— by Maurice Austin —

Pulled into the Anacortes ferry line today and on the stroll to the little boys’ room I noticed a pretty yellow Cadillac with its hood popped open. I strolled up and asked the guy standing there, “Bad day?”

“Bad battery,” he replied.

Well, I’ve been that guy with the hood open as the cars bumped around me while loading—happens to all of us who motor on a wing and a low budget. Assured him I’d be back with a battery pack once loading time was near.

Of all the accessories I pack up into the hills, a portable battery pack has proven the most necessary, so I carry two. Grabbed the Blue Fuel lithium and walked back once we were within 10 minutes of loading and sparked him up.

He was impressed that such a small unit could crank his Cadillac’s V8 and quickly snapped a pic of the unit. Later, once we’d almost reached Orcas, and I cranked him again after getting permission from the ferry attendant to fire up before docking, he said he’d gotten online and ordered one already, he was so impressed with the thing.

Indeed, even after installing a dual-battery system on my little runabout, I still pack the Blue Fuel. Good little units. This was the third time I’d used it at the Anacortes ferry terminal in the past year. Compact and vital.

Not that this is a product review or anything—but if you’re motoring, do yourself a favor: put a battery pack in the trunk. And while you’re at it, a small cigarette-lighter powered compressor, and maybe a couple of bottles of Slime.

Coming down the road up North Mountain lookout last year, I felt my rear end was getting squishy—that is, the vehicle’s rear end, which usually isn’t—not my own, which alas usually is.

Pulled over on a little steep pullout and hopped out—what! A flat tire! Walked around the vehicle to pull out my jack and glanced at the other rear tire—what! Another flat tire!

And maybe I’ve gotten away from battery packs here but having another piece of equipment saved me from missing my ferry reservation that day: a floor jack.

Those little bottle or scissor jacks automobile manufactures manage to squirrel away in the darkest recesses of your automobile’s undercarriage are useless when your vehicle is chock full of camping equipment or whatever. I pack a floor jack in a tub with gloves and blocks and a couple bottles of Slime…routine was as follows: chock front wheels. Put in neutral. Jack up port side. Release air pressure. Remove valve stem. Insert Slime. Rotate wheel. Hook up compressor. Inflate.
Then lower vehicle, jack up starboard side, repeat. That tire dribbled Slime all over, so that’s the one I swapped out for the spare. Made it down the hill, anyway, and to the ferry, on half a wing and lower budget.

All that up-down would have been very inconvenient with a little bottle jack and the stupid rod that takes forever to get the thing to move an inch. A simple floor jack made the job a cinch and makes it a cinch to help other motorists…like the couple in Darrington who only managed to fish half of their Subaru’s cleverly-squirreled-away bottle jack accessories from underneath their fully-packed vehicle, and were using a screwdriver stuck in a square end to whatever. Pulled up, pulled tub, loosened lugs, pumped a couple times, swapped tires, spun lug wrench, best of luck, you’re going where on that stupid donut spare? Up the Suiattle River Road? Look: don’t…there are old-growth potholes up there, and washboard patches hungry for donuts like that one there….

But please please do tell—what motoring accessories do you find indispensible, dear motorist?

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