I had to take my old Ford in for another round of repairs last week. On the way home last week, the truck started chugging and ticking to the point that I had decided in my mind the engine was giving up. The following day, one of my friends came over and pointed out that malfunctioning spark plug wires can cause such problems. Upon a brief inspection, I learned that one of the wires had indeed split and was arching on the manifold. After I moved it, the engine sounded nearly normal.

It seems like I have gotten to the point in the truck’s life that it is going to need $500 or more per year in repairs, on average. That’s still a good bit cheaper than buying another one.

For this round of work, I got off for about $125, having work done to the exhaust manifold, replacing the spark plug wires and plugs, checking to figure out why the brake warning light was constantly giving off a red and orange warning signal and, most importantly, fixing the interior driver’s side door handle.

I still have a leaky front gas tank and several other minor problems, like a passenger-side door that has to be slammed repeatedly before it will shut properly. But I’m not going to let that get me down, especially since I reclaimed the truck from the junk yard about five years ago and I don’t spend very much time in the passenger seat.

Passengers choose whether or not to ride, don’t they?

As is obvious, I never did get around to repairing all of those dents on the passenger side where it rolled over the bank. But appearances aren’t very important to me on a truck used to work in, drive in bad weather and haul rocks and firewood. Besides, it meets all the requirements for state inspection. It starts, stops and steers, along with beeping, blinking, lighting up and windshield wiping. Why, there are a good many people who can’t do that many things at once.

The dash light glowing red is supposed to tell me that there is a brake problem and that the rear ABS (anti-lock braking system) has failed. But why would I care? It still stops as well as it ever has and is getting to the age that it doesn’t go fast enough to need to stop all that suddenly. I haven’t slid a tire for several years.

When the mechanic told me a sensor check turned up no problems, with the possible exception of a malfunctioning warning light, I was more than happy to take him at his word.

The leaky exhaust manifold on the other side made the truck very loud inside, with the added threat of carbon monoxide poisoning. That was the big repair as far as my mechanic friend was concerned. He had to take apart the exhaust on that side and drill out two bolts, re-tapping the holes for new bolts.

In my opinion, the most important repair was the driver’s side door handle. I had already disassembled the door in a futile attempt to repair it, only to figure out that the door’s cable was moving but the other end wasn’t opening.

I had been forced to use the outside door handle or climb through the passenger side. The option of climbing through the window might have occurred to me 10 years ago, but with my lack of agility, it would likely lead to a stint in traction these days.

Since the windows are electric, that necessitated me remembering not to remove the keys until I had rolled down the window, opened the door, and rolled the window back up again.

But every time I tried to get out, I instinctively pulled the inside handle on the door, knowing full well in some deep part of my brain that it wouldn’t work. Sometimes I pulled it three or four times, just in case it had repaired itself.

Then I would have to put the keys back in the switch, roll down the window, and so forth. Once in awhile, the door would latch again while I was rolling up the inside window and I wouldn’t realize it until I had already pocketed the keys again.

After about two weeks of that, I was ready to have a repair done even if it meant buying a randomly painted door out of the junk yard. After fixing the truck, my old friend and life-long mechanic told me that he had decided to retire from his life of bolt twisting. Funny, he didn’t tell me that until after he had my truck for a few days.

To me, the truck is almost like a relative and he is like a family doctor. The truck may be as close as a well-liked second cousin, twice removed on my father’s side who attended the same high school. Of course, I don’t think I have one of those, so I can’t be positive. As for the truck, it has been with me for the past 13 years or so. That’s better than I can say for anyone I know other than family. So when it is in the shop, it is almost like a family member being in the hospital.

Even worse would be for my only four-wheel-drive to be in the shop with bad weather on the way. Reading the forecast, there is the possibility of snow coming in this Sunday.

Snow? I don’t know if I’m surprised that it might snow or possibly surprised at being surprised by snow in January. I hope that made sense.

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