I want to change my 4 cylinder jeep engine out. IT is a 2000 jeep wrangler. The reason for changin would be because it is not that powerful because i am running 33's. I would like to change it out to maybe a mercedes benz 4 cylinder diesel engine?? Do
If you have to ask if you "need to change the transmission or anything or driveshafts to run this set up" you probally don't need to try to swap a diesel in your Jeep. This is no where near a direct bolt in, not even CLOSE! Your best and cheapest
BlueJeeper | Mar 15, 2009
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NORTHERN JAEGER – SAMPLE CHAPTER PART 2
Preface: this is a first draft version of my second sample chapter from my memoir. which can be summarized as a young man’s journey of self discovery set against the turbulent backdrop of the alaskan fishing industry. This chapter takes place immediately following sample chapter part 1.В read @ your leisure, enjoy and let me know what you think. Please let me know what works, what doesn’t, if it makes sense or if its just shit all together. Thanks!
“Come on in fellas”, Ray the fishmeal technician said as he moved his arm in a sweeping motion to the lit door ahead of us.
The four of us Byron, Fire Crotch, myself and Ed stepped into a space just big enough for us to stand single file. Immediately I felt the skin on the inside of my nostrils tighten and crack. Around us were white plastic sacks about the size and shape of a bag of dog food each weighing eighty pounds and filled with dried fish flakes better known as fishmeal. The bags were stacked wall-to-wall, floor to ceiling. A thin pathway ran from the door we had passed through to the center of the room where a black rubber conveyor belt cut through the ceiling at a forty-five degree angle. The air in the fishmeal hold was hot and dry, yet another unique microclimate onboard the Northern Jaeger. It also carried with it the reek of concentrated fish oil. The stench permeated the air, our hair, and our flesh. It surrounded us like an invisible prison and penetrated our every crevice.
“Alright for those of you unfamiliar with what needs to happen pay close attention cause I’m only gonna say this once”, Ray growled at us as he stroked the sweaty hamster that passed for a moustache on his upper lip, “I need you, the four of you to walk to the conveyor belt in the center of the hold and start piggy-backing this heap of heavy white bastards onto said conveyor belt. Any questions?”
There were none. We all knew the routine and what needed to happen. Hell, Ray didn’t even have to give us instructions we could have figured it out on our very own. It’s not like we were standing in a white tiled room wearing lab coats staring at bubbling beakers trying to find a cure for stupidity. We were in a steel walled room thirty feet wide by fifty feet long by eight feet high crammed with tightly filled white eighty-pound plastic bags of goldfish food that needed to get off the ship. I’m pretty sure we could of Scooby-Doo’d it and solved the mystery of how to get those heavy white bags out of the dastardly fishmeal hold.
