It was a rainy, gray morning, which was nice to catch up on a few things – emails, a little news, the blog, etc. Since the Apostle Islands Cruise was cancelled yesterday due to high winds, we had scheduled for today. However, it wasn’t looking so good for today either, so we rescheduled for Sunday.
We kept looking at our schedule. we might not even see this national park at this rate. We are supposed to leave on Wednesday for St. Croix National Scenic River. We considered cancelling that to give us more time here.
After lunch, we decided on two things we could do in the rain – the Maritime Museum and driving “The Fruit Loop.” Parking in Bayfield is a trick, but we are getting the hang of it. In front of the museum a man was building a small boat. A volunteer, he was very polite in telling us what he was doing, and he loves working with wood. It was like a boat museum in Newfoundland where volunteers built a boat every year, then auctioning it to raise money for the museum. The Bayfield volunteer said they haven’t caught onto that yet.
It was very cool inside, with displays of big and small ships and fishing boats. There was a display of the shipwrecks around Apostle Islands. I was fascinated by the display of sailboat rigging. Around the corner Martha worked on a hands-on display of knot tying. We might have stayed there for an hour, but others wanted to try it.
There were engine displays, both big and small. The one that intrigued me was an old Indian recording of how he built birchbark canoes. A real birchbark canoe was standing against the wall. I would like to listen to that again. He looked for a special birch tree and told how he stripped the bark, sealing the seams with pine pitch. The frame was made from a special northern white cedar. He said he only cut three of them down in his life.
On our way out, Martha put $20 in the contribution box. The man working the front thanked us with a smile and said, “Ring the bell.” After looking around, I pulled the string beside the door, ringing the bell. Outside was a big bell from a boat, so I gave that a ring too.
We walked over to the fish store. Most things had been sold because the weather had limited fishing. They did have some whitefish liver, which we had seen on the menu at Manypenny Bistro. The young lady behind the counter said she had never had it, but reports are that it is similar to chicken livers. “It’s a thing here.”
This area is big for fruit farms, and there is a drive that takes you past some of the farms that have shops, stores or roadside stands. Apples are big, but also blueberries, raspberries, grapes and more. It was raining pretty hard when we stopped at the first one, Apple Hill Orchards.
I thought he had an Aussie accent, but he was from England. A soccer player, he had traveled to many places, but he always liked this area the best, so he and his wife started this orchard. We bought a bag of Courtland apples on his recommendation, a candy apple and an apple crisp. He was a nice chap, and we enjoyed talking to him. We were going to the farmer’s market tomorrow, so there was no sense in stopping by more farms.
Missing one of our turns, we ended up driving by a lot of the farms, wondering what was being grown. We saw 24 turkeys on our 30-minute drive, plus a beautiful red fox dashing full speed across the road. Later I looked up what turkeys eat, since they seem to proliferate here. Acorns are a staple of a lot of wildlife, but turkeys are omnivores. They eat insects for protein, acorns, and they love fruit. They will eat apples on the ground and berries from bushes, but also clover, grass and other soft greens. No wonder they do well here.
We stopped at a tiny log house with a sign. We have passed it a number of times, but had other things to do. Interesting story.
Back at camp, we drove around a bit and found the closed visitor’s center had WIFI, but it is only strong at the building. I took my computer over and loaded pictures for the blog, We can get one bar of cell service in the Airstream, but our cell booster gives us one more. That’s enough to get messages and emails, but not enough to upload pictures, and surely not videos. Moving my phone around the trailer, I get one bar sitting at the table, two bars in the cabinet above the refrigerator and three bars up against the booster. I’ll try to find a way to hang the phone there.
Martha made a fine dinner of pork chops and mushrooms from the farmer’s market, cooked in butter with peas – very good.
Walkie told us to return in the morning so he could install a new air filter and clean the sensors. He called in an order for the filter yesterday, saying it would be delivered about 9:00. We arrived at 9:45. I wondered how he could get reliable deliveries in his remote location on Fire Tower Road.
It was a little cooler this morning – about 60 degrees. His garage door was closed, so I walked around to the side door admiring an old Ford truck parked beside it. The shop was warm and soft music was playing. Two trucks were parked inside and Walkie slid out from under the one on the right. I told him to finish what he was doing, but he said, “I got the filter. Let’s go put it in.”
I asked why he doesn’t have a lift or two. “I can’t because the floor is heated. Besides I like working on the floor. Keeps me limber.” He grabbed the filter and an old, wire milk grate to which he had neatly attached a board. He used that as his step stool.
Outside I popped the hood. He went to work loosening the cover as he explained what he was doing. “Big engine like this needs air, a lot of air. Restrict the air and she won’t burn right. We’ll clean the sensors. They can get dirty too.” I asked if we could just take all this stuff off. “Sure, we do it all the time. The military trucks don’t have it. Many state and police trucks don’t have it. Imagine a military truck in combat and it suddenly gets throttled back like yours because a sensor was dusty.”
He replaced the filter and tore off the label from the box and handed it to me. “You should do this regularly.” He went inside to get a can of spray sensor cleaner. I should have videoed the whole thing. He was talking while he removed three or four sensors and sprayed them all. “These things get dust and dirt in them and should be cleaned every time you change the filter.” I took the old filter and the box inside and put them in the trash in the back of the shop. There were cans of Stella Artois in the bottom.
I had wondered if changing a air filter could solve my problem, but Walkie was changing my mind. He said, “These things add up. Could be several things that lead to the overall problem. We’ll test it and see if the codes come back. If not, we’ll have to run the exhaust clean program. I hate to do it, because it runs the engine so hard.”
He hooks up his computer to the truck and starts it. “Using a computer to talk to the truck’s computer! Crazy isn’t it?” He deleted the codes. Although I was standing right next to him, I couldn’t read the screen, but the computer reads the codes and gives suggestions for treatment. Every time he deleted them, the codes came back.
Throttling back power.
Check engine light.
Door open.
Hood up.
“Well we are going to have to do a regen. If that doesn’t solve it, you will have to take it to a dealer.” “OK, I said. As he started it, I told him they did that after they installed the catalytic converter. “Oh,” he said. The regeneration runs the engine, building to 2600 rpm’s. He went around back to check the exhaust. “Sometimes smoke will come pouring out.”
This was about a 20-minute procedure as Walkie thumbed through the computer looking for readings for exhaust carbon content, but couldn’t find it. “GMC won’t give people like me the software. I can use generic software, but it doesn’t tell me everything. Ford gives us all the software. Dodge doesn’t give us the software either. I like Ford. They have their problems too, but at least I have access to all the tools.”
As we sat waiting, I asked him about the Ford truck next to the door. Sometimes a truck passes the beaten-up look and goes into a level of respect just because you know it has endured a lot. “That’s my truck,” he said. “It’s an ’03. It has 400,000 miles on it. That rust is what all the salt does to it. I drive it every day – use it for plowing snow too.” It too was a diesel.
I asked how he learned all this stuff. So many mechanics come from dealers. “My dad was a mechanic, had a shop. I learned from him and many of the old timers.” He’s a very neat mechanic. His yard is clean and neat. The shop is clean. His work on the bench and under the hoods is neat and clean.
Finally the regen was complete, and he cleared all the codes. “Take it for a drive and see if they come back. He shoved the computer on the dash and went in the shop. I hesitated backing up, wondering if he was coming with me. I started to back out when he came out of the shop and got into the passenger seat.
“Let’s go down through Bayfield and back up the other side. There’s a steep hill over there.” Apple orchards were on both sides of the road. “You don’t want to be here during the Apple Harvest Festival. Way too many people.” As we passed by the little town, he said, “Look at all the people. Wonder what’s going on.” We went up the steep hill with ease, no engine light, no throttling back. I told him we had seen 9 turkeys this morning. “We have lots of turkeys, and more every year.”
“Turn at the trash can. That’s my road.” I was grinning as we pulled up to the shop, giving him a fist bump. “Well, it could come back, but you’ll be here for a few days. Just come back if the problem continues.” I asked how much I could pay him. “I’ll just charge one hour – $150,” he said. “Well, that’s not enough,” I replied. “That’s enough.”
It was now 11:30 or so. That’s four and a half hours including yesterday, not to mention letting me watch while he was teaching like a college professor! I had given Martha all the cash I had. She had been sitting comfortable in the back of the shop the whole time. She said it was in the truck. so I went out to get $300, adding another $40 from my wallet. I grabbed the two six-packs of Stella Artois and went back in.
I didn’t see Walkie, but Martha said he went out back to open the dumpster. He has had a bear getting into it, so he put a bar across it. I gave him the cash and Stella, thanking him profusely. Looking at the Stella, he said, “Maybe I’ll start on it now.” I waived and smiled as we left. I felt like I was walking away from a good friend.
We drove into Bayfield, thinking we could make the 12:00 cruise, but the wind was so bad, they were cancelling. Very nice people in there. I especially liked the guy for his understated humor. I asked if Captain Gilligan was going out tomorrow. That was not the captain’s name, just what he called that cruise because it was an old boat, taking twice the time to do the cruise. I asked him for a lunch recommendation. Never looking up from the computer work he was doing, he said Manypenny Bistro, “because they have a variety of things.”
Oddly, we had parked right beside it. After much deliberation, we ordered a 10” pizza, called “The Works”, a beer and coffee. Martha asked the young waiter if it would be enough. “Oh yes.” Perhaps he thought it was just for Martha. Best pizza I have ever had….. well, there was a deep dish pizza in Chicago years ago. It had pepperoni, Italian sausage, onion, mushrooms, green olives and mozzarella. Then he put down a nicely-organized box of condiments. Martha put red pepper on hers, while I used parmesan.
Across the street, we looked around a cute little shop, buying a candle, a card and chewing gum.
Raven has stolen someone’s keys
We were relieved to be through with this truck problem. Of course it could come back, but I doubt it. Really, I got a little choked up thinking about it. What a special guy he was! How did we stumble onto him? Martha said, “Well we might as well go get the oil changed.” Walkie had recommended Quick Lube or Walmart. He couldn’t do it because he didn’t have a lift. “Also stop at Ron’s Auto Repair, but he’s busy.
We came to Ron’s first. There was a graveyard of ancient vehicles scattered around a yard that was very cool. Going up one more driveway, we came to the shop. There was a whole lineup of all sorts of vehicles. I knew we had no chance. As we walked toward the garage, Ron met us. “Can I help you?” I asked if he could do an oil change, and he said, “Come on in and let’s see.”
A man sat in a line of chairs, and a lady in a separate room looked up. I greeted both as Ron thumbed through his scheduling book, sighing. “Can you come on the 30th?” We said we would only be here three days. He thumbed and sighed some more. We said we understand, and did he have a suggestion, telling him Walkie had sent us here along with his other suggestions. He smiled at the name and said to try “Superior” first.
He walked us back out. I stared at a nice, little sailboat beside the shop. “A guy dropped that here, leaving a note to fix the brakes on the trailer. Didn’t matter when we got to it. A lady left that golf cart. She’s an attorney. I told her we don’t work on golf carts, but she said ‘you will mine.’”
In Ashland we drove main street, looking for Superior Auto, but only found it on the second pass. Mike greeted us, asking how he could help. I asked if they could do an oil change on this diesel truck. He looked quite perplexed, finally saying, “Well I won’t be able to put it on the lift with that kayak on top.” I told him that was no problem, we can take it off. “OK, pull it around back.” I drove around back. Before I could get out of the truck a young man was on the back loosening the straps. I took the other one off and he picked up the kayak and handed it to me. Martha and I both grabbed it and set it down. He hopped down and set the ties on the ground.
Another man, Greg, came out to drive onto the lift. I said Hi Greg and said that’s why he’s such a handsome guy. “Liar,” he smiled. Before I knew it, the truck was on the rack, so we walked through the 3-bay shop to the office. “What kind of oil have they been putting in,” he asked. “I don’t know.” I asked him to put the best stuff in. He suggested a synthetic that would last 10,000 miles, and I agreed. Staring at windshield wipers on the wall, I asked him to put those on. He grabbed two and took them to his workers.
Several people came in for work or to schedule work. Everyone seemed to know Mike, and he knew them. Several packages came, a receipt exchanged, and they were gone. Mike likes to fish, putting in on several bays. He said it was quiet, peaceful out there on the water, cruising between the islands. He catches lake trout, brown trout and salmon, though not many salmon, and they’re not too bit, maybe 30”! The brown trout can be 30” or more and taste as good as the small ones. He also catches large brook trout, “Coasters, you know.”
In short order they were done. I thanked Mike very much, paid the bill and walked through the shop. The kid had already put the kayak on the rack. We talked as I tightened the back strap. He is a duck hunter. The mostly shoot wood ducks and geese. “We have a lot of geese….and swans. Can’t shoot the swans though.” I turned around and he had gone back to work.
My goodness, I thought as we drove back in a truck that was running great and oil that was good for 10,000 miles. My GMC dealer has me back every 5,000 miles. We passed a national wildlife preserve and stopped at a historic marker about Madeline Island and how it was named. We took a “wrong turn”, driving “The Fruit Loop,” with apple orchards, blueberry farms, cherry farms and wineries, seeing another 9 turkeys. What a great day it was!
Leaving our happy spot in Spirit Lake Marine and RV Park, we headed for Little Sand Bay in Russell, WI. to see Apostle Islands National Park. We have allotted a week to explore 21 islands in Lake Superior. I was excited for a pretty drive with rest areas right beside Lake Superior.
I got an error message on the truck: Engine power throttling back. I have had nothing but trouble since Colonial Auto replaced the catalytic converter, charging me $4,500. Martha advised me to buy a new truck, but I thought this one would go the distance. That is one of the reasons I bought a diesel. I thought it would last longer under the load of pulling the trailer. I have 152,000 miles on it, but it is not uncommon for these to go 500,000 or more. I don’t need that many, maybe another 100,000.
We pulled over at one of those beautiful rest areas. I put in more DEF and checked the oil level, which was dirty, but OK. The coolant tank was full, but I put a little water in it. We limped on, sometimes going 55mph, but on some big hills, we got down to 8. With emergency flashers on, some cars passed us, but we were fortunate traffic wasn’t busy.
We limped into the campground, set up, had lunch and Martha called the nice lady who had booked us into the campground, but she got a recording. She was hoping to get a recommendation for diesel repair. Then she went to work, making a list of garages and calling one, Ron’s Auto Repair, but he was retired. he referred us to Dietrich. We had minimal cell reception, so we decided to go to Dietrich Auto Repair. Typical of areas like this, he had a garage next to his house, and the yard was full of cars and trucks. He is a very nice guy, whose house had just burned, so he and his son were living in a big trailer. Listening to our problem, he directed us to “Walkie’s up on Fire Road.”
At first we tried to call him, but then decided to just drive up there. Without GPS, we would have never found it. It was a great big metal building surrounded by woods on Fire Tower Road. A friendly springer spaniel greeted us. Walkie was pushing a dead pickup into the garage with a unique tread machine with a blade on the back and a fork on the front.
Once the truck was in the shop, he smoothed the tracks with the blade, then shut it off. “How can I help you?” he asked. He listened to our story, then listed some things that could cause the problem. “Let me just take a look.”
He opened the hood and started removing the cover for the air filter. “It’s a good engine, but then GMC puts all this stuff on it – sensors and computerized stuff. It would be better without it.” Even removing the air filter was a bit complicated. He said, “Look at this little filter for that big engine. A lot of times the engine just isn’t getting enough air. I’ll order a new one and have it by 9:00 in the morning. Then we will clean this connection in front of the filter that often gets dirty. If that doesn’t do it, we will run a regen. I hate doing that because it really runs the engine hard.” he blew out the old filter and replaced it. I told him that sounded good, and we will return tomorrow at 9:30.
Oxygen sensor next to the screwdriver
There is nothing quite like watching a mechanic work on your truck. You learn how it works, where things are and you get to hear what he is thinking. Dealers seldom let you do that, saying it’s a liability issue. Or maybe they don’t want you to learn how to do things. His cousin, Walter looked on.
We drove a short distance to Bayfield to check out the cruise schedule. A nice young man told us what the schedules are and the likelihood of getting aboard on the spur of the moment. It was pretty good really, as the season is waning. The visitor’s center at the campground is closed for the season.
The little town was bustling. It reminded me of Bar Harbor 30 years ago. It was a beautiful day. People were sitting outside at restaurants and benches. Flower boxes adorned windows, and people were getting off the ferry smiling. I asked two bikers if they had a good time. The young man smiled broadly and said it was great. “Which island,” I asked. “Madeline,” he replied.
Ferry coming into Bayfield
Martha had talked to Walkie’s daughter-in-law while Walkie and I were under the hood. She wanted to get him something as a thanks for his help. She said to get him some Stella Artois, so we went into a little grocery and got some.
Back at camp, our next door camp host and her husband came over. She said the campground booking lady had called her to check on us concerning our truck problem. Brook and John were their names. She told us there are GMC dealers in Ashland and Duluth “when you get through with your guy.”
They had the similar problem with a catalytic converter. Someone put the wrong one in, so they went to a different dealer to get it replaced, all under warranty. Then she asked if I had disconnected the battery after the treatment. Never heard that one, but rebooting is often the first thing I try with any problem. Then she pointed out the soot around my water heater. “Could be bugs in there.” Stink bugs, I thought, but I had not noticed how black it was all around the heater.
I thought about all those things as I went to sleep and when I woke up in the middle of the night.
