Brunhilde goes under the knife

Well, I had to leave my beloved Ford Expedition, Brunhilde, at the menders tonight. The dreaded 'service engine' light came on this morning, which means it's something complicated, and probably expensive. Usually I can do my own repairs on mechanical stuff. I spent many years running cheap cars with no money to spend on them, and so I learned to fix them myself. Also, I had a couple of old motorcycles that I restored to good condition in my garage and shed, which taught me a lot about vehicles.

It used to be that working on cars, and bikes, for that matter, was relatively simple. Not exactly easy, mind - it was still hard, dirty work, usually costing me some skin and blood - but it was something your average hump with a little sense could do. Breakdowns meant exactly that - something had either worn away or broken, and it was a matter of taking off the old part and putting in a new one to get things running again. Sometimes it wasn't even as hard as that - one of my cars, a 1976 Triumph Dolomite, had sills (rocker panels to you, Uncle Sam) that were made mostly from concrete and chicken wire. And while I've never actually replaced a broken fan belt with a pair of nylon hose, as in the urban legend, I can vouch for the 'raw egg in the radiator' trick to get a car - a 1978 Mini 1000 - drivable, so it can limp home to be fixed properly.

But technology has moved on since then. I first experienced this with my first 'proper' car, a 1989 Toyota MR2. Fantastic car, 40mpg, looked like a little Ferrari, handled like a go kart, and fast, for a 1.6 engine. The speedo went to 140mph but I could never get more than 134 out of it. But to work on it ? Worse than the Mini. No room in the engine bay (it was behind the seats) and it was so low you couldn't get the jack beneath it.

Likewise my Expedition. Everything on it is so damned BIG !!!! I had a flat on it a couple of months back, and the spare was so heavy I could barely pick it up. The hood is level with my chest. And that engine (wonderful engine by the way, V8 5.4 litre, smooth, bags of torque) is tucked right down beneath the bulkhead, safely away from the owner. Apparently, Ford recommend that if their mechanic needs to work on the cylinder heads, it's easier to raise the body - yes, to detach the entire car from the chassis and jack it up a bit - than to remove bits and pieces to get access to the engine.

So my Brunhilde is spending the night at the repair garage. Yes, I know modern cars are cleaner and more efficient, and it's easier to have the car talk to the computer about OBD codes and all that jazz, but I do miss the smell of hot metal and Castol R sometimes.

Thought for the day - the whole can be more than the sum of the parts. Night, all.