
Last summer on a trip back from Portland, she died. This was the third time the truck died on me though the first that did not leave me stranded during a freak heat wave or after a double shift at work. This time she thoughtfully died in the parking lot of a 7-11 leaving my friend and I plenty of opportunities to fill up on slurpees, sour ropes and bubble gum while waiting for the tow company.
After a quick "wanna do me a favor" phone call to the local Chevy dealer - you've got to love having connections - it was determined that the fuel pump failed. Again.




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