October 2009
At Least the Biplane Worked Great
This weekend (10/10/09) various members of my family (10 in all) including my father, brother, and paternal grandparents drove from Connecticut to Red Hook New York to visit the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome, we saw lots of old planes and even flew in an open cockpit biplane.
The trip there reminded us of a Leatherman story.
During the summer of 1999 (I was 16 and had received an original Wave, the one I still carry, for Christmas from these very same grandparents that year) a similarly sized group went to the Aerodrome with my grandparents in their Bounder RV. It was a great weekend until the drive home on Sunday. We were someplace on I-95 in Connecticut when my grandfather started speaking in a very stern voice. He told us to shut off any lights, fans, etc. inside the RV. We did so and he explained that the voltage display from alternator had dropped to zero; shortly after the engine was backfiring on the slightest uphill. My grandfather pulled off the most convenient exit and stopped on the side of the road. He grabbed some electrical tape and an extension cord which he handed to me. My oldest cousin and I went out on the side of the road with him, he popped the hood and told us to cut the cord into pieces of a certain size and strip the ends. My cousin and I proceeded to do so using my still new Wave. Once we’d cut the wire up with the pliers I used the blade, and my cousin used another pocket knife, to strip the ends. We’d then hand the wires off to my grandfather and he twisted them together and made two cables to fasten the coach battery (the large battery that powers accessories at a camp site) to the starter battery. Once this was done the engine immediately ran perfectly and we had an uneventful remainder of the ride home. Of course my grandfather had to get the alternator replaced, but the Leatherman turned what might have been a long miserable day with an expensive tow into a non-event.
Thanks Leatherman, Tim is a genius!
Best,
Robert D.
West Hartford, CT
OK, you voyeur, you. Enough of reading other people's stories. It's time you told your own tale of gripping heroism or even just neat DIY'ism. We know there's a Shakespeare in you somewhere. Don't make us use the Steens to find it.