Last November I had to replace rotors and pads all around. The rear calipers needed rebuilding, and I also wanted to replace the rear brake lines. Now, I've done this many times before, and the worst thing I've run into was a rotor that was stuck to the hub.
Keep in mind this is a week before I have to leave with the car for a two-day trip. I have all the required parts and tools. I replace the front pads and rotors. No problem. I replace the brake piston seal, boot, and guide bushing on the passenger side rear caliper. I also replace the two brake hoses, which are 8 years old. No problem.
Mistake 1: It's getting dark, and instead of finishing the job the next day, which is what I would normally do, I press on. I rebuild the caliper, I replace the two brake hoses on the driver side. Because it's pretty dark, I have to do some fumbling with the brake hose connectors. It takes a bit longer than anticipated, mostly because my back, which I had thrown out a while ago, doesn't allow me to bend and flex like Gumby. Well, I get it done by the light of a new moon, a 60 Watt overhead bulb (12 feet away), and with the aid of a rapidly fading LED flashlight.
No problem, I think, I'll get this done in no time. I insert the brake piston tool with the proper adaptor into the caliper and begin turning the handle to push and turn the brake piston back into caliper housing. Suddenly I can't turn the handle further, although by the weak light I can see the piston isn't in far enough.
Mistake 2: Oh well, I think, I'm probably tired and just need to put more muscle into it. Using a pain-suppressing Zen technique, I turn the handle with all my might-about 1/8th of a turn. Now it won't budge. I try the other direction until I am most certainly blue in the face. My fingers are numb and swollen. I take my fading flashlight and take a belated close look at caliper piston tool and the piston. It becomes immediately apparent that the adaptor plate, which has two short prongs that fit into two matching notches in the piston, is canted. Only one prong is in the matching slot, the other prong is not. The adaptor plate is canted and has slipped to the side, becoming an eccentric cam. The second prong is next to the brake piston. *insert lots of swear words*
Mistake 3: I begin twisting, turning, pulling, I use a crowbar, I use a 2-foot screwdriver for leverage, I huff, I puff, I am bathed in sweat and filthy with grime, likely I stink. I think I may suffer an untimely demise due to a spontaneous cerebral event. My arms are numb and a feel ten inches longer, my hands look like the swollen paws of a bear. I have actually bent the steel handle of the tool with my bare hands. I've had enough. The tool won't budge, and even Conan the Bavarian would give up. I don't remember what happened then.
A new day! I take a look, first at my swollen hands, then at the messed up caliper. Nice. Never ever will I work on my car in dim light-lesson learned. I decide to remove the caliper. After contemplating my still deteriorating (increasing in size) hands and the impossibility of removing the tool without cutting with a Flex (I don't have one) through either the caliper of the brake piston, I decide to order two new calipers (No point in replacing just one-the other one is an antique). I order online and am promised delivery within 48 hours. Great, because I need to leave in 5 days.
I wait. And I wait. I check the tracking info. And I wait. While I'm waiting I am getting more and more sore muscles.
It's the day before I have to leave. The calipers arrive in the late afternoon. I install them. I flush and bleed (also the brakes). No problems. The next morning I go on my trip, feeling like I just did a triathlon and some wrestling with wild beasts.
Fast forward: today I take a look at the caliper/brake tool unit. I take a small metal handsaw and saw straight through the brake piston in about 7 minutes. I make a second cut and remove a 3 mm slice of solid piston. I remove the brake tool, which, having spent 7 months in the garage, has acquired a nice rusty patina. The tool is now soaking in Ballistol.
Lessons learned:
1. Don't work in dim light.
2. Don't try to force it if something won't budge without first determining why it's stuck.
3. Don't overexert yourself to the point where your finger joints pop and fluid collects outside of the joint under the skin. Don't ignore pain, it's there for a reason.
Keep in mind this is a week before I have to leave with the car for a two-day trip. I have all the required parts and tools. I replace the front pads and rotors. No problem. I replace the brake piston seal, boot, and guide bushing on the passenger side rear caliper. I also replace the two brake hoses, which are 8 years old. No problem.
Mistake 1: It's getting dark, and instead of finishing the job the next day, which is what I would normally do, I press on. I rebuild the caliper, I replace the two brake hoses on the driver side. Because it's pretty dark, I have to do some fumbling with the brake hose connectors. It takes a bit longer than anticipated, mostly because my back, which I had thrown out a while ago, doesn't allow me to bend and flex like Gumby. Well, I get it done by the light of a new moon, a 60 Watt overhead bulb (12 feet away), and with the aid of a rapidly fading LED flashlight.
No problem, I think, I'll get this done in no time. I insert the brake piston tool with the proper adaptor into the caliper and begin turning the handle to push and turn the brake piston back into caliper housing. Suddenly I can't turn the handle further, although by the weak light I can see the piston isn't in far enough.
Mistake 2: Oh well, I think, I'm probably tired and just need to put more muscle into it. Using a pain-suppressing Zen technique, I turn the handle with all my might-about 1/8th of a turn. Now it won't budge. I try the other direction until I am most certainly blue in the face. My fingers are numb and swollen. I take my fading flashlight and take a belated close look at caliper piston tool and the piston. It becomes immediately apparent that the adaptor plate, which has two short prongs that fit into two matching notches in the piston, is canted. Only one prong is in the matching slot, the other prong is not. The adaptor plate is canted and has slipped to the side, becoming an eccentric cam. The second prong is next to the brake piston. *insert lots of swear words*
Mistake 3: I begin twisting, turning, pulling, I use a crowbar, I use a 2-foot screwdriver for leverage, I huff, I puff, I am bathed in sweat and filthy with grime, likely I stink. I think I may suffer an untimely demise due to a spontaneous cerebral event. My arms are numb and a feel ten inches longer, my hands look like the swollen paws of a bear. I have actually bent the steel handle of the tool with my bare hands. I've had enough. The tool won't budge, and even Conan the Bavarian would give up. I don't remember what happened then.
A new day! I take a look, first at my swollen hands, then at the messed up caliper. Nice. Never ever will I work on my car in dim light-lesson learned. I decide to remove the caliper. After contemplating my still deteriorating (increasing in size) hands and the impossibility of removing the tool without cutting with a Flex (I don't have one) through either the caliper of the brake piston, I decide to order two new calipers (No point in replacing just one-the other one is an antique). I order online and am promised delivery within 48 hours. Great, because I need to leave in 5 days.
I wait. And I wait. I check the tracking info. And I wait. While I'm waiting I am getting more and more sore muscles.
It's the day before I have to leave. The calipers arrive in the late afternoon. I install them. I flush and bleed (also the brakes). No problems. The next morning I go on my trip, feeling like I just did a triathlon and some wrestling with wild beasts.
Fast forward: today I take a look at the caliper/brake tool unit. I take a small metal handsaw and saw straight through the brake piston in about 7 minutes. I make a second cut and remove a 3 mm slice of solid piston. I remove the brake tool, which, having spent 7 months in the garage, has acquired a nice rusty patina. The tool is now soaking in Ballistol.
Lessons learned:
1. Don't work in dim light.
2. Don't try to force it if something won't budge without first determining why it's stuck.
3. Don't overexert yourself to the point where your finger joints pop and fluid collects outside of the joint under the skin. Don't ignore pain, it's there for a reason.
