Wednesday, July 24, 2013
That’s the sound. About 3 seconds every couple of hours. It’s coming from under my bed. Just enough to wake me out of a deep sleep.
Yes, it’s the water pump. I usually remember to turn it off before I go to sleep. It’s been acting this way during the whole trip, and probably for a considerable time before that. I know it’s a leak. The problem is finding it.
I’ve been hunting it down for weeks. I’ve checked every hidden joint and valve. I’ve torn the shelves out, upended the bed to check the pump, looked under the shower and the sinks, feeling at arm’s length and searching with a flashlight for any sign of moisture, tightening everything in my wake. I’ve released and reset the pressure relief valve of the water heater. Twice. Even ran the outside shower for the first and probably last time.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Dry as a bone. Dusty, dusty. Brrrrrrt.
The hot water heater was always, after the pump, my prime suspect. But I could never find water there. There was a good bit of old scale from some earlier era that I’ve been meaning to get some vinegar to and clean up But, as you can see, that wasn’t really high on my todo list.
Wherever it was, it had to be a tiny thing, a leak that dried up even as it appeared. Just enough to very slowly reduce pressure over a long period. Something the pump could ultimately recharge in 3 seconds.
Well, today I found that sucker. And, as usual, more than I bargained for. There appeared a single tear hanging pendant and wobbling from the water heater drain plug. Gotcha.
No problemo, right? I’ll just tighten it up a smidge. When I did, the top twisted right off the dang thing. Glug, glug, glug, glug. 6 gallons worth. I waited while it drained. And turned off the gas. Then I had the delicate job of using a flat screwdriver to chisel out the plastic left down in that hole. Without screwing up the metal threads, thank you.
Remarkably, that worked.
Lessee, I know I have a spare here somewhere. Not that big thing, that’s the garden hose adapter for my shower head. All right, all right, the search is on. Root, hog, or die. I finally found it… in my shoeshine kit. Remind me to look there first for whatever I need in future.
All’s well. No leaks. And on that triumphant note, it’s about time for lunch down by the river. I’m thinking cabbage rolls and fritos. There will be plenty, if you can find me.
Posted by Bob Giddings at 10:01 AM