Crankshaft Chronicles: Need Some Trailer Wiring? Let Me Get the Wine.

It was June of 2014, and we were preparing our 1995 Suzuki Sidekick, affectionately known as The Teal Terror, to make the 600-mile round-trip trek from our home in Portland, OR, to the Northwest Overland Rally in Plain, WA, and back. I needed to set up a booth at the event and work the show for my employer, Bushwacker (as in the fender flares). The pop-up tent and booth weren’t going to fit inside a subcompact two-door SUV. What I needed was a small trailer. But before that, I needed some trailer wiring for the SUV. That should be easy enough, right?

Trailer Wiring Made Easy With Rosé Wine

I had bought trailer wiring for the Sidekick, but I didn’t know much about wiring anything on a car at that time. So, I called my friend, Scott, and he said, “C’mon over, we can do it here. It’s super easy.”

I pulled in front of Scott’s garage. It was a warm evening, and he said, “Hey, should we open a bottle of rosé?” I thought, why not?

We pulled the rear taillights, tapped into their circuits, and tested to ensure my turn signals and brake lights worked, and they did. Easy-peasy indeed. That bottle of rosé went down pretty easily, too. Look, we might sound highfalutin, sipping our rosé while working on a shitbox 4×4, but hey, cold pink wine ain’t bad on a warm day, and I’m not even going to sugarcoat it. Go ahead; judge me.

A Borrowed Trailer For First-Time Towing

We didn’t own a trailer. Instead, our neighbors offered me theirs for the event. It was a Harbor Freight-style trailer with the little white wheels and ubiquitous fading red frame. They’d added wooden sides, a spoiler-like rear section (so they could see the trailer’s end), and a gray tarp. The trailer had rarely been used, but spent plenty of time sitting on their property. But hey, it should work, and we only need it for four days. It’d be light enough that the Sidekick—all 95 HP of it—should be able to easily tow it. Mercedes and I hitched it up, loaded it, and strapped the tarp down. The next morning, we were off.

The drive to Plain, WA took us on Interstate 84 through the Columbia River Gorge, up US Highway 97, and over a number of passes before reaching Plain, located outside of the Bavarian-like town of Leavenworth, WA.

We cruised around 65 MPH on I-84, and the Suzuki towed without issue. But we did notice the trailer’s wooden bits moving around quite a bit. We stopped for fuel, and everything felt pretty loose. Eeek; there seemed to be quite a bit of dry-rotted wood. I hope it stays together! We took some straps and bungee cords and ratcheted things together.

Now With 100% Less Horn and Dome Light

At some point, I noticed the Sidekick’s horn and dome light stopped working. I had an aftermarket steering wheel, and I figured the horn connection must be borked. The dome light? Probably just burned out. Oh well; I’ll figure it out later. We arrived at the event’s field, set the booth up, and got ready for the first day of the rally.

During the event, we went for a group trail ride to an abandoned mining town and took the Suzuki. After seeing the place, we headed back down the dusty trail. A guy in a massive German firetruck turned overland rig was behind me. It was super dusty, and he gave me lots of following distance. As we came to the stop sign at the trail’s end, I saw him come up quickly and swerve past me, then jam on his brakes. Eeek! I wonder if he lost his brakes? Maybe he didn’t see me. That was too close.

Back to Portland: Will the Trailer Make it?

The rally was a lot of fun, and we met loads of new friends. We packed up the rickety trailer and began the drive back, hoping it’d hold together. We had an exceptional headwind through the Columbia River Gorge. The Sidekick couldn’t even reach the speed limit due to the excessive gusts. In search of relief, we crossed the Columbia River and went from I-84 in Oregon to US Highway 14 on the Washington side. Instead of a 65 MPH speed limit, it was 55, and there was less traffic. Thankfully, this worked.

Troublesome Tailgaters, and the Reason Why

People were constantly tailgating me on the way back from the rally. What gives? I put the brakes on, and people are right up on me. Back off!

We rolled into Portland on I-84, and traffic is snarled. Still, people would not back off from me! Is it my trailer? Are people just assholes? At the I-84/I-5 split, I looked in my rearview mirror to see a car coming in hot. “Please don’t rear-end us, please don’t rear-end us, please don’t rear-end us,” I thought. They jammed on their brakes and didn’t hit us. Just get me home!

Exhausted from a difficult drive filled with wind, a screaming Sidekick engine, and a trailer that was ready to fall apart, we rolled into the driveway. We were perplexed about the tailgating, however. Maybe we should test the brake lights on the trailer. Mercedes hopped out, I put the brake lights on, and nothing. Shit. I had no brake lights. That would explain why people came up on me so quickly, and why I almost got rear-ended.

I determined the cause was a blown fuse; a fuse that had the dome light, the horn, and the brake lights on its circuit. I replaced the fuse, but the moment we tapped the brakes, it would blow again. Scott came over to help troubleshoot.

“Wait a minute,” he said. I wonder if we wired up trailer connections backward? We swapped the wiring around a bit, and sure enough. No more blown fuse, and the brake lights were back.

“I mean, we did drink an entire bottle of rosé,” he laughed. Indeed, we did.

And from that moment on, any time either of us is working on a car, we have to ask, “Should I bring over a bottle of rosé?”