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SIGNS YOU NEED A NEW FUEL PUMP : SIGNS YOU NEED A


SIGNS YOU NEED A NEW FUEL PUMP : BATTERY OPERATED WATER PUMP.



Signs You Need A New Fuel Pump





signs you need a new fuel pump






    fuel pump
  • A fuel pump is a frequently (but not always) essential component on a car or other internal combustion engined device.

  • A high volume and pressure of fuel is required to run an EFI system. EFI fuel pumps are sized in liters (LPH) or gallons (GPH) and are capable of producing 60-90 pounds of pressure in the fuel line. A typical automotive fuel pump for a carburetor produces 5-7 pounds of pressure.

  • The fuel pump moves gas from the gas tank and delivers it to the fuel injection system or carburetor.





    signs
  • Something regarded as an indication or evidence of what is happening or going to happen

  • (sign) gestural: used of the language of the deaf

  • An object, quality, or event whose presence or occurrence indicates the probable presence or occurrence of something else

  • (sign) mark with one's signature; write one's name (on); "She signed the letter and sent it off"; "Please sign here"

  • (sign) a perceptible indication of something not immediately apparent (as a visible clue that something has happened); "he showed signs of strain"; "they welcomed the signs of spring"

  • Used to indicate that someone or something is not present where they should be or are expected to be











Burst




Burst





My life is filled with rage lately. I am consumed with hate. I hold everyone and everything in contempt yet I have no one and nothing to curse for what I feel. I've never been one to believe in a higher power. Does that make me an atheist, agnostic, or just another loner looking for something more in this dismal existence? It doesn't even matter anymore, it'll all be over soon. I've been driving for what seems like days, with no discernable destination, a true metaphor of my life; aimless, pointless, and completely directionless. I don't know when or where I'll decide to finally end it so I'll just keep driving until it feels.. correct. The red glow from my dash tells me I'll need to refuel again and I'm realizing I should have considered that before I entered this seemingly endless flatland of dirt and wheat fields. Incredibly, I see a small gas station coming up in the distance and immediately think, this is the type of mirage a man crawling through the desert would have, if he was carrying a gas can.

As I pull up to the pump I notice there's nobody inside the station, in fact, it looks as if it had been abandoned recently and quickly; lights on, doors open... hot dogs sweating as they spin on the ferris wheel of meat . I consider the possibility that the locals actually operate on the honor system and this is just standard procedure. Could there still be that level of trust and respect left on this planet? It's a ridiculous notion and I dismiss it quickly, but I need fuel whether anyone's here or not. Predictably, the pumps are not working and for all my years of learning and experience I cannot deduce how to make them operational. How fitting that now, of all times, I feel regret for having treated gas station employees like trained monkeys. I recline against my now near useless vehicle and ponder my options. I could just continue driving until my forward progress would be dictated by a defunct engine. I could just sit here and wait, hoping that someone eventually returns and brings with them the NASA launch codes needed to make these damned pumps functional or I could just accept the fact that this is the sign I've been waiting for. I had no final destination, but now, one seems to have been chosen for me. I had no reason to even be here at all, yet now, I can't even leave.

I light a cigarette and inhale deep. The smoke spinning and curling from my nose as I exhale and stare across the road at the horizon reaching field of wheat. I watch as the wind creates an invisible hand that strokes gently across the tops of each rustling stalk when it occurs to me that I've never actually seen a wheat field, in person, before. The endless undulations of the wheat remind me of the oceans back east that seem so very mundane to me now. I wonder if people first see the ocean and marvel at it, the way I am now, while staring at nothing more than a plot of earth full of weeds. I step out my cigarette as I walk across the smooth asphalt and descend onto the soft soil. My hands out to my sides, palms open allowing the raspy husks to brush against me as I walk deeper into the field. It appears as though a storm is brewing in the distance and the winds are beginning to stiffen here, the gusts causing me to sway slightly as if I were just another stalk rooted in the soil. There’s an unusually calming effect washing over me as I close my eyes and just listen. The winds roaring low around me, the flapping of my clothes as they plaster against my body, and the chatter of the wheat as the husks rattle defiantly against the coming deluge. Most noticeable is the understated silence that comes and goes as the winds stop momentarily, deceiving me into thinking I’m frozen in time for those brief seconds. I inhale a deep cleansing breath and realize; it feels.. correct. I’m more at peace with myself now, in these past few minutes, than I have been my entire life, and I’m ready.

A rusted hulking mass of steel rests in the distance further into the field. As I move towards it, I consider the fact that while it makes no sense for this locomotive to be here, no visible tracks anywhere in the vicinity and no logical reason for putting it here purposefully, it looks absolutely normal as if it were just meant to be. I climb up the side, struggling to get to the top as chips of paint give way under my intrusive touch. I can feel the dull metal still holding the warmth of the day’s sun even as the winds bring a chill to evening air. I stand, surveying my surroundings, not impressed with its beauty but instead by its serenity. I reach to my back and retrieve the oiled steel object that’s been lodged so uncomfortably in my spine. A quick movement of the slide and the sharp clack as the bullet slides into its loaded position. I place the barrel against my temple realizing there’s nothing to say, no epiphanies to be had, I said my goodbyes days ago and no one listened. Nothing left but to finger the











A Rose Between Two Thorns!




A Rose Between Two Thorns!





Well where do we start with what was a cracking day!

The morning started early, as me, Mark and Jeff met outside my house at 4am. A quick trip to the yard, for a 4.30 departure with James VR (EWS 739), to pick up the rest of our little entourage at Bristol Parkway (8 people in total!).

We managed to get away from Parkway for 05.30 and made the long slog up the M5/M6 with several stops at service stations to check the Oil & Water, finally arriving at Reliance Bus Works in Newcastle-Under-Lyme. Just in time for the Breakfast order to be taken by the Boss, who believe it or not is not Mr H, but his daughter Laura, the brains and organisation behind RBW ;-).

I finally got my first taste of “Staffordshire Oat Cakes”, and I must say I was really impressed and may now have to try and find some of these treats. Everyone indulged themselves with an Oat Cake or three, and we all ate Al Fresco on top of the Deltabus (Fellow Flickrite), Open Top POPS VR GBF78N.

Then it was “Tiger Time”, and Martyn very kindly attached my new front “Leyland” trims and Leyland scrolls on the front and rear. Mark Amis and Stuart Curwen (SWPG Members) took off the old legals, school signs and other vinyl’s attached to glass. It was then time to put on the National Express Destination, shake lots of hands and say our goodbye’s before the long but satisfying ride home.

To say that I was like a “Cat with the Cream” (Sorry for the Pun), would be an understatement. FRU is very sluggish off the mark, and does need a lot of work on the Interior, Exterior and probably needs a new or recon fuel pump and gearbox, but when you wind her she drives like the wind, although being a Leyland Advanced Notice is required for Braking (LOL).

I would like to say thanks to the following people;

Martyn & Laura Hearson (RBW) (Renown to Flickrites!), All members of the SWPG who attended the day (Glenn, Stuart, Roger, James, Jeff Day – Flickrite, Mark Amis – Flickrite, and Jevon!). Thanks also go to Paul Pearson (Deltabus – Flickrite), The Living Legend and thoroughly decent bloke, Paul (Semmytrailer – Flickrite), all of the above helped make the day, and enjoyed all of your company.

Also thanks to Dave (Flickrite – VSS1X), for his company this evening in the pub (We all had a great carvery – SWPG and Dave)!

Lots of First Cymru and First Coaches vehicles, are seen on Rail Replacement at Bristol Parkway, with my lovely Tiger standing out like a sore thumb!










signs you need a new fuel pump







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Post je objavljen 04.11.2011. u 04:42 sati.