rest of the drive was uneventful, I ripped up the road on the level and slight inclines, and lost only a little speed on the last steep grade before entering the tunnel.
At my new properties driveway, I parked the bus on the narrow county road and opened the gate before driving in under the trees that I trimmed up for height access yesterday.
The next challenge was getting across the bridge, as it requires some maneuvering to get the large vehicles lined up so that they can cross without rubbing on the guard rails. Unfortunately, a utility pole prevented me from getting the correct swing onto the bridge the first time, so I had to do a back-and-forth a few times before I could clear both sides of the bridge with the sides of the bus:
Eventually, I did make it, but now I wonder what getting out of the driveway will be like, maybe it's time to ask the utility to move the pole:
The bus had little problems getting up the steep, rutted part of the driveway, and I parked it a short ways from the house, in a sunny part of the yard.
Roger mugs for the camera.
Roger and I spent about two hours pitching scrap metal into the dumpster and throwing away garbage and rubbish from the yard. When I went to wash up, I found that there is no water in the house, something must have happened between the spring and the house, so next trip out, I'll need to do some exploring and find out what the problem is.
There is a postscript to this tale, but I'm fried and can't finish it right now, more to come soon....
