AutoAnything

Mud flaps exist to do the thankless job of stopping spatters, slop and gunk from mucking up your vehicle. Sometimes they can even prevent a run in with the law as we see in the following story.

One hundred and fifty dollars! I couldn’t believe it, but there it was, printed right there on the fix-it-ticket, $150. It was clear that there would be no way out of this one. That dang cop had me dead to rights and now the bill had arrived in all its highway-robbery glory. What now?

The saga began a few weeks ago when me and my buddies were sloshing it up at the local mud bog. My ’04 Silverado, aptly named Mud-Slinger, is built for the express purpose of, well, slinging mud. I’ve got a snorkeled cold air intake for the deep stuff, a power chip tuned for torque and a performance exhaust to let that baby exhale.

On top of the power mods, I got the Mud-Slinger lifted higher than Keith Richards on china white. I’m talkin’ 14” Skyjacker lift, triple Fox shocks front and rear, ladder bars—the works. And, it’s all sitting on top of a set of meaty 44” inch Monster-Mudder tires. These babies are so big that the Mud-Slinger practically floats over the bogs. Plus, I like the ruckus they make when those gnarly treads start clawing the pavement.
 
Of course, the Monster-Mudders are what started this ticket trouble in the first place. You see, the local deputy sheriff, Deputy Conner, is also a local mud bogger. He’s one of those snivelers that me and the Slinger end up winching from the muck. Deputy Conner drives some panty-waist Jeep that he tries to pass off as a mud machine. Silly Conner, Jeeps are for girls.

This particular day, after tearing up the bog, I’m driving the Slinger home and notice flashing lights and the wail of a siren. I pulled to side and to my utter surprise Conner struts up sporting mirrored shades and a toothpick. He asks me for my license and registration and I remind this numbskull that he’s known me since the 4th grade. Conner puffed his chest trying to act all official like and asks me step from the vehicle. That’s when the trouble began.

Ten minutes, a slight scuffle and a few embarrassing bite marks later, Deputy Conner ends up writing me a ticket for having no mud flaps! I guess the Mudders stick out to far from the wheel wells. What the hey! I’m mean putting mud flaps on the Mud-Slinger is like non-alcoholic beer—what’s the point. Of course, the way things went down I’m lucky he didn’t take me down to the pokey for assaulting an officer.

So what now? I got the ticket which means I not only have to pay the $150 fine, I gotta install mud flaps to get my record cleared. So I went online and started shopping for flaps. I was amazed at how many styles there were to choose from: diamond plate, molded plastic, flat plastic and rubber. I decided on a rubber set built for duallies. The mudslinger ain’t no dually, but I figured the wider flap would cover those 44 inchers.

Installing the flaps was no problem, they bolted right up. I did have to do a little trimming since they were dually flaps, but that was no problem. They didn’t look bad and as I found out, they actually did some good. When I start slingin’, the flaps actually keep the mud from splattering all over the truck. I used to like that muddy look, but it was a hassle cleaning up afterward. Now, the mud stays off the truck and keeps the paint looking clean.

I went downtown sporting my new flaps and got the ticket written off. I’m still ticked at Conner but we worked it out. The next time he got that girly Jeep of his stuck in the bog, my winch mysteriously got jammed up and I couldn’t help him. He just sat there fuming mad while me and the boys loaded up and headed to the watering hole for a few post-bogging brews.

Whether you’re clearing fix-it tickets or just keeping your vehicle spic-n-span, a set of mud flaps is your ticket to cleanliness. There are few brands out there, I happen to order a set of Husky mud flaps. Good luck and I’ll see ya at the bogs. - David S. Brooks

Back in the ‘70s, I practically lived in my Dodge Tradesman, and I was incredibly popular with the lassies around Milwaukee. These days, though, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those coffins-on-wheels. Now, I’ve converted to SUV power, and my Excursion drips with muscle and masculinity. At least, that’s what I thought before I bolted on my Pacesetter air intake and popped in a Bully Dog chip. These upgrades nearly knocked my socks off.

Even before Scooby-Doo and their hippie-fied Mystery Machine skyrocketed to the pinnacle of popularity, I was a huge van fan. There was just something about the elongated, cylindrical shape that made my mouth water. When I was a sophomore, I took up a humiliating job at a local fish-fry just so I could save up enough bread to buy my first van. A year and a lot of forearm burns later, I was the proud owner of my very own Dodge Tradesman. The old girl was pretty beat up, but I poured every spare dollar I had into tricking her out with all the accessories I could get my hands on. First, I installed a twin-size water bed into the rear. Then, I converted the side cabinetry into a wet bar. After that came the shag carpet and stereo system. I finished it off with some velvet upholstery and incredibly opaque window tinting.

It goes without saying that my van made me a popular man around Milwaukee. Every Friday night, I would buzz over to the ice rink and park right up front. When the ladies heard my hi-fi blasting out Don’t Fear the Reaper, they knew to ditch their dates and come outside to me. I always kept the wet bar fully stocked with plenty of Coors and Schnapps, so it didn’t take long to get those girls to lose their inhibitions. Man, those were the days. Carefree and cool is the only way to live.

Unfortunately, times change, and so do girls’ tastes. About the time Reagan took office, owning a van was suddenly seen as a liability with the ladies. I didn’t want to turn my back on my Tradesman, though. She had been loyal to me, and I was going to be loyal to her in return. I tried adding on some new accessories, like a roof-mounted wing and some chrome windshield wipers, but all the girls simply sneered.

I was in the love doldrums until the turn of the millennium. I made a Y2K resolution to “get with the times, van man,” to use the parlance of the Denny’s waitress who turned down my invitation for an all-expenses-paid night out at the Red Lobster. As soon as my January 1st hangover wore off, I rolled over to the Ford dealership, said goodbye to my Tradesman, and drove home in my shiny new Excursion. From the moment I sat down behind the wheel, I was bowled over by the SUV power that my Ford pumped out. But I wanted more. So I recently installed a Pacesetter air intake and a Bully Dog performance chip, and I can barely control the explosive power of this SUV. And the love life is definitely on the upswing. What can I say—big automobiles are nature’s aphrodisiac.

Like Cher, I Wish I could turn back time and load my Tradesman with a Pacesetter air intake and a chip from Bully Dog. Pacesetter air intakes, Pacesetter air intake, Pacesetter AiR F/X Induction Systems , Pacesetter reviews, discount, cheap, free shipping, online shopping, lowest price

Back in the ‘70s, I practically lived in my Dodge Tradesman, and I was incredibly popular with the lassies around Milwaukee. These days, though, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those coffins-on-wheels. Now, I’ve converted to SUV power, and my Excursion drips with muscle and masculinity. At least, that’s what I thought before I bolted on my Pacesetter air intake and popped in a Bully Dog chip. These upgrades nearly knocked my socks off.

Even before Scooby-Doo and their hippie-fied Mystery Machine skyrocketed to the pinnacle of popularity, I was a huge van fan. There was just something about the elongated, cylindrical shape that made my mouth water. When I was a sophomore, I took up a humiliating job at a local fish-fry just so I could save up enough bread to buy my first van. A year and a lot of forearm burns later, I was the proud owner of my very own Dodge Tradesman. The old girl was pretty beat up, but I poured every spare dollar I had into tricking her out with all the accessories I could get my hands on. First, I installed a twin-size water bed into the rear. Then, I converted the side cabinetry into a wet bar. After that came the shag carpet and stereo system. I finished it off with some velvet upholstery and incredibly opaque window tinting.

It goes without saying that my van made me a popular man around Milwaukee. Every Friday night, I would buzz over to the ice rink and park right up front. When the ladies heard my hi-fi blasting out Don’t Fear the Reaper, they knew to ditch their dates and come outside to me. I always kept the wet bar fully stocked with plenty of Coors and Schnapps, so it didn’t take long to get those girls to lose their inhibitions. Man, those were the days. Carefree and cool is the only way to live.

Unfortunately, times change, and so do girls’ tastes. About the time Reagan took office, owning a van was suddenly seen as a liability with the ladies. I didn’t want to turn my back on my Tradesman, though. She had been loyal to me, and I was going to be loyal to her in return. I tried adding on some new accessories, like a roof-mounted wing and some chrome windshield wipers, but all the girls simply sneered.

I was in the love doldrums until the turn of the millennium. I made a Y2K resolution to “get with the times, van man,” to use the parlance of the Denny’s waitress who turned down my invitation for an all-expenses-paid night out at the Red Lobster. As soon as my January 1st hangover wore off, I rolled over to the Ford dealership, said goodbye to my Tradesman, and drove home in my shiny new Excursion. From the moment I sat down behind the wheel, I was bowled over by the SUV power that my Ford pumped out. But I wanted more. So I recently installed a Pacesetter air intake and a Bully Dog performance chip, and I can barely control the explosive power of this SUV. And the love life is definitely on the upswing. What can I say—big automobiles are nature’s aphrodisiac.

Like Cher, I Wish I could turn back time and load my Tradesman with a Pacesetter air intake and a chip from Bully Dog. Pacesetter air intakes, Pacesetter air intake, Pacesetter AiR F/X Induction Systems , Pacesetter reviews, discount, cheap, free shipping, online shopping, lowest price

Back in the ‘70s, I practically lived in my Dodge Tradesman, and I was incredibly popular with the lassies around Milwaukee. These days, though, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those coffins-on-wheels. Now, I’ve converted to SUV power, and my Excursion drips with muscle and masculinity. At least, that’s what I thought before I bolted on my Pacesetter air intake and popped in a Bully Dog chip. These upgrades nearly knocked my socks off.

Even before Scooby-Doo and their hippie-fied Mystery Machine skyrocketed to the pinnacle of popularity, I was a huge van fan. There was just something about the elongated, cylindrical shape that made my mouth water. When I was a sophomore, I took up a humiliating job at a local fish-fry just so I could save up enough bread to buy my first van. A year and a lot of forearm burns later, I was the proud owner of my very own Dodge Tradesman. The old girl was pretty beat up, but I poured every spare dollar I had into tricking her out with all the accessories I could get my hands on. First, I installed a twin-size water bed into the rear. Then, I converted the side cabinetry into a wet bar. After that came the shag carpet and stereo system. I finished it off with some velvet upholstery and incredibly opaque window tinting.

It goes without saying that my van made me a popular man around Milwaukee. Every Friday night, I would buzz over to the ice rink and park right up front. When the ladies heard my hi-fi blasting out Don’t Fear the Reaper, they knew to ditch their dates and come outside to me. I always kept the wet bar fully stocked with plenty of Coors and Schnapps, so it didn’t take long to get those girls to lose their inhibitions. Man, those were the days. Carefree and cool is the only way to live.

Unfortunately, times change, and so do girls’ tastes. About the time Reagan took office, owning a van was suddenly seen as a liability with the ladies. I didn’t want to turn my back on my Tradesman, though. She had been loyal to me, and I was going to be loyal to her in return. I tried adding on some new accessories, like a roof-mounted wing and some chrome windshield wipers, but all the girls simply sneered.

I was in the love doldrums until the turn of the millennium. I made a Y2K resolution to “get with the times, van man,” to use the parlance of the Denny’s waitress who turned down my invitation for an all-expenses-paid night out at the Red Lobster. As soon as my January 1st hangover wore off, I rolled over to the Ford dealership, said goodbye to my Tradesman, and drove home in my shiny new Excursion. From the moment I sat down behind the wheel, I was bowled over by the SUV power that my Ford pumped out. But I wanted more. So I recently installed a Pacesetter air intake and a Bully Dog performance chip, and I can barely control the explosive power of this SUV. And the love life is definitely on the upswing. What can I say—big automobiles are nature’s aphrodisiac.

Like Cher, I Wish I could turn back time and load my Tradesman with a Pacesetter air intake and a chip from Bully Dog. Pacesetter air intakes, Pacesetter air intake, Pacesetter AiR F/X Induction Systems , Pacesetter reviews, discount, cheap, free shipping, online shopping, lowest price

Bothered by your car’s unsightly display of splattered bug guts?  Bug deflectors are an effective tool for protecting your vehicle’s appearance.

If you have ever taken a road trip, your vehicle has probably met a few bugs along the way.  Windshield wipers are useless when it comes to clearing bug gunk.  In fact, they usually streak and cloud your glass, making it even harder to see.

When you’re on vacation, going to the car wash is the last thing on your mind.  Besides wasting valuable time, getting your car washed isn’t cheap.  Last time I was over at the local “Clean N Care” I got roped into buying the “deluxe” package, which cost me $29.95!  My head started spinning just thinking about how much money I will spend on car washes this year.  

Bug deflectors are a good investment.  With the money you would spend on a few trips to the car wash, you could buy yourself a bug deflector, which will then save you time and money. 

Worried that bug deflectors don’t match your car’s image? You can find a variety of bug deflectors to match your style.  They range in size, shape, color—you can even find chrome bug deflectors.  Adding a sleek smoke colored bug guard can add unique styling to your ride.

They are extremely easy to install. You won’t have to pay installation fees.  It will help having a friend assist with centering the guard, but besides that you can install by yourself in a matter of minutes.

An important step that most people forget is cleaning the hood.  You don’t want any dirt of grim on the surface where you will be applying the adhesive.  You can use an alcohol pad or a degreaser product for this step.

Once the area is clean, make sure it is completely dry.  Deflectors come with a variety of mounting pieces.  What’s great about bug deflectors is that there is no drilling involved.  That’s right, just a strong adhesive will be securing the guard, so there won’t be any nasty holes in your hood should you decide to take it off.

Your bug guard kit should come with its own mounting pieces.  Some products come with circular pieces that are sticky on one side and Velcro on the other. For some guards you will just use heavy duty 3M tape.  If yours comes with the Velcro system, make sure the two pieces are stuck together and unpeel only one of the backings.  Stick them (together) onto your hood.  You do not want to apply the pieces to the guard and the hood separately because it will be nearly impossible to line them up straight.

This is where the friend comes in handy.  After all the sticky pieces are attached to your hood, you are ready to stick on the bug guard.  It helps to have someone eyeing the placement from a distance to make sure it goes on straight.  You can also make little pencil markings on each side to check if it is aligned.

The installation is almost complete.  You just need to attach a few small rubber bumpers behind the ends of the bug guard.  These will stop the edges of your deflector from hitting your hood at high speeds. 

You’re done!  It was that simple.  And bug deflectors are constructed from quality stainless steel or scratch resistant acrylic, which means you won’t have to go replacing it anytime soon.

You can shop for all your road trip needs online. Find everything from Bug Deflectors to Roof Racks for your specific vehicle. –Mike Rosania

This week I will be walking you through a basic air filter change.  Clogged filters can affect performance, cost you at the pump, and even shorten engine life.  It’s quick, cheap, and your car will thank you. 

Changing your air filter should be a familiar and comfortable process; if it’s not, you’ve come to the right place.  It’s inexpensive, easy and can play a big role in vehicle performance.  You are probably wondering, “But how will I know when to change the filter? I’m no mechanic!”  Well bewildered reader, a good rule of thumb is once or twice a year, or roughly every 12,000 miles.  But keep in mind that your environment can affect this.  Obviously daily dirt road driving will require you to replace your filter more often than Sunday driving in the city.

If nothing else, learn to change your own air filter.  It’s so easy and saves you money.

Can you remember your last visit to Jiffy Lube for an oil change?  These guys always hit you up with the patented, “You really need a new air filter” line. And you’re left wondering, “Do I really need a new one?  What should I do?  Can I really trust this guy?”  If in your shock, you utter “Ok,” the mechanic then adds another set of fees for labor, parts, and a new air filter, whose brand is usually a mystery.

Now you can stick it to the man and simply say, “No thanks, I will do it myself.” That is if, in fact, it really needs to be done.

It’s time to get down and dirty.  Park your car in a shaded area and let it cool for a few minutes—you don’t want to be working with a steaming engine that can potentially burn you; i.e. don’t change your filter after a six hour road trip.

You will need very few tools for this procedure.  If possible grab two medium-sized screwdrivers, one Philips and one standard.

The air filter is typically enclosed in a black plastic casing near the top of the engine.  In larger vehicles, it may be off to the side.  It is usually the largest non-metal assembly you see; approximately the size of a bread box.

Most air boxes are held together by a couple of large metal clips on the side.  Either pop off the clips or slide the flat-head screwdriver between the casing and the clip and pry the clip off.  Occasionally you will find the top is held down by several long screws, in which case you simply unscrew them to access the filter.

Pop the air box top off and expose the secrets of the all mighty air box.  Basically, you will find the air filter—riveting, I know.  It’s usually bright yellow or orange or red, to better see collected dirt.

Pull it out.  It’s typically one foot by six inches and has rubber edges along the bottom. 

To check for cleanliness, hold it up and bend it back, so the paper ridges of the filter flutter like pages in a book.  Now look in the crevices and look at all the dirt and grime it stopped from entering your engine.  Pretty cool, huh?  Hold the filter at arms length and look at it straight on.  If the colored paper is mostly dirty in the center than it is time to replace it.  Guess how much this will cost you– About $5; a lot less than Jiffy Lube.

You can throw the old filter in a plastic bag and bring it to your local auto part store to make sure you get the right replacement.  Or you can save time by ordering a new one online.  You can now stand proud and confidently say, “I know how to check and replace my air filter.”  And damn it feels good.

From K&N to Volant filters, you really can’t go wrong with any name brand air filter. You may also want to consider upgrading to a Volant cold air intake for added sound and performance. –Mike Rosania

I recently drove across the country, from Jersey to California, with two of my good friends.  We took route 80 straight across until we hit Nebraska and cruised down through Denver then Vegas and finally landed in San Diego.  We packed pretty well for the trip, but if I could do it again I would get a bug deflector.

The time had finally come when I had graduated college and it was time to enter the cruel working world.  I have always been under the financial umbrella of my parents so naturally I was freaked out.  A man can live on Ramen and Peanut Butter and Jelly for only so long.  Well, I figured that if I’m going to be poor, I might as well have a godo time.  I talked it over with two of my good friends and we all agreed that we weren’t ready to get jobs.  This was the birth of the road trip idea.  We had been in school for years; studying day in and day out, and it was time to cut loose.  We understood the reality that we would eventually need to get jobs, but we weren’t going out without a fight; not without having a crazy adventure to send us off into the workforce.

We decided to take the northern route, which led us out of the armpit of a state we call New Jersey and on our way to Cleveland where we stopped briefly.  From there we enjoyed the windy city; spent some time in Chicago chowing down on some deep dish pizzas.  Next, we camped under the starlight sky in Nebraska—the scenery was stunning.  Besides the occasional wrong turn, our first problem didn’t arise until that brisk Nebraska morning.  We awoke in the morning to find ourselves covered in bug bites.  The bites weren’t too painful, just annoying and embarrassing.  We pretty much kissed goodbye to any chances of meeting some sweet country girls, since it looked as if we had chicken pox.  The drive that day was beautiful, but when we stopped for gas I noticed that the car’s hood was plastered with dried bug remains—blood, guts, and miscellaneous insect parts.  Sounds appetizing doesn’t it?  We tried to wipe them off at the gas station with the window sponges but no dice.  Those pesky insects didn’t budge.  I was starting to think they were never coming off and they were going to be permanently engraved on my hood, forever reminding us of our bug attack in Nebraska. But we ended up finding a car wash in Vegas and they came right off.  Vegas was insane and as much as I’d love to share, I need to follow the rules, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”  But I will say that after the trip we were ready to take a good shower and relax for a while.  I definitely suggest taking a cross country trip; just make sure you do it with your best friends.  Otherwise, you won’t make it out alive.

Oh yea, and if you are interested in taking the trip, I really recommend picking up a bug deflector. I ended up getting one of the Lund bug deflectors, but I’ m sure you can find a ton of good ones online. See you in the working world. -Mike Rosania

You would think that a minor childhood trauma like being locked inside an oven that was then turned on would not scar a person too badly. But ever since that fateful afternoon, I’ve had an uncontrollable fear of tight places. However, I heard on an episode of Dr. Phil that the best way to overcome these mental weaknesses is to face our nightmares. And that’s exactly what I did—with a truck tool box.

As a youngster growing up in Wichita, the golden bosom of our glorious heartland, fear was practically unknown to my pure mind. Sure, I was mindful of papa’s belt and my older brother’s killer wedgies. But I wouldn’t think twice about climbing the tallest tree on our property, and I never needed a nightlight to fall soundly asleep. Unfortunately, reality is a coarse towel soaked in icy ocean water, and once it’s flung in your face, you’ll never be able to close your eyes to its briny sting ever again.

For me, I lost my childhood innocence on Flag Day, 1968. Dwight, my crafty older brother, and I were looking for an excuse to get out of our morning chores. We realized that we wouldn’t have to sweep and dress the chickens for the night’s patriotic feast if no one could find us to ask. So we split up to make ourselves invisible. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I decided that the oven would be the perfect place to hide. I guess I’ve always thought that freshly baked bread looks like the most contented food in the kitchen, so I must have wanted to feel like a bun. No matter the reason, I climbed into that cast iron coffin and couldn’t help but snicker thinking about how cleaver I was. Well, my ma got the last laugh. About twenty minutes into my stint, she decided to start baking her famous rutabaga cobbler. I didn’t realize it, but she turned that stove up to 375, and I started to sweat buckets. At first, I thought it was my conscience working me over for ditching out on my chores. But once my sneakers started melting and my nose was filled with the reek of singed hair, I bolted out of that hot box like a Brit from a dentist. Needless to say, I couldn’t even eat a hot supper for a month afterwards, and I never felt comfortable in confined spaces or around blow driers again.

Three decades and 4 failed marriages later, I decided it was time to work past that childhood trauma. Now, I wasn’t crazy enough to climb into another oven, so I started looking around online for a decent substitute. That’s when I ran across some sites pushing truck tool boxes. I figured that would work pretty well, so I set about finding the right one for my needs. Though Dee Zee tool boxes got a lot of rave reviews for their ingenious AlumaGuard latch design, I went with a Deflecta-Shield, which had enough elbow room to house my adult frame. It arrived a few days later and fit right into the rear of my Ranger. Of course, I powered through a half-pack of Winstons and a quart of rye before I had the courage to face my fears. But by that last pull off my bottle, I was ready. I climbed in, closed the lid, and stared down my demons.

And it worked! There was just one problem. I didn’t think that there wouldn’t be a release button inside the tool box, so I was stuck in there for 16 hours before my neighbor heard my screams. The good news is that I went out and bought my very first over. However, now I can’t even walk past a tool box without getting the sweats. Oh well.

My Choice of Truck tool boxes narrowed down to one from Dee Zee or Deflecta-Shield.

California has a unique freeway system.  Drivers have to stop at a traffic light before entering the freeway.  I drive a Toyota Corolla, which means every trip is a near death experience as I merge into a line of speeding trucks.  I bought a performance chip and now I don’t need to bring a change of underwear on my morning commute.

I recently moved to California from the east coast.  Although I love the climate change and abundance of beautiful beach babes, I’m not too thrilled about California’s unique freeway system.  I can still remember my first experience like it was yesterday; actually it was last week.  I had just gotten to California and was headed to the beach to go surfing.  So I’m cruising on the 8, about to get onto the 15. I look down at my map to check what exit I want to get off at. I glance back up to see red; the brake lights of cars stopped in front of me.  Thank god for ABS.  I slammed my brakes and stopped just in time to avoid crashing into a Ford F150.  “Great, now I’m going to sit in traffic all day,” I thought.  As the line of cars slowly crept forward I could see a light in the distance.  Is that a police car? Maybe, it’s an ambulance? When I got closer I could see that the light was actually a traffic light.  This was the first time I have ever seen a traffic light on a freeway entrance.  I finally reached the light, which turned green for two seconds, and hit the gas.  I was giving my Corolla full throttle, but it wasn’t speeding up quick enough.  Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see the driver of the BMW behind me mouthing curses.  The lane started to approach the highway and I wasn’t going nearly as fast as the flow of traffic.  Apparently, California drivers have lead-foot syndrome.  My lane was merging and truck in the lane next to me that was going at least 30mphs faster than me had to slam on his brakes.  The driver thought it wouldn’t be enough to just curse, so I had a great view of his middle finger when he switched lanes and blew past me.  Now I’m not a slow driver, but let’s face it, a Corolla isn’t a race car.  I ended up making it to the beach in one piece, but I needed to find a solution if I was going to be taking the freeway to work everyday.

I talked to my brother-in-law, who is a mechanic, about my problem.  Basically, he gave me two options.  I could either buy a new car or make my car faster.  I definitely was not ready to buy a new car, especially with all my moving bills.  And the last thing I wanted was to be driving around a “rice rocket” or anything that looked like it came from the Fast and the Furious. He suggested adding a performance chip.  He had installed a few recently and said that they fine-tune your engine to increase performance.  The result is a boost in horsepower, which means some lickety-split acceleration for me.

My brother-in-law suggested getting an Edge Evolution or SCT livewire performance programmer. I ending up going with the Edge Evolution and have seen a big improvement in my car’s pick up. Phew! Eat my dust trucks…Or at least don’t run me over.

Up here in the Bozone, which is what we call Bozeman, Montana, the weather gets pretty nasty. Snow, rain and the occasional mudslide keep folks with big trucks pretty busy towing city folk tourists out of the muck. In order to keep your rig on the giving end of these messy rescues, make sure you equip it with some super diesel power.

These days, a big diesel rig is an indispensable part of country living. You can load it up with feed, lumber, livestock—whatever—with nary a squat. A diesel truck will go just about anywhere; they get relatively good mileage for the horsepower and the torque rating is more akin to a bulldozer than a work truck. Plus, in a pinch or when the stuff goes down, you can run the thing on vegetable oil, really.

Now up here in the “Valley of the flowers,” folks are living the quintessential country life. There are lots of ranches and farms, dirt roads and swimming holes. And, being so far north they get lots and lots of snow. Now the average Bozemanite isn’t phased by the fluffy white stuff, but those city slickers that come up to hit the slopes are constantly getting their Subarus and Volvos stuck in the muck. Since the folks in Bozeman are so neighborly, they take it upon themselves to help these helpless yuppies.

Massive diesel power is the order for the day when you’re plucking tourists from snow banks. Even though a late model diesel rig comes equipped with horsepower and torque out the wazoo, some of us feel it’s not enough. Natural tinkerers, Bozemanites are always looking for more power. As far as diesels go, there’s finally a healthy aftermarket industry devoted to bringing out the best these oil-burning monsters have to offer.

The best part is all this power can be had by installing a few bolt-on parts. Intake kits, exhaust systems and power programmers are plentiful and easy to install. A few basic tools, a couple cold beers and a free afternoon are all you need to transform your rig from factory to ferocious. Installing all three of these components will add more horsepower than a Crown Vic even comes with and enough torque to power a tugboat.

This is the kind of power you need to pull citified station wagons and their goofy drivers from the crud. Hitch that Bimmer up to the bumper of your 500 horsepower mean machine and give Mr. CEO and his family the ride of their lives. In fact, you might even give his wife a little wink and a lesson on the kind of vehicles real men drive.

Beside pulling helpless executives from the mud, your hot-rod diesel can be a lot of fun at the track. Diesel drags are all the rage up here in Bozeman, in fact, it seems like the entire great white north is addicted to buckling the blacktop. Those hosers up in Canada love this stuff and they make a great majority of the performance exhaust systems at MBRP.

Diesel rigs are all the rage and a souped up truck can make even a simple commute a total blast. The performance parts are easy to come by and all the big-time performance names have thrown their hats into the diesel arena. If you’re out in the middle of nowhere, check the internet. It’s chock full of diesel speed shops and the miracle of UPS means your parts are on your doorstep in a few days. Then, you too can be the hometown hero pulling yuppies from the mud.

The most effective bolt-on diesel part is a custom diesel exhaust. They let the engine breathe the way it should to give you massive power gains. The easiest addition is the power programmer. All of them, like the one from Predator Performance simply plug into your OBD-II port and deliver a power wallop in a matter of minutes.- David S. Brooks