The Trip Home

Monday, August 30, 2001. Overnight, moderate rain had fallen intermittently, the rain on the metal roof overhead fairly noisy. I was quite happy to awake in a perfectly dry tent and bedding. The fairgrounds were deserted this early in the morning, so I used the quiet time to shower and shave in the restrooms within the classroom building.

About 8:20, while I was making some coffee, using the back of the pusher as a picnic table, Jennifer hurried in and recruited Jacques and I to help move a large TV/VCR that she had borrowed from the Forrest Service office. It needed to be back right away, so we loaded it and the metal stand into her VW transporter and headed off for the federal offices. Jacques and I followed in his car, as the TV took up all of the passenger seat in the old VW truck's front.

After unloading the equipment and setting it up inside the offices, Jacques and I went to the John Day Radio Shack store to find a replacement transistor for the controller in the EV. This part would be essential for the trip home. I managed to grab the last 2N3055 transistor on the shelf, and installed it back in the stock barn, while also packing up the tent and bedding and organizing the car for the trip home. The new semiconductor corrected the controller problem, so I put a finishing charge on the batteries, loaded the bicycle onto the rack, and we drove out of the barn into the rain. Once on the pavement, I found that I had no throttle once again, the new (and only available) part had failed after only a couple of hundred feet. I considered my options, which were to leave the car in John Day and ride home with Jacques, returning at some point to try and fix the controller in a more permanent manner, or to try and make it to Prineville and find another electronics store, and repair the problem with hopes of better luck. It would be tough going over the pass without electric assist, but I decided to try it, and we set off for the west after a series of stops to get propane for the fumigation system, put the pusher in gear (forgot), and find out why the clutch wasn't working (again).

Finally, we got to the end of town, I engaged the pusher and shut down the EV to coast. We made pretty good time in spite of being held up behind a slow motor home, which turned off at Dayville, leaving us to barrel down the road at 65 MPH, making a little dent in the trip ahead.

Considering that I had to shut off the ignition, powering down the electric drive after about 40 MPH, things were going pretty well. I did find that I had forgotten to turn the ignition key back on after the shut down a time or two, and only managed to catch the problem because the wipers wouldn't work with the key off. This could be a disastrous problem if forgotten too long, as the steering wheel lock could catch the first time I went around a corner, sending the car off the road or worse.

There seemed to be a lot of construction on the highway, and we were stopped by flagmen several times. The last time, it had been raining quite a bit and the trucks entering the highway to transport soil had left a thick layer of mud, which I had to drive the car and pusher through, coating both with thick muck.

After going through Picture Gorge, I turned off towards Kimberly on highway 19, partly to let the semi truck that had been following at a respectful distance pass, but mostly to pull over and shift the pusher into third gear for the trip up the Table Mountain pass, the first pass that I would be attempting to climb without the assistance of the electric drive.

Downshifted the pusher and got back onto highway 26, and found that I could still assist the pusher even with the EV able only to idle. Whenever my speed went below 40 MPH, I engaged the electric drive in fourth gear on the EV, and was able to hold a decent speed going up the fairly steep and twisty road. At one point, as I was entering a sharp curve, I slacked off on the pusher's throttle, but the servo didn't respond. This resulted in the trailer kacking around a little bit, swerving from side to side in a fairly alarming manner. This was the first and only time that the dire expectations of those who wonder if a single-point hitch is safe nearly came true.

At the top of the Table Mountain pass, I pulled over to put the pusher back into fourth gear for the decent, and found (yet again) that the clutch wasn't operating, and I shuddered to a stop, with Jacques behind. Even with the trailer stationary, I couldn't get the drill motor to do anything but buzz, so there was nothing else to do but pull it along, back into traffic, chugging and bucking until the speed was sufficient to make the diesel motor run.

Went through the gears on the EV, and at this point, things get a little hazy in my memory. I must have turned the EV off at some stage of the decent. As my speed increased, I decided to rub off a little of the velocity by using regenerative braking, and put the EV into fourth gear and let out the clutch. No current returned to the batteries, that's weird. Then I realized that I hadn't "started" the EV motor using the ignition key. I twisted the key over to "start" and waited for the contactor under the hood to pull in with a clunk. It didn't happen. I tried it again, letting the clutch out to see if I had just missed the familiar clunking noise of the contactor engaging. Nope, no regen. I watched the E-meter for signs of the motor starting or running, and saw only a 60 amp discharge when turning the key to "start".

By now, the car and trailer were kind of hauling ass down the steep hill, and I had to ride the brakes hard to keep from getting out of control.

At the turn off for the town of Mitchell, very close to the bottom of the pass, I pulled of the road and tried the motor again. The usual clicking of the smaller contactors was normal, but instead of the motor quickly gaining speed, I heard the big armature spin up very slowly.

I opened the controller to find that the soft-start contactor had suffered a catastrophic fire, and the inside of the controller box had been singed with flame and smoke. With Jacques watching, I tried starting the motor again. His commentary from the front of the car wasn't encouraging. "It's beginning to smoke, now the parts are glowing, it's turning orange!"

With no way to pull the pusher up to speed, and the pusher clutch not operating, I closed the hood and said: "This trip is over".

Walking the couple of hundred yards from the highway into town, I passed the city park, a card-lock fuel station, a restaurant, and then decided to inquire at the Wheeler County General Store if there was a secure place to store the car and trailer so that I could arrange to have them hauled back home in a few days' time. I explained, briefly, my situation to Michelle, the proprietor of the store, after which she led me over to the feed barn across the street. "You boys get all these get all of these motorcycles out of the way, this fellow is going to park his car here", were her orders to the guys working on about a dozen bikes in various states of disassembly. While the cycles were pushed out of the way and stored closer together in another part of the barn, I walked back up to the car and coasted it down the hill, and right through the barn door. Disconnected the trailer and pushed it out of the way on one side, as maneuvered the car into the back of the structure, so that the small forklift could still be used to access feed and salt blocks for customers purchases. I disconnected the EV's battery pack to preclude any possibility of repeat fires under the hood, then transferred the most important of my belongings to Jacques' already fairly well-packed Rabbit.

Back at the General Store, I left my name and number, and the key to the car, in case it needed to be moved. I learned that the store had a rich history, having been built in the 1880's and it once housed the assayer's office when there were numerous gold claims and mining in the area. Of course, I offered to pay for the storage of the car for however long it was there, but my payment was politely refused.

Back at the car, Jacques was filling a one gallon jug with Biodiesel for the motorcycle mechanics to try as a cleaning solvent. They were also intensely interested in the EV and pusher. I guess they don't get too many electric vehicles in these parts.

Before leaving, we paid a visit to Henry, the town black bear, who lives in a cage next to the filling station. Henry had been adopted by Mitchell when the charitable organization which raised him had gone out of business. Still a yearling, we were told that Hugh, his master, frequently wrestles with him, but many locals think that will end soon, as Henry matures, and Hugh isn't getting any bigger or younger!

I got into Jacques' Rabbit, and we headed west. My disappointment at the abrupt ending of my return trip was tempered by the gratitude that I wasn't having to hitch-hike, and at least I'd be returning home still powered by Biodiesel.

A few miles from Mitchell, we came upon the turnout for the Painted Hills Unit of the John Day National Monument. As we had planned on making the 12 mile detour from the beginning of the return trip, and had missed lunch while fooling with the EV and trailer, we turned north for a recreational side trip.

The rain had let up and the clouds parted partially to light the hills with spectacular contrasts of direct sun, soft overcast and dark shadows. The air was clean and still, and the temperature warmed appreciably when the sun came out in patches. We ate sandwiches and fruit, and got into a friendly competition to see who could reload their camera with media faster, Jacques with film, and I scrabbling in a pocket of my pack for the spare memory stick for my digital camera. I won, but not by very much.

A few other visitors made the climb up to the observation area, driving up, getting out to look and take a few photos, then jumping back into their cars to continue their vacation trips. None spent more than 5 minutes there, and we began to feel like old-timers after a half an hour. Of course, we had about 200 miles to cover ourselves, and soon made for the highway to complete the trip.

Jacques and I conversed freely for the rest of the trip, and get to know one another better. A rest stop at Belknap Hot Springs, then the final leg of the journey, arriving home after 5:00PM. Delivery right to my door, what more could I ask of anyone, much less an acquaintance of only two days? My profound thanks to Jacques for his help and support, without which I would have been facing a greater trial as a result of this breakdown.

Next...I finish this never-ending travelogue up and get back to pusher construction!