mhardig
Member
- Joined
- March 6, 2011
- Messages
- 34
- Reaction score
- 0
- City, State
- Northwest Indiana
- Year, Model & Trim Level
- 98 xlt 99 ltd
This is what I do. Don't do this.
First, because I have a class 3 hitch, I have to drop the spare. Well, you don’t have to, but it makes accessing the upper end much easier.
So I stick a 3/8″ drive extension in the hole and lower the spare winch. I lie down and wrestle the spare out. and slide it out of the way.
I have an impact. I do. I have a bigass air compressor. Firing up the AC for a couple bolts just seems wasteful to me.
So I grab the wrenches, a 13, a 13 deepwell, a 15, and a 17.
It’s stupid sick that I remember the wrench sizes.
I slide under the truck and smack myself in the head with the spare winch.
I tuck it out of the way over a frame member and start loosening the bottom bolt on the driver’s shock. The bolt starts turning so I put the breaker bar on the back and use the rachet on the front. The fact that I have had to do this means that the bolt is spinning, and it’s just not ordinary spinning but it has rusted to the center sleeve of the shock and is going to be a problem. I don’t know this, I just feel it, and it turns out, of course, that I’m right.
I get the nut off and give it an exploratory tap with the lead hammer. The spare winch falls down and hits me in the left temple. I tuck it up over the frame. I move to the upper bolts and loosen them, dropping one directly in my mouth, barely avoiding chipping a tooth. I spit the bolt out and the spare winch falls and hits me in the forehead. I take out the second bolt while the spare winch abrades the side of my face. I tuck it up over the frame and the shock, released from the top mount, falls on my shoulder, and the spare winch falls on my head.
I tuck the winch up over the frame and move to the other side, and then start hammering at the lower bolt. The winch falls down and doesn’t hit my head but it smacks my elbow every time I swing the hammer.
The lower shock bolt is rusted inside the shock sleeve. THis is a common occurrence, and it’s a giant pain in theass. I hit the ******* with a 6 lb lead hammer thirty times before it comes loose, and then I drift it out the last bit with a punch.
I slide back underneath and tuck the spare winch up over the frame and slip the new shock lower in place, securing it with the bolt, and cut the retainer and guide it up to the upper mount. I put the bolts in place and twist the shock a bit to hold them there while I wedge my hand in up over the evaporative fuel cannister so I can get the nuts in place As I do the spare winch slides off the frame and smacks me in the left eye, which I close just in time, and rolls around my head where the spring snags a tuft of ear hair, pulling it out painfully. I tighten everything up and tuck the spare winch up over the frame.
I repeat the process more or less verbatim on the right side, and this time I develop a sore spot on my upper lip from repeated contact with the rusty edge of the spare winch, which I can now tuck over a frame rail by feel alone, and then check both shocks for snugness. I notice the right wheel seal is leaking, which i know I will have to remedy soon. And it is a loverly pain in the buttocks. I slide back out, catching my chin on the bumper and knocking the spare winch off the frame and smacking myself in the head.
I wrestle the spare back into place and the spare which, which has effectively been having it’s way with my ear for a half hour, is now impossible to grasp. I fight with it while balancing the tire on the inside of my left forearm and finally get the spare winch threaded through the hole. I use the 3/8″ extension to lift the spare into place, slide back underneath to confirm it’s in place, and whack my head once more for good measure on the sharp, rusty edge of the spare winch.
I barely bleed, because I apparently have Idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. Based on the vowels you’d have to buy to get those words right on Wheel of Fartune,(sic) you’d think I was a goner, but it apparently means my antibodies have started to attack my platelets and my spleen is busy eating them. At least my doc thinks that’s what’s going on. My spleen is a bit sensitive, but the idea that I, mr calm nature, might be a little splenetic… never occurred to me.
First, because I have a class 3 hitch, I have to drop the spare. Well, you don’t have to, but it makes accessing the upper end much easier.
So I stick a 3/8″ drive extension in the hole and lower the spare winch. I lie down and wrestle the spare out. and slide it out of the way.
I have an impact. I do. I have a bigass air compressor. Firing up the AC for a couple bolts just seems wasteful to me.
So I grab the wrenches, a 13, a 13 deepwell, a 15, and a 17.
It’s stupid sick that I remember the wrench sizes.
I slide under the truck and smack myself in the head with the spare winch.
I tuck it out of the way over a frame member and start loosening the bottom bolt on the driver’s shock. The bolt starts turning so I put the breaker bar on the back and use the rachet on the front. The fact that I have had to do this means that the bolt is spinning, and it’s just not ordinary spinning but it has rusted to the center sleeve of the shock and is going to be a problem. I don’t know this, I just feel it, and it turns out, of course, that I’m right.
I get the nut off and give it an exploratory tap with the lead hammer. The spare winch falls down and hits me in the left temple. I tuck it up over the frame. I move to the upper bolts and loosen them, dropping one directly in my mouth, barely avoiding chipping a tooth. I spit the bolt out and the spare winch falls and hits me in the forehead. I take out the second bolt while the spare winch abrades the side of my face. I tuck it up over the frame and the shock, released from the top mount, falls on my shoulder, and the spare winch falls on my head.
I tuck the winch up over the frame and move to the other side, and then start hammering at the lower bolt. The winch falls down and doesn’t hit my head but it smacks my elbow every time I swing the hammer.
The lower shock bolt is rusted inside the shock sleeve. THis is a common occurrence, and it’s a giant pain in theass. I hit the ******* with a 6 lb lead hammer thirty times before it comes loose, and then I drift it out the last bit with a punch.
I slide back underneath and tuck the spare winch up over the frame and slip the new shock lower in place, securing it with the bolt, and cut the retainer and guide it up to the upper mount. I put the bolts in place and twist the shock a bit to hold them there while I wedge my hand in up over the evaporative fuel cannister so I can get the nuts in place As I do the spare winch slides off the frame and smacks me in the left eye, which I close just in time, and rolls around my head where the spring snags a tuft of ear hair, pulling it out painfully. I tighten everything up and tuck the spare winch up over the frame.
I repeat the process more or less verbatim on the right side, and this time I develop a sore spot on my upper lip from repeated contact with the rusty edge of the spare winch, which I can now tuck over a frame rail by feel alone, and then check both shocks for snugness. I notice the right wheel seal is leaking, which i know I will have to remedy soon. And it is a loverly pain in the buttocks. I slide back out, catching my chin on the bumper and knocking the spare winch off the frame and smacking myself in the head.
I wrestle the spare back into place and the spare which, which has effectively been having it’s way with my ear for a half hour, is now impossible to grasp. I fight with it while balancing the tire on the inside of my left forearm and finally get the spare winch threaded through the hole. I use the 3/8″ extension to lift the spare into place, slide back underneath to confirm it’s in place, and whack my head once more for good measure on the sharp, rusty edge of the spare winch.
I barely bleed, because I apparently have Idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. Based on the vowels you’d have to buy to get those words right on Wheel of Fartune,(sic) you’d think I was a goner, but it apparently means my antibodies have started to attack my platelets and my spleen is busy eating them. At least my doc thinks that’s what’s going on. My spleen is a bit sensitive, but the idea that I, mr calm nature, might be a little splenetic… never occurred to me.
Of course I put my foot down and sayed "Heck No"! 
