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It all started one night when I was at work. Not the Army, but the bar where I'm moonlighting as a bartender for a little extra cash. The owner informed me that I was officially the owner of a ratted-out Aerostar that was sitting behind the building for a couple of years. Do what I will, but it is now my vehicle and my issue.
And the PedoVan was born.
The vehicle itself is a '90 3.0 V6 Eddie Bauer extended-length all-wheel-drive version. It was stolen in 2005 and recovered early '06. There is a bunch of crap in it that the police determined was "unclaimed, untraceable"...therefore stuck with the van. All the windows past the B pillar were spray-bombed black from the inside. The rear bench seats are missing, the column is nothing short of destroyed, and "disgusting" isn't the best word for the shape of the interior. Add to this fun, it's been sitting, nonrunning, since '06, same gas in the tank, same plugs that it got from the factory, and all.
I took the keys last Thursday and opened it up. The smell that hit me made me puke...something has molded inside. So I left the side windows open all day to vent out the evil that had begotten the interior and started looking for a free-range dumster so that if I could get this rolling catastrophe running, I could back up to a dumpster and start shoveling. Then I tried to start it. No shock, the battery installed was dead beyond dead, nevermind my futile 40-min. attempt to charge it with the Monte Carlo. I took the battery out of another one of her project cars (anyone want a cheap LeBaron convt.? PM me!) and by divine intervention, the bastard choked, puked, bitched, and somehow managed to not only start but settle into a really funky idle. Things were definetly wrong (the Ford, running, a first ;D) but not F'd yet.
I mentioned the van in passing to a friend of mine, Mike, on a fishing trip. Mike hit hard times recently, having to sell his lifted '94 Ranger to keep up with bills. I was planning on derbying the PedoVan at first opportunity and burning the hulk...but Mike saw more to this 4-wheeled C.F. and was interested. Nothing I could say would deter him, so we made plans for Friday, to start working on the van to see what we could do. Friday morning we picked up a 3-day pass from the DMV, loaded the Mirada with tools and drove to the bar. And that's when, after two months of unseasonably warm and sunny weather, WA State decided it had enough happy days and proceeded to piss all over our parade...and us, too.
We decided that the only way to get the van to a decent running level was to run the bad gas out of it. We'd run it half the day, fill the tank up, take it to Smog and see what happened for shits and giggles. The nearest gas station was a block away. How bad could it be?
Well...folks, I've driven some shitty cars in my time. A Caprice that tried to self-immolate a few dozen times. A Chevelle that launched it's harmonic balancer out from underneath the car on the Interstate. A Mercury Comet with almost no brakes. The PedoVan takes the cake. You tried to gas it, it'd stall, then it was 20 seconds of cranking before the engine would try to kick over. Usually took 3 or 4 tries to fire the engine. Which can make your ass pucker like none other when you stalled in a perfect T-bone accident setup and a Kenworth W900 is bearing down on your side of the van. I swear, I though Mike was gonna hop out and make a run for it.
We managed to get it to drive down to the smog station. Both of us were laughing our asses off, just waiting to get pulled over or to have the smog-check people call the cops. Keep in mind, the van is still filled with assorted crap...and for bonus points, as I'm getting the ticket for the smog-check, Mike finds a pellet gun in the back, the size, shape, and look of a Mossberg 500 shotgun. I pull up to the station, the guy tells me to roll down the window. Uh, nope, that ain't happenin'. So I open the door. The look of horror on his face said it all. I joked, "Don't judge me." Him: "Too late." He grabbed a plug and told me to plug it into the cigarette lighter. I held up the cigarette lighter...it was on the floor next to the shifter. Next? "Pop the hood"....in short, fail for 3x the legal amount of hydrocarbons.
To today: Spark plugs in an Aerostar are a BITCH to do when you're my size. Thank Christ Mike is smaller than me by a considerable amount...one broken plug, two bad plug wires. It was a 3-cyl. wonder. We dumped a ton of injector cleaner into the tank. We drove the hell out of it today. Got the digital dash working. Spent $25 in parts at the yard, now we have everything but the power windows working. Still need to do the steering column, but I refuse to do any more work until it passes smog.
Viva la PedoVan! (will post pictures later.)
And the PedoVan was born.
The vehicle itself is a '90 3.0 V6 Eddie Bauer extended-length all-wheel-drive version. It was stolen in 2005 and recovered early '06. There is a bunch of crap in it that the police determined was "unclaimed, untraceable"...therefore stuck with the van. All the windows past the B pillar were spray-bombed black from the inside. The rear bench seats are missing, the column is nothing short of destroyed, and "disgusting" isn't the best word for the shape of the interior. Add to this fun, it's been sitting, nonrunning, since '06, same gas in the tank, same plugs that it got from the factory, and all.
I took the keys last Thursday and opened it up. The smell that hit me made me puke...something has molded inside. So I left the side windows open all day to vent out the evil that had begotten the interior and started looking for a free-range dumster so that if I could get this rolling catastrophe running, I could back up to a dumpster and start shoveling. Then I tried to start it. No shock, the battery installed was dead beyond dead, nevermind my futile 40-min. attempt to charge it with the Monte Carlo. I took the battery out of another one of her project cars (anyone want a cheap LeBaron convt.? PM me!) and by divine intervention, the bastard choked, puked, bitched, and somehow managed to not only start but settle into a really funky idle. Things were definetly wrong (the Ford, running, a first ;D) but not F'd yet.
I mentioned the van in passing to a friend of mine, Mike, on a fishing trip. Mike hit hard times recently, having to sell his lifted '94 Ranger to keep up with bills. I was planning on derbying the PedoVan at first opportunity and burning the hulk...but Mike saw more to this 4-wheeled C.F. and was interested. Nothing I could say would deter him, so we made plans for Friday, to start working on the van to see what we could do. Friday morning we picked up a 3-day pass from the DMV, loaded the Mirada with tools and drove to the bar. And that's when, after two months of unseasonably warm and sunny weather, WA State decided it had enough happy days and proceeded to piss all over our parade...and us, too.
We decided that the only way to get the van to a decent running level was to run the bad gas out of it. We'd run it half the day, fill the tank up, take it to Smog and see what happened for shits and giggles. The nearest gas station was a block away. How bad could it be?
Well...folks, I've driven some shitty cars in my time. A Caprice that tried to self-immolate a few dozen times. A Chevelle that launched it's harmonic balancer out from underneath the car on the Interstate. A Mercury Comet with almost no brakes. The PedoVan takes the cake. You tried to gas it, it'd stall, then it was 20 seconds of cranking before the engine would try to kick over. Usually took 3 or 4 tries to fire the engine. Which can make your ass pucker like none other when you stalled in a perfect T-bone accident setup and a Kenworth W900 is bearing down on your side of the van. I swear, I though Mike was gonna hop out and make a run for it.
We managed to get it to drive down to the smog station. Both of us were laughing our asses off, just waiting to get pulled over or to have the smog-check people call the cops. Keep in mind, the van is still filled with assorted crap...and for bonus points, as I'm getting the ticket for the smog-check, Mike finds a pellet gun in the back, the size, shape, and look of a Mossberg 500 shotgun. I pull up to the station, the guy tells me to roll down the window. Uh, nope, that ain't happenin'. So I open the door. The look of horror on his face said it all. I joked, "Don't judge me." Him: "Too late." He grabbed a plug and told me to plug it into the cigarette lighter. I held up the cigarette lighter...it was on the floor next to the shifter. Next? "Pop the hood"....in short, fail for 3x the legal amount of hydrocarbons.
To today: Spark plugs in an Aerostar are a BITCH to do when you're my size. Thank Christ Mike is smaller than me by a considerable amount...one broken plug, two bad plug wires. It was a 3-cyl. wonder. We dumped a ton of injector cleaner into the tank. We drove the hell out of it today. Got the digital dash working. Spent $25 in parts at the yard, now we have everything but the power windows working. Still need to do the steering column, but I refuse to do any more work until it passes smog.
Viva la PedoVan! (will post pictures later.)
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