Two people. One Nissan Xterra from Craigslist. A few replacement parts. And very few dollars left.
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It was once impossible to watch even Red Green on television without seeing a CASH4GOLD sales pitch amid eloquent commercial interruption. Simply place your valuable gold jewelry into a clear sandwich bag, Ziploc it safely in a clear bag known as a Refinerâs Pack, and hand it off to the same people that struggle to deliver postcards on time. If it ever did find its way to Pompano Beach, FL, it would be weighed and appraised. However this was ultimately CASH4GOLDâs demise. Through a mystery shopper program, it was discovered that CASH4GOLD was unsurprisingly more 4GOLD than they were for giving anyone cash. Rings worth $17 in weight at other places, ended up yielding just $7.91 to these corporate leprechauns in Florida.
I was worried about the same practice with the used engine we replaced our Xterraâs dead engine with. Its former shell, a carcass of a Solar Yellow 2002 Xterra whose front engine collisions happened so suddenly, the exhaust manifold cracked on either side of the 3.3-liter V-6. Whatever hit it, was big and fast. My wallet on the other hand, especially during this debacle, was also reaching excessive speeds, but was ever-shrinking. This engine needed to work, and if it didnât, I might as start working on getting a second job.
Itâs first oil change was scary. It was similar to an experience I had in college, where beer bottles in the dorm didnât signify whatever was in that bottle was beer. It could be warm beer, cold beer, or in once instance a suspiciously pale, pale ale that for a reason still a mystery today, was just a dark glass of urine. Iâm not drinking to that ever again.
The oil was black, especially for an engine that had only seen roughly 50 miles of use. What wasnât as black, was the creamy grey color of some sort of moisture that also came out of both the oil filter and the oil pan. Slithering around the drain pan like a snake, ready to snatch grocery money from the innocent, to pay for head gaskets, or worse, cylinder heads. Only to shed itâs skin later, elsewhere under the hood, and slide toward the truckâs next weakest point. Which to be honest, could be anywhere. Even the new rear hatch struts I bought from RockAuto couldnât hold the tailgate up now that thereâs a ladder on it.
Was this coolant? Or was this just moisture from an engine that was once left for dead in the back-40 of Uncle Earlâs Chop Shop and sometimes Medicinal Green Plant Boutique? I needed another oil change to find out. And to be honest, I wanted to drive home, then drive back to work and drain it just to find out, but that really wouldnât tell me much. As I began driving the truck each day again to and from work, without any trips lasting longer than 30 minutes, it really sank in how far this truck has come.Â
Maia and I put the engine in ourselves and wrestled with all kinds of exhaust manifold issues,. Several times we played with the idea of maybe itâs time to call it quits on this pile. But here we are now, driving it back to life from the dead. While it was down, an Xterra Facebook page we had joined started to sing familiarity, as other Xterras began to drop throughout the community. Iâm not big on conspiracy theories, but like my cousin who doesnât think climate change is real but is convinced chemtrails are, I was certain this was all Obamaâs fault in some way, and just like my grandmother, we too would soon end up in an internment camp for the New World Order. Because under the tinfoil hats, arenât we all lizard people?
To be fair though it was the largest, oil wasnât the only concern. The truck still had a bad steering box, whose dripping power steering system has long been 100% Lucas Powersteering StopLeak. The Doug Thorley ceramic-coated headers now positioned the rest of the exhaust in such a way the tailpipe rattles against the receiver, so during redlights it sounds like some drunken clown is just constantly dropping joke pots and pans. The steering wheel pulled to the right during moderate braking. This of course turned into a dangerous dance of correction under heavy or sudden braking. The best I could do was replace the front brake hoses, the seized caliper, and cut the tailpipe off to clamp on a shorter dropdown that would move it away from the receiver. Some problems solved. Others forgotten or not yet found.
After a few weeks of driving, which butted up to the day before our debut weekend winter-camping trip, it was time to inspect the oil again. This time brought heart-warming results. It was still incredibly dark, but no moisture contamination! It was seriously fantastic news.
Although I donât carry much confidence with me into this truck, part of what little love I do have for it returned that evening. The next morning, we packed the truck full of camping gear and journeyed north into the snowflakes to camp along the AuSable river.
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
In hockey there are ultimately four lines of defense. The front line of that defense, is of course the two skaters who are, well yeah, playing defense. The second, is the guy on the team with the most expensive paint job on his helmet; the starting goaltender. Thatâs right, your Patrick Roys, Henrik Lundqvists, Arturs Irbes,  and if youâre watching the Red Wings, whoever didnât get pulled last game after letting in four goals in the first period. Behind those guys are the backup goalies who play when the starter is sick, injured, doing bad, or might need a break after too many consecutive games. These guys are the real heroes, who often boost morale for the team from the end of the bench usually reserved for the stick rack or medical staff. Who does that leave? The lonely soul whoâs phone number lay etched in a bar napkin buried beneath the tattered cardboard from a 20-pack of Powerade crushed under the second row of seats in the coachâs Suburban. The one whoâs a foot shorter than the teamâs shortest center. The man who works part-time at the fitness center, but full-time in the paint department at an Ace Hardware. The one thatâs rarely called. The one thatâs never sober. The emergency goalie.
It was two weeks before our very own number one suffered catastrophic engine failure. Which to be clear isnât any of the times it overheated, needed another new fuel pump or another alternator, or even when it just didnât want to do anything for months. Two weeks before the inevitable happened, I bought another Xterra. My theory was that if the one I bought for just over $2000 was both a living nightmare and a RockAuto vendorâs wet dream, could you imagine what type of wild pleasure I could unearth after putting my Herbie Hancock amid the stained edges of the title to one for $800?
It was a 2001, one-owner, 231,XXX mile, replacement muffler included in the price, squeals when you turn the wheel too far in either direction dream cruise. You know how anyone with a pink deer decal on the back of either their Pontiac G6 or Jeep Liberty is a tan blonde college girl? Solar Yellow, is that pink deer decal for Xterras. Like that decal, this color too screams I AM PASSIONATE OF NOTHING to strangers in traffic. Many Xterra owners resort to nicknaming their trucks after the retro arcade game that will never die, PacMan, which is fitting because for every year the Xterra was sold up until 2009, the truck was available in Solar Yellow. Complete with the stereotypical damage-multiplier bumper that works as well as a wrist brace in a fist fight, because whatever youâve just ran into regardless of where on the front of the truck youâve ran into it, has now equally distributed itâs damage to both headlights and across the top of the hood. And much like any American Cheese yellow SUV, the brush guard front bumpers with matching taillight cages, are fucking ugly.
This four-wheel-drive squinting like youâre taking a shit emoji Xterra had sat for over two years before little oleâ âI should know betterâ [me] came running to it. It needed work.
All four shocks felt pretty toast, but only the front tires were worn down to the cords. Have you heard of Provider Entrada tires? Neither did I, but if it sounds like a menu item at Chipotle and they come in pairs for $30; as long as my girlfriend doesnât find out, count me in. The tires from the junkyard held air, so next was a second oil change. The oil was dark, and to avoid a second blown engine, I drove for a few days with the first fresh oil change, but soon changed it again just to be safe. Spark plugs and wires were next, and to my surprise, this truck had 5 champion spark plugs, and one NGK. The lone NGK plug was that pesky sparkplug#6 that apparently if youâre too stupid to figure out a simple combination of wobble extensions and u-joints, you just fucking leave it in there forever hoping it changes itself. It doesnât.
With a $40 Walmart battery I hit the streets in a truck that was roughly a Dodge Journey Uber ride to work for a week less embarrassing, than having to Uber to work for a week in a fucking Dodge Journey. It had a sunroof, which our Xterra didnât, but the stock radio was a serious killer. Iâm convinced only clinically insane people still listen to AM/FM radio in 2017. The best part about paying for a music subscription is that unlike AM/FM radio, you have access to more than 8 different songs from the last 200 years.
The power steering pump was in bad shape and I didnât want to replace it. I had hoped soon I could sell this lemon meringue pie eyesore, so I kept maintenance to a minimum. Did it need a timing belt and water pump? Probably. Did it wobble both times I drove it on the highway at 65mph because the original shocks just couldnât shock anymore? Sure. Was I going to fix any of that? Not this time you fucking money pit.
I did replace the muffler because I knew it would help it sell. The y-pipe did look like it might need replaced soon, but the previous owner only had the muffler section, so there was no sense in not installing free parts. The check engine light had been defeated, and after a junkyard hood latch assembly was bolted on, the hood could now stay closed without the help from ratchet straps or duct tape.
The interior however is where things got really messy. Mold had grown in both of the rear-passenger cupholders and blanketed across each scratched plastic panel and cushion seat sat a layer of neglect. Chicken nuggets and broken Asprins had invaded the carpet. We found over $14 in pocket change, and after removing the front seats to power wash them, through some sort of fake-reality restoration TV magic, brought the interior back to life.Unfortunately on this TV show, none of our wealthy cousins, who we had hired hours before the filming for the episode started, called us willing to pay a lot of money for something so worthless.
During the prolonged downtime, this $800 pineapple-flavored life saver came in handy numerous times. It was used to haul tools and parts back and forth between work at home, as well as go under the knife a few times to test various parts between the two trucks. As humiliating as it was to drive everyday, it spent more days this year as a functioning vehicle, than the silver Xterra has ever achieved consecutively.
After the engine swap hit rock bottom, I knew I had to get away from something old with so many miles, and soon. After only a few days listed on Craigslist, where all project cars begin, someone actually serious about buying it called, and I sold the truck for $1700. The extra money was a huge help, especially because I had to find something, and move away from the every evening and weekend consuming hobby of owning yet another Nissan anything.
Itâs a perfect example of being an emergency goalie. Youâre on-call for a long time without ever getting called, but when youâre called upon for those meaningless last two minutes in the game, youâre better than nothing, and sometimes, thatâs just good enough.
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
Have you met Doug Thorley? He was a mountain of a man!
Time to step into the square circle son! I met your father once in a steel cage match. I wish you couldâve seen your old man, weepinâ like woman after my patented piledriver. Yeah your dad remembers me! Wooo yeaaaah!
Hereâs what the average guy does in the face of defeat:
Step 1: Look it up on YouTube
Step 2: If it looks too hard, pay someone to do it
Step 3: Move on with life
But unfortunately, Iâm not your average guy. Iâm the type of person who even while looking imminent failure dead in the eyes, cleans off his scratched eyeglasses, and then only gets as far as halfway to work before realizing Iâve left them in the kitchen of my apartment. Afterall, you canât spell perseverance without crap.
Hereâs how we ended up where we are now.
Letâs begin by stating the obvious. Everything from eBay is garbage. So much it might as well be Harbor Freightâs uglier twin sister. The ever-helpful geniuses of Facebook will tell you when upgrading your exhaust, DNA headers r gud enough, quickly followed by an anti-Hillary Clinton meme. But the emails!
DNA headers arenât good. They might be $150, which is cheap compared to the legit option of Doug Thorleyâs $450 longtubes, but itâs because theyâre complete trash. Is it really cheaper to save $300 on something if it doesnât work? Hereâs some worthless advice from someone whoâs never bought a house. Buy car parts, like youâre buying a home. Do the parts youâre buying look like they were made from chain-link fence? Donât buy it. Are you meeting the seller in a neighborhood that doesnât have street lights? Donât buy it. Are you on eBay right now? Stop!
Here are what a pair of DNA headers look like:
Not only were the welds cracked. The flange was warped. Not only were the flanges warped, the holes in the flanges for the exhaust studs, all needed to be drilled out to fit. I almost forgot to mention that on top of all of that, the bung for the EGR tube, isnât even close to being in the right spot, and they donât come with a plug. So in the grand scheme of things, these are complete shit. Hey, have I mentioned yet that DNAMotoring wonât respond to any of my messages on eBay regarding a refund?
So I bought Doug Thorleyâs, and all my problems have been solved. The exhaust leak at the head is no more, I can use my EGR tube, which means I can still use the EGR valve! Hereâ the difference in quality:
The flange is a thicker, better material, and the welds are beautiful. And after two pairs of headers from eBay that didnât fit my truck, not only can I say Iâm a pro at Xterra exhausts, I can also admit Iâm a complete fool for trying to take a shortcut, that ended up costing me 6 months of downtime. Fuck you DNAMotoring, and I hope you eat shit and rot in hell.
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
A lot has happened since we last updated the ebb and flow of owning a 2003 Nissan Xterra from Craigslist. It would turn out, that owning this truck is somewhat of a curse. Even after three fuel pumps, new timing components, two water pumps, and enough suspension bits to lift even Donald Trumps orange chin just far enough above his own bullshit to catch a few breaths, there are still parts left to break! And they did.
Heading through Ohio on the way to watch a friend drift his turbocharged 1980s Nissan 300zx, a car that holds a place in my heart like the movie Titanic because it was the first time I saw titties, the Xterra was pounding pavement without issue. With the check engine light bright enough to illuminate a room full of do-it-yourself trophies the cabin was ripe with paranoia of wheels falling off, fuel pump failure, or who knows, maybe weâd actually make it this trip. Nope.
A sudden !BANG! and the RPMs dropped to the bottom of the tachometer. And my jaw followed the needle. My heart, fell just past both. Smoke rose from the edges of the hood, as I coasted the truck to the shoulder of the road. At first I thought, okay the timing belt is toast, and so is my weekend. Haha, oh no. It wasnât the belt. I checked the oil and it wasnât full, but the dipstick wasnât dry either. Smoke burned up through the EGR tube from the manifold. I removed the oil fill cap, and more smoke poured from the top of the valve cover. I put some more oil in it, and it actually started.
If youâve left a spoon in the sink, and somehow for the two weeks its sat there, eventually found its way into the drain the churning of metal against metal when someone trips the garbage disposal is exactly what it sounded like. I confirmed the timing belt was good by removing the distributor cap and giving it little cranks. The rotor turned, as it should. At that point a pool of oil began to form under the truck.
After the tow truck dropped us off back at the parking lot from where the Xterra had just sat for weeks, it had left even more oil on the bed. It was possibly the darkest white flag to be flown.
This truck defines ebb and flow so perfectly it will burn a whole through your wallet and jam a spike right in the center of whatever pride you might have left. Everything spiraled out of control after this. I had to source an engine via Craigslist. Drive across the state the next weekend, with a borrowed truck, and a borrowed cherry picker, to get it. The subsequent evenings and free weekends became completely consumed with pulling new parts off a broken engine to put on an engine I had only mere hopes of working. It would be halfway through this period that the property owners at work, or so weâre led to believe, would make a stand against neglected cars, and demand all vehicles out of the parking lot in two weeks, or they would be towed at the owners expense. I called their bluff. Not like there were any other options.
How did I get to work? Just weeks before this I purchased a 2001 Nissan Xterra, as a just in case, for $800. It had over 231,500 miles on it, and hadnât moved in three years. After about $150 in tune up parts, and some trusty new front tires from a local junkyard, it was my daily. The day following the catastrophic engine failure, Maia helped me clean the entire truck. Iâll make a post about that fucking truck in a while and update this section with a link later.
It was Maia and myself who would take on this project. Dropping the front differential was required, and each night we worked on the truck, would take everything we had leftover from the night previous, to push this enormous boat anchor up the hill from the end of the parking lot, and into the garage.
Pulling the front differential revealed the point of impact. A connecting rod had smacked the oil pan, venting the black dish holding all the honey. Even today, I have no idea what caused this. The truck had just came from two different Nissan dealerships, where it had received over a monthâs worth of diagnostic, and service including a timing belt swap. They didnât put the truck back together, because the technician working on it quit the dealership halfway into the repair. So who knows. It couldâve just been itâs destiny. It could be that this truck doesnât want to drive anymore. Like the Devil Z, this could be the Devil X, a ghost of a real truck that wouldnât normally mind a few more miles on the road. This one has no care for what new parts are thrown at it. Itâs a high mileage juvenile without any consideration for where anyone needs to go.
I did everything all over again. Timing belt. Tensioner. Plenum gasket. Injectors and fuel rail. Knock sensor. Spark plugs. Alternator. Power steering pump. Exhaust manifolds and gaskets. Coolant hoses. Distributor. Coolant sensors and even swapped the entire compressor for the air conditioning over. Of course the most consuming part of swapping parts is having to do everything twice. I also replaced the oil pan on the new old motor.
Getting the engine back into the truck was pretty tricky. Because Michigan, I was unable to remove the exhaust manifolds from the secondary cats. So I simply unbolted the exhaust manifolds from the blown motor and pulled it out. Getting the new engine to dance in between both of them was tough. But we did it. And after a few nights of plugging everything in, and bolting it all back together, triple checking there was oil in it, we started it up. And it fired right up!
But it was loud. Like open heads, exhaust loud. Apparently of the five or six times the engine had overheated, at least under my command, the passenger side exhaust manifold had warped, and refused to fully seat to this new old engines cylinder head.
And thatâs where things spiraled, once more, out of control.
I refused to take this engine back out. Itâs in to stay. The exhaust stud ending up stripping the threads inside the head. I had to helicoil the hole, thatâs normally tucked like a fucking retard behind one of four O2 sensors on these trucks. Oh, Iâm sorry, as Jalopnik would like to pretend, THE MOST UNDERRATED TRUCK EVER. Yeah, written like a true someone who has never owned one.
I had to cut an access hole in the tire well, and while doing that, sawed right through a brake line. That was a rough day. I couldnât get the tap to work, or the Helicoils to stay. So I just gave up. I lost my shit, I couldnât handle any more failure. I just completely stopped working on the truck. And itâs really what needed to happen, because within that time, I had waited long enough to think up how to fix this whole problem without just walking around the truck hitting it with a hammer until I was on my knees screaming with blood from my own hands covering my face laughing into the sky as the truck burned behind me.Â
People would ask, is it done yet? Whatâs left on it? I would try to explain to these people the pain and suffering, even with a brief synopsis, trying to describe the pain of working on a truck thatâs hellbent on death falls short on people who couldnât point out an outer tie-rod from under a Ford Focus. I just had to do it and that meant enough crying.
After all of this, because this truck has four catalytic converters, two of which are integrated into the exhaust manifolds, one replacement exhaust manifold, even from RockAuto, is over $460. But like I said, because of corrosion, I would need to replace the secondary cat with it. Which is another $180. Yeah lets not.
So I bought motherfucking EBAY HEADERS BABY. Ebay headers, walker b-pipes that delete the catalytic converters, and some O2 sensor eliminators that should keep the truck from any check engine lights (yeah fucking right) due to lack of cats. It was a fraction of the cost of one manifold. Underrated my fucking ass.
After tonight with everything bolted up, I should be able to drive it, after over 6 months of being broken. One more camping trip, and our time together will come to an end. With it, the story of this blog.
End of Plowed Road: Winter camping for the New Year!
Perhaps one of the most frustrating things about winter, outside of those dreadful family get-togethers with the side of the family youâve spent the last 12 months avoiding, is cabin fever. Thereâs nothing on Netflix funny enough and no channel on YouTube catchy enough to feed that desire of exploration that often just sits and grows when the daytimes shorten and the temperatures fall. If youâre like me, you take a bunch of awful tasting Vitamin D gummies in the morning, but still find that even One-A-Day vitamins have a serving size of two if you look at the back of the bottle. Although itâs only been a few months since our last expedition, our tolerance for the rude people of Ann Arbor has reached itâs breaking point. Itâs wonderful that many dress their leased Ford Escape up like Rudolph, but at least reindeer have the fucking decency to park on the roof, rather than in the middle of an entrance to a parking lot like these assholes. Wait, maybe Iâm the rude one? Regardless, it was time to escape mindless-consumer-copia, to a part of the world that havenât been told cars are driving themselves nowadays. Michiganâs beautiful upper-peninsula.
The ride up, all 4300 pounds of truck, drove against some intense winds on US-23 that began in Brighton, and lasted even after we crossed the Mackinac Bridge in St. Ignace. The fuel mileage on this truck is already bad. Like less than 15mpg bad, but taking 15mpg and pointing it against 30mph winds for 4 hours, well, I had friends in college that wouldnât even drink that much.
On the way up, we saw an amazing rig at a gas station fueling up. Picture a lifted Ford E-Van, with some minor exo-skeleton welded around it, an empty roof-rack, a rear spare-tire carrier, ARB-like bumper armor, and a huge tool box in the back. The license plates said Washington, but the rig looked like it was ready to go across the world. We didnât have a chance to stop the owners for a chat, or take photos, but with a rig like that you could easily live out of it and call the whole world your backyard (ignoring vast portions of ocean of course)!
Another good sign of things to come were the number of trucks hauling snowmobile trailers. Although there are plenty of trails in the lower mitten, the real fun happens in the UP, where portions of the state become accessible to snowmobiles only.
Our plan from the start left us with 3 options for a place to stay once we reached St. Ignace (4.25 hours north of Ann Arbor):
Mackinac Straits State Park
St. Ignace (just over the Mackinac Bridge)
DNR said this was open all year.
Bathrooms/Showers?
Little Brevort Lake State Campground
Charming town of Brevort
DNR said maybe you could get in, even though itâs closed
We hate campgrounds
Garnet Lake State Forest
Naubinway (an hour west of St. Ignace)
Nobody answered when we called for information
What happened to the survivors at the summit?
Alternatively, because we are sleeping inside the truck after-all, we just find a spot and claim it as ours.
When we arrived in St. Ignace, we found that the Straits State Park was closed. Little Brevort, for as thrilling as it sounded, might be closed as well, and Garnet Lake was too far away. So we drove around, using our HemaMaps app to look for trails and roads that led to the coast. Sure enough, we found a spot near the Kewadin Casino, that was right on the coast of Lake Huron! It was down a dirt trail that nobody had been on in the last few snows so it appeared, and eventually turned into some deep frozen tracks that weâd need to safely maneuver to get to the point.
Finding the spot isnât even half the battle though. When the temperatures are at 20 degrees, and the windchill is strong enough to cut even that in half, thereâs still a lot of work to do. This was the first time, Maia and I, had ever camped during the winter. Sure, as kids we can each remember staying out in our snowforts well after the sun had set, but this time nobody would have a hot bowl of soup ready for us when we were done playing.Â
The most important and initial step in this one-night escape would be beer and dinner, in that order. Usually weâd cook, but we had an unshakable taste for pizza. On our way out of B.Câs Pizza in downtown St. Ignace, we asked the delivery driver with the lifted Jeep Grand Cherokee, where we could find firewood. Due to the danger of emerald ash borers, an invasive ash-tree murdering beetle, itâs illegal to transport wood from the lower peninsula, into the upper peninsula, but luckily there was a âguy.â
Jim, whoâs retired, but sells firewood on the road just before you reach the Quality 8 Hotel, has a red and white spaniel with a nub for a tail. Itâs a delightful dog, and will even open the door of Jimâs mobile home to say hello to you if youâre in need of lumber, before Jim is even aware youâre at his home. I had interrupted his night of womenâs basketball, a sport he repeatedly told me he enjoys watching. Thatâs great Jim, but why? Why does this sport fascinate you to the point youâre explaining to me whoâs playing who while standing in freezing cold temperatures in your pajama pants as your spaniel also has itâs own fascination with sniffing crotches and poking butts? Jim finally admitted that he likes womenâs basketball because itâs slower and easier to watch; part of me feels like he may have come to this conclusion because he doesnât pause menâs basketball when itâs on television.
Nevertheless Jim was a huge help in finding cedar, that would light quick, and burn hot for us while we setup the truck. Maia was set on bringing a thousand blankets and sleeping bags. I argued before we left, it would be a waste of space to carry that much, and the camp-detector-test determined, I was wrong.
When you winter camp, everything you attempt takes a few extra steps. Unlike previous camps, we couldnât just throw things on top of the truck overnight, or else they would freeze or blow away. Running around barefoot, was also an obvious, but big, no-no. Peeing; the second night I had to pee so bad, but the temperatures were so cold, I just said fuck this I can wait. I later regretted waiting when I had to bend my body to put pants and shoes on, with a painfully-full bladder.
As Maia built the fire with wood potentially sponsored by the WNBA, I began building the bed. We would end up sleeping in the truck for two nights this weekend, experimenting with bed setups both times. This night though, we had our usually foam padding across the platform, a comforter above those, each of us sleeping in one sleeping-bag inside another sleeping bag, with a comforter on top of that. The rear passenger windows, would have a blanket hanging against them on each side to help knock some of the cool air down. The seats up front, a thick comforter laying across it hung from the ceiling to create a small fort/room in the back to keep us warmer.Â
It would drop to 10 degrees with the windchill where we were parked, and although all the blankets and bags keep body warms, if you donât fall asleep before the temp in the truck drops, the cold air creeps into the cabin in a suspicious way, like a warm fart works its way around a dining room table when the in-laws are over. It takes its time, its in no rush to escape. Everything exposed, your face, your hands, and each breath of cold air you take burns your lungs a little. Itâs pretty awesome. I donât know how people do this in tents (no Iâm not going to use a pun here, but Iâm aware I could).
Having a fire while you setup is an amazing mood-booster, even if itâs too cold to enjoy like you normally would in the summer. The heat coming from that flame, is so important, and youâre using it for more than just entertainment or a place to melt marshmallows. We had enough wood to burn a fire before bed, and again in the morning as we got ready to head out. For breakfast, we had a dehydrated bag of Biscuits and Gravy with a hot chocolate. With 2,000mg of sodium, it would leave us thirsty for the rest of the day. But it was delicious!
On our way out, as soon as we started to head west of St. Ignace, the snow flurries began. The lower parts of the UP didnât have too much snow on the ground, but as we navigated further north on country roads, the the snow on started to pile up!
Many of the country roads up there, like many of the ORV routes, become snowmobile only. Not because of laws, but because of conditions. Narrow unplowed roads that still curve and dash between tall pines and cedars can become pretty tough to navigate through without getting stuck. And some of the trails, we learned, would become too narrow to even turn around in once you do go too far down the unbeaten path. But how will you ever really know how far your rig can make it if you donât try it? Try it!
We attempted to reach the coast of Lake Superior, at the mouth of the Two Hearted River where we planned to crack open a few ice-cold Bellâs Two-Hearted Ales, and call it a night. The further north we went, the worse it became. In fact the only other traffic we ran into were folks on snowmobiles. Without even a lifed Jeep in sight, we kept going, but only made it a few hundred feet passed an enormous sign that read END OF PLOWED ROAD. They werenât kidding. With the last little bit of light left in the day hitting the snow in a way that made it seem as though you were driving through a friendly cloud, when the trail went from road, to all snowmobile trail, I could feel the traction from the gas pedal lose grip on the land below, as we the Xterra began to dig its own grave.
Once we became slightly stuck, I took upon myself to set the truck into 4LO, and dig us even further down, in a sort of fighting fire with fire sort of way. The snow had gone above the lower control arms, and at that point thereâs not much you can do but dig yourself out. We did, thanks to our handy full-size shovel, it wasnât too much work, but once freed from that tragedy, I somehow managed to back us further off the trail, and down into the ditch, where the truck would sit for roughly an hour, with all four wheels spinning.
Luckily for us, some snowmobilers we had passed earlier returned to help push us out of the ditch! We turned around, and went back to the Lower Tahquamenon Falls for the night! This is a campground thatâs open all-year round, and even has electricity hookups. We were one of three people staying there for the night, and the only ones without an RV or snowmobile. For food, we just heated canned soup. Itâs easy to pack, cheap, and doesnât require much clean up. For drinks, the Two-hearted Ale we wanted to enjoy at the Two-hearted River went quick.
Sleeping in the truck that net wasnât as cold as the previous night. For this sleep, we unzipped both sleeping bags, and spread them flat across both our bodies. With this technique, weâd have shared body heat, and even if the tips of the blanket did become cold, the extra pair of legs was helpful in keeping those spots far and few between.
In the morning the truck was covered in a thick blanket of snow, and we used our last few logs of firewood for breakfast, and heat, while we packed the truck. Soon weâd be ready to backtrack a few miles to the Lower Tahquamenon Falls, that still had a surprising number of people visiting it, especially since most werenât traveling via snowmobile.
Once in Marquette we checked into a hotel because we needed a shower big-time. Can you smell that smell? It was us. You know youâve gone far too long without touching the ivory cellphone when you can smell your armpits without lifting your arms, and they smell a lot like wet feet. More beer was also inorder.
Itâs here we would celebrate the new year! Marquette, MI has a cute ball-drop downtown, where they play music from what I assume is a Now Thats What I Call Music 13 compact disc. Itâs all in fun, especially when youâve been drinking.Â
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
When I was in high school I dated a girl. It was something. I was too young to have a driverâs license, and too broke to afford a car. What I did have however, was a computer, and a stack of 25 CD-R discs, that I could burn stolen music onto, and stick into the CD player of her car, while I sat patiently in the passenger seat, nodding my head to music people would normally listen to while making babies. It was a time in my life where I was free of insurance payments, fuel costs, and none of my weekends were spent stranded on the side of the road somewhere. Even though it wasnât love, it was still bliss. Even though there wasnât much I could do, or many places I could go, there was still a sense of freedom. Many years later though, Iâve found myself in a similar situation; only I have all of those costs (and many others), but no car. And all of my CD-Rs are missing.
This truck is a fabulous example of what owning a lemon is all about. The sour taste left in my mouth after every part, sometimes happen as often as each week, is a battle not just of intelligence, but pride, common sense, and the fourth competitor, budget. The saying anything is possible with enough money certainly rings true when it comes to a vehicle that has been ill-maintained, and one thing to keep in mind during its consistent trips to the ER is that although they it might be possible to build a bridge from the United States to South Africa, you may find better use of your time and money by just ordering plane tickets.
When it died most recently, I was coming home from lunch after grabbing some Spicy Garlic boneless wings from Buffalo Wild Wings. I was merging, and the truck just died and wouldnât turn over. I began the diagnosis by testing spark on a few spark plugs. The amount of mud laying in on the cylinder head where the spark plugs thread into, made it impossible to get a socket onto the plug. I dug the mud away little by little with a screwdriver and then stuck a vacuum over the plug, repeating this process until I was confident once the plug was out, dirt wouldnât fall into the engine. Some did, but I just tell myself it was all pushed out during the exhaust stroke, and that helps me sleep at night.
Nighttime is the perfect time to test spark. Simply remove the plug, reattached it to the plug wire and stick it onto something in the engine bay that isnât going to rotate, but will act as a ground. Such as the upper intake manifold:
Donât have any friends? Iâm not surprised. Just set your camera up with a clever amount of duct tape, a hammer, and two flathead screwdrivers. This test after all is to confirm you are getting spark, not to measure the distance your phone can be tossed or dropped when left inside the engine bay.
Youâll want to see a nice white spark. This will rule out ignition as your issue. Next I tested the fuel pressure. Just by removing the line from the filter, after several cranks, barely any fuel came out. Typically when removing fuel components, unless the truck has sat for a night, the fuel will spray out at you and get into your eyes, blinding you, making you smell like a lawn mower, and it will quickly put out your cigarette.Â
I found some pretty interesting stuff in the gas tank. Some pine needles and lots of little pieces of rust and other metallic bits. Maybe this killed the pump. If so, maybe itâs also killed the injectors?
And so for the second time in 8 months, I replaced the fuel pump. The fuel pressure was now rivaled only by the fountains at the Bellagio, and I was sure; 110% sure, that once I turned the key, the truck would fire up. Of course it didnât.
After a few more checks, I decided that it was possible, even though I was getting good spark, that the distributor might be bad again. After all, it had been replaced the same day as the fuel pump, and it was still under warranty so why not?
After removing the cap, which is completely unnecessary when removing the distributor, I noticed a bolt loose. It was the bolt that holds the rotor, onto the distributor, so that way it can time the ignition properly for spark and such.Â
I tightened the rotor back down, and turned the key, it started! It ran! For about 5 minutes and then stalled, dead. I didnât understand why. I still donât, because TDLR; itâs still broken.
I began down the rabbit hole of figuring out what the fuck was really going on. I tested resistance at the MAF, as well as voltage, and then moved onto the TPS. I found that the truck would only run/idle, if both of these sensors were unplugged. If either of them were plugged in, it was crank, start, stall, and die immediately. Apply any throttle, and it will die regardless of what was unplugged. I then started testing voltage before the harnesses, to see if maybe something had gone crazy inside the plugs, but only found the same results. These tests became increasingly frustrating, as they all showed all the sensors and harnesses were good. The injectors too, all good. Nothing I did, even live scan and OBDII code readers, could tell me, anything was wrong.Â
And so I threw in the towel. I called AAA Insurance at 6pm on Sunday. And at 2AM, after many delays, and excuses as to why 10:30pm means 2AM in AAA language, I did what Iâve never done before; took my truck to a shop.
The tow truck driver sent me a photo to let me know he dropped it off safely. And itâs been there for about two weeks now. The techs at Nissan are stumped, and have called in some engineers for help. At this point, they are just throwing parts at it, just as frustrated as I was, without any results. They double checked my tests, and found that all the sensors were good. They did discover however that the cam timing was off by 30 degrees. At some point during this, my fuel pump died, the bolt fixing the rotor to the distributor fell out, and the timing belt skipped a few teeth. They asked if I offroad at all, because there was a lot of mud inside the timing belt cover, like someone had left it in a river overnight. Fair enough.
They sent me photos of the belt and tensioner, but nothing looked bad, just muddy.
In the meantime, Iâve been borrowing a Land Rover Discovery from work. That, as of Saturday, has also stopped working. So not only have I been borrowing a vehicle while my truck has been broken, now the vehicle Iâve been borrowing is broken. But what happens when Nissan calls me in three days and throws in their towel? Unfortunately for me, even the hours spent waving the towel, costs a lot of money when youâre at a dealership.
If I could do it all over again, I wouldâve gone to Wendyâs instead of Buffalo Wild Wings that day. Other than that, what a fucking adventure!
Sometimes shit breaks. Wait, that was the last post. Well, yeah sometimes shit breaks again. A short time after replacing the starter the fuel pump died on the Xterra. This was a part we had already replaced, with a brand new Bosch fuel pump, the âbest pump availableâ for the Xterra, and within less than 10 months, itâs dead.
In the meantime, thanks to my boss, Iâll be driving around in this 2004 Land Rover Discovery! Powered by a 4.6-liter V-8, along with having solid front and rear axles, this thing feels like a tank compared the Xterra. We recently put OldMan EMU shocks and springs on it, for extra lift, as well as a giant steering stabalizer. Look familiar? Itâs the same Discovery that was featured in Car and Driver Magazineâs âBattle of the Beatersâ story [here].
It has its issues though. Nicknamed the Timex, a few minutes after the engine is up to temp, it ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks. Maybe a lifter? Maybe a cylinder liner? Nobody knows yet, but we plan on opening it up later this year to find out.
Comparing it to our Xterra, itâs certainly a smoother ride, and gets going quicker than our 3.3-liter V-6. The fuel mileage seems to be just as bad, even with the smaller BF Goodrich KO2 tires, which on this truck are on 17âł wheels, and super fucking heavy. The extra headroom is a big plus, and the sections of glass roof in the back could give chance to some beautiful star gazing on clear nights.
The new fuel pump should arrive this week, and hopefully weâll be back on the road soon! Although the pump was turning on, the fuses were good, the relay was good, the fuel pressure wasnât. After removing the old pump and inspecting the tank, we found quite a bit of material in there. Pine needles, bits of metal and rust that we pulled with our magnet. This is bad news, and could kill another fuel pump in our future.Â
It would probably be smart to also replace the entire tank at this time, but itâs a part unavailable at RockAuto, and is some $274 from the Nissan dealership. It sucks but, weâll have to forgo that at this time.
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
Yeah sometimes shit breaks. Hopefully more often shit works, but the only things guaranteed to last the life of a vehicle are insurance payments and the registration fees. Okay, and TruckNuts. Hereâs a quick how-to that will work on any V-6 powered Nissan Xterra from 2000-2004.
On the way home from a weekend of winter camping, we stopped at a rest area, did our duties, and hopped back into the truck. When I turned the key, the truck made an awful noise and barely cranked over. We decided weâd do everything we could to keep the truck running until we could make it home. As long as the truck was already started and running, we wouldnât be stranded. Four hours later and a two hour trip the next day to the only parts store with a new starter in stock; here we were:
The first thing to do if youâre going to spend time under a truck is to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Take the wallet thatâs been digging into your butt cheek out of your pants, your phone can sit in the truck with whatever Johnny Cash album fits the mood, and roll down a window if you put the keys in the truck. A locksmith makes great company, but theyâre kind of an expensive guest.
The beauty about replacing a starter is that itâs often two bolts, and one nut, as well as a harness to unclip. But donât let that fool you, some can be tucked against firewalls, atop suspension crossmembers, or tucked under an intake manifold. Luckily for us 1st gen Xterra folks, just a few simple tools are needed.
As always, when dealing with electrical components, itâs important to remove the battery. Removing the battery does two things; it keeps you safe, and even if you arenât working around that area, you can stick your head in that space to get a better look at things or find something you dropped.
If youâve removed a starter before, skip this graphic. If itâs your first time, I think this will be of some help. The only bolts/nuts needed to remove this starter are colored ORANGE in the graphic below. There is also a harness that needs to be unplugged, which you can access easier from the front of the truck or from the wheel-well. The starter is on the passenger side of the engine, and is bolted to the transmissionâs bell-housing. Iâll highlight the few parts needed for removal in the photos. Torque specs from Nissanâs Factory Service Manual are also included:
The lower bolt holding the starter to the bell-housing is the easiest to get to. I say start here, that way if a know-it-all neighbor tries to interrupt you to show you his third fucking cooking blog, the combined noise of Cashâs Cocaine and the busy ratchet should be enough to deter him.Â
I used a 3/8âł-drive ratchet, 2âł wobble extension, and a 15mm shallow socket for both of these bolts. Your size might be different, as I found out after removing the bolts at some point they had been replaced, likely when they did the starter a few owners ago.
The next bolt you can start to loosen up can be a little tricky. Itâs under the passenger side exhaust manifold, next to the frame, and because of the giant catalytic converter, those other parts leave little room for a longer extension. With the magic of a 3/8âł-drive universal-joint, you can get to it with no problem. Here Iâm using a 3/8âł-drive ratchet, 10âł wobble extension, universal-joint, and a 15mm shallow socket.
If youâve gone this far, great work! But donât remove the bolts just yet. Youâll want the starter to remain fastened to the bellhousing, so that way you can remove the nut for the next step!
This is roughly how the starter is located on the truck if youâre facing the front of the truck. The nut highlighted in TEAL is the nut you want to remove. The other nut, stays on the starter.
I used two wrenches to loosen the nut, and my fingers to back it the rest of the way off the stud. It will have a rubber boot cover it, simply pull that back without tearing it, use your 12MM closed end to secure the nut, and a second wrench for leverage to bust it free.
Completely remove the nut, but save it in case the new starter didnât include it. Now itâs time to remove the harness that plugs the starter into the rest of the truck. Thereâs a few ways to do this, but hereâs how I tackled it. Inside the passenger-front wheel-well I removed 3 plastic pins holding the rubber cover in there to access the harness connector. It ziptied to another harness.
From here I carefully cut the ziptie without damaging either harnesses. Once youâve done that, you can press down on the tab of the connector, either with a thumb or a flathead screwdriver, and pull it free.
You can remove the first two bolts we loosened now, and drop the starter, as itâs out with the old and in with the new!
Because of its weight, on heavier parts like this sometimes itâs better to let gravity do all the work. If you spin the starter, it will fit between the CV axle and the lower control arm, and pull out from your truck. Below is a comparison of new vs old:
Installation is even easier, as everything just pops back into place. Slide the new starter up into the hole from which it came, hold it in place so the bolt holes match up and tighten those enough to hold the motor in place. Crawl further up, reattach the cable to that nut we removed earlier, add dielectric grease if you want to keep the moisture away from that connection and tighten the nut so itâs nice and firm. Donât forget to recover the nut with the rubber boot you removed earlier. Tighten all of the bolts down and reconnect the harness. My starter came with a ziptie, if not, use your own to help keep it in place. If it doesnât start, remember you took the battery out :D
Some other helpful tips about starters:
Like a fuel pump, you can hit these with a hammer and have someone attempt to start the truck while you hit it. This is how I diagnosed this fix. It wouldnât make any noise, until I hit the starter with a hammer; it still didnât start, but at least the issue was discovered at that point.
Like a brake caliper, starters have a core charge. So unless itâs covered in blood from a murder, you can turn it in no matter what. The core charge was for this starter was $30 at OâRielly, and the replacement came with a lifetime warranty. Take your reciept with your starter, to get back some of the cash you dropped at the parts counter
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
And so here we are on our week-long adventure! A few days in and weâve already come to the conclusion that this may be in fact should be what we do for a living. Weâve heard stories about people selling it all, living out of some psychedelic retired school bus or former canoe-rental van from the 1990s, signing up for a Planet Fitness membership, and exploring the world. But before you go rushing into work tomorrow morning to deliver that two-week notice and give Karen in management the first two letters of FUndraising, try going two days without showering. Wait, lets be more realistic, two nights without showering. You smell me?
So far this trip had been pretty dry. Some clouds here and there, but a beautiful week for a road trip; and absolutely no humidity! As we journeyed farther north through Wisconsin, the corn and cows gave way to even smaller towns, more lakes, and heavier canopy over trails. The roads in Wisconsin are better than the roads in Michigan, okay? You fucking hear that @OneToughNerd Michigan Gov. Rick Snyder? Wisconsinâs dirt roads, the hilly ones that get washed away throughout the seasons? Theyâre better than the paved roads in Michigan. For a few trails, we aired down, and were able to find party stores with free air nozzles out front. None of that âtoss in a few bucks for a few seconds of airâ bullshit you get in the city.
For lunches we restocked on lunch meat, and kept loading on the cheese. On top of an entire bag of cheese curds. With small stuff like yogurts, granola bars, fresh fruit, a short supply of pop to keep us from making ourselves even more thirsty, and a 7 gallon jug of water kept us going the whole trip! Sure weâd stop at some places and pick up a meal once every few days, or beer, but our food cost was tiny. If only our Nissanâs 3.3-liter V-6 had an appetite like us, this trip wouldâve been extra cheap! Also, the best part about eating less on a trip where restrooms are far and few between, is pooping less! Because when shit hits the fan, youâre clearing using the bathroom incorrectly.
The majority of what we loved the most about getting farther north into Wisconsin, also meant things would be a little more dangerous. With the population a little less dense, it meant more logging and more wildlife. That meant the stronger possibility of bears, are greatest worry, and the worry of an unstoppable logging truck around each corner. Really the biggest fear for us on a trip like this is either catastrophic drivetrain failure or horrific angry bear encounter.
During afternoon 5 we passed up nearby campgrounds in order to get closer to Da Yoop the following day, so rather than starting to setup camp around 6, we kept driving. With only GPS coverage, our drive seemed to be taking us even deeper into the woods, and thatâs when you start saying things to each other like, âwell, there might be something a little further up.â Of course thereâs never anything further up. âAlright one more mile.â We came to a clearing of an old campground thatâs no longer funded by the Department of Natural Resources, unfortunately someone had dumped a bag of trail mix at the entrance of the clearing. Either that, or the the group of vicious bears were full after tearing apart two hikers and decided to save the raisins and peanuts later for dessert.
We turned around, and opted for the charming spot called Dead Horse Run. The horses had long since died, and as the thunder rolled in as we started to unpack, we figured weâd be next.
As Maia boiled water for the dehydrated spaghetti, I scanned the area for any other signs of food left around; not to eat, but just to make sure we werenât inviting various animals over to try our porridge. We made sure our dinner was as garbage-free as possible, to help keep the chances of anything wondering in with a hungry-nose. With dehydrated meals, you can cook, eat, and store your food in the same bag.
As soon as we were settled in, the rain started. And soon after, it began falling in sheets. The lightning and thunder were spectacular and it was one of the most romantic nights of the trip! At about 2AM, I woke up and turned the dash cam on:
In the morning the rain was still on full blast, so we quickly packed up, tore open some granola bars, and left Dead Horse Run. We only got as far as around the next corner, when we discovered the only way out was blocked by two trees crossing the path. Maia grabbed the machete, and I took the hatchet, which took a long time to chop, but eventually cleared both trees. The path ahead crowded with bush and trees, and the road was flooded in most spots.Â
Earlier this year a few of the trails were washed away after severe flooding in the area had removed massive culverts and destroyed bridges. The photo below shows what we found during our route just behind a ROAD CLOSED sign.Â
ROAD CLOSED really just means, NOT FOR US; at least thatâs my theory. What ROAD CLOSED means is, thereâs something really cool down here for you to check out, unless you are driving a semi-truck, live nearby, or youâre a complete pussy. During this section of the trip, we came to a few ROAD CLOSED signs, and continued down all but this one. This road wasnât closed, so much as it was RIVER NOW OPEN.
While out on the trails we came across an enormous Stromatolite. It sounds like a cool band name if youâre 17, or 39 and on the wrong path, but Maia explains it [here], and why theyâre so important!
Although we didnât encounter and wildlife this trip, due to the rain some sections of trails were questionable. Itâs always best, if youâre feeling a little nervous, to allow the volunteer in rain boots to walk out and test trail depths. When youâre a one-truck parade, it only makes sense to be careful; especially if youâre driving around all the ROAD CLOSED signs.
The end of our WI route couldnât come soon enough though. We followed the Lake Superior Coast along Red Cliff and Bay Field. These towns are pretty touristy. If youâre wearing Champion socks and have any sort of top with the word Nautica on it, you might dig it. But for us, we had our compass pointed to the Porcupine Mountains, for our first night back in Michigan!
Hereâs some footage of use leaving Dead Horse Run:
[To head back to the introduction page click here]
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
And there it was, a huge hunk of rock laying in the middle of the woods. Even before we got to the sign to read the words, I yelled STOP! STOP! STROMATOLITES! At one point in, some 3000 million years ago, this area was covered in warm shallow sea water.Â
Back then, Earthâs atmosphere was oxygen deprived, and thatâs where stromatolites come in. Theyâre single cell bacteria, that through photosynthesis used sunlight to grow and release oxygen, just like what plants and trees do today.
Roughly 10,000 years ago the Earth began to warm. Glaciers began to melt and retreat to the north just like theyâre doing today, but at a much faster rate- for now. This boulder, which is made up of tons of stromatolites, was moved three miles from its source! Crazy!
I learned about these fossils in school and was fortunate enough to live near one 40-foot-tall along with other great examples of formations and outcrop. I donât fully understand were my excitement comes from when I see things like this. I was totally geeking out about it. This is a piece for Earthâs history and we were fortunate enough to stumble across it. Without the presence of this organism were where were we be now?
This was a stop during our weeklong journey on the Trans-Wisconsin Adventure Trail adventure up into Wisconsin and across Michiganâs upper peninsula.Â
[Click here to read more from the trip]
InAnXterra is a blog about two people in Michigan with a Nissan Xterra from Craigslist as they journey to the Dakotas!
Look. Itâs fantastic that SpaceX can fly an unmanned rocket into space, and then get it to come back to earth and land on a floating platform in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without exploding. Thatâs cool and all, but here is something some auto manufacturerâs spend thousands of dollars to promote on websites as if itâs some deep area in space where man has yet to point his telescope. Cleaning. Your. Truck.
The secret to everything is Simple Green. And if you use something else, thatâs fine, because where some of us wonât drink rum and coke, others mix cranberry and Sprite. The only people that will be close enough to tell the difference will either be trying to break into your car, or writing you a ticket for trying to get to work on time. Leftover water from boiling hot dogs, and one of the washcloths from the upstairs bathroom might work just as good, but who am I to judge?
Itâs simple. Start the engine, and spray it with Simple Green. if the engine is cool, this works better as the Simple Green wonât immediately burn off. Let it soak for a few minutes and then spray with just a regular garden hose. I sprayed everything on JET because the mud was sunk into the valleys of the heads where the spark plugs are and had covered the fuel injectors. I wouldnât use a high-pressure washer, or anything you could peel stain off a deck with, because radiator fins are pretty fragile and you donât want to be blasting too much water into gaskets and such.
If you canât leave your truck running for long in the situation where youâre rationing gasoline for the next big mudhole rescue mission, just stick a fan in the engine bay and plug it into an outlet.
Want to wash the rest of the truck? Go for it. Just remember in a few decades when all the drinkable water is all dried up, and somehow Trump is still president, oops I mean galactic overload, that years ago, you wasted that precious gold to help scrape Seagull shit from your fenders. For just your basic exterior wash, itâs completely fine to use a pressure washer, just donât use the laser nozzle. Youâll cut your fingers, and probably kill any pets you point it at âon accident.â Some pressure washers have a soap nozzle that you can use to soap, soak, then spray the truck clean with.
Donât use wax. I highly suggest, avoiding all waxes. Wax is fine if you want to take your truck to the mall and park it while you and the wife hike through the hills of JC Penney searching high and low for a bedset for the guest room. If you can brave the siren, or sample lady with her irresistible plastic cups filled with the latest in granola cookie warfare, you might make it out of the mall alive. I mean, it is the United States, and even movie theatres seem to be dangerous these days, but nobody wants to live in a world where trucks go through puddles without getting dirty. Thatâs on a level of imitation crab creepy.
