How not to change transmission fluid

This diagram (and the videos on youtube) make it look as if changing the transmission fluid on your 1989 Ford Ranger takes about seven minutes. But of course, they weren't accounting for me. I decided to try it at night, in the snow when it was about 20 degrees. It wasn't until I had drained the old fluid (and passed the point of no return) That I realised that 80W 90 oils at 20 degrees Fahrenheit has approximately the same consistency as molasses.

The nice man at the auto parts store sold me a pump, which he said would be the quick and easy way to get the fluid back into the tranny. Back home the pump broke with the second stroke. I went back to the auto parts store a second time. And a third time. None of his ideas or gizmos worked. The oils was too think. After 4 hours of trying I finally managed to fill the transmission by putting the oil in a squeeze bottle, connecting the bottle to a tube and running the tube into the transmission. In the process I drank about a quart of oil.

What an adventure.

Ledge Featherlite 20 Review

I shopped around a lot and I think its difficult to beat the Ledge Featherlite if you're looking for good performance at a reasonable price. It weights only three pounds and compacts to the size of a pineapple.

The first time I used the bag was in my back yard (I couldn't wait until my next trip). The temperature dropped to freezing and I felt great.

Sure there are warmer bags. There is the Katabatic Gear Palisade which costs $390 or the Enlightened Equipment Revelation for only $260. But let's face it, most of us don't need gear that is either that intense or that expensive. I'll leave that up to the pros.

There is also the down v. synthetic debate to consider. Down is warmer and compacts more (but is also more expense). The Achilles heel of down is moisture. I live in the Pacific Northwest so synthetic is a no-brainer.

Before I got the Featherlite I lugged around the Coleman North Rim which is a wonderful zero degree bag but weights far too much. If I were to do it again I may buy the zero degree Featherlite instead of the 20. It is worth the extra $20. But for anything down to 35 degrees the Ledge Featherlite 20 is a cheep and comfortable solution.

Swindled in Delhi

For a moment I didn't realize that I was outside. It was 12:30 am, dark and so HOT. I shouldered my way through the crush to the curbside and as I raised my hand to wave down a taxi my ticket stub was yanked from my hand. I turned to see a young Indian man: "Terminal three." He said, "You must go to terminal three for your connecting flight. This is terminal one."

"Gosh" I thought "I had no idea. Why didn't I do my homework."

"Don't worry" the man said, "I take you there sir. Only 2,500 rupees. Good deal!"

"Two thou..." I was pulling out my phone to do currency conversions. (That's another thing you can do with 16 hours of flight time. Practice currency conversions so you don't get taken in. Or worse, look like an idiot). "Thats fifty dollars!" I said in horror. (Terminal three must be on the other side of Delhi).

"Night rate sir, you find no better deal."

"Thanks," I said, grabbing my ticket from him, "but I'll try my luck." Not knowing what to do I approached a bored looking policeman who was casually leaning against a post and fiddling with his AK47. "Excuse me sir, but how much should a taxi cost?"

"About 300 rupees."

I turned to my taxi friend: "how about I give you 400 rupees to take me there?" He shook his head and gestured wordlessly to a distant desk. I arrived at the desk and handed the guard my ticket.

"You have a transfer flight," he said, "here is your shuttle pass."

I rode the free shuttle to terminal three, which is about three miles away.

If you ever arrive in Delhi and are transferring to a domestic airline like IndiGo, Air India or Spice Jets, turn right as you exit the airport at arrivals. I'm sure countless people have thrown away 50 bucks on this ruse.

The next time I flew into Delhi an identical taxi driver grabbed my ticket from my hand. I grabbed it back, laughed in his face, and turned right.

Mailbox peak: What not to do when hiking

If you started in Seattle and drove for a day it would be difficult to find a more strenuous hike than Mailbox Peak. Located 5 miles outside of the town of North Bend, it is a 6 mile out and back with 4,000 feet of elevation gain. You don’t know what that means until you’ve done it. I’ve hiked mailbox in August and March and I wanted to see what it would be like in November.

 

I had a late start and didn’t begin the ascent until 2 PM. As I passed group after group coming down— each flushed and fulfilled-looking—I grew more and more nervous. No one else was going up. The last group of hikers asked if I had a flashlight. “Oh yes,” I replied jauntily as if I were perfectly confident and did this all the time.

 

I reached the summit just as the sun was setting (not that it was visible because I was inside a cloud.) Immediately I began the descent. About the time that I was slipping on ice and tripping on roots I remembered that I hadn’t changed my flashlight battery in three years. In good conditions it take two hours to climb down, but in the pitch dark it was almost impossible to move from blaze to blaze. In a matter of minutes I had lost the trail.

 

If I had a brain at all I would have immediately turned around and found the last blaze, but I blundered on, sure that I would find the next one soon enough. I crashed through thickets and tripped over branches until I finally had to admit to myself that I was completely lost. Pulling out my compass I wandered southwest for about two hours.

 

It is amazing how quickly a person can lose their wits when they are lost in the woods. I felt completely demoralized and had to force myself to continue. Every part of me wanted to sit down and wait the night out. I guess this is how Frodo and Sam felt.

 

Just when I was deciding to spend the night under a log I came across a trail. Not the right one, but it was going down. I followed it for an hour and it eventually spit me out at a road. From there I was able to find the car and drive, wet, muddy and ashamed back home.

 

Hiking is fun but please be safe!