Vee-hickle Blues

Man, when it goes haywire, it goes haywire. First off, last week, in my feeble attempt to do my part for gasoline conservation, I fired up the old Harley I bought last fall. It ran well for a couple of days, then started acting like a quarter horse, a bad quarter horse. Hauling it over to the UP, waiting a day, writing a check for $300, & presto, it's riding like my Tennessee Walkers, all smooth & sweet & up for just about anything. While all this was going on, I had my deisel pickup truck in the shop for a much needed muffler replacement & again, in my desire to be a good resident of this earth pebble, fix an annoying & expensive & environmentally stupid fuel leak. Today, after writing another check for $783, I drove a quiet, non-fuel leaking truck up the highway towards Lake Superior. I felt pretty good, since we just got back our federal tax return, so the outlay of over a grand wouldn't hurt, that much. As the greatest of the Great Lakes barely came into view, the just fixed Dodge decided to make a clicking noise & stop moving. The engine still purred, quietly, of course, & there was no fuel leak. Calling a trusty towing concern, & eating some red potato salad while I waited for the diagnosis, I realized that life is more than interesting, it is fucking interesting. So, I talked to the amiable mechanic who said that it was the transfer case & that the gears were stripped. He said he'd call me tommorow & let me know if it would get any worse. I'm off to pick up the lovely & gainfully employed Mrs. coldH2O. The upside to all of this is that I'll be able to ride the tan, 1984 FLT a lot more. Straight out on the highway....