We've all been there. A quick project becomes a huge undertaking. A flying trip to the store becomes an all-day adventure. That's what an old Chevy pickup truck did to me over the weekend. 

To preface the story, let me say that I'm a bit of a gearhead. I love sliding under greasy vehicles and sweating profusely while making them better. This weekend was no exception.

It all started with an old Chevy pickup in need of a transmission. I got it for next to nothing and I LOVE trucks. After finding a suitable replacement for the crapped out unit, I set aside this weekend to do the swap. 

Problem 1. I was gonna have to fix the truck in my driveway, so I had to wait until later in the day to have a shady spot to work. High humidity and 90-something temps suck when exerting yourself on a concrete driveway. 

Problem 2. Fire ants....those shady bastards. 

Problem 3. I was gonna be doing the job alone, so hoisting and lowering two transmissions (one full of burned fluid) would be interesting at best.

Problem 4. The dowel pins that properly locate the bell housing to the engine were seemingly TIG welded by God himself.

Problem 5. I had just shaved my head (I have a mohawk), and my scalp was cut from the constant scraping on the driveway. It was a real treat. lol

Cutting to the chase, that bitch is out. The new one isn't in yet, but that will happen very soon.

The bad news? The sensors, tail shaft housing and gear shifter linkage are all totally different. 

Time to take a break and re-convince myself that I love this stuff. lol