Sprayed Hard and Hung Up Wet, or How I Learned to Read the Owner's Manual!

Life’s little embarrassing moments… what would we do without them? You know what I mean: those precious little events that serve to either drive us completely around the bend, or teach us a valuable lesson. My life is replete with little situations, many of them humorous, where something I did... or perhaps didn’t do... furthered the cause of self-education…

Case in point: hearken back with me, if you will, to a sultry Sunday afternoon late last summer.

Here I am, staring at the mildew-encrusted floor boards on the rear deck attached to our newly purchased house. Located in an idyllic woodland setting, our new home is surrounded by tall trees that keep our deck drenched in shade during nearly all hours of daylight. This year, we've had an absolutely miserable spring and early summer in Midcoast Maine. Something like 45 straight days of rain, fog, drizzle, mist, and unseasonably cool temperatures have plagued us. The result: lots of damp, ugly, mildewy... STUFF... clings stubbornly and verdantly to almost every square inch of the deck floor.

On this particular Sunday, there's finally been a break in the weather! Bright sunshine and warmth abound, but it's very muggy. I decide it’s probably a good day to tackle a clean-up of that rear deck. A pressure washer is probably the fastest and least painful way to get rid of all that "scunge." I pay a visit to our local hardware store and rent one of their gasoline-powered pressure washers for what I hope will be a quick and easy clean-up. If all goes well, I should be done in time to watch my beloved Red Sox play on my high definition TV...

Now up to this point, I’ve never even seen a pressure washer up close, much less used one. “Yeah, right,” I think when I first spy the small, nondescript piece of equipment the hardware store clerk loads, along with its user’s manual, into the back of my car. "This thing is supposed to take every bit of that scum off my deck?!?” It looks like nothing more than a 5-horsepower four-cycle engine with a pump attached to the bottom of it, mounted to a red two-wheeled cart with a handle on top. Connected to the pump is a 15-foot high pressure hose and wand assembly. A pair of safety goggles hangs from the cart’s handle.

“This thing,” I muse aloud to my wife, once I have the pressure washer set out on my rear deck, “doesn’t look like it’s capable of getting the dirt off my car!!" But, hey... the job’s gotta get done, so here goes...

The pressure washer takes about 15 seconds to put to rest forever my skepticism over its capabilities. It is one powerful little machine!! It supplies water at up to 2,400 pounds per square inch (psi) and a rate of 2.2 gallons per minute... more than enough pressure to accomplish my desired task! I can select from a variety of spray patterns. There’s even a low pressure setting that allows me to spray water in a stream gentle enough to water the lawn and garden, or wash the family car. It’s easy to set up and start...

Of course, I don’t know any of these things when I begin my task. With typical mkp1151 bull-headedness, and despite having never used a pressure washer before, I charge right into the fray with only a cursory glance at that owner’s manual that came with the machine.

“Hmmm... this should be easy enough to figure out... lessee... the water supply obviously attaches here, on the bottom. Easy enough... an ordinary garden hose does the trick!! Turn the water on before starting the engine... remove wand from high pressure hose before starting the first time, to allow pressure build-up inside pump... move choke adjustment lever to 'start' position… hold starter safety handle… pull starter ro-- WHOOPS!!”

Now... here’s where I probably should have stopped and read the manual. Man, does that starter rope pull hard!! And that blasted engine is almost impossible to start. For ten minutes, after pulling and pulling and pulling and pulling on the starter rope, and making a plethora of adjustments to the choke lever, and uttering a multitude of four-letter Anglo-Saxon adverbs, I finally get the engine to sputter and spit and cough, then finally, reluctantly, wheeze to life. WHEW!! If it’s gonna take that much effort to start this thing every time, maybe I better go and get a wire brush, a bucket of soapy water, and some rubber gloves...

Once I get the machine started, I re-attach the wand, select my spray pattern with a quick turn of the yellow adjustment handle on the end of the wand, and begin attacking the deck. Amazingly enough, the spray stream lifts every bit of that thick mildew from the surface... along with about ¼ inch of the wood as well!! My first pass with the wand results in a nice, 6-inch long, ¼-inch deep gouge in the wood. I guess I need to play with that spray pattern a little...

Pretty soon, I’m getting the hang of things. I adjust the spray pattern to a flat fan, making it look a bit like the blade of a putty knife. I discover that by holding the wand about eight inches from the deck, and moving it back and forth like a paint scraper, the dark green moldy film lifts from the deck with almost no effort and no damage to the wood. The power washer seems to get all but the most stubborn spots with almost no effort.

Thirty minutes elapse. Suddenly, the engine sputters and dies. I’m outta gas already?!? I refill the tank, then... the dreaded pull after pull after pull of the #$%&*@ starter rope to get the #$%&*@ thing started again. Man, there’s just #$%&*@ gotta be an easier #$%&*@ way!!

After six hours of power washing, I find that I’ve completely cleaned an four-foot by two-foot area of a sixteen-foot by twelve-foot deck. Obviously, this is gonna be very time consuming!! There’s just gotta be a better way. By now it’s getting dark. Oh well, I’m on vacation all next week. I’ll try again tomorrow...

Next morning, I'm back at it. And then next day, and the next day after that. Six 6-hour days it takes me to completely clean the deck! Slow, tedious, backbreaking work. Work immeasurably hampered by my inability to get the little power washer started and keep it running.

It wasn’t until day five of this project that good ol’ mkp1151 finally decides that he’s had enough of this agonizingly difficult startup procedure; he decides to actually... wait for it... open the owner’s manual and read it in detail. Sure enough: right there on page three of the book, in bold print, are these words:

Grasp the spray gun with your left hand and squeeze the trigger. Water will flow out of the gun in a thin stream. Continue to squeeze the trigger with your left hand as you pull the starter rope. Pull slowly until you feel some resistance; then pull rapidly.

I try it. One quick pull of the rope, and voila!! the little engine eagerly jumps to life! I’m off and running!!

So, friends, there is a moral to my story here: Next time you buy or rent anything with more than one moving part, look for an owner’s manual. And please... if you find one: heed the words usually found on page 1: READ THESE DIRECTIONS CAREFULLY BEFORE USING THIS EQUIPMENT.

Your back... and your pride... will be eternally grateful to you when you do.

Now I’m off to try out my new chain saw... Geez, now what’d I do with that owner's manual?!!?