Blastedtrafflerapenshiggin...

[taranis]

What is it with motorcycles, me and oil changes?? :(" title="" border="0"/> For whatever reason I am a cursed man!

So the Nad needed new oil. By the way Castrol 10-40 dino oil sucks after just over 2K. Had a helluva time downshifting from 2nd to 1st at a stop. Had to let the clutch out a little to get it to go. Anyway, it was a clear indication it was time.

75 and sunny here in Texas today - perfect weather. So off I go to Autozone. Pick up a Bosch 3323 filter and a gallon of Rotella 5-40 full synthetic (Figured I'll give it a shot - can't hurt, right?)

Get home, get the bike up and drain the oil. No problem. Now the filter. I remember from the last oil change that I used the filter wrench to snug it down - not too tight, mind you - snug. I swear.

So, cringing at the memory of a thread on here about NOT using the filter wrench where I DID, I get out the filter wrench and try it. It just slipped off. Again and again I try with the filter wrench, but it won't budge.

"bugger-frappen-smiggle-droopen..."

So I decide on the old, tried-and-true, screwdriver through the filter trick. For those that might not know - jam a screwdriver all the way through the filter and twist. It's messy, completely destroys any use of the filter wrench again, and if you bugger the job, you're up the proverbial stinky creek. But it's worked for me numerous times, and I'm still....er... confident... at this point (not for long).

One problem: Good-ol' Bosch doesn't make the filter casing very strong. Because of that, I proceed to use the screwdriver shaft to very easily cut most of the top of the oil filter off.

Off.

O. F. F.

"grumble-rappin, struffel-snig-norf-nippin-doodle-bagger"

Now what the hell am I gonna do?

After pondering for a good while my misfortune, I figure on Plan C (as if there was a plan at this point) - knock the edge with a hammer and screwdriver until it breaks loose. So I use some channel locks to get as much of the filter off as I can - now I'm down to where you see the threads from the inside and there's just the bottom ring. I start chiseling away.

It's not budging.... Not. One. Bit.

Damn... :-/

Time to bring out the heavy equipment. Enter one variable-speed dremel. I'm gonna cut the sumbitch off!

And very carefully, I begin, from outside to inside, cutting the ring. The plan is to cut it all the way up to the threads, then make a second cut (kinda like a cutting a pie-piece out), then carefully rip the thing off.

I stop. I have absolutely no idea how far down I've cut. Heck, I could be cutting into the case..... not good. So I go to the other side, and cut the other side of the slice. (Why I kept going is anyone's guess) An examination of my handiwork after-the-fact reveals that there's no way to get the filter cut off because I need to cut down to the threads, ruining them in the process.

"Rumble-buggen-tiggle-sniff-nord-diggle grudelhoffen.." :(" title="" border="0"/>

Then I get an idea and go back to the old hammer-and-chisel, and start banging away on the edge of my cuts.

After several knocks, it moves.

1/567,393 of an inch.

But I saw it!

I think.

With a renewed sense of relief boiling up to the surface, I keep going, gaining lost confidence and relief all at the same time..it was almost euphoric. 15 minutes later, it's finally off.

:(" title="" border="0"/> DAMN!

After further inspection I did NOT slice into the crankcase (thank God), nor the rear brake line that runs right past there - another sigh of relief.

Now, while Ann's not much of a mechanic, she's a smart woman, and came out to watch the spectacle (banging metal on metal when you're supposed to be doing an oil change? Not good). Bless her heart, she could have said many things. But she chose silence.... well.. not really... I think she was shifting between giggling to hard to say anything and genuine concern for my mental state.

"Rumble-grumble-figger-naf-bluggen-dorfnunger..."

What lesson have I learned here today? Only put the new filter on hand-tight - hmm, can't remember where I read that. :-/ So I put the new filter on, hand tight this time, and took the poor girl out for a spin around the neighborhood. No leaks! Success! I proudly declare my victory to a less-than-impressed fiance.

I've been changing my own oil in my vehicles since I was a teenager. Never, ever have I used a filter wrench to tighten the new filter back on! What the bloddy heck was I thinking? Maybe old age is finally upon me. Probably time for an AARP subscription and Depends (extra-large, thank you). Yay me.

Next, the truck. I was lazy and had the oil changed at a local service shop the last time. With my luck today, they probably put the damn thing on with an air wrench... Fine. Let's do this...

So I get under there with an even larger oil filter destruction mechanism, and get a firm grip. Out of nowhere, I sneeze, and when I get my eyes uncrossed and look up, the filter has moved.

Really?

Really.

"Ohboyohboyoboy... light at the end of the tunnel..." I could be done with this and on to a cold one before the hour is up. Yee-hah!

So I unscrewed the thing with my hand and got a nice warm shower of oil. In my glee over having gotten the filter off in one piece, I'd forgotten the blasted pan!

"FRIGGLE-NIF*SPUTTER*-NORFEL-TICKEN-*SPUTTER*-ROTTEN-SNIGGLE-DOOFERPOOPIN!"

Fumble around for a towel, my sanity and the pan and finally get them all lined up. Bathed in warm oil, I head topside to try and stem the flow of the satanic liquid headed out of the garage. At this point, I'm convinced the EPA has an undercover agent just waiting, no doubt set upon me by a phone call from the counter guy at Autozone:

"Hey, it's that guy again.. Yep. An he's buying two gallons!"

All told, it took me 15 minutes to change the oil in the truck. Two !@#$%^& hours for the bike!

"You didn't use the filter wrench to put the new filter on the truck did you?"

I love her, I really do. But right about then I was looking for the duct-tape with nefarious and probably illegal thoughts boiling in my mind.

"No, hunny, I didn't."

*sigh*

Next time, maybe I'll throw some holy water around the garage, spill some chicken blood and maybe wear some garlic around my neck.

Fig Newton, anyone?