My dad was sick in the 70's with a liver disease that started out as Rocky Mountain Spotted Tick fever. He had a Volvo Station Wagon and no need for it at the time. To help them out, I bought it to fix up and drive. It had well over 100,000 miles on it and needed a lot of work. In fact, I had to replace the universal joints on it just to get it home. A little later on, I found a guy that had several wrecked, brand new Volvo's (train derailment) and bought one to replace the entire running gear. Basically I lifted the steering wheel and drove a whole new Volvo under it. Engine, transmission, front end and every part that I could fit in the old car that was OK on the wrecked car. It even had an overdrive to help it get over 20 MPG. With electronic Fuel Injection, it ran great.
One weekend, we took a trip to Wichita to visit my mom and dad. On the way back at Emporia, I took the I-35 cut off and headed up towards Ottawa where we were living at the time. Dave had been a really good baby for the entire trip and was in his car seat fairly quiet. About halfway between Emporia and Ottawa, he got a little fussy and Barb brought him to the front seat to see if he needed a diaper change. he had finished a bottle about Emporia so he probably was wet.
Just as Barb got Dave into the front seat, I saw a large male Raccoon on the highway. I was driving 70 and there was just no way I could slow down enough to keep from hitting him. As I got closer, he arched his back in a defensive posture and slam, bam, that's when the fun began.
As I hit him, the car became almost uncontrollable. It seemed like the steering was all whacked up and I could kind of control the direction I was sliding with one wheel or the other. There was just no way both tires were in control at the same time. I slid first to the right, then the left and then right and then left... Thank god it was a four lane and there was no one any where near us. I managed to control it just enough to get it stopped just short of hitting a bridge abutment. That would have probably killed us if we had struck that damned coon closer to the bridge overpass abutment.
I got out and looked to see what the hell had managed to make the car uncontrollable. It appeared that Volvo built the front end in both a right hand drive and a left hand drive. The drag link that went across from the steering gear to the right front wheel was in front of the main support on the left hand drive. That damned coon had arched his back and it bent that drag link completely against the frame. It made the front wheels toe in to the point that if one wheel was in charge, the other was sliding almost sideways. Not conducive to driving fast and under control.
After getting my nerves back under control, I then decided to see what I could do to make it work the last 30 miles home. back in those days, i was a poor Civil Service employee and the thought of having it towed home was not an option I could afford if at all possible to avoid. In those days, I always carried a set of tools in the Volvo. In fact, i think they were in a plastic wrapper and came with one of the two cars. I set out to see if I could remove the bent bar and do some work on it to make if straight. I got it off, but man was that some strong drag link.
I can see it now in my mind's eye, 3/4 inch thick and with a "U" shape not straight. I put it on the ground and tried to jump up and down to straighten it back out. No such luck. I tried everything I knew how including jacking up the car and letting the weight of the car bend it. No way I could make that happen. In frustration, I slammed it against the big bridge abutment. hey, it was a little straighter. Slam again and a little better. Slam it for the third time and with the adjustment in the ball joints on the end I might be able to get it straight enough to get home. I played Mc Guyver all I knew how and put it back together. Glory be, it wasn't perfect but I managed to limp it back to Ottawa that night.
The next day I took the bar over to the Maintenance Shop and one of the guys with the help of some heat and a vice made it straight again. I had managed to wear off a lot of rubber on the front wheels but they were replaceable and Dave and the wife weren't. The tire shop also was able to realign the front end and all was well.
I am telling this story because my niece hit a Saint Bernard with her BMW. Thank god they too are safe. I just hope they can repair her car as cheaply as I got off. (Yes, I know it will cost $100 to drive into the BMW shop to say hi)
MUD
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