I don’t blame Super Terry, really.
He tried his best. He spent hours replacing the burned out motor in our air conditioner, and it seemed to work in heat pump mode when we tested it. But as he joked, it had the “taillight warranty” — when he can’t see my taillights anymore, the warranty is over.
We’re 489 miles from his view now, near Birmingham AL, and I just turned on the air conditioner to remove some of the intense humidity we are feeling tonight. It blew warm for a few minutes, cooled down a little, and then started blowing very warm humid air. … sigh…
We did a quick telephone consultation but the consensus is: “He’s dead, Jim.”
(note to non-geeks and those under age 45: That’s a Star Trek joke)
The full post-mortem hasn’t been done but it doesn’t matter, because I’m out of cheap options. We aren’t going to repair this air conditioner at shop rates. At six years old, it has gone Tango Uniform. Farewell, Dometic Penguin — you are already missed, on this humid night in an Alabama state park.
I would like to wait until later this winter to replace it, but we also use the Airstream as a guest apartment and we have people slated to arrive in October, which is still air conditioning season in Tucson. Somewhere in the next 1,900 miles I’ll find a good deal on a replacement unit (probably a 15k BTU air conditioner without heat pump) and we’ll do a swap. That’s a topic I’ll start researching in the next few days.