Can't a guy get a BRAKE?

Originally Posted Wednesday, August 03, 2005

I decided to save a little money this weekend and install a new set of front brakes on my car. Word of warning, if your car exceeds the 150 thousand mile mark, replacing brakes could lead to other repairs, or as so it did in my case anyway. After replacing the brakes on my car I took it for a test drive. Vroom, down the street I went, screw the slow test, we went right for the 50 miles an hour towards a stop sign, if I fudged up the brakes we’ll hit a brick wall on the other side of the street. With a firm stomp from my foot on the brake pedal my car came to an immediate halt. “Cool” I thought to myself, everything is in working order. Nothing else went wrong and I saved a ton of money by doing it myself.

The next morning I am greeted with the warm sunshine cascading through my bedroom window. Anxious to test out my new brakes on the open road, I waste no time in getting ready for work and busying myself out the door. After a few short miles I am on my way down the interstate……and that’s when things went bad.

It started out as a slight squealing sound.

“That’s odd” I said out loud. Deep down in my gut I started to feel a sinking feeling, much like the one you get after swallowing something from the refrigerator that you realize has expired 4 days prior. Trying to ignore the obvious I begin to look around the car for anything that might be creating the noise other then what sounds to be a failing brake system.

I turn the radio down…….nope that doesn’t help, its still there, and turning the radio down has only proven more so that the sound I am hearing is emitting from outside the car right around the left front tire.
Immediately your mind starts to race through every step you undertook in the procedure leading up to this nasty sound.

“Did I tighten the lug nuts? Did I put the right brake on the right side? Was that little metal clip that broke off while banging on it with a hammer to get it into place that important? Why did I have more bolts when I finished then when I started.”
I now begin to realize that I could possibly be driving my coffin to my own grave site. Trying to relax I decide since the noise isn’t getting louder I might be ok and the piston on the caliper just needs to adjust itself a little more. I turn the radio back on to try and relax myself.

“I’m on the highway to hell……..I’m on the highway to hell” The sounds of AC/DC’s Highway To Hell come screaming through my speakers. My fingers stretch out and begin pushing the preset buttons trying to find something a little more appropriate to lighten the mood and ease the tension.

“I’m on top of the world looking down on creation and the only explanation I can find……” ah the soothing melodies of Karen Carpenter, its so relaxing I think I’m going to puke. Suddenly without warning my head is thrown forward towards the windshield, my seat belt catching my upper torso and thrusting my body back like slingshot. My heart is racing; confused at what just happened I look around to see if I struck something. Nope can’t see anything, the car now slowing at an alarming rate as if I dropped anchor off my port bow. It only takes a few moments to realize something has gone seriously wrong with my newfound brake installation. After a few miles of the most horrific screams coming from the front drivers side wheel, and my car jerking ferociously from time to time as the caliper continues to fail I begin to wonder if I should have taken my car into the shop to get the brakes done. “Nonsense” I shout out loud to myself as if that little voice of reason inside my head were listening to me. “I’ve changed my own brakes before, and I have even done it on this very same car with no problems. Obviously it must be the brakes at fault.” I decide to push forward knowing that I am only a few miles away from my first stop, the bank. This will give me an opportunity to see if I can see any damage to the car. Besides “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere…..it’s up to you New York…….” Ok, time to turn the radio back to a rock station before I go insane with show tunes. I arrive at the bank, heads turning, eyes wincing, as people throw their hands over their ears at the obvious sounds of pigs being slaughtered comes from my front tire.

Great timing, the bank hasn’t opened yet giving me the time I need to inspect the front tire. I step out looking around as if I have no idea what people are staring at. Hmmmm, I wonder how hot the wheel is from the brake being stuck for the last 10 miles. A hissing sound and a sharp pain emits from the tip of my finger as I test my last theory.

Yep it’s hot all right.

“Too late to turn back now” I think to myself. All I can do is hope the wheel cools off enough while I am in the bank for me to make it to work.

Mental note, explaining to officer you needed to pee on your tire to cool it off might result in a breathalyzer.