05 July 2007
Recently, my hubby has been working on his project with his usual manic fervor. He has now welded together a front and back from two different golf carts and installed batteries. While "garfy," as I am wont to call it, is no where near complete, its creator felt that it was ready for showing off to friends and relatives. Since there is no speed controller, the machine had only three speeds: full power forward, full power reverse, or stopped. In order to stop it, he had to put it from forward into reverse, then he could turn it off.
The first demonstration was fairly uneventful, but the sparks I saw in the cart's nether region made me reluctant to let him show it off again until he had devised some sort of speed controller. However, his older brother came over to see, and younger brothers must always show older brothers their neat-o projects. This time, the process was a little more sticky. When my true love put it from forward into reverse, the jolt knocked him nearly upside down into the bottom of the cart. And he was now heading full speed in reverse for our garage. (Better our garage than our neighbors expensive-to-replace fencing, I suppose.) Luckily, he stopped just in time to gently bump our garage wall.
He created a speed controller from an old cutting board and some bolts the very next day. The picture above is him testing it with his GPS to see how fast it goes in our local church parking lot. I followed him in our car. He insisted on doing it in mid-afternoon, in spite of the fact that it was the 4th of July. You know that phrase, hotter than the 4th of July? I think it was coined in Southern Utah. One of the early settlers said that if he had a summer house in St. George and one in Hell, he'd rent out the one in St. George.