So, went out of town (out of county by a couple) this a.m. with Son&Heir. On the way back, about 6 miles out of town, saw the gas gauge go from nearly full to almost empty, really quickly, lost power, coasted off an exit (the one I’d planned on taking anyway) and about 400 feet on down the road.
Weird. Popped the hood. Gas fumes. Gas dripping from the fuel rail. *sigh* Under car? Sure enough, gas “streamed” from engine compartment all the way to the back of the car, beside, around and apparently evaporated off hot exhaust components. How no fire, I don’t know, but no fire. (Yeh, yeh, I know: no sparks :-))
Plastic clip on fuel rail failed. Had no tools and no clip… and no gas anyway. Called our mechanic. He sent his son&heir with their small tow truck and he dropped us off at the house.
Now, the guys had installed a new fuel pump several months back and gone ahead and also installed the new fuel filter with integrated fuel rail that I’d had a short while but not gotten around to installing myself.
Get that: my part; they installed. If it’d been a faulty installation, it’d given out long before now, so it had to be a faulty part. My hook. Got a call that the car was good to go, but… Asked ’em to double check (“Tug on that thing REAL hard, ‘K?” ;-)) make SURE the part–especially the clip–was good before I picked it up.
I hate fuel leaks.
Sure, I could’ve had the guy drop it here and torn into the thing, but it’s colder outside than my “old bones” like for doing mechanicking, so better to have it done than do it.
Oh, well. π
*heh* Picked the car up. Drove off, on a windy country road, no shoulder, very few turn-offs. Three miles to filling station. Got a mile. Called the guys. It took three of them *heh* to bring me a gallon of gas. π
Fun on the road, indeed.