June 22, 2006

Essentially Ashland

Lance Pugh

Working under pressure

By Lance Pugh
Tidings Correspondent

At a time when I wanted to be Most Green, given the Prius, battery powered lawn mower, electric trimmers, bicycle fleet and hand-cranked radios, I suddenly felt a contrary urge for a pressure washer which uses 85-octane gasoline.

I previously owned a model from Italy that ran on electricity. It worked great until the nozzle exploded. The warranty guaranteed that if I were to walk to Milan, I would have a new part in a few days or weeks, but if it took longer they knew of a house rental that might meet my needs at a cost and view that promised to be breathtaking.

Fed up with all that, I bought a domestic model that waddled out of the box almost honking for me to goose the gas. In a few minutes I was watered up and ready to fly.

It is well to understand that pressure washers come in different flavors, mostly defined by the Pounds Per Square Inch (psi) that they can deliver from the nozzle. For most of us, 1400 psi would be adequate for normal cleaning, but the one I got chirped the chart at 2400 psi, enough to push back some years of neglect with a swipe.

If you have purchased anything in recent years that requires assembly, I am sure you share my opinion of the Owners Manual and Assembly Instructions that are to be found, eventually, inside the box, folded neatly and taped to near extinction. The writing of these tomes most assuredly is handled offshore by someone who uses English only when buying spark plugs, oil and cotter pins, if then.

Nothing bubbling

Adding to the general air of chaos, instructions are also printed in French, Spanish, and German. Fortunately I do read a smattering of other languages, and actually found it helpful in my struggle to unravel the authors’ intent.

After three hours of reading about my new pressure washer, it took me only five minutes to assemble the unit. With fresh gas and oil I rolled out the demon for some spring-cleaning on the cars, Airstream and sidewalks, overlooking the fact that the house itself needed a lick of the wand. Smiling inwardly, I attached the detergent intake tube, as the vehicles needed a thorough cleaning. I pulled on the starting cord and after only 50 to 60 pulls the engine roared to life.

I began washing down the first vehicle, but something was not right. The plastic tubing between the suds bucket and the pressure washer was clear, indicating, as if I had not already noticed, that no detergent was being transferred. Undaunted, I shut things down and grabbed the Owners Manual. No luck there.

In desperation I went on the Internet and Googled my predicament, eager to learn why nothing was bubbling my way. (In passing I learned that pressure washers made in the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands automatically earn the “Made in the USA” label, for what it’s worth.)

I kept researching until, I am sure by accident and in no way fully explained, the answer surfaced to me like a slug in a bucket of beer: The tip of the nozzle had two settings! One for power washing, and the other for slurping suds. Thus, in the span of only six hours, I was up and running a curbside car wash, for which my neighbors gave thanks as they motored on over for a complimentary wash and shop vac.

Readers may summon LancePugh by applying pressure to: lance@journalist.com. The ink in his new book is so wet that every copy comes with a paper towel and, given his way with words, a toll-free number for tech support somewhere near the Marianas Trench.

“Essentially Ashland” will appear in this space each Thursday. Lance Pugh can be reached at lance@journalist.com. His forthcoming book is “Essentially Ashland…The Missing Years: 1971-2006.”