The Trip Home
Monday, August 30, 2001.
Overnight, moderate rain had fallen intermittently, the rain on the metal roof
overhead fairly noisy. I was quite happy to awake in a perfectly dry tent and
bedding. The fairgrounds were deserted this early in the morning, so I used
the quiet time to shower and shave in the restrooms within the classroom
building.
About 8:20, while I was making some coffee, using the
back of the pusher as a picnic table, Jennifer hurried in and recruited
Jacques and I to help move a large TV/VCR that she had borrowed from the
Forrest Service office. It needed to be back right away, so we loaded it and
the metal stand into her VW transporter and headed off for the federal
offices. Jacques and I followed in his car, as the TV took up all of the
passenger seat in the old VW truck's front.
After unloading the equipment and setting it up
inside the offices, Jacques and I went to the John Day Radio Shack store to
find a replacement transistor for the controller in the EV. This part would be
essential for the trip home. I managed to grab the last 2N3055 transistor on
the shelf, and installed it back in the stock barn, while also packing up the
tent and bedding and organizing the car for the trip home. The new
semiconductor corrected the controller problem, so I put a finishing charge on
the batteries, loaded the bicycle onto the rack, and we drove out of the barn
into the rain. Once on the pavement, I found that I had no throttle once
again, the new (and only available) part had failed after only a couple of
hundred feet. I considered my options, which were to leave the car in John Day
and ride home with Jacques, returning at some point to try and fix the
controller in a more permanent manner, or to try and make it to Prineville and
find another electronics store, and repair the problem with hopes of better
luck. It would be tough going over the pass without electric assist, but I
decided to try it, and we set off for the west after a series of stops to get
propane for the fumigation system, put the pusher in gear (forgot), and find
out why the clutch wasn't working (again).
Finally, we got to the end of town, I engaged the
pusher and shut down the EV to coast. We made pretty good time in spite of
being held up behind a slow motor home, which turned off at Dayville, leaving
us to barrel down the road at 65 MPH, making a little dent in the trip ahead.
Considering that I had to shut off the ignition,
powering down the electric drive after about 40 MPH, things were going pretty
well. I did find that I had forgotten to turn the ignition key back on after
the shut down a time or two, and only managed to catch the problem because the
wipers wouldn't work with the key off. This could be a disastrous problem if
forgotten too long, as the steering wheel lock could catch the first time I
went around a corner, sending the car off the road or worse.
There seemed to be a lot of construction on the
highway, and we were stopped by flagmen several times. The last time, it had
been raining quite a bit and the trucks entering the highway to transport soil
had left a thick layer of mud, which I had to drive the car and pusher
through, coating both with thick muck.
After going through Picture Gorge, I turned off
towards Kimberly on highway 19, partly to let the semi truck that had been
following at a respectful distance pass, but mostly to pull over and shift the
pusher into third gear for the trip up the Table Mountain pass, the first pass
that I would be attempting to climb without the assistance of the electric
drive.
Downshifted the pusher and got back onto highway 26,
and found that I could still assist the pusher even with the EV able only to
idle. Whenever my speed went below 40 MPH, I engaged the electric drive in
fourth gear on the EV, and was able to hold a decent speed going up the fairly
steep and twisty road. At one point, as I was entering a sharp curve, I
slacked off on the pusher's throttle, but the servo didn't respond. This
resulted in the trailer kacking around a little bit, swerving from side to
side in a fairly alarming manner. This was the first and only time that the
dire expectations of those who wonder if a single-point hitch is safe nearly
came true.
At the top of the Table Mountain pass, I pulled over
to put the pusher back into fourth gear for the decent, and found (yet
again) that the clutch wasn't operating, and I shuddered to a stop,
with Jacques behind. Even with the trailer stationary, I couldn't get the
drill motor to do anything but buzz, so there was nothing else to do but pull
it along, back into traffic, chugging and bucking until the speed was
sufficient to make the diesel motor run.
Went through the gears on the EV, and at this point,
things get a little hazy in my memory. I must have turned the EV off at some
stage of the decent. As my speed increased, I decided to rub off a little of
the velocity by using regenerative braking, and put the EV into fourth gear
and let out the clutch. No current returned to the batteries, that's weird.
Then I realized that I hadn't "started" the EV motor using the
ignition key. I twisted the key over to "start" and waited for the
contactor under the hood to pull in with a clunk. It didn't happen. I tried it
again, letting the clutch out to see if I had just missed the familiar
clunking noise of the contactor engaging. Nope, no regen. I watched the
E-meter for signs of the motor starting or running, and saw only a 60 amp
discharge when turning the key to "start".
By now, the car and trailer were kind of hauling ass
down the steep hill, and I had to ride the brakes hard to keep from getting
out of control.
At the turn off for the town of Mitchell, very close
to the bottom of the pass, I pulled of the road and tried the motor again. The
usual clicking of the smaller contactors was normal, but instead of the motor
quickly gaining speed, I heard the big armature spin up very slowly.
I opened the controller to find that the soft-start
contactor had suffered a catastrophic fire, and the inside of the controller
box had been singed with flame and smoke. With Jacques watching, I tried
starting the motor again. His commentary from the front of the car wasn't
encouraging. "It's beginning to smoke, now the parts are glowing, it's
turning orange!"
With no way to pull the pusher up to speed, and the
pusher clutch not operating, I closed the hood and said: "This trip is
over".
Walking the couple of hundred yards
from the highway into town, I passed the city park, a card-lock fuel station,
a restaurant, and then decided to inquire at the Wheeler County General Store
if there was a secure place to store the car and trailer so that I could
arrange to have them hauled back home in a few days' time. I explained,
briefly, my situation to Michelle, the proprietor of the store, after which
she led me over to the feed barn across the street. "You boys get all
these get all of these motorcycles out of the way, this fellow is going to
park his car here", were her orders to the guys working on about a dozen
bikes in various states of disassembly. While the cycles were pushed out of
the way and stored closer together in another part of the barn, I
walked back up to the car and coasted it down the hill, and right through the
barn door. Disconnected the trailer and pushed it out of the way on one side,
as maneuvered the car into the back of the structure, so that the small
forklift could still be used to access feed and salt blocks for customers
purchases. I disconnected the EV's battery pack to preclude any possibility of
repeat fires under the hood, then transferred the most important of my
belongings to Jacques' already fairly well-packed Rabbit.
Back at the General Store, I left my name and number,
and the key to the car, in case it needed to be moved. I learned that the
store had a rich history, having been built in the 1880's and it once housed
the assayer's office when there were numerous gold claims and mining in the
area. Of course, I offered to pay for the storage of the car for however long
it was there, but my payment was politely refused.
Back at the car, Jacques was filling a one gallon jug with Biodiesel for the
motorcycle mechanics to try as a cleaning solvent. They were also intensely
interested in the EV and pusher. I guess they don't get too many electric
vehicles in these parts.
Before leaving, we paid a visit to Henry, the town
black bear, who lives in a cage next to the filling station. Henry had been
adopted by Mitchell when the charitable organization which raised him had gone
out of business. Still a yearling, we were told that Hugh, his master,
frequently wrestles with him, but many locals think that will end soon, as
Henry matures, and Hugh isn't getting any bigger or younger!
I got into Jacques' Rabbit, and we
headed west. My disappointment at the abrupt ending of my return trip was
tempered by the gratitude that I wasn't having to hitch-hike, and at least I'd
be returning home still powered by Biodiesel.
A few miles from Mitchell, we came upon the turnout
for the Painted Hills Unit of the John Day National Monument. As we had
planned on making the 12 mile detour from the beginning of the return trip,
and had missed lunch while fooling with the EV and trailer, we turned north
for a recreational side trip.
The rain had let up and the clouds
parted partially to light the hills with spectacular contrasts of direct sun,
soft overcast and dark shadows. The air was clean and still, and the
temperature warmed appreciably when the sun came out in patches. We ate sandwiches
and fruit, and got into a friendly competition to see who could reload their
camera with media faster, Jacques with film, and I scrabbling in a pocket of
my pack for the spare memory stick for my digital camera. I won, but not by
very much.
A few other visitors made the climb up to the
observation area, driving up, getting out to look and take a few photos, then
jumping back into their cars to continue their vacation trips. None spent more
than 5 minutes there, and we began to feel like old-timers after a half an
hour. Of course, we had about 200 miles to cover ourselves, and soon made for
the highway to complete the trip.
Jacques and I conversed freely for the rest of the
trip, and get to know one another better. A rest stop at Belknap Hot Springs,
then the final leg of the journey, arriving home after 5:00PM. Delivery right
to my door, what more could I ask of anyone, much less an acquaintance of only
two days? My profound thanks to Jacques for his help and support, without
which I would have been facing a greater trial as a result of this breakdown.
Next...I finish this never-ending travelogue up and get back
to pusher construction!
Click right over to: SolWest Salvage Operation
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