I topped off the radiator Monday morning. It took half a gallon.
Drove to and from work no problem. Temp gauge normal—just below half.
Tuesday morning, I rolled my eyes at the small puddle under Fezzik, as I loaded P up for school.
Halfway to work, the temp gauge started climbing. Damnit.
I bail out of the commute, find a semi-shady parking spot at a Walgreens, and pop the hood. It looks like coolant is leaking onto the valve cover behind the throttle body. Fine. Whatever.
Add ¾ gallon of distilled water to the radiator, and limp home.
Temp gauge reads normal the whole way—just below half.
Work from home, and replace the throttle body coolant lines before picking P up from school.
Idle for 15 minutes, getting up to temp, bleeding off air bubbles, heater running full blast.
Pick up P from school; a quick, mile or so round trip in 110° heat.
Drive the family to dance class in 110° heat.
Drive home from dance class.
Park in driveway.
Check under truck before leaving for work Wednesday morning.
Drive less than a mile to school, walk back out, to parking lot.
Slow, but steady drip.
Pop hood, check new hoses. Bone dry.
Drive back home, now effectively pissing coolant from the back of the engine.
FFS, Fezzik, C’mon.
I know the one throttle body hose was soft, spongy and cracked. So this is something else. Probably a heater hose.
The gearhead’s golden rule is basically spend the time and money to do it right the first time—so you don’t have to find more time and money to do it over. I’m a big believer in that.
I just seem to buy vehicles which doing it right the first time means replacing entire vehicle systems from scratch.
At this point, within the last 90 days, I’ve flushed the cooling system, cleaned the cooling system, drained and refilled it twice with distilled water, and replaced the thermostat and radiator cap. The water pump was installed new back in April. The radiator hoses are less than a year old.
I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to climbing up on top of the engine to fight with hose clamps in the three inches of space between the engine and firewall. Ugh.
Seriously, Fezzik. Let’s get on with our lives already. This is dumb.