Tabor tells me that eating a cheeseburger is no excuse for missing a repair session, but I was really hungery after working the gas stop on Day 1 of the race. For Day 2 I made sure to be ready for Tim, just in case.
Tim sent me a text at 2:29 "You going to wrench?" on Friday, Feb 8th. I was ready this time, but he called me in the trailer and asked if I could bring files after describing a metalic grinding sound for the last 40 miles of the race.
By the time I borrowed files from Wade, and walked over to the repair area, Tim has the driven clutch off and it looked pretty bad. This was his jackshaft bearing:
It was so shot that it allowed the driven clutch to interfear with the drive, and both outer sheaves were trashed. Tim looked up at me and said "I don't know about this." Well, thinking WWTD (what would Tabor do) I pushed all doubt aside (I gave us less than 50/50 chance really) I sprung into action and said "where it the Cat Parts trailer? We didn't drive 1,500 miles to quit." I pulled the junk bearing off and ran to the trailer, returning moments later with a new one. Tim and I look turns cleaning spalled metal off the jackshaft, and I then took the file to the mushroomed outer sheave. So much metal was smooshed to the inside, where the belt rides, this was our biggest repair challenge.
Once the driven was cleaned up enough to hopefully not chew up a belt, I tackelled the drive. Since I was running out of steam, I used the flat file to knock off the huge chunks on the moveable face, and asked Tim to block the view behind me, and start the motor. While his 500 idled along, I cleaned and smoothed the movable face, hopefully enough to not trash belts, or crack and explode. Gave if a final smoothing with some borrowed emery cloth Tim obtained from the guys next to us.
In the 45 minutes we had since my arrival, we replaced the bearing, smoothed the jackshaft, cleaned up the clutches and got a belt installed. But Tim found blood all over the sled. Turns out I sliced a finger open on the darn razor sharp keyway, oops. With a few minutes to go, we slammed on a set of freash carbides, and Tim flipped the sled down and started it...with only 3 minutes left in the hour long session.
I just leaned over and tried to catch my breath as Tim pulled away...