It started off as a fine fall day, the leaves all colors of fire, except for the pine. The garage kept clean and swept, except for the puddle where the Monte's radiator had wept.

She arrived in a smoky haze, I thought "I hope this old girl doesn't start a blaze, it looks like it's done a trip to a far off moon you'd only see on a star gaze" The smell of burning oil and the sight of the rust had my stomach turning, but I knew I couldn't, wouldn't bust.

Next a test drive to determine the repairs that would help this old Jeep thrive. After a quick jaunt we found the flawed point, at each end of the front axle, a busted u-joint.

Into the air the Jeep was hoisted, the rear wheels had chocks, though due to the ride height we feared the need to use a just few paver blocks.

Ten lugs spun off the mud tires to follow, once we attacked the axle nut our feelings soon turned hollow.

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The giant torque wrench that always works in a cinch ran into the quite a pinch. Though I did strain, I realized these nuts would be a pain, so into the Fusion to the local parts store we went in the rain.

The man behind the counter said I'd need a pipe, as the nut was being a such a gripe, a breaker bar alone wouldn't git-er done right. So off to Home Depot, down past the carpet squares we found the fair priced pipe to tackle the job at hand.

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The breaker bar in place, a few hammer strikes to help break loose the nut so obtuse, then on with the pipe to show this nut all the might a man and a lever can muster. Next a snap and a thud, the breaker bar broke and I cursing this dud.

Next we sought power, while the clouds did shower on our journey to the Harbor of Freight. $49.99 gets you a tool oh so fine, if you don't own an electric impact wrench you're missing out on quite a good time. Back to the garage in a flash, the impact wrench did gnash, let me tell you the victorious tool was well worth the cash.

Soon the evening was upon us and the axles stubs were still held captive by rusty hubs. After a few whacks of the hammer I began to stammer, at this point I mused that the knuckle and hub had fused.

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Pry and pry with a chisel did I try to separate the two faces rusted into one. Travis the King of Spun Bearings was clearly KO'd in the ring by the very thing he claimed rule of. The internet was searched, the screen read it was possible to change the u-joints, even if the hub units remained hostile, but the job is much easier if on your work bench the half shafts are perched.

After much thought and examination of the bearing quite wrought, we decided to go for the press, we thought the u-joints would egress, but in the end all we did was make a big fat mess.

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Comparing the old to the new, we discovered that the parts jockey at O'Reilly blew. So away in the Fusion Yamahog did fly to get the right parts on the second try. An hour later with Yamahog was still gone with the Fusion and I began to sink into confusion.

Turns out Yamahog gave the Fusion a bit too much BRAAAP and fell into a bogus speed trap because the Farmington Hills PD is a whole bunch of crap. Away with a ticket and right parts, a feeling of dread was growing in our hearts.

We began to tire and emotions ran higher, simply running out of things to try. Our arms grew heavy. Lord I wished I was working on a Chevy! Simply because this hub still would not budge no matter what we did we simply couldn't give the hub the right nudge. Even Hellfire applied by a torch wasn't enough to scorch the bearing into submission.

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Suddenly a Crazy Russian appears, he confirmed our worst fears there would be no victory beers as this Jeep wasn't getting fixed tonight. Taking turns, each working a quick shift seemed like gift as the clock hit midnight. After stopping for a quick snack, we were soon back on the attack to get this heap of Jeep at least back to par so Yamahog could travel on Wednesday afar.

I have to confess I felt defeated, because this battle was so heated but we eventually conceded that a real mechanic was needed. The decision was made to punt this runt, so it was time to try a bit of a stunt. We pressed the new cups on the old spiders, risky I know, but bold action was needed so Yamahog wasn't left out in the cold.

We buttoned up our work up, torqueing each nut; we reflected on our gaffe, but the Jeep, in the end she had the last laugh. A failure to start, the battery dead, at this point I wanted to shoot myself in the head! Bust out the charger let it set for an hour, Will it start? Roger! At this time it was 1am, well past bedtime for this old codger.