So, about this "jet blaster" project I got myself into. It wasn't really a fancy store-bought thing, more like a name I gave to my grand idea for an old pressure washer that was, frankly, pretty pathetic. It barely had enough oomph to clean mud off my boots, let alone the driveway.

Getting Started with the So-Called "Blaster"

First thing, I hauled the old beast out of the shed. It had been sitting there for a good year, collecting dust. I figured, what's the worst that could happen? It was already next to useless. I wanted to see if I could give it a new lease on life, or at least make it somewhat deserving of the "jet blaster" nickname I'd optimistically given it in my head.

I started by taking off the outer casing. Lots of plastic clips and a few stubborn screws. Inside, it was a mess of a small motor, a pump, and a bunch of hoses. My initial thought was, maybe it's just clogged up. So, I disconnected all the water lines I could get to and tried to flush them out with the garden hose. Some gunk came out, but nothing major.

Diving Deeper into the Guts

Next, I focused on the nozzle. I’d read somewhere that sometimes the nozzle itself can be the bottleneck. The original one was a cheap plastic thing. I tried cleaning it with a pin, poked around in there, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Then I had the bright idea of trying to find a better nozzle. I actually had an old brass nozzle from a different hose attachment lying around. No way it was going to fit directly.

So, then came the "modification" phase. This is where things usually get interesting, or go completely sideways. I tried to fashion an adapter. I had some random plumbing bits and a whole lot of hope.

• First attempt: A bit of copper pipe. Too loose.
• Second attempt: Tried to wrap the threads with an unholy amount of PTFE tape. Still leaked like crazy.
• Third attempt: Found a rubber washer that kinda-sorta wedged in there.

I also took a look at the pump. Didn't want to completely disassemble it because, let's be honest, my chances of getting it back together were slim. But I checked for any obvious blockages around the intake and output. Cleaned up some grime. Gave all the moving parts I could see a bit of spray lubricant, just for good measure.

The Moment of Truth (or Disappointment)

After a couple of hours of tinkering, sweating, and muttering to myself, I put it all back together, as best as I could. The new nozzle contraption looked sketchy, to say the least. I hooked up the water, plugged it in, and stood back. Took a deep breath.

I squeezed the trigger. For a second, nothing. Then, a splutter. And then... well, it worked. Sort of. The spray was definitely different. It was a bit more concentrated, maybe a tiny bit stronger? But water was also spraying out from my "custom" nozzle adapter. Not a fine mist, mind you, but a proper, annoying leak that soaked my shoes.

So, was it a "jet blaster" now? Not really. It was perhaps a "slightly less pathetic dribbler with an inconvenient side-spray feature." I spent another half hour trying to seal the leak, adding more tape, tightening things, but it was a lost cause. The pressure, even the little it had, was just too much for my makeshift adapter.

What I Reckon Now

In the end, I undid my "improvements" to the nozzle and put the original one back on. Cleaned it up properly, and it's probably back to its original, underwhelming performance. The good news is, I didn't permanently break it. The bad news is, it's still not a jet blaster.

It was a bit of a frustrating afternoon, to be honest. But hey, sometimes you just gotta try these things, right? You poke around, you try to make something better. Sometimes it works, sometimes you just end up with wet socks and a lesson learned. This time, the lesson was probably that some things are cheap and nasty for a reason, and my garage engineering skills have their limits. Still, keeps things interesting, I suppose. Maybe next weekend I'll just buy a new nozzle that actually fits.