Millenial Falcon Down! Flip Flop, Life is Worth It!

Let me start this off with a little play action time:

Luke Skywalker: [on first seeing the Millenium Falcon] What a piece of junk! 

Han Solo: She'll make point five past lightspeed. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've made a lot of special modifications myself. 

Millennial Falcon

Bishop, CA

That's right Han! She may not look like much, but she'll make cruising speeds with an economy of 28 miles per gallon (not typical stat! Maybe added tailwind? Or perhaps driving at less than mach speeds, 45mph). Regardless, The Millennial Falcon rides on! A lot like me, she was born in the Fall of 1988. A beautiful Fall it was. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, leaves were changing, and I was in a deep dark crevice sprouting fingers and toes! We met for $750 in the Fall 2010. She took me clear from Bend to Phoenix, Phoenix to Vegas, to Joshua Tree, to Bishop, back to Phoenix, back to Bend, etc... Aside from changing a few tires, bleeding the brakes, and keeping up with regular maintenance, I have done no major repairs to it, and it's never left me stranded. 

I too have made some modifications to the whip! (see figure 1-1). A bed! A drawer! A bedroom, and a kitchen! My lucky stars! To be Franks (see T$ in the photo?) it is a rather grotesque and medieval means of living. The interior was built in the fall of 2010 over a 2 day period right there in the Smith Rock Bivouac. It sucks actually, but I'm no carpenter, and I'm definitely no engineer. It's extremely livable and the rent is cheap. She is due for an upgrade. Spring 2012?

Fig. 1-1

Justin and I leave Bend, Oregon for Boulder, Colorado on Monday, what is supposed to be something of a 19 to 20 hour trip. Two hours into the journey, just as the sun sets and the moon fills the sky with it's warm glow, just eight miles from Burns, Oregon, just as we pull into a random dirt road leading to a house, the headlights become more dim than before and I can't even see the ground in front of me. Well damn, I remember this. This happened to my friend's van. Alternator, says my brain! How far is town? I don't know at this point. Do I need a tow? That'll cost me cheddar and I don't have triple A! Justin and I walk to the creaky old house, a dog is barking inside and an old man comes to the door with a weary look. In a very disgruntled what-the-hell-do-you-want mannerism, he asks me, 'what the hell do you want?'. A phone book? I write down some digits and hand him back the yellow pages. Thanks we say. We head back to the van, take a seat and ponder upon things. Maybe it will start, I think. Doubtful. I put the key in the ignition, turn it over, and VROOM! What? This is impossible! We head towards Burns. Lights aren't dim, van is running well. This doesn't make sense. About 5 miles out, she starts doing it again. Headlights are going dim with a quickness. The battery is not getting a charge! Dash lights light up and I see a truck stop! Maybe we can make it! One mile to go. Puttering now. Half mile away and she's really trying hard! I cut off a car while turning left into the parking lot, for fear that if I slow down to a stop, it will stay there. Pull into a dirt lot and stop. She shuts down on me! 


It's 7:30 Monday night, Columbus Day. Nothing can be done but to wait it out until the morning. I'm certain we'll be on the road by noon. We grab some beer and dinner from the truck stop, throw the wheel on my badass fixie bike (hipster stat fsho) and spin it around the parking lot for a while, until it gets too cold. 

We crash in the van that evening, head to feet (no gay shit going on here). In the morning Mike the mechanic charges up the battery, throws a voltmeter on the battery and decides that my prognosis is accurate. Alternator blown out! (I am so smart! S-M-R-T!) In a spur of coffee and phone calls to five auto parts shops in town, there isn't a single alternator that will fit my van. At least, not until the following morning. So, you're saying we have all day to kick it at this truck stop? Yes! This blog was created, television was watched, and that's about that. 


Wednesday morning I wake up at 8am. The Napa truck pulls to a stop in front of the shop. I see my alternator in all it's brand newness and glory! The angels weap! I grab some coffee and hop online to talk with my dad for a minute and start getting anxious. Mike seems really busy this morning, so I ask him what's on his plate. He tells me he's slammed but will get around to fixing my van in about 20 minutes. I ask Mike if I can simply do the labor myself. 'Well sure kid, do you have your own tools?' As a matter of fact, I do! 'Do you think you'll be able to fix it?' Of course, if I have any questions I'll holler. 'Okay'

Millennial Falcon in the shop!

M.F. 

I pull the M.F. up to the pit, seeing as how the engine sits under the seat and the alternator sits below the engine, having a pit to work below the van is a luxury. I whip open my how-to-fix-any-problem-EVER manual and double check protocol. Simple, I think. A couple wrench tweaks here and there, loosening of a belt, and comes down the old alternator. A couple simple tweaks and jerks, and wallla, new alternator takes its place. All in all, 1 hour down, 70$ saved. Nothing like fixing your own things to make a man feel like a man! Am i wrong? 

View from below van

We leave Burns and drive nonstop, highway after highway, four gas fillups, and 20 hours later we arrive in Arvada, Colorado at 9:30 Thursday morning. Mikey is going to work. Wired in a way that being awake for 24 straight hours only can do, I shower, throw in some laundry and go to bed.