Ahhh, wintertime in Phoenix. Although it's considered a paradise this time of year, the nights do get a bit chilly in the desert.

At some point during the winter, we finally give up and turn on the heat. When it dips down in the 30's at night for a few hours, our tender carcasses simply can't handle the frigid, Arctic rush of cold. Live here and you basically become a cold-blooded reptile. My 28 years of Michigan-tempered, icy-veined fortitude are long gone. Nowadays, we're bone-chilled cold at temperatures where mid-westerners would be happy swimming in a lake.

During these recent chilly nights, it started getting getting colder and colder, inside  the house. Coincidentally, throughout the week, we noticed the sound coming through the vents from the attic was getting steadily louder. Louder airflow-ish sounds, nothing alarming, yet.

During an extra cold night, the noise got downright ridiculous when the heat kicked on, like the sound of a box of silverware tumbling in a clothes dryer full of rusty nails.

That sound was alarming. Nothing could be done at 2:00 am on a work night, so I turned off the heat, pulled up the blankets, and dozed back off to sleep.

HVAC = Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning

Our heat comes from a heat pump rather than a classic gas or electric furnace. As I understand it, in simple terms, it's our air conditioner running in reverse. Heat and cold come from the same unit, up on the roof of the house. I guess it's more efficient in our weather environment. (Here's the scientific mumbo-jumbo , if you care.)

Give me the choice between attic work and working on the roof and I'll choose fresh air and open spaces, free of crawling in the dust and scratchy insulation, every time. I'd be checking this problem out, up top.

You too, eh?

In an incredible coincidence of crazy timing, I had just read a blog post by Sarah at The Ugly Duckling House where she had successfully fought back a furnace failure with the help and advice of an HVAC knowledgeable friend. I won't spoil her story, but she got through the ordeal relatively unscathed. Go ahead and pop over there to read her post . I'll wait.

Back already? She got lucky, right? I was hoping that I was facing some sort of pulley, wheel, or bearing that needed some quick lubrication, 'cause I really don't have an HVAC friend.

A quick fix (?)

When I got home from work the next day, I turned on the heat, grabbed some penetrating oil and a can of WD-40, and tugged a ladder to the front of the house.

I scuttled up on the roof and opened up the side of the big metal box the noise was coming from, our AC unit. Inside was a blowing unit that looked a lot like the squirrel-cage floor fans that had filled our house after a big water leak a few years ago. I didn't need any expertise to tell that my pitiful, little can of WD-40 was not going to be the rescue hero I'd hoped it would be. The fan wasn't moving at all, but its central mounting hub(?) was completely detached and howling in fury. It was hard-core, metal-on-metal action, the hub was cutting into the inner edges of the fan vanes like a circular saw. Crap.

I pulled the fuse block, killing the power, removed the screws holding the fan unit to the duct-work, and pulled it back for examination. The fan was clearly destroyed, no fixing it. Some of the vanes were completely ripped off, others were bent, and then there was that whole thing about the central mounting hub being detached.

I buttoned the unit back up, climbed down, and started online research. Some sources recommended the complete replacement of the entire blower unit, motor and all. Best guess prices ranged from $400 - $1,000 to have a contractor do the work. Nope. Surely I could do it, right? Maybe I could even find the squirrel cage fan locally and perform the surgery myself.

Your Money is No Good Here

The next day, I spent my lunch hour driving around Phoenix to HVAC supply stores. What a freaking racket. While initially helpful, it was made clear that I couldn't get what I wanted because the supply stores wouldn't sell to the public. Apparently, I had to be a licensed HVAC contractor to buy parts; my money wouldn't be good in their fine establishments. One of my inquires was overheard by a grizzled HVAC tech slumped on a stool at the parts counter. This delightful gentleman treated me to a loud diatribe about how selling direct to "goddamn homeowners" took money out of his pocket!

I guess HVAC parts are distributed through a cartel or secret society that us bumpkin homeowners dare not be allowed to access. 

Why is it you can buy electrical or plumbing parts at hardware stores, home-centers, and even grocery super-stores, but trying to buy parts for an HVAC system that you own, is somehow robbery? Heck, you can even buy automotive parts direct. I don't have a license to prepare and sell food, but I can sure go to any grocery and buy it to prepare in my own house. Old school, good old boy, supply-chain horse-crap, outdated in today's world, in my opinion.

Sorry dude. My house. My risk. My money. 

If I hire you to do something and you bring your expertise, sweat, and disdain for handy homeowners, you can buy the parts. Otherwise let me fix my stuff. PS - I'm not calling your company anyway, Prince Charming.

Finally, I found a place that would sell me the fan. They still gave me a little trouble about the direct sale, but I talked them into it. It was just a fan, for God's sake, a few pieces of stamped metal. Forty bucks and I was out the door, in proud possession of my brand-new "blower wheel." If I could pull this repair off successfully, I'd save a bundle, as well as the time off work, waiting to meet a contractor.

Racing the Sunset

After work, I ascended the ladder again. This time I was loaded with the new fan, as many tools as I thought I might need, and a sack of the finest rooftop dining cuisine I could purchase through the closest drive through window. The sun was going down; I didn't have time to waste.

Rather than climbing up and down to flip breakers to disconnect power, I pulled the fuse block, right next to me.

I buzzed the screws out of the side panel with the quick rat-tat-tat of my impact driver for the second night in a row. This time, however, there were cheap cheeseburgers and a big iced tea... so it was better.

The mountains to the west, were looking hungrily at the sun, already starting to swallow it. Time was not on my side.

With the bent-up fan flopping around inside the housing, I had trouble getting the hub off the motor shaft. I put some muscle into my heavy linesman pliers and cut through the edges of the fan and pulled the beat-up thing out of my way.

Pro Tip:

 The precise condition of our original fan is what a true professional may refer to as "toast."

"This damn thing is toast!"

                            - AZ DIY Guy

I still had a heck of a time getting that hub off the motor shaft, even with the set screw completely removed. Somehow, inexplicably, beating on it with the linesman pliers didn't do the trick. I finally doused the shaft with the magical elixir, and member of the holy trinity of DIY , WD-40. After a brief hit with 220 grit, fine sandpaper I slid the thing off the shaft.

At this point, I'll take a moment and share a couple of AZ DIY Guy's fans, young and old:

I had to completely remove the motor from the housing to install the new fan. It's incredible that I can hold a motor in one hand that's powerful enough to blast air throughout the entire house.

With the new fan slipped on the motor shaft, the motor got reattached. The fan hub's set screw tightened to a flat edge on the motor shaft. I snugged it up tight.

There were sheet metal baffles and brackets to reattach before I screwed the unit back on the duct work. This was one of those tasks where an impact driver simply shines. The time saved by using one with a magnetic driver tip, versus a screwdriver is incalculable. It gets the job done quick, nice and tight, without stripping any screw heads.  

Wait, what the heck is that? 

I'm not going to insult my eagle-eyed readers and assume my fellow tool-drooling, DIY lovers didn't notice the odd, bulbous protuberance on the hilt of my beloved impact driver. My nine-year-old, Dewalt Impact Driver has run on beefy, 18 volt, NiCad batteries since the day I took it out of the box. Now, DeWalt sent me a 20V MAX* Battery Adapter to try out. It allows me to run the compact, powerful Lithium Ion 20V MAX batteries that powers DeWalt's current line of high-end tools. I'll have a review up soon, but so far, it's awesome. The adapter should be available through retail very soon. 

UPDATE: You can buy the 20V MAX* Battery Adapter now, an Amazon best seller. Here's my review!

I was still worried. Was the shaft bent, the motor damaged, unbalanced, whatever? Luckily, after a quick hand spin, the fan spun smoothly. I could feel a good push of air. So far, so good.

I pushed the fuse block back into the disconnect and fired the unit up. It worked. Smooth as silk. Air blasted.

By that point, my reality, not illuminated by camera flash , was pretty dark. I fumbled the screws I could find into place with the LED on the impact driver for a while. 

Finally, I couldn't see enough to finish. Stupid in the dark. I gave up and climbed down to fetch a flashlight. Illuminated, I buttoned up the side panels, gathered my tools, parts, and fast food debris, and made several trips across the roof to the top of the ladder.

As the last, feeble glow of the setting sun slipped softly behind the mountains, I managed to avoid falling off the edge in the dark to spend the night in a broken heap in the flowerbed. I didn't trip over any vent stacks or fall through the skylight as I cleaned up. Nighttime on rooftops should be reserved for Peter Pan and fairy-dusted children, not middle-aged DIY guys.

By the time I was done, the air was already chilly; I was more than ready to enter the freshly warming house.

The silly thing is, I had rushed to complete the repair after work, risking rooftop darkness, to avoid any more cold nights for the family. It turned out to be the last cold night anyway. As of this posting, we've had record breaking, warm temperatures for mid February. Today should hit 87 degrees with night in the mid 50's. Paradise. I could have waited for the weekend.

 How about it? Would you tackle something like this, or fork over possibly hundreds of dollars?