I was working on a 1997 Sebring JX, which is a convertible in case you don't
know Chrysler terminology. Anyway, I was looking for a noise that the owner
said
was driving her crazy. Now, it's not unusual for me to try to check out
a "noise
complaint." But this one turned out to be one of the most
interesting ones that
I've come across. And when I finally did figure it
out, it reminded me of some
of the wacky things I've run across in my many
years turning wrenches.
Anyway, the owner says the noise is coming from
somewhere in the dash-console
area. And it doesn't seem to matter if the car
is running or not. The noise is
supposed to be there all the time. Sure
enough, I hear the noise. This is an
important distinction. Quite often I
just can't. Sure, it might be there, but I
just don't hear it. Maybe my ears
are just too old or maybe I'm just not
familiar with the cacophony of sounds
that the car normally emits, and the new
addition is just drowned in the
background.
But this noise is distinct. It is a clear beep. And if you
were to time it, like
with a stop watch, which is what I did, you'd discover
that it beeps exactly
every 2 minutes. On the dot. And like most noises,
it's damn hard to locate. It
seems to be coming from everywhere. Kinda' like
a pager going off in a crowded
room and everyone looking down at the same
time. And being a convertible made
matters even worse, because the noise was
less confined than it would be if
there was a top on the car.
I have
this cool tool that is essentially a pair of headphones connected to a
microphone. You can use it to hear teeny weenie sounds that are impossible
to locate. Just stick the microphone where you think the sound is coming
from
and give it a listen. It hears valve tap, piston knock, and water pump
bearing
noises really well. It also hears air leaks and hard to track down
squeaks and
rattles. And you can turn up the volume and even hear your own
heart beat!
So I grab the tool and find the beeper lodged between the
passenger seat and the
console. The lady owner lost it a week before, and
was absolutely grateful when
I showed it to her. Now how do you charge for a
job like that? Anyway, it
reminded me of other strange jobs I've had. Like
the 1991 Buick Regal that came
in with the red battery warning light
glowing. Open the hood and there's a
brand-spanking new battery and
alternator. Whoops. Something really wrong here.
Somebody's spent a bundle
and isn't very happy.
It turned out to be a real hair-puller too. Turn
the key on and start it, and
that light is there staring you right in the
face. So I decided to do a little
detective work and pull the alternator
connector, which should turn off the
light. Right? Wrong. This means there's
something wrong in the wiring. Big time!
Further investigation with a razor
into the wiring harness reveals a mass of the
harness wires melted all
together. A real mess. But oh no! It just doesn't end
there. Not a
chance.
I spend a whole day splicing and repairing the wiring harness
only to find that
this doesn't fix the problem, which was a dead short.
Further detective work
found aluminum foil wrapped around the courtesy light
fuse. But that was not
all. No, it doesn't end there. Nope. The reason the
fuse is wrapped with
aluminum foil was because of a dead short in one of the
accessories, mainly the
cigarette lighter. And the kicker is that someone
(maybe the same boyfriend that
was kind enough to wrap the aluminum foil
around the fuse for her), has put a
brand-new shiny penny in the cigarette
lighter socket.
Which reminds me of another weird alternator electrical
one on a 1989 Cadillac
Deville, which was towed in with a no start
complaint. After running the
standard charging and starter draw tests, it
looks like the alternator is bad.
No biggie. Wham-bam thank-you-ma'am and
it's done. Right? Wrong again, Charlie!
Two days later, it's back in my
face along with the customer who's this
hot-headed 22-year-old military dude
swearing that I'm a rip-off and he's gonna'
call the police. I say wait just
a sec while I check this out, and lo and behold
I see that the battery cable
ends are toast. Funny, I didn't remember them that
way before. How could I
have missed it? So I slap on a couple of those
do-it-yourselfer battery
cable ends and send him on his way.
Well, the Cadillac is back in my face
a week later, hanging from the back of a
wrecker. And Mr. Military Macho-man
is madder than ever. Well, this calls for
some further investigative work
and I tell him to call a cab and I'll let him
know tomorrow what's the
problem with his Deville. Now, mind you, this ain't no
ordinary Deville. The
suspension has been chopped, the wheels are "stylin"
California
super-chromed with tires the thickness of rubber-bands. The windows
are all
blackened-out and the floor in front of the back seat is covered with
huge
speakers. And there are more speakers mounted on the back deck and woofers
under each of the seats.
And this time, when I go to turn the key on,
I'm greeted with an audio
bombardment of gansta-rap that is loud enough to
loosen my fillings and give me
a concussion! It scared me right out of my
wits, and I couldn't move fast enough
to turn the damn thing off. Which of
the 57 buttons is OFF? You know, the kind
of
lyrics-that-spew-expletives-every-two-words kinda' rap-music. Did I say
rap-music? Now that's a real oxymoron.
Oh yes, did I forget to tell
you? There's a hole where the factory radio used to
be and stuffed in it and
hanging half-out of the hole is a huge stereo. And in
the trunk, next to the
pair of 27" speakers is a huge amplifier. Gingerly, I
grabbed hold of the
stereo and pulled it out of the dash. There was a huge gang
of wires going
to it, and the factory harness was severely butchered. The first
thing I
noticed was that the orange wire with a black stripe that goes to the
Body
Control Module was cut and spliced, and that the dash stereo was tapped
into
it using common household electrical wire nuts.
While wire nuts are fine
and good inside an electrical outlet box in the wall of
your house, wire
nuts are not meant to be used in automotive wiring. Why? They
aren't shake
proof. And I cringe any time I see wire nuts on a car or truck. I
can't tell
you how exasperating it was to see literally dozens of them in the
wiring
that was hiding behind the radio. I still shudder when I think about it.
More detective work reveals that the A/C fuse is missing, which just happens
to
be on the same circuit as the alternator. Okay.
With the fuse
happily back in place, the alternator begins charging again. But,
why was it
removed? Did it blow? Further investigation and charging tests reveal
that
when the stereo is cranked up, which I'm sure this brain-dead soldier must
do when he's cruising, causes the system to draw more than 80 amps. Now,
this
alternator is only rated for 75 amps. You do the math and you'll
understand why
the alternator fuse blew when I cranked it up (with ear
protection this time).
The key to unraveling the mystery in the
Gansta-Deville was knowing that we as
mechanics are having to deal with a
whole new breed of customer. To solve the
riddle, it was necessary to crank
up the stereo so that it became obvious that
the charging system couldn't
handle that kind of drain. That lesson I had
learned the hard way, literally
from the school of "Hard Knocks". It involved a
1994 Chevy Caprice that came
to me with a low power complaint.
The reason this Caprice comes to mind
is because it also involved one of those
high-powered stereo systems. But, I
hadn't been to the school of "Knocks" and
didn't know that the stereo played
a part in solving the riddle. Anyway, owner
had some other shop install a
junkyard engine in the Caprice, and that's when he
said the problem began.
But, this was one of those kinds of problems that only
happens for the
customer. You know, it just wouldn't run right for him, but
purred like a
kitten for me.
Finally, after trying and trying to do what I call "Put a
wrench on his word
problem," I decided to make him show me exactly what he
was talking about. So,
we jump in the Chevy and off we go for a spin. And
we're not very far down the
road when he reaches over and turns on the
stereo. Then, he proceeds to crank it
up to ear-shattering levels. Well,
there I sit with my fingers sticking in my
ears while he is driving and sure
enough, the engine starts to falter, surge and
buck.
"Whoa! What's
happening here?" I shouted. He says, "Wait a minute," and proceeds
to turn
down the stereo. And the moment he did, the problem vanished. "That's
why I
couldn't find your problem. It's connected to your blasted rap music!" I
said. I never ran the stereo, nor would I think to run the stereo while
checking
out his problem. In fact, I never touch anyone's radio while
working on their
cars.
Oh sure, I've seen plenty of techs blasting
their customer's radios as they
service their cars. And from time to time
they get caught, as the customer gets
into the car, only to turn on the
ignition and be greeted with a huge blast of
their stereo. And of course,
it's always playing the kind of music they hate
most. And even worse, the
volume is left turned to full blast. Now imagine a
little old lady who only
listens to classical music, getting into her car and
being greeted by
gangster rap at 130 decibels! Not a pretty picture.
And those car radio
presets are an even worse problem. You know, the programming
feature that
lets you set the stations to the ones you like to listen to. The
radio loses
its presets when you disconnect the battery to service the
terminals, right?
But even worse, probably Murphy's seventeenth-law or some
such, it will
automatically program itself to those stations that play the kind
of music
the owner of the car hates most. If the owner likes country, it will
reset
to classical. If he likes classical, it will reset to rap, and so on.
And
when the customer returns and gets in his car to drive away, he is convinced
that the mechanic purposely reset all the stations to the kind of music the
mechanic likes. As if we mechanics have the time in the day to sit around
and
reprogram our customer's radios! Right! But, thanks to Murphy and his
laws, it
sure does get us in trouble, or at least leaves us with some
explaining to do.
And to make matters worse, the late model radios will
just plain lock up and
refuse to work if you disconnect power from them. And
boy, howdy-do, you take a
customer's music away and they'll really get
hopping mad in a big hurry. In
those cases, you have to contact the
dealership and get the unlock code to make
the radio work again. Talk about
a hassle!
Anyway, as I was saying before I drifted away into radio land,
this Chevy would
only run bad when the radio was cranked up. Talk about an
odd problem! "Now what
can playing a radio loud possibly have to do with how
a car runs?" you may be
asking. I sure was.
The very next thing I
did was to monitor the computer with my diagnostic
scanner. Why? Because I
had a hunch that the noise the speakers were making were
somehow rattling a
circuit in the engine control computer, which is pretty much
in the vicinity
of the right-hand radio speaker. I figured that this would show
up somehow
on the data stream from the computer
Well, I was right and wrong. While
the computer didn't show any problems with
the data stream when I cranked up
the stereo, the engine knock detection system
did. In fact, when the stereo
peaked with its "bump-and-thump" chest-pounding
rhythm, the engine timing
retarded in perfect cadence. It was as if the engine
knock sensor was
keeping time with the stereo!
Not believing that an engine knock sensor
could be so sensitive as to be affected
by the stereo, I decided to do a
little detective work. I would try another
knock sensor. That's called "test
by substitution," and that's when the fun
really began. When I went to the
side of the engine block to unscrew the old one
and replace it with a new
one, it was gone. There wasn't any place for it to
screw it into the engine
block, and the wiring harness that should lead to it
was clipped!
How
could I be seeing a knock signal, if the sensor is missing and the harness
has been cut?" I asked myself. Well, to make a long detective story short,
it
turned out that there was still a knock sensor, and it was still
connected to
the computer. You see, in order for the General Motors engine
timing control
system to operate correctly, the knock sensor must be present
and accounted for.
If you disconnect it, the engine control computer will
immediately miss it,
throw off the timing and turn on the "Check Engine"
light.
So when the engine block had been swapped out with another one,
the used block
didn't have anywhere to mount the knock sensor. The previous
mechanic had
clipped off the wire, thinking that he could simply eliminate
this little sensor
and no one would be the wiser. But then, when he started
the engine and the
check engine light came on, he realized that he wasn't
going to get away with
it. So what do you think he did? Well, I'll tell you.
He traced the knock sensor
wire back to the computer, spliced in another
wire, and added the knock sensor
back into the circuit right there at the
computer. And when he was done, he
tucked the knock sensor out of sight,
right behind the speaker! And that's why
the Chevy ran so bad every time the
stereo was cranked up. The knock sensor
thought the engine was pinging and
the computer responded by retarding the
timing!
Anyway, as I said
when I started, this business of being a mechanic has
certainly turned into
a challenge. You never know what kind of strange and
unusual problem is
going to roll into the door next. I remember the time a fat
rat got into a
Fiat timing belt and ruined the engine. Ah, but that's another
story.