February 18: meet Petrolina
So I bought this old Chevy truck from a military auction. It's a 2004 Avalanche. This thing is fucking massive. 35 inch rims, full tow package, deer killer on the front. Perfect for driving through the Midwest in deer season. Oh, and Captain America hubcaps because military dudes in Kansas.
I've named her Petrolina. She's a big girl.
And I'm going to load her up with seventeen Orange Pi's, a sensor array for depth photography, and a dozen cameras, sonar, and a few other cool gadgets.
Then, I'm going to build an AI system on top of all of it, using a voice based visual LLM interface, and it's going to be tied to my phone for network access.
Nice. And. Portable.
Biggest problem I've had so far, is that everyone wants to sell me finished consumer products, where what I actually need, I think, is a giant box full of OEM components.
When I'm done, I'll have a snarky truck that talks to you as you pass by, and if it doesn't like you, it'll waste your time, take your picture and call the cops.
"Hello police, I think I'm being stolen..."
Mwhahaha...
August 29: radio, seats, maybe robot arms
Monday is the first day off I've taken from work since I've been there. I'm going to take the day to do car and truck stuff. Get Petrolina outfitted with a new radio and heated seats. Maybe some robot arms.
October 5: the electrical problems
Had to jump start Petrolina again today. Battery was dead.
But more than dead, it was completely dead. Also, I'm getting weird dashboard lighting I shouldn't be getting without serious issues and noises, which tells me that something is up with her electrical system.
Petrolina is a gorgeous 2004 Chevy Avalanche that I bought from a military auction last year, and haven't had the time to work on.
She came with a deer killing front bar, and huge gigantic tires with Captain America hubcaps. Dashboard is all torn up. And there's cords everywhere, where you can see they removed a ton of specialized equipment. Radios and computers most likely.
Same kind of stuff you see when you buy a cop car at auction.
Problem is: I still don't have time to work on her, and she needs brakes and a bunch of little things. So the plan is to take her to the dealership this week. There's this place in town that rebuilt my happy little Ford Ecosport after the hood caught fire (as all ecosports do), and I'm thinking about going back to them.
They're fucking superheroes.
But I figure, as soon as I get all the boring truck, dashboard, brake, and electrical stuff done, I should be ready for the minor body work she needs before painting and modernization.
I'm going to paint her Porsche Lava. It's this really pretty creamsicle color. A kind of milky coral.
And then I'm going to load her up with cameras, and a talking AI, so I don't get bored on long road trips.
Then I'm going to drive around and visit my friends in other cities for a few months.
The next installment is in Field notes on software reconstruction and a new donor truck.
October 19: Black Betty
I had the greatest adventure this weekend.
So, you know how I've been trying to build a robot truck for the last year, right? Cool idea. I had this amazing idea back in January that I would put some small local inference in a Chevy Avalanche.
I like the Avalanche because, at least along clearly scientifically definable parameters, it's the best truck.
Let me explain.
First and foremost, it's pretty. Whether it rides high or rides low, it's a sleek-looking thing that won't draw a lot of attention on the road from carjackers or unsavory law enforcement types.
The cab is huge for a truck. Smaller than a Suburban, but just the right size to take a family of three on a hiking trip. And it's got a bed big enough that you can do real work with it, like moving a desk across town to your stealth startup if you need to.
I had decided that I wanted a new vehicle, but what I didn't want was a car full of spyware and analytics reporting that would be constantly phoning home. And I didn't want to take the chance of automotive computer engineering bricking out and leaving me in the lurch with the dealership.
New vehicles have much stronger electrical systems, but the drawback is that it's actually harder, not easier, to patch into them with a small inference appliance.
That meant that I would need an older truck.
I correctly deduced that I would want an Avalanche, and in February, I bought an old one from a military base in Kansas. And that led to a very expensive study on why you shouldn't buy cheap vehicles from military bases.
Five thousand dollars in repair work later, and no closer to getting to the source of its electrical and engine problems, I finally said... fuck it, and got on Facebook Marketplace.
I found the perfect listing. A 2007 Avalanche with a nice sound system and leather seats. Much nicer than the last one, and three years more recent than the other. It also didn't have the manly-man makeover with the lift kit that the military version of the truck had, and no deer killer on the front bumper. But oh well.
She was so pretty.
New problem:
The ad was still up, but she had promised to sell the truck to some random dude who was having trouble coming up with the money. I told her that I could do it, if it looked solid.
Then she pinged me the next day, asking if I could take a look at it that same day. So I did.
This was an older lady, and she was really nice. Reminded me a little bit of my favorite auntie. And when I got there, I learned that the reason for selling the thing was because she was underwater with some payday loan sharks who had been trying to repossess the thing for six months.
Like an absolute brawler, she had negotiated them down to something payable, but in order to get out from under the constant harassment... she had to sell the vehicle.
The deal was that my ex and I would go down, take a look at the truck, and get the payday loan sharks to sign it over to us!
Adventure.
We were late. I hadn't been north of Saint Louis yet, and she was actually really patient with us. We spent an hour at the payday loan place, and eventually... SUCCESS! Black Betty was ours.
Then we towed the thing 140 miles home, and got lost. Because getting lost is what I do. And the tow truck driver was keenly looking at the original Avalanche.
My plan had been to get Betty home and donate the original truck to NPR or something. But it turns out that the tow truck driver is also a hobbyist mechanic, and he was looking for a truck to give to his fifteen-year-old daughter, who was just learning how to drive.
The kid's very petite. Under five feet tall. And I asked him, "Are you sure, dude? This thing has 36-inch tires and no running boards."
He said it was going to be okay, and that she would manage. I got to watch when he texted her about it, and she responded with happy-crying emojis.
Made me feel good.
And he hauled the old girl away.
Now we're ready for brain surgery.
The saga will continue.
More soon.
