Problem A

Problem A:

Problem A is really a solution to a future problem. Jo's current car, a 1998 Saturn, is nearing the unreliable end of its life. My friend Laura recently had the misfortune of having her 2000 Honda Civic stolen, but recovered with damage. Even though the car was damaged, Laura didn't like the idea of her car going the way of the crusher lot. With Jo needing a different vehicle, I saw an opportunity that would cure both of our dilemmas. Unfortunately, so far it has paned out like just another of my crazy schemes, involving drama, injury, failure and hopefully success.

Problem A

The plan: A well executed plan is done so in steps and the first step of my plan was to get the car off the dealer lot, where it was being stored, and into my garage. The problem with this step was that in place of the ignition key slot was a mangled mess of wires and plastic. Never having stolen a car before I tried to retrace the steps of the thieves to get it started. I twisted the two stripped ignition wires together and used a screw driver to contact what was left of the starter tumbler. It started right up. Step one almost complete. All I had to do was simply put it in gear and drive home to a nice lunch and spending the afternoon recovering from the sinus infection I've been fighting. That didn't happen, this is where it the day turned from plan to crazy scheme.

I decided it would be prudent to tighten the ignition wires more securely and insulate them, so I shut the engine off. It never restarted. I repeated my first steps a dozen times, checked all the fuses, checked all the wire connections, nothing. I just wouldn't start. A mechanic even came out and put a jumper on the battery for me. He mentioned the all the fuses in the engine compartment were good. I shouldn't have trusted him.

After about an hour I gave up on using the mangled remains of the ignition to start the car and implement Solution A, a complete used steering column including its own ignition key. It should be plug and play, but to get to the connectors I had to take the dash apart. The plastic covers came of easily, but the metal knee impact absorber behind was being stubborn. I struggled with a seized bolt in a narrow opening. It was cold and I didn't feel the razor sharp edge of the impact absorber slice through the flesh on my first knuckle. The first thing I noticed was the pooling blood on the floor mat. It had cut through the skin and fat in my finger and just grazed my tendon. As I moved the nickel sized opening in my skin back and forth I could see the gray tendonal shealth and muscle underneath. For a surreal moment I was mesmerized by the insides of my finger and the different colors of each anatomic component. Then I though: "Dude, that's your finger!"; "OOOOOOOOOUCH!!"; followed by instant nausea and the sight of a growing pool of blood in the white snow below.

The only thing I could find to stop the bleeding was a Starbucks napkin and a hair tie. It was like plugging a garden hose with a Q-tip. I did manage to tourneqet my wrist, which slowed the blood flow, but didn't stop it. I was suddenly in a race against time. I needed to get the car running in time to drive myself to the emergency room before I lost too much blood to function. My deductive reasoning skills faded proportionally to my blood loss. I scrambled to hook up the replacement steering column. The problem was that I didn't have the tools or time to remove the old one, so I stood the new steering column vertically on the floor and plugged it in. This put the key position on the floor between the gas and brake pedals. I crawled into the floor of the drivers side, inserted the key and turned. Nothing. It wouldn't crank.

2 Steering Columns

About 20 minutes had passed and I was completely faded. Laura wouldn't stand for my protests anymore and demanded I go to the emergency room. On the way to her car, I manged to glance into the fuse box under the hood one last time only to see the needle in the hay stack - a blown fuse. The mechanic was wrong, why did I initially trust him, why didn't I see this earlier? I had looked right at it! It didn't matter now, I was too delirious and delusional to do anything about it. I grabbed what tools I could see laying around left dazed in a cloud of failure.

The Emergency Room

Four and a half hours, a painful wound irrigation, tendon examination, and 3 stitches later I left the emergency room 30 minutes before the car lot closed. Hand bandaged and pride humbled, Laura and I stumbled back into the dealer lot. I made it to the parts counter as it the miniature garage door was closing, paid $10.60 (ouch) for a new fuse, and rushed install it in the fading sun light. As I ran around the corner to the car, Laura had a sad look on her face. For the second time this year her and now my car had been the victim of a theft. While we were gone, someone had stolen my remaining tools, the floor mats, and even some of the stolen merchandise the original thieves had left in the trunk. All I could do was laugh! The dealer claimed no responsibility even through it was inside their fenced lot because they had already released the vehicle to us. I didn't have the energy argue effectively at the time, but I'm not done with them...

I fixed the fuse, crawled onto the driver's side floor, twisted my good hand into place, turned the key and the car started! Victory! Now I just had to manage to some how fit and drive for an hour back to Boulder with an extra steering column wedged vertically between my legs. After my day, not a problem!!

How I had to Drive Home