Continuously operating such a large-displacement engine is extremely physically demanding.
The third time.
The fourth time.
The garage echoed with the whooshing sound of the cable snapping back and the muffled thud of the engine idling.
Until the tenth time.
Su Wei felt a soreness in his right arm, and the cold air he inhaled made his throat hurt.
But this lump of metal was like a dead pig, only occasionally emitting a couple of puffs of choking white smoke, showing no signs of starting.
Could the spark plugs be flooded? Or is there water frozen in the YouTube?
Su Wei leaned weakly against the handlebars.
He took off his gloves, intending to touch the engine to check its temperature.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the red emergency stop switch below the dashboard; it was in the operating position, no problem.
He then checked the fuel tank cap and unscrewed it.
He shone his flashlight into the fuel tank.
That one glance made Su Wei's otherwise steady heartbeat skip a beat.
The bottom of the tank was spotless, with only the YouTube filter stuck to it; there wasn't a single drop of oil.
Su Wei froze instantly.
Chapter 41: Three Seconds of Happiness
Su Wei bent over, his body stiffening.
A few seconds later, he straightened up.
"Snap."
He raised his hand and slapped himself hard on the forehead.
The crisp sound echoed in the empty garage.
Su Wei, Su Wei, you are truly a genius.
He inspected the tracks and suspension, looked at the outer shell, and even tested the engine's cylinder pressure.
But they forgot about the most crucial part: the fuel tank.
Habitual thinking can be deadly.
When I rode this thing down the mountain, I must have twisted the throttle all the way to the floor to save my life.
With that kind of high-speed engine consumption, it would be strange if the fuel tank wasn't empty.
What's more, he's been lying here for several days.
Su Wei took off his gloves and threw them on the oil-stained workbench.
He leaned on the edge of the table, panting heavily.
White mist rose from his mouth and quickly dissipated.
Those dozen or so hard pulls just now used up too much of my energy.
My arm is still sore, and the muscles are throbbing with pain.
It was all for naught.
Without oil, even if you break this rope, this Polaris won't budge.
Su Wei took a piece of chocolate out of his pocket, tore open the wrapper, and popped it into his mouth.
The cold chocolate melted in my mouth, giving me a slight boost of energy.
The problem has come full circle.
fuel.
The generator is diesel, but the snowmobile has a two-stroke gasoline engine.
Adding diesel fuel will only destroy the engine completely.
Gasoline is necessary.
Su Wei glanced around the dimly lit garage.
The row of red spare oil drums on the shelf had already been added to his pickup truck or the lawnmower before winter even arrived.
At that time, I thought I could go to town to buy it anytime, so I didn't stockpile too much gasoline.
Who would have thought that a blizzard would seal this place off?
Moreover, it happened in Kodiak at the end of October.
Where can I get gasoline now?
Su Wei's gaze wandered around the garage, finally settling on the large vehicle parked in the center.
Dodge.
Su Wei's pupils contracted slightly.
Last time he went to town, he filled up his 100-liter gas tank at the gas station.
Although we drove a bit after returning, the fuel gauge needle probably didn't move much.
Su Wei quickly walked to the pickup truck.
The car door handles were icy cold.
He pulled hard.
Click.
It wasn't locked.
There's no need to lock your car here; aside from bears and foxes, nobody will bother you.
Su Wei climbed into the driver's seat, inserted the key, and turned it to the ignition position.
The dashboard lights up.
The fuel gauge needle remained steadily at the "F" position, barely moving.
That's enough.
Even if we brought ten more snowmobiles, this amount of fuel would be enough for them to make a round trip to town.
Su Wei pulled out the key and jumped out of the car.
The task at hand is simple: get the oil out of the pickup truck and pour it into the snowmobile.
There is no oil pump.
But this is no challenge for a skilled adult.
Siphon principle.
All you need is a tube, a container, and a little lung capacity to solve the problem.
Su Wei began rummaging through drawers and cabinets in the garage.
He found a clean plastic bucket in the corner of the tool wall, which was originally used to mix windshield washer fluid.
But that's not enough.
The key is the pipe.
Too thick won't work, it won't fit into the fuel tank opening; too thin won't work, the flow rate will be too slow and it will freeze.
Su Wei pushed aside the cardboard boxes piled with miscellaneous items and rummaged through the dusty bottom shelf.
A roll of green garden hose?
Too thick.
A discarded brake YouTube?
Too short.
Until he pulled out a transparent PVC hose from a transparent storage box.
It's about two meters long and as thick as a finger. Although the material hardens at this temperature, it hasn't cracked yet.
Su Wei tugged at it forcefully.
The toughness is acceptable.
Holding the pipe and bucket, Su Wei returned to the pickup truck.
He unscrewed the fuel tank cap on the pickup truck.
A strong smell of gasoline wafted out.
This smell reassured Su Wei considerably.
Next comes the technical part.