Two months ago when I last left the Vixen, it would start and run well. Well, to be honest, it just ran. There were several issues that needed fixed before attempting to drive it anywhere.

First, the air ride suspension system would not hold air, which allowed the air bags to drain and cause the wheels to be pushed all the way up into the wheel wells. The front tires couldn’t turn more than 5 degrees.

Second, the transmission wouldn’t shift into reverse. Or 5th gear, but I could live without that for a short time.

I also had a few more things to bring home, so my buddy Nathan came along to haul stuff and be the backup vehicle in case of roadside issues. And we took a lot of tools.

When we got there, the first order of business was to put it up on jack stands. On gravel. Super safe.

Next was to pull the skid plate and try to figure out why the air compressor isn’t pumping up the tank. During the last visit, I had installed a new air compressor my dad had bought but not installed. It ran, but didn’t seem to build tank pressure. I had realized this after I had reinstalled the skid plate and dropped it off the jack stands during my last visit. Grrrr…

In between the compressor and the tank was an air dryer. When I opened the drain valve of the dryer, there was decent pressure, but barely anything in the tank. So I took the outlet off the dryer…and a tiny hiss escaped. I drained the air and removed the air dryer media bowl. It was empty. Confused, I just took off the entire air dryer. Sure enough, the outlet would barely let any air through without being obviously clogged. It just did not function.

Whatever! I didn’t need that for my drive home. I connected the compressor outlet to hose that previously left the dryer. The air system was put together with those plastic push on fittings connected by stiff plastic hose. I let the pressure build in the tank (which it actually did!) and then went under with a soapy rag. Lets just say every plastic fitting leaked a bit. But not greatly. And the more pressure, the less they leaked. Good enough.

I was walking around inspecting each corner for air leaks. At the left rear, I heard quite the steady hiss. Instead of the large line headed to the air bags, it was a tiny 1/8″ line that was severed. Both halves were there, just a nice diagonal slice had split it in two. A quick run to my dad’s favorite store, the hardware store, and I had something that would close the two halves up.

With the major leaks fixed, the system would pump up and hold air. The air bags valves would work. Sweet! Onto the shifter.

I crawled under the back and everything looked fine. And by that, I mean there was nothing obviously hanging down or on fire. I had Nathan attempt to go through each gear. First off, I noticed that there was no clunk when attempting to go for reverse. This transmission uses a reverse lockout pin controlled by a solenoid to prevent downshifting from third to reverse. But there was no solenoid movement when the button was pushed.

I removed the skid plate to access the reverse solenoid, which is actually a really nice feature. It is tucked away out of the rain and sludge of the road in its own little compartment. It would not be fun to fix on a roadtrip.

With the skid plate off, the problem is evident. There are two wires that trigger the solenoid. One was separated at a barrel wire connector. As I grabbed the barrel connector for further inspection, it easily pulls off the end of the wire. Both ends were crimped, just not well.

OK, at least this is an easy fix. Worm my way out from under the Vixen, perform my 100th sit-up and search out another barrel connector. This one I crimp on tight and test both ends of it. Now reverse works fine.

Back to the transmission and the two shifter cables, it is obvious that the shifter doesn’t have the range to push the lever into the furthest selector position. I loosen the cable sleeve end nuts enough so that it makes it into 5th without feeling like you have to force it. Nice.

Except now it won’t physically shift into reverse. Shit. And yes, the solenoid was working. It appears there is some slop in the shifter causing a shortened throw at the transmission. So, I can choose reverse or 5th gear at the moment. I choose to have reverse, tighten it all back up and call it go.

Since it all seemed to be working, we were on track to get it to the DMV the next day to make it road legal. As I was buttoning it up, I decided to check the air system again. Of course, it didn’t work. Oh, what the hell now? Not only would the compressor not turn on, but none of the valves worked.

I swear this thing is haunted.

I checked my connections. The compressor fuse looked good and underneath, the relay had a good 12v. Tired, hungry and cold, I called it a night and grabbed the wiring diagram.

Not knowing what the problem could possibly be, I made up a jumper to bypass the relay so I could use the fuse at the back to turn the compressor on and off. But I didn’t really want to deal with that all the way back to Utah, so I rolled back under the Vixen and checked all the connections of the entire air suspension system.

After and hour or two checking on all the valve wiring, I finally check the pressure switch for the tank, which is mounted on the side and the electrical connections pointing up to the floor, right next to the frame rail. In other words, it is hard to see, much less work on. I can barely see that the inner wire connection was no longer attached. I struggle with it for a couple of minutes to line it back up to the terminal that I can’t see, only to realize that the connector is too loose to stay on. It just vibrated off last time. So, I crimp the female end tighter and struggle some more to reattach it.

Thinking it should be magically resolved, I happily try the system again and am bummed when I’m still greeting with nothing. I had glanced at the fuses already, but decide to get out the voltmeter and test everything. Being that the air suspension was aftermarket, I wasn’t too sure which fuse to check, so I started checking the ones marked “ride height”. The second one measures 0v on the output. Fuse looked ok, until I pulled it and the bottom cap came off the glass tube. The fuse wire had separated at the very top. Silly electrical BS.

Replace the fuse, turn the system switch back on and …. hmmmm. The sweet hum of the compressor! And all the control valves worked! Great Vixen’s Ghost that was a saga. At least now I know the system from one end to the other.

I bolt the front skid plate on, drop it off the jack stands, pump up the air bags all even like and actually drive it out of the backyard and down to the road. The air compressor shuts off around 138psi (sure, why not) and when I cycle the air bags by pumping them up and releasing pressure, the compressor kicks back on automatically. You don’t know how relieved I am.

Quick run to DMV and get it back to mom’s house with half a day to spare. We spend it loading up and have dinner with my sister and her kids. There is only one thing nagging me about the trip. The alternator does not appear to be charging. Like that is important.

Whatever! We start our journey the next morning. I actually remember to pull up to the diesel pump AND on the right side of the Vixen (diesel hole is on the wrong side).

It is purring away nicely, just about 12v unless I do something silly like step on the brakes or use my turn signal. If fact, the turn signal drops it a full 1.5v on every tick, so I abandon it like most drivers.

Oh, and the heater fan isn’t working. It sounds like it, and I finally realize that it is blasting out passenger side, but not the drivers. I put my fuzzy hat on.

There is one tricky aspect about driving the Vixen: you sit above and slightly in front of the front wheels. I was struggling to remember that I needed to drive deep into corners before turning. Otherwise, the rear cuts the corners badly. I was good of left-hand turns, but I kept dropping the right rear tire off the non-existant shoulders of the backroads. Even kissed the curb at the gas station entrance. And it’s a little different that the “swing wide” style of driving a trailer. It will just take some getting used to.

We make it almost halfway and stop for gas (Nathan’s rig has a drinking problem) and I top off the Vixen just for fun. But when I go to start the thing, the Vixen cranks twice and then gives out the dreaded click, click, click of a dead battery.

Nathan and I give it a little shove backwards and it coasts away from the pumps. Nathan pulls up and we jump it easy enough, but I need to find a way to charge the battery.

Looking around the Vixen, I found a 110v battery charger. And I had let the Vixen charge up the lithium ion house batteries before leaving mom’s house. So, I plug the charger in with the battery cables running out to side door to the vehicle battery. With the cables tucked into the side panels, you can’t even tell.

We walk over to grab some lunch while it is charging. By the time we finish lunch, the Vixen fires right up! That was a lucky find. And since it is all tucked up out of the way and I have well charged house batteries, I can leave the charger connected as we drive. Off we go.

About 3/4 of the way home, we can see rain on the horizon. Since we hadn’t seen rain for four plus months, I can’t really say it was bad sight to see it. It just adds to the adventure.

The good news is that the Vixen drives well in the rain. The bad is that the defroster only works on the passenger side and the wipers… Well, they functioned. They were like your least favorite coworker. Technically, they did the job, but without any sense of urgency or enthusiasm. Turning them to the high setting just caused them to drain more power without going faster than most cars’ slow speed.

Oh, and the battery charger appears to have stopped working.

So we stop to find some RainX and figure out the charger. I notice that the breaker for the 110v outlets is tripped. Resetting just causes it to fault again. I remember seeing an outlet right behind the right front wheel when I had been working on the front end. Seeing as we had been splashing through the water, it was a good place to start.

Well, it was the problem. You see, when I had attempted to move the Vixen during my last visit, the suspension air bags were completely empty and the wheels were as high into the wheel wells as they could be. On the right front, the well weather-proofed outlet had caught the tire and when I moved forward, it rolled the outlet.

Betting that is the source of the fault, I take it off. That is easier said than done with everything folded in on itself. The outlet comes out in 8 pieces. Clip the wires and wrap them in electrical tape. Looks legit to me. So I throw the breaker and it doesn’t trip. Back to charging the battery.

The rest of the trip is rather uneventful. It continues to pour and then the wind starts to blow, but the Vixen travels easily. Even in the dark, the battery charger is keeping up.

Finally pull into the driveway only 15 hours after we left. The trip normally takes me under 11 hours, but I’m happy it is the same day.

The next day, I’m determined to figure out the alternator. I was about to pull the engine cover, which is a removable panel under the rear bed, when I decide to go through the rear fuse panel. I mainly wanted to see if any circuits were lower in voltage than the others.

And it’s a good thing I did. One of the fuses has nothing on the output. I look at the fuse and my old eyes think it is good. Then I remove it and it is blown at the very end of the element.

So, I look at what fuse it is. There are 24 fuses and the first 22 are printed on the left of the diagram. I’m looking for 23. The last 2 are written in pencil on the top, and the paper has rolled down. After unrolling it, I see “Isolator”. As in Battery Isolator. That is what allows the alternator to charge both the chassis and house batteries, without one draining the other.

No way. I replace the fuse and fire up the engine. Please, please, please, please, please. I check the voltmeter on the dash… 13+ volts! YES!! While I feel silly that it was an easy fix, I’m too happy to be annoyed by that.

I actually drive it to work that afternoon and even driving home, using lights, brakes and turn signals all at the same time, the system stays about 13v. And up to 14v when everything is off. Plus, it is charging the house batteries too.

Now that it is home, it’s time to go over everything else and make sure it works. And it actually fits in the garage… After a lot of cleanup and putting outside.

Back when my dad was fighting off his liver cancer, he had wanted to take the Vixen on a trip to the annual Vixen convention. Luckily, the proton therapy had done a good job with no side effects and he was feeling very well. The Vixen just needed a bit of work from sitting for about 3 years.

OK, a lot of work. Dad may have had a few pages of issues to work on, organized with a spreadsheet with priorities and time estimates. He was still an engineer.

Looking at our work schedule, we decided that Kim could run our shop without me for a few days. I headed out there and got to work tackling his list.

One of the biggest complaints my mom had driving it was the shifter. Since the Vixen was a manual and the engine was at the back, the shifter cables were about 20 feet long with several bends. So, this issue was not surprising since they were over 30 years old.

Dad had bought new cables and it looked like a straight forward replacement. The removal was relatively easy. We just cut the old cables, which allowed us to pull the inner cable out of the outer shell. Then the outer shell was easy to maneuver. The hardest part was removing the shell ends from the original shifter bracket. Imagine a giant nut that was hard to get a wrench on, and then barely being able to get a full 1/6 of a turn at a time. Times two. It was not easy. At one point my dad had resorted to using a chisel and hammer to get the nut to tighten enough.

Luckily, someone also produces a new designed shifter base and the new cables use much smaller nuts. We did have to dremel off one of the captured nuts on the underside of the body to get the old shifter bracket off. And we had to clearance the fiberglass body where the new cables went through, just to account for slight cable positions. See? Easy.

After installing the new cables, the Vixen was completely different. The shifting was almost effortless. Mom sat down in the driver seat and was just thrilled. In all honesty, it made a huge difference in driveability.

They were a “few” more issues to tackle. I changed belts and checked hoses. Topped off fluids and greased the chassis. Dad worked on the interior to make it more livable on the road and buttoned the dash back up. Eventually, I had to head back to work leaving a much smaller list for dad to work on.

With most of the issues fixed, mom and dad set out for a long trip, including a visit to the Vixen convention, a trip through Canada, visiting the northeast for the fall color, and seeing friends and relatives all over the country. In total, they spend 3 months and traveled about 8,000 miles.

While it was to be their last big trip, it was a good one.

And as enjoyable as it was, the trip was not without Vixen issues, or adventures, as we Watts call them. I believe that it started with the alternator not charging, even before leaving their home state. Then it threw a belt. Somewhere in Maine, a steering bracket broke, causing it to turn right but not left. The worst issue was when the transmission mount failed, causing loud banging. Of course it failed during “a dark and stormy night” when the GPS devices disagreed on which way to go, and then when they were close to their destination, a closed bridge caused them to back track about an hour.

For fixes, he bought a replacement alternator; had a spare belt to put on; had a new old steering bracket shipped from Minnesota; and had the transmission mount welded up.

But wait, there’s more! Towards the end of the trip, they could not get the transmission into 5th gear. And a couple of days from home, when attempting to start the Vixen at a gas pump, turning the key resulted in blowing the 250a fuse on the negative side of the battery. Like a little kid stomping their foot down, saying “I’m not moving another inch!”

Why was there a fuse on the negative battery post to frame wire? It is a ham radio trick to prevent large shorts from traveling back through the grounding wires and burning out sensitive electronics. Or so I understand. Electronics are black magic to me. Anything more complicated than red wire positive, black wire ground and I have to dust the cobwebs off the ole noggin.

In order to get home, they used the flat tow from the gas pump to pop the clutch and get her running. And then never shut it off. They even slept in a restarea the last night while the engine ran all night along with all the big rigs they were parked next to.

They made it home a bit tired of having issues to work on. But they made it. They parked the Vixen in the back and put it up on jack stands.

Apparently my dad had bought a new starter and, according to my teenage nephew, they had got it started. The last time I talked to him, it still wasn’t running, so I assumed that the starter wasn’t the issue. At least when I finally looked at it, I hooked up the starter to the wires hanging out there, it didn’t work. Specifically, the 30a fuse on the starter relay would pop as soon as you turned the key to start. But that is jumping ahead a bit.

After there long trip, winter came and then I visited the parents on my dad’s 75th birthday. Over the winter, the liver cancer had hit hard, growing exponentially. While he looked good for his birthday with all the family present, the prescribed dosage of meds he was taking was too strong, it kept him down and tired. But at this point, the meds weren’t really making any progress against the cancer.

Too soon after his birthday, he took a turn for the worse. He had a cardiac event which put him in ICU for almost a week and then an assisted living place. He fought back to regain his physical and mental being, but in the end, the liver had failed and his body couldn’t compensate.

I had had the time to be with him the last month or so. And that really helps deal with him not being around any more.

One of the ways I decided to honor him was to get his beloved Vixen running again and take it on a trip. I visited my mom a few times to help clean up the house of dad’s projects and deal with other issues that came up. While there, I would work on the Vixen when I could.

I tried everything I could to figure out why the fuse was blowing. Dad had said it was the big ground fuse that would pop, but here the starter fuse was failing. I removed the relay and just put straight, fused power to the starter and that would still pop.

So I removed the new starter and hooked it up directly to battery and it would engage, but turn real slow. Shit. A bad new starter? And this wasn’t one of the cheap ones. I tested the old starter with the battery and jumper cables and it works. Kinda jumps and sparks, but it engages and spins fast. I throw it back on and boom! There goes the big negative fuse again. Well, at least I validated the original failure mode.

Unfortunately, this is when I had to head back home. As I left, I remember saying, “if this were an easy fix, dad would have fixed it already.”

Being over 10 hours away from a project is torturous. You keep replaying everything you tried and have all these ideas, but you can’t try them. And then you think of something else… But can’t try thay either. It drives you nuts.

When I finally get back to it, I review what I know. The old starter has a dead short in it. That’s a no go. I put the new starter back on, and that’s when I see it. The old starter had the standard two studs on it: the large battery power and the small solenoid activation wire. The new one has three studs. The battery power one is obvious. The other two were different sizes. The ring terminal on the wiring harness was too small to fit on outboard stud, and was the perfect size to fit on the inboard one. Note that the solenoid post was inboard on the old starter.

Things were different with the new starter. On a whim, I jumped the small ring terminal to the bigger stud instead of the one it fit. And the damn bastard started right up.

I was a mix of ecstatic and furious at myself. So happy it ran. So angry that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. Just because something fits doesn’t mean that’s where it belongs.

I had to shut her down and do a proper install of the starter. I had been throwing it together with one of the two bolts and just jumping wires with alligator clips. I had to put on a larger ring terminal on the harness and replace the other connector that I had accidentally ripped off the wire. And tighten all the bolts.

Now that I had the engine running, I did a quick check of everything else. The headlights weren’t working, but the brake and marker lights were. I swear the turn signals didn’t work the first time but did the next. Dash lights were a nope. Also no power to the radio. Huh.

I shut it off and checked all the fuses. The Vixen uses the glass tube style fuses. While attempting to isolate the short, I had separated as many fuses as I could. I did this by popping one side out of the holder and leaving the other in. So I checked that all were properly seated. There was one that was shifted oddly and another not completely seated. But the weird one was that the lights started working when I had the key on and just barely touched (grounded?) one fuse with my voltmeter.

Black magic, I tell you.

I did figure out that the house batteries were really low on voltage.  Luckily, my dad was a lithium battery enthusiast and had replaced the old lead acids with some really capable lithium ones.  So even though they were down to 2.4 volts, they should be alright.  I figured out where the charge controller was.  This was not to be confused with the solar charge controller that was still in place, even though dad had removed the solar on the roof in anticipation of installing a new solar panel which was taking up space in the middle of the tiny motor home. Projects within projects.

I plug the Vixen into shore power.  Sure, I was using an extension cord that was probably older than I was (at least I remember it from as far back as I can) to plug the 30amp adapter into.  I turn on the control and switch it to charge mode. 

And it faults out after 15 seconds. 
Shit. 

Being a mechanical engineer with an electrical problem, I scroll through the menus until I see the fault reset option, clear the faults and try again.  I watch as the power inverter goes from 0 amps to 30 amps to 100 amps and the battery voltage creep from 4 volts (at least that is improved from 2 volts!) up to about 6 volts before it faults out again. Shit.

Well, it was looking better each time.  So let’s try that again.

Each of four times, I watch as the voltage could climb almost 2 volts and then fault out after 15 seconds.  The last time it almost, but not quite, reached 10 volts.  I decided that this may not be great for the system, so I give it a rest to go get some lunch. 

When I come back and try again, the voltage seems to have dropped down a bit (equalizing, maybe?) and it faults out again after 15 seconds and almost getting to 10 volts.  Not wanting to burn out either the lithium batteries or the inverter, I decide to consult the manual.  I know, hide my man card. 

Download the manual to my phone, gotta love the internet!, and scroll to troubleshooting.  Now, I’m reading this manual like an old man.  I have this tiny print on my phone screen, so I am looking over the top of my glasses with the phone inches from my head.  Finally I read “Fault XXX means that the batteries are not reaching 10 volts in 15 seconds.  Clear the fault code and try again.”  Son of a bitch!  I was doing the right thing after all.  Electrical genius.

So I try again.  This time I swear it hit 10 volts right at 15 seconds, but it faulted out.  But the next time…the next time it hit 10 volts and kept charging.  In fact, it charged all the way to 14.8 volts! 

It took several hours and I had to find the inverter which was hiding under the false bottom of the “hall closet” and keep the lid off that compartment in order to cool it off as it was getting too hot.  But it charged it batteries and the batteries held the charge when the inverter went into standby mode.  Holy sweet jesus toast!

With the house batteries charged up, a lot of the non-engine related systems began working well.

After that, it seemed everything would work except the air compressor. I knew dad had been having issues with that on the trip, and had removed it from behind the front suspension crossmember when he got home.  Now, that’s not the easiest place to get to.  There is a fair amount of overhang in the front of the Vixen and there is a giant skid plate that he had taken off that covers from the front nose compartment (or frunk as parents call it) and the body behind the front suspension crossmember.  Tucked up behind the front crossmember is the air tank and the controls for the air ride suspension.  This air suspension was not stock, but is a fairly common replacement on Vixens. 

The most unique part is that the tank is mounted upwards but the compressor was mounted downwards on two pieces of flat stock that run from the crossmember to the body.  Well, one of the two pieces was there but the other was missing in action.  I looked all over and tried to remember if I’d thrown it away during the four trips to the dump of stuff that I had cleaned out of the yard, basement, office and shed. 

Rather than find the original part, I found a piece of stock at the local hardware store, dad’s favorite store by dollars spent.  I cut it to length, drill four mounting holes; two for the compressor and to for the vehicle mounts.  Since my dad had decided to go to a bigger compressor, the new mount I was creating would not mount in the previous holes in the crossmember and body. 

The fun parts was that I had inadvertently taken all the tap & dies home with me last time.  As I was putting stuff away I noticed that they had made the trip to Utah.  This did not help me in New Mexico.  I scrounged through my dad’s copious supply of fasteners.  He, being a child of the depression, was taught to never throw anything out that might be usable later. Even if we discount all the bolts, screws and washers that he brought when he moved to New Mexico, it was still about 15 years worth of fasteners to look through.  Eventually, I found a couple of bolts with cutting threads, drilled the pilot holes and mounted it all up.

Now, I should mention that the Vixen was built with a lot of foreign parts (BMW engine, Renault transmission) but they also had a modified Chevy van front suspension, so the vehicle is an odd mix of SAE and metric fasteners. This does not make me happy.

Between mounting the compressor and the skid plate, I believe we have four different bolt sizes, although most of that was not by design but by using what we had on hand at the time.

Before mounting the skid plate, however, I decided to make sure it all worked.  I turn the key on and go ahead and start it…because I can!  Toggle the air compressor switch to auto.  Nothing.  Toggle to manual.  Nothing.  Damn it.

I crawl my tired ass back up under the front crossmember (did I mention that this is on gravel?  My favorite) and see that it is being powered (or supposed to be powered) by a red wire.  Volt meter confirms no power.  At least we don’t have a dead compressor, yet.  Since this was added on, I can’t rely on any wiring diagrams, so I start tracing the red wire back.   It is tie-wrapped to the right side harness that runs back to the battery.  I head back to the battery and see…5 red wires tied to the harness.  Seriously??

The next day, I sit down to start tracing wires.  One and probably a second power the side running lights that I now notice are probably not stock, especially considering the wiring.  Another runs over to the battery.  It could be that one, but it is attached to power. I hope it’s not that one.  Two others disappear behind the battery and head over to the engine. 

Now I start to vaguely remember something about a wire in the engine compartment related to the air ride suspension that I had seen during the starter trials.  I crawl under engine and see both red wires.  As they diverge, I see that one heads up and has a label tag on it.  As I turn it over I read “Air Ride Compressor”.  Yes!!

Inside the Vixen, there is the main engine access panel under the rear bed.  On the steps to the bed, the vertical riser has an access door to what is referred to as the Ski Compartment.  This is a storage area that goes from one side of the Vixen to the other, in front and above the rear wheels.  Inside the Ski Compartment is another access panel down to the top of the transaxle.  On either side of the transaxle, forward of the engine, are the two “house batteries”.  They run everything but the engine.  The idea is that you can run the house batteries down too far, but still have the engine battery to start the engine. 

On top of the batteries, kind of wedged in that little space, is a small 6 fuse power distribution block.  Now I understand why the power wire for the compressor is all the way back here.  It is designed to run off the house batteries as the air ride has an automatic mode to keep the Vixen level, even when the engine is not running. 

As I look at the block, I see that it is missing 2 fuses and the wires to those fuses are pulled off.  One is labeled “Air Comp”.  Sigh.  At this point, I think my dad was just trying to get me to expand my electrical knowledge.  A challenge to make me smarter. But thanks for the labels dad! So, I plug it all together and find a couple of bladed fuses that seem appropriate.  Try the button again and hmmmmm…the compressor hums to life.  Sweet!

I let it build pressure, which seems to take a while, but it was completely empty.  I had checked the drain/pressure release valve when I was down underneath and had made sure to close it tight.  Eventually, it build enough pressure that I can manually pump up the 4 air bags.  Excited to have it all working and trying to get it moving before nightfall, I quickly mount up the skid plate and drop it off the jack stands. 

I fire it up, still geeked that it runs!, and put it in first.  It pulls forward smoothly.  Put it reverse and it starts to roll forward slightly.  Huh.  It must be in second gear.  Back to neutral, make sure to hit the reverse lockout release switch (and hear it actuate), shift left and down, and…still wants to go forward.

Great.  No reverse.  I’ll have to jack it back up to figure out why it won’t go into reverse.  I really hope it is just a cable adjustment issue at the transmission end. 

I cycle through the rest of the gears. First, second, third, fourth, ugh, ugh…can’t get it into fifth.  I vaguely remember dad mentioning that they didn’t use fifth towards the end of their trip.  I asked mom and she confirms that. So…from 6 to 4 gears.  Great. 

Unfortunately, it is now dark and I plan on leaving for home first thing in the morning.  I use first gear to pull forward and then press in the clutch and roll back down the hill to slowly jockey the Vixen over in the back driveway. Dad had parked it in the most level spot, the middle. 

Another unfortunate issue is that I can’t turn the steering wheel too much because the right front air bag isn’t raised high enough.  You see, the air ride was leveling the Vixen and the right front was the furthest up the slope. This is when I notice that the air pressure in the tank isn’t climbing up near as fast as the day before, and that had been dreadfully slow.  I slap my head in stupidity as I had not bothered to check all the air connections before putting the skid plate on.  

I knew that the two junctions I had made were tight and had new TFE paste on them.  I had noticed that the air inlet was too long and too small for the new compressor.  It had a larger inlet and outlet that I had to find adapters for, but the inlet side was a six foot hose that disappeared into the right front. 

So, while I did get the Vixen to reliably start, and most of the electric demons were purged, I still have a list of things to fix before she is road worthy.  Mainly, the air system needs addressing. I need to get a better/bigger air inlet path, replace the small hoses from the compressor through an air dryer to the pressure tank, and then pressure test the entire thing soaped down.  I need to button up the dash at some point. And I need to check out the transmission shifter cable adjustments and why we are down two gears.

I don’t plan on mounting the solar until I get the Vixen to its new home in Utah.  I still need to figure out if the water system works, both clean, grey and black water systems.  But I am feeling better about the future vacation plans! What could go wrong!?

Stats:

• 1986 Vixen 21TD
• BMW 2.4L inline 6 cylinder turbo diesel engine
• Renault manual 5 speed transaxle
• Fits into normal garage with top down