I wasn’t really expecting a kaboom, blood, nor flames when I decide to DIY retrofit my grill. I expected a few trips to the hardware store then back to BBQ in no time.
The stakes weren’t that high. The grill was a dozen years old and had served me well through many meals. Juicy burgers, piles of chicken, and skewered vegetables had all felt the heat. Appetites satiated, stories told, beers tipped, over the years I got whatever money’s worth I paid in August of 2008.
The sparky thing stopped sparking a decade ago, so I used a long lighter, which incidentally I believe is actually designed as a replacement for sparky things. My favorite burner valve had began to stiffen a couple three years ago, so I did what most men would do, I muscled up and twisted the knob harder. My grill was a well designed stainless steel resilient roasting machine. Each time we found ourselves challenged by physics or mechanical failure we adapted and adjusted to finish the feast. Time was however, now running out. Metaphorical bailing wire & literal duct tape could no longer keep the home fires burning. I had to consider buying new.
My cursory price research quickly encouraged me to not be to hasty on a replacement purchase. Did you know grills can cost near a grand? And that’s nowhere even near the top end! I regrouped. My initial clever plan went like this. Only one valve is smoked, and I only use three out of the five identical looking knobs, so I’ll take one of the two from either the unused rotisserie gizmo or side burner, swap it out and get back in business. As with all my back of the envelope and bar napkin plans it sounded good on paper.
As I pealed away layers of grill like an ogre, the job got tougher and dirtier but I pressed on. The stripped screw death count began to rise, I called in the vise grips. Knuckle busting bolts gave way too easily, I used unique combinations of curse words I hadn’t thought possible. My first plan worked fine until the I tried to light it and flames started shooting out like a Minneapolis police station. While not an ideal signal, it did hint that further work and investment were required.
I entered the letters cast on the valves into the internet and found I could get three for about 75 bucks, but, they were on back order. Since patience is not a virtue I have in spades, I checked Amazon. Though the price was now $100 I’d have them next day. In a rare moment of clarity, I decide while I had it disassembled and scattered across the yard that I would replace the burners, shields and whatnot for another $30. Even when factoring in taxes, band-aids, and burn ointment I was still 15% of new grill price.
Everything arrived right on time and nothing quite fit. Burner ports needed enlarging, and when I went to assemble, some of the holes were gone. Part of my Chinese supply chain sent new fasteners, other suppliers seemed to suggest I screw myself. While I didn’t have all the right tools for the job, I pressed on with hammers, vise grips, and drills. After the little fire event, my lovely bride seemed to stay nearer by with much more interest than she displayed initially. When she offered to help during the heated stainless steel vs. cobalt drill battle I let her know she could help most from farther away.
This was a solo mission.
I re-assembled the third, fifth, and sixth times with more success. I drilled this assembly into my head so thoroughly I could do it blindfolded like a marine and their rifle. We finished in non record time with some pieces missing and left over, looking a little worse for wear, but we sure can cook.
We hear of retail therapy, or the joy of shopping, but in this case it couldn’t top the happiness of being productive, nor the $842 I saved burning a hole in my pocket.
Sometimes it takes fire, bleeding, and swearing for good things to happen.