Riddle: \’ri-dl\ – a mystifying, misleading, or puzzling question posed as a problem to be solved or guessed. (Merriam-Webster’s Online dictionary)
You can always tell how the week’s going by the topics at coffee break. Today it was riddles.
“Riddle me this, Tooner-man,” said Beanie. “What is greater than God, more evil than the devil; poor people have it, and rich people need it?”
“That’s too easy,” scoffed Tooner. “The answer is ‘nothing’.”
Basil spread a second layer of cream cheese on his bagel. “I’ve got a good one for you, Beanie. ‘Three eyes have I, all in a row; when the red one opens, all freeze.’”
“Sheesh,” muttered Tooner. “That sounds like my mother-in-law!”
I massaged my forehead to ease the growing migraine. “C’mon, guys; stick to the high road. The proper answer is a traffic light.”
Thankfully, Quigley appeared in the doorway. “I got Hank from Hampton Import Auto on the line. They’ve got a small pickup giving ‘em troubles. Have we got time for a look?”
“Absolutely!” I grabbed the portable phone out of Quigley’s hand and listened while Hank described the situation. When he was done, I hung up and turned to the crew.
“Okay, listen up. I’m a 2000 Ford Ranger with a 3.0L engine and automatic transmission. My ABS light is on, the transmission won’t shift, and my speedometer doesn’t work. What’s wrong with me?”
Tooner sniffed. “Got any codes?”
“Nothing that comes up on their scanner.”
“Hey, pick me! Pick me!” Beanie jumped up and down excitedly. “Uh, no codes – that means…nothing’s wrong!”
Basil heaved a great sigh and shook his head. “Bean, Bean, Bean…you have so much to learn.”
A few minutes later, Hank arrived with his balky truck. “I don’t know what to think, Slim,” he said dejectedly. “We usually only do imports, but these Rangers are so much like a Mazda that we thought we’d take a stab at it.”
Hank explained that because the ABS light was on, they took a wild guess and replaced the ABS sensor in the rear differential. “That seemed to help for a bit,” said Hank. “But then the trouble came back.”
“What’d you do next?” I asked.
“Well, we looked it up on Identifix and discovered a common problem. Water gets into the left rear floor area, causing trouble with the wiring loom connector.” Hank shrugged his shoulders. “We dried everything up and sealed it with some grease, but that only worked for a week.”
He handed me the keys as his ride showed up. Climbing in, he said, “My next guess was gonna be the ABS module, but without any trouble codes, I’m feeling kinda nervous.”
“Leave it with us,” I assured him. “The gang is in the mood for riddles, and this sounds like a good one.”
I brought the truck into the shop and had everybody gather around. “OK, you Einstein wannabes, let’s hear your suggestions.”
Basil rubbed his chin. “I think Hank and his crew were certainly on the right track. It’s obviously a problem with the speed sensor circuit.”
Beanie frowned. “How so?”
Tooner snorted. “It’s obvious, Bean. What do the speedometer, the transmission, and the ABS system all require in order to operate?”
Beanie screwed up his face and concentrated so hard I thought he was gonna bust a gasket. Suddenly his eyes popped open. “I get it! They all need to know vehicle speed!”
“Exactly,” agreed Basil. “Which is why Hank went after the speed sensor first.”
“Yeah, ‘cept he was only guessin’,” said Tooner. “I’m curious why he can’t get any codes on his scan tool. I mean, the ABS light is on, so there’s got to be a code.”
“Simple,” said Basil. “These models with rear ABS won’t display codes through the scanner; you have to do it the old way by grounding the diagnostic connector at the right front kick panel and count the ABS light flashes.”
Basil showed Beanie how to do it, and he came up with a code 09 – high resistance in the ABS speed sensor circuit. A testing of the two-wire loom confirmed that the red wire had an open circuit.
Beanie frowned. “Gee, where would a guy start looking? These wires run from the dash to the rear axle!”
Tooner cleared his throat. “If you want my educated opinion…” He glared as Beanie interrupted with a snort of laughter. “All right, if you want my best guess, I’d say the wiring connector in the left rear floor area. If it had water around it, there’s bound to be troubles.”
Sure enough, once the fellas pulled the connector apart, they found a corroded terminal deep inside. With a new connector installed, the little truck’s ABS riddle was solved.
The only problem was we’d run out of work for the day, and that meant Beanie and Tooner were right back at it, only this time it was making up jokes cornier than an Iowa farmer’s field. “Hey, Tooner,” hollered Beanie from across the shop. “Does your face hurt?”
Tooner frowned. “No. Why?”
“Well, it should! It’s killing me!” The last thing I saw was The Bean racing across the parking lot with Tooner in hot pursuit, swinging a crescent wrench above his head.
Someone once riddled me that laughter is a tranquilizer with no side effects. But that all depends on who’s getting laughed at.
Rick Cogbill, a freelance writer and former shop owner in Summerland, B.C., has written The Car Side for a variety of trade magazines for the past 14 years. “A Fine Day for a Drive,” his first book based on the characters from this column, is now available for order at thecarside.com.
