Oh, For a Bicycle

Yesterday I was reminded of why I dislike, maybe tolerate is a better word, motor vehicles. Especially modern ones. Brad's truck, not the one above, needed new brake pads. One in fact was scraping metal to metal on the rotor. Brakes pad changing is one of the few automotive tasks I still feel confident about attempting, though I do them so infrequently that I still encounter difficulty doing the ordinary.

The first obvious encounter I relive is that having the correct tool makes a huge difference. This particular truck we're working on has aftermarket wheels and tires. Not my usual desire, but you go with what you have. Oh, and they have a keyed lugnut to prevent theft. Digging on the internet finds me reading the blog of a car thief who explains all of the places people "hide" their keys and sure enough a look in the glovebox finds the key to unlocking the lugnut.

Next on this occasion is a jack. After cranking for too many minutes I decide a phone call is needed and a cry for help produces a great floor jack that makes many minutes of work into about 2.

After this the rest is relatively quick. The skinned knuckles, pinched fingers, greasy hands, sore back from leaning over, scraped knees, all record the fact that I don't do this for a living. The best part is the time with Brad and for that I am grateful.

And the fact that the brakes actually do stop the truck when we are done.