Your dedicated reddit source for everything Jeep Cherokee (XJ).
Long story short my car has a k&n fipk intake and an mishimoto oil cooler everything else is oem I believe
My vtec solonoid was leaking oil out of the oil pressure switch so i bought a new solonoid and the problem was fixed for about 12 hours
I drove it to work and back (yesterday 80miles) and it drove just fine
Then on the way to work today i loose all vtec again and power after 6k rpm
So i was very confused what had happened because i just fixed it
Come to find out
Oil is coming from the same spot it did out of the pressure switch
Any ideas on how to fix? Or what the problem could be
S2ki wont allow me to post so please help me out and spread this around
These are ours 1) 20 lbs of dry ice in the cooler + 3 bags of regular ice (only had to buy 1 bag on Sunday.) 2) Add tea tree oil to baby wipes for your daily wipe down.
[←Chapter 50] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 52→]
The first sensation that came to him was the gentle lapping of something cool around his legs. The feeling in question had an almost kindly character to it. He let that sensation carry him through the rivers of muddled consciousness, thought slowly emerging.
The first question was a pressing, if quite basic one.
It dominated his mind, filling it to the brim as he asserted his existence. He certainly did exist, that he was fairly sure of - what was considering the question, if nothing indeed existed? So he must exist, but in exactly what mode or medium he wasn’t exactly sure. All he knew was of himself, drifting along a slurry of thought, with something cool lapping at his legs.
So, then if that question was, at least for the time being, answered, who was he?
He strained at the boundaries of his empty mind, and found nothing - no scrap nor iota of recollection or memory.
He gave up, and left himself to drift for an indeterminate time.
The third question, which he hoped might be a little easier to answer - where was he?
He opened something with effort, and something bright streamed in. ‘Eyes’. That’s what he had opened, and the streaming thing was ‘light’. It wasn’t the usual kind, at least he thought so, although he couldn’t exactly remember what the ‘usual’ kind was. It was soft, gentle, not so much ‘streaming’ in, but laid down on the surface of his vision like gossamer.
As his vision resolved, he became aware of what lay… in front of him? Above him? Directionality was a little fuzzy. What he did experience was blurred tones of orange, red, blue and dark purple, mixing together in splashes and strokes. The ultimate effect was something like a gradual gradient, with uncountable tiny dots letting forth that soft light.
He was looking upwards then, with a sky full of stars and colour above. Again, there was that definite sense of the unusual, that this was not what skies were ‘supposed’ to look like. And again, he couldn’t quite remember what the ‘usual’ sky was to contrast. Something deep within told him that he’d seen many skies, or potentially the same sky many times, and it did not look like this.
His body, light as a feather, experienced no strain as he sat up. Once more, the unusual feeling, and once more, no usual feelings to compare it to. His legs were submerged into dark waters, which rose and fell around him slowly. Cool, but not painful or irritatingly cold, it stretched out with only the merest ripple into the horizon. Below him, yes it must have been ‘below’, was a fine black sand that gently sloped into the ocean.
So that was what was forward, now what about behind?
He turned something, his ‘head’ he seemed to recall, and found much of the same. Another sea, although this one was made out of the black sand instead of the black water. The dunes too stretched to the horizon and beyond, with the stars vanishing behind them.
So, where was he then? Evidently ‘here’, wherever here was. Now, he was certain that he’d been somewhere else before, but had no way of knowing where nor how long ago it’d been. Had he been ‘here’ before? Perhaps. There was a sense of familiarity to the place.
He stood with the merest effort, black grains cascading down to join their siblings. One foot after another sank into the damp sand and soon he’d left the imprint of his body long behind. The stars, nor the sea, nor the sand seemed to change character or position as he walked.
Onward. Onward. Onward, along what he thought was a straight line into the far distance.
It was some time later when he stopped to take a glance around, and found nothing behind him. Perhaps he’d barely moved at all, and the imprint had merely been washed away by the gentle waves, or perhaps it was too far into the distance to see. There was nothing before him either, merely the exact same sand, water, and stars. There was no lightening or darkening of the endless sky, no change in the positions of the constellations, merely the black desert, eternal for all he knew.
Perhaps no time had passed at all, and all the movement was merely inside his mind.
The water flowed over his feet as he walked at its edge, trying to discern matters of who, where, what, when, why? Perhaps he was nobody, perhaps this place was nowhere, and perhaps there was no real reason to be here other than… being here. It was all rather confusing and any time he seemed to be getting close to an answer it stole away.
Ultimately, when all the questions were gone, there was only the walk, one step, two step, across the sand.
He tried to count the steps and got lost somewhere around fifty thousand. He tried to gauge whether he was ‘hungry’, or ‘tired’. Those were things, he thought he knew, that were supposed to happen after a while. If he was remembering correctly, such things seemed to have little sway here. Hence, time passed, for him if not the world, and he found himself walking onwards.
He seemed to remember a concept of ‘day’ and ‘night’, a brightening of the darkening used to tell time. But the light was always the same here, an ethereal twilight stuck between the two. There had been something else, however, that he was sure of, that indicated the passage of night and day.
It took him another couple thousand steps before he finally had it. Sun and Moon, that had been it, hadn’t it? They were… circular, that he was pretty sure of, and one had been warm, and the other cooler, and smaller. The moon was the former, and the sun was the latter, or maybe the other way around?
New thoughts shelved for the moment, he continued on his path to places unknown. It took his fancy to turn left and wander across the dunes with the ocean to his back. Up and down, up and down, he trudged across the hills and troughs of the dunes. Yet, when he glanced back from time to time, the ocean always seemed to be the same approximate distance. He kept at it for a while, trying to see if there was any indication of distance being gained.
It was a consummate failure. The sea was still there, its lapping waters calling to his back.
Once more, he found himself at that endless shore, and in the far distance, both touchable yet incomprehensibly distant, hung a pale circle.
He remembered that, at least.
The sea had changed, gone from bare ripples to a smooth mirror. The darkness underneath its surface had deepened, something stirring beneath. It was reaching for him, no longer be beckoning, with a hunger that belied its apparent calmness. The moon hung low to touch the sea and where they met, a black shadow pressed against the interstice.
From that shadow a voice ripped across the stilled waters, prying against his ears. The worlds were fashioned out of something sharper than any blade, darker than the night sky, peeling reality with harsh syllables.
“PAIN,” it said, over and over, a drum sounded out the beat of a wild and wounded heart.
The water had crept up around him while he stared, small waves brushing just below his knees. The shadow against the moon grew great and terrible, half submerged, half silhouette. The character of the thing was impossible to make out, with only the vaguest resemblance to a horrible flower. Elements of it unfolded like petals with a luminosity that shattered the twilight of the desert.
There was a gaze, or perhaps a multitudes of directed lines of intention that intersected solely on him. He was dissected, without consideration of dignity or privacy, everything perceived and understood. The waters before him parted, drawn back like bare cloth and he saw the true scale of the thing.
It underlay the bottom of the world, an incomprehensible mass of tangled roots and mad thoughts spreading through every deep place and high recess. All merged, all twisted with no end nor beginning, and deeper, deeper still, a baleful light shining as a furious star. It pummelled his perception, tore at what little memory or identity remained, coiling and snaking those hateful roots through his very soul.
He began to slip, pulled as inexorably as gravity pulled one downard without pity or reprieve. He was a grim prize, an unknowing creature that had walked into reach of the mind flower. The waters rising, he attempted to summon a pathetic protest, to deny the fate which had been chosen for him. Such defences were swept aside and crushed with unceremonious ease, as the waters rose, and rose, and rose. He felt the first touch of the thing, uncountable mental fingers groping, and having found their target within him, closing in an impossible grip.
The scream was high and hideous, an echo of a thousand languages calling out in incomprehensible fury. His own soul began to crackle in tandem with a pain so furious it drowned every other sensation. All of it, the scream, the water, the faint pressure of the moonlight, blurred into the chaotic static. A rent in reality was beneath him, around him, the beach vanishing into the distance. He was falling into a void, where nothing and no one could reach.
The dread certainty of utter destruction was upon him. Whatever impression he’d left upon existence would be washed away, mere grains of sand drawn into the depths of the sea, never to be seen nor known by anyone nor anything.
But before that fate was sealed with oblivion, something pulsed out across the darkness. Something high and pure and beautiful where there was once only the corrupt horror of the flowering abomination.
He found himself curled up on the sand, staring out into a moonless sea.
It took him some time to remember who he was, or rather, the fact that he was, period. A sense of horror, pain, and a narrow escape from peril echoed in his head, though the detail was fuzzy. Clutching himself, and shivering despite the lack of chill, he lay on the sand for an indeterminate amount of time.
When he managed to pull himself up to his knees, he found that the scene had definitely changed. The dunes and stars were all the same, but what lay between them was entirely different. The empty air folded and swirled, little eddies and ripples and warps, turning the sand and waters into structure.
Climbing to his feet, he found that the distortions stretched out far into the distance, expanding and extending to greater heights and widths, increasing in complexity and detail. He was standing in a place, something definite and specific, built with purpose and intent.
He walked out into the warped location, clambering deeper and deeper into the distortions. He found that the shapes became more definite, and more obvious the further he went. There were flowers, yes, unmistakably flowers, of different shapes and sizes. A twisted lamppost without candle to light it, recalling other memories of warmth and lights. A rocky stream, complete with moss and lichens, so real he could almost hear the bubbling of non-existent waters.
The next dune brought more sights, trees and cobbles and blades of grass. The one after that, walls, both chest high and well above his head. It was building itself around him as he stepped over the sand, and when he crossed the last dune…
Promenades and boulevards, staircases and great lofts, immense windows and walls that looped and winded and reconnected with each other in ways that seemed impossible. Corridor after loft after wing after walkway, terraces and sloped beds and balconies and pillars. None with any colour or brightness of their own, but rather sculpted out of the stars and sand and sea.
Space itself had been folded, pinched, and pressed to create a masterwork of bizarre architecture. Between all of the structures, there were trees and flowers and lawns of both distantly familiar and absolutely alien character. It was a garden, a garden in a timeless place with no colour, yet substance.
A garden of glass.
He stepped on the transparent cobbles, and walked a zig-zagging path that turned into itself and out between an arch of a walkway. He was greeted with a small pool and the sound of falling water. He stooped and gathered a handful of a liquid that he couldn’t see, but could feel. Deep within, far larger than what should’ve fit through the portal, swam immense creatures. Coiling and folding in on themselves like the garden itself, they floated above what must’ve been an entire city, all sunk deep below the black sand.
He surveyed the series of bridges and districts that extended into the dark, before finding to his left another bench. This one had not been there before, and was now accompanied by an immaculate lamppost that emitted a not-light. From a spiralling post, there were hanging baskets of flowers with trailing vines that moved in a non-existent wind. He made his way over, and found that the bench held his weight without give.
An indeterminate amount of time was spent on trying to guess at the rhyme or reason behind the labyrinthine architecture. Eventually, he had to give up, the turns and twists impossible to follow for long. Perhaps it had not been designed at all, rather such complexity was some kind of inevitable law of this place.
There was something beside him on the bench.
He picked it up, taking more than a moment to recognize what it was, so different was it from the rest of the Garden. Solid, with a colour and texture all its own, a paper envelope, faded by age and dust, with a flaking red seal at its centre. A ‘letter’, alive and unsculpted unlike the garden, with its own sound and smell. He picked at the wax, and opened the letter with the satisfying rustle and scent of old, folding paper.
Then he departed from the grey half-life of the black beach, and found himself somewhere entirely different.
He was at a desk, his desk, a great behemoth of red-brown wood with a frankly ridiculous amount of drawers. Not that he could see much of them, with the sheer amount of parchment and books drowning the surface. He had a hand, one of warm flesh and blood, closed around an inkwell that was teetering dangerously over a fresh sheet.
He frowned at the sudden sense of displacement, sure that there was something wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure wha-
A knock at the door, hurried but strong, came to interrupt his thoughts. It was almost hidden behind one of the great red curtains arranged around the walls of the considerable room. Light bled through a handful of them, suggesting the presence of windows. Those walls that didn’t were furnished by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stuffed to the gills. He quickly righted the inkwell, and gave some customary response while drying his hands with a cloth.
A voice, muffled by the wall, but still legible as a young woman’s, answered, and the door practically flew open. Into the room bursted a youth in the prime of adulthood, carrying a dusty grimoire. She paced toward the desk, and he suspected that she was barely holding herself from sprinting.
Before he could afford even a ‘good morning’, as was their custom, she slammed the book on his desk. This drew both an annoyed grunt and a reproachful look from him, which she responded to by nearly spilling an inkwell as she flipped open to a page. Words began to drift in and out of perspective, too blurry to make out. Clearly she was excited about something - well of course, she was always excited about something or other.
Wait, how did he know that?
How did he know her? He definitely did.
He was about to reach out, to call out, to ask her name, who she was, who he was, before her final words came into sharp clarity.
“...and that’s only the beginning, professor Efrain!”
Efrain. Yes. Yes, that had been his name. In some other time, some other place.
The vision was gone, and he was sitting on a bench made from black sand in a garden made from the world. Above him, between all the spires and walkways, a great thing floated. It looked almost like swirling scraps of cloth and paper, scrawled in ink and charcoal, with words and symbols from many different languages. They twisted and compressed into a sharp point beyond his eye’s sight, but which he was certain looked at him.
He wasn’t pulled, that would imply that some kind of force was exerted upon him. Rather, the scene shifted and moved so that he was closer to the mass of turning lexicons.
“You do not belong here,” came a voice, authoritative and cold.
The garden, the beach, the stars and sand, all vanished upwards as he tumbled, deeper and deeper. Out of space and memory and time he fell into a warm current which carried him away back to a different consciousness altogether. [←Chapter 50] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 52→]
I have a 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee 4.0L. It developed a tapping/knocking noise. This sub assured me it was just the lifters. Turns out at 117,000 miles, the engine exploded and I have pieces of piston all over the oil pan.
I have bought a rebuilt engine. I would like to avoid my engine blowing up again.
What oil should I be using? Conventional or synthetic? 10W30?
I had been using 10w30 synthetic with Fram extraguard or ultraguard filters. After coronavirus, I did go a couple years without an oil change because I drove the Jeep so little. I will now be replacing the oil at 6 months regardless of mileage.
I would really like to hear from guys that have a 4.0L and have more than 200,000 miles on their engine.
I was looking at financing a newer Jeep Cherokee or compass trail hawk but have been browsing Craigslist and have seen a few 20ish year old 4Runners with over 200k on the clock going for around $4k. I’m considering going that route so I can save my money while I get through school but I’m a little worried about the longevity of a car with such high mileage. I feel like I can trust one of these old yotas though, my friend just hit 300k in a 95 Tacoma with the v6. The specific 4Runner I’m looking at is a 2002 SR5 with 245k miles that the owner has been daily driving for 6 years. It’s in Arizona so I’m not too worried about rust but I’m curious what folks more knowledgeable than me think.
I’m somewhat handy but wouldn’t be able to complete a full engine rebuild if something serious went wrong but I can change an alternator!
Mopar 56038680AA Ground strap for 2006 Jeep Grand Cherokee. Since it is discontinued, is my best bet going to a junkyard? Is there a comparable part?
So basically I've tried to compile a list of every movie I've ever seen and there's this one movie in particular that's escaped me. I must have watched it around 4 or 5 years ago on late night television and it just so happened to be on (I wouldn't be able to recall the channel). It was a pretty mediocre film and all I can remember is most of the plot which I'll explain: (Apologies for the long post)
The film follows a young, white couple (I don't remember what the guy looked like but the woman was about late 20s to early 30s, quite short with curly, light brunette hair and blue eyes) with their relationship having difficulties (I remember the description of the film putting an emphasis on that).
I believe that one day at a restaurant, they are invited to this mansion where there's several other couples (like half a dozen maybe). I believe this part of the film is dedicated to getting to know the other couples and discussing the relationship difficulties between our main characters.
The female protagonist ends up befriending an older couple where she and the wife express unease about the mansion and I think the older woman ends the conversation by saying they'll try and leave or call the police or something to that effect.
I believe once the night has passed, the main protagonist notice the older couple have gone missing. The other patrons seem unbothered by it and just assume they left and I believe the couple hosting sends out a search party. Or at least pretend to.
I believe the chain of events that follows is that the protagonists feel something is definitely going on and investigate the house and I believe the woman finds a sort of camera room where they were all being filmed throughout the house. Could have just made that up but I do believe she does find something incriminating and convinces the male counterpart that they need to get out as soon as possible.
However, their escape plan is foiled as they are captured by the hosts and wake up to find themselves strapped to hospital beds side by side. This is when the host couple and a surgeon I believe reveal their master plan all along which I don't remember (it might have been organ harvesting but that's a complete guess). It's also revealed that they had already killed the older couple.
Though when all seems lost, they somehow manage to escape their restraints (and I think one of them stabs the surgeon with a scalpel) before running into the darkness at the front of the house to where they can escape. They steal a jeep from the hosts and sleep the night off in a forest far away from the house.
In the morning, I believe the woman feels guilty for leaving all the other patrons behind in the house to be next on the chopping block so decide to contact the nearest police officer (who if I remember correctly kind of resembled Stanley Hudson from The Office - just as a general description) who joins them to investigate the house and the couple.
I don't know if he turns up empty originally and then more action unfolds as the host couple hunt down their escapees, but at some point he definitely finds out that the couple are up to no good and tries to have them arrested.
However things don't go to plan and a shootout takes place at the climatic part of the movie. The police officer is killed rather swiftly and our protagonists are taken hostage. However, the protagonists manage to wrestle the weapons into their possession to gain the upper hand.
Oh yeah. There was also a sort of geeky character who I think has some association with the female protagonist, possibly through work. I only remember him because it cuts to him a few times watching the climatic showdown through one of the spy cameras and reacting accordingly when the couple have the advantage and disadvantage.
So in the end, the bad guys are arrested and the other patrons are freed (I think from a shipping container or something to that affect) and it goes without saying that the protagonists' relationship grows really strong after the ordeal.
TL;DR: Main couple with rocky relationship are invited to a party or something along with several other couples. There, one couple disappears and it turns out they and other couples had been murdered for organs or something to that effect. Then the main couple escape and contact the police who investigates but is killed in a final fight between the host couple. The protagonist couple win and their relationship is at its peak and all is well.
[To help even further I've listed films that I've ruled out that have come up during my everlasting search for the film (unless anyone wants to assertively overrule any of them)] -Blended (2014) -Couples Retreat (2009) -The One I Love (2014) -Marriage Retreat (2011) -The Invitation (2015) -Get Out (2017) -The Menu (2022) -Welcome Home (2018) -Old (2021) -Gone in the Night (2022) -Vivarium (2019) -Perfect Strangers (2016) -A Perfect Getaway (2009)
I drove 318 miles, and just FILLED up with 7.724 gallons. Am I calculating wrong? My gauge says full, and I can hear when it's full as I'm filling too. I thought my mileage gauge was off, so I mapped my route and it was 318 miles. I checked my card statement and confirmed I only gassed up 1 time.
About the jeep, it's a 97 sport, no known issues beside something obviously wrong in the suspension causing death wobble at 55 and 75. Air filter is oem type, I put 4 hole injectors on a few years ago but never noticed anything. My normal commute to work is less than 1 mile, but I'm commuting to class as of yesterday. I recently changed the radiator and flushed the coolant, and changed the oil.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm just confused. It is not possible for an xj to get 41 mpg. Years ago I got 27mpg, over 500 miles doing a consistent 85. My recent commute I keep it about 80. It's a flat commute, no climbs, no passes.
Is there something I need to check on? I've had no loss of power, no engine lights.
I'm baffled, and I will continue to check mpg as I continue commuting to class and back.
Got a 2000 jeep cherokee xj and the left side back tail lights and blinker refuse to work, i think this is the issue but who the hell knows i printed out the colored version of the wire format for the lights but even then if this part is completely fucked it was for nothing so
Just got a 2019 jeep Cherokee. I’m trying to use the jeep app to register the vehicle to Sirius guardian? It says vehicle cannot be added to your account. When I check the account settings in the vehicle on the touch screen, it shows a different subscriber name.
Sorry , I have never had a vehicle with any of the Sirius programs. Not sure if I am doing something wrong or not. I’m thinking the old owner has his account set up on his old vehicle that I now own.
Thanks for any input everyone!
Hey all. In a few weekends I will be doing my first HPDE event at High Plains Raceway near Denver. Looks like it should be around 87 degrees for the weekend. This will be my first ever track day. Do I really need to switch away from 0W-20 to 5W-30 for my first track day? I just changed my oil a few weeks ago and have less than 1k on it. In hindsight I should have just put 5W-30 but didn’t think of it and really don’t wanna have to drain out good oil and go buy some heavier oil, especially when I have a lot of 0W-20 stockpiled and would be fine with just switching it immediately after the track day. Also, I will have to drive 8 hours down and 8 hours back too from the track.
What do you guys think? Can I get away with 0W-20? What temperature should I back off at? I have an UltraGauge on the car and typically get around 230 when I’m really beating on it on back twisties.
Edit: this is a gen 2 BRZ so I have the oil cooler that came stock.
After doing a couple hours of research on EMS and their varied effects on the body. After doing so, I still feel like I have no idea whether or not it's snake oil. I can't quite give a reason that it wouldn't work what-so-ever, but as with all fitness related products, I am still skeptical.
I am well aware that you can't just slap an EMS on and lose weight/gain muscle. I am trying to get back into regularly exercising (became a dad two years ago), but would love to have equipment that assists me on my journey.
If you personally have ever used one for muscle gain, or if you know someone who has strong feelings about theirs, I would love to hear from you.
It's only $80, so I wouldn't feel that booty tickled if it doesn't work, but damn it would be a hell of a lot cooler if it did.
50K miles, been using conventional pennzoil 5W-20, should I switch to full synthetic and if so which one?
just test drove both the sel with the activity package and a limited. i would love to turn one into a frequent offroad camper but overall daily driver. the premium trim was surprisingly fast and great for driving in south florida where i’m frequently needing to evade/speed past idiot drivers and the vented seats are invaluable in the summer but the DCT worries me for trail/dirt/mud driving. i know a bigger oil cooler would help but this with the multiple issues and recalls definitely hinders my confidence so i figured the N/A engine with the regular trans is probably better but I worry about not having enough power under load (especially with bed racks, camping gear etc going off road). does anyone have any real off-roading experience with these? if so please share stories, anything helps. thanks so much. and yes i’ve thought about turboing the N/A but the comp ratio is wayyyy too high to do anything with and would probably be cheaper to slap the 2.5T in it if money was no issue