Search and Rescue

Curious that the rookie ascetic's baby steps are less a slash and burn unload than an anguished analysis of what's dear after clearing the dead wood of nest padding. Case in point is my sweet patootie's clothes dryer punking out not long ago. The born rescuer sights the problem in my crosshairs and is poised to diagnose. I have her full permission to resuscitate what's as good as dead anyway, so i make the incision with a spatula and expose the innards. No heat in the coil but enough current to make me duck and cover, motor smooth, no burnt evidence. First assessment is the heating coil gone, but there are no gaps in the wire. Could be a fuse too, but who knows without a multitester handy. I get online and see that a new coil (these things do get brittle with age) is $50 and since the labor will be free, offer to undercut the home repair guys, figuring their initial visit will be around $150 minus parts and I'd come out smelling good and feeling righteous against da Man. Encouraged by her adoring eyes, the hero sets off the next morning to the Sears warehouse, since it's a Kenmore. She loved it when it worked, when it sensed moisture and protected her clothes from excessive fire and rain. She just didn't know when she bought the gizmotic thing, she didn't experience the years of being held parts and repair hostage by anything Sears. It's a family tradition passed down to me that Craftsman blades cost more than the saw and parts were only available in an industrial warehouse on the wrong side of the tracks. They've kept the business model but somehow my instincts and training failed me and i went along with the salesguy's advice that the heating circuit contained more suspects than just the coil. In the bulkhead area also resides a thermal fuse, a thermal cutoff, and a thermistor. I take my chances with a heater coil and the thermal fuse/high-limit thermostat, about $100 of parts. Reasoning these things wear out and this combination will likely cover the failing part, i ride back to storm the castle with new ammunition. No happy red glow from the coil, a patient and semi-adoring smile from the maiden in distress. Next battle? The fabulous internet for deep forum research. There was still the thermistor in the repair chain, another $25 and another trip to the nowherehouse. Back to the ranch and still no-go. Back to the forums and a hidden clue about the heater relay in the console along with horror stories of on-site repair charges and burnt out controller boards (>$100).

Here's where love conquers all. Rather than letting me nearly surrender to the factory repair goons, honest or devious as they may be, she suggested i press on and pursue the heater relay clue. I've done enough repair in my life to know the cut point, the place where i defer to the expert, but it's a moment of full reluctance and twinges of failure. But she was totally behind me on this and her intentions were adventurous and practical.

The short of this is there are two identical (FSA China like all other Whirlpool aftermarket parts throughout) relays in the top console where the controls are, one controls the heater, the other the motor. You get the part number from the parts list and Google it, looking for sellers (not Sears). The price hovers around $30 but i found a guy on Ebay selling them new for $6. He only sells these switches and pants but he shipped it right out to me and after locating the right circuit (not the intuitive one from the exploded view), the coiled glowed bright red as i yelled bingo! The happiest maiden comes skipping toward me and throws her arms around my neck and i look into the deep blue of her shining eyes to realize she knew better than i that it was a matter of access, resource and effort. She realized the learning experience versus trading job time for money to pay people extortion rates to fix an over-complicated machine that mimics the sun and wind. Yes, there is the clothes line that gets used more often, but this was a challenge of humanity over inhumanity and the surcharge machine nearly won all the spoils of war. But i'll never forget that happy, little-girl homecoming hug of hers and the delicious sweetness of her faith in my mission. As JP McCartney wrote in 1975 about 1985, " I just can't get enough of that sweet stuff my little lady gets behind", or maybe it was "gets me high". Doesn't matter when it's all so wonderful.