In the “It’s always something” category:
Punched the blast door button (garage door) at the Suburban Blah House this morning, naively thinking I was about to jump on the bike and head to work.
The door made an unusual noise…a subtle mechanical sound that my brain instantly translated into, “ACCKKKHHHH GAWD IT HURTS HEEEEEELLLLLPPPP MEEEEEEEEE! AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeee!”
I looked sharply toward the door just in time to see daylight where the sun shouldn’t shine…namely a wide gap between the first two panels as they started their upward journey. After they made the corner, all worked as expected.
A brief look told me I had a broken hinge. Another look told me I had ANOTHER broken hinge (same panel, opposite side).
Since having a couple hundred pounds of steel garage door crashing down on my head (as well as anything else that may be in its way) is somewhat annoying (not to mention expensive) I was not willing to risk moving it again. I extracted The Dragon from peril and let the wife know the door was not secure and I was going for parts. That’s code for, “Feel free to shoot anybody that’s not ME that enters the garage…or yanno…make ’em clean the thing or something.”
Did you know there’s half-a-dozen or so different types of hinges on these things? I needed a couple “#3’s” for this particular junction so of course, I found every OTHER type in stock until I had zoomed around to 4 different stores.
Ten minutes with a 3/8″ socket wrench and we were back in business.
I replaced the rollers while I was at it…