The C.V. Joint Story

This happened in a garage two years ago; I never should have given up.

I had to drive my car two hours through mountains to get it fixed.

But this way, I could get it fixed for free.

My soon-to-be Father-in-law had a car lift and a knack for fixing the mechanical, where I only had half of those things.

When this guy was growing up, he was gifted a dirt bike.

But HIS dad (I suppose that would have been my grandfather-in-law, were he still alive) said, “Take the bike apart piece by piece. I want no two parts touching. If you can put it back together, you get to keep it.”

He found a way to put the bike back together and ride it. So yes, a knack for the mechanical.

I had the part we needed (A front left c.v. joint, or, a spinny-bendy rod that connects the engine to the wheel) and I rolled my car into his shop.

I watched the lift slowly raise the car up. Once it stopped, he and I took off the wheel, moving the old, breaking c.v. joint into place to pull it out.

My soon-to-be father-in-law let me take a shot at pulling it out.

I’m 6’1”, 170lbs, mostly muscle. I figured I could pull this thing out, no problem.

So I pulled and I felt the whole car move, but the joint stayed in place. I pulled with both arms now (it didn’t help that there was black grease all over my hands.)

The joint was stuck.

So I pulled again. Man, this thing was lodged in there.

“It’s because there’s an O-ring,” my fellow mechanic pointed at the new c.v. joint, right to the tip that would go into the transmission. “That’s what’s stopping it.”

Good to know, I thought, and gave it another pull, stronger than the last.

It still didn’t move.

I tried a few more times.

Couldn’t get it.

Well, if I can’t, I bet he can, I thought, and stepped away from it.

My soon-to-be father-in-law looked at me to make sure I’d given up. He gave one of those shrugs that said, ‘You didn’t need to give up, but okay.’

He put his hands on it and gave it a pull.

Nothing.

Then again.

Nothing.

He adjusted his grip and set his face to a mode of determination and pulled.

It came out.

He pointed to the O-ring at the end of it.

“That’s what was stopping us.”

And then I wondered…

What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to take it out?

Would we have just sat here doing nothing?

And what if the roles were switched? What if he was the one who couldn’t get it out? We would have had to find a way to get it out. Failure wasn’t an option; I had to drive home.

This guy was more committed to my car than I was. The only way out is through in this case.

So why did I wait? Why did I just fall onto this assumed safety net of someone else? I had the capability. I had the muscle to make this fix. And there was no reason for me to quit, other than the belief that I couldn’t do it. I could have done it if that was my only option.

And that’s exactly why I would have done it: Because it was my only option.

Sitting around hoping things will fix themselves doesn’t fix things. Fixing things fixes things.