I have a 1998 Chevy Tahoe. It’s been a great truck. I bought it with around 90k miles, and it now has around 134k miles. I’ve driven it to Alaska, Minnesota, Colorado and other distant places. I love how capable it is off-road, while still being somewhat “luxurious” with its heated leather seats and cushy suspension.

However, there are times when I want to set the thing on fire and roll it off a cliff. Specifically, there have been two times.

The first time was in International Falls, MN, two summers ago. I was starting my journey home from a vacation, when the truck decided not to start. At first, I thought maybe the gas gauge had gone bad and I had foolishly run out of fuel. I got help from a kind stranger, who went to a gas station on his motorcycle and got me fuel and some Sea Foam to clean any residue from the bottom of the tank, if it was in fact a no-fuel situation.

No dice. The truck simply refused to start. So I called my roadside assistance program and they dragged the truck back to the Waschke Family GM Center in International Falls, MN. By this time it was late in the day and the service department was closed.

The next day, they diagnosed the problem as being rooted in the Passlock II system. This system is designed (ha) to prevent vehicle theft by making the ignition lock cylinder electronically tamper-proof. If you try to start the vehicle with a key it does not recognize, it will shut down the fuel injectors and disallow the vehicle to run. When this happens it is called “long tamper” mode.

The technicians at the GM shop ordered the parts from Minneapolis, which took a day and a half to arrive, and installed them the day after. The truck worked again, but had cost me around $500 in repairs, not to mention 2 additional unplanned nights in a hotel while waiting for the vehicle to be fixed. The total extra cost caused by this incident was probably close to $800.

Fast-forward to October 30, 2009. I am about to leave the grocery store, when the truck decides not to start again. This time, I recognize the tell-tale symptom, the dreaded flashing “Security” indicator on the dashboard.

!~)@(#&%$()!@#

!@)$*(&%!)*(@&#$)(!~@#$

!@#)*$&!)@#&%$)!@&#$)!&@#$&

I try the “10 minute relearn procedure” that the technicians at Waschke taught me, but to no avail. The truck stubbornly refuses to start even after several attempts. I give up and call my roadside assistance program again. They agree to tow my vehicle to my house, as I will be repairing it myself.

Tonight, I re-tried the 10 minute relearn procedure a few times, and finally, magically, wondrously, got the truck to start up. I also now have at my disposal some knowledge of this ridiculous system and how it works. I also know how to fool it into thinking it has failed so that it will never bother me again.

I have already torn apart the steering column so that the passlock wires are exposed. Once the truck is running, I cut the little yellow wire. As expected, the Security light on the instrument cluster comes on. The truck does not stop running.

I pause for a bit, thinking, “Maybe I should just leave the truck running and lock the door. I bet they make gasoline IV bags. I could just keep it out here running all the time, so I never have to worry about whether it will start.” I decide this is absurd, and it is time to test this “fix” I have done.

Slowly I turn off the truck, and am rewarded with silence. After a moment of silent prayer to the Dei Vehicularum, I turn the key and the engine roars to life.

Now I have a piece of black electrical tape in place to cloak the annoying Security malfunction indicator. I also have on order a bypass module which should cleanly make this whole situation go away forever. But for now, the truck is working and I am happy.

And to whomever was involved in the design and implementation of Passlock II: You may go straight to Hell. Your invention sucks and you are a moron. If I ever meet you in person, you will regret it forever.