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Ford forced to recall Escape over fire risk yet again

Recalls happen. Automakers hope they won't, but they do. And that's alright, for the most part, because cars are designed (and to a large degree still made) by humans, and humans make mistakes. So we forgive them, as long as the problem is resolved. Only in the case of the Ford Escape, the problem seems to keep coming back.
That's why Ford is calling in the Escape yet again due to fire concerns. The issue revolves around problematic fuel lines in 9,469 units manufactured between October 5, 2011, and July 11, 2012, all of which use the 1.6-liter EcoBoost inline four-cylinder engine.
As you yourself may recall, the Escape was subject to a string of recalls last year that resulted in a $17 million fine. One of them was over this very same issue, which Ford apparently didn't rectify the first time around. Let's hope this time is the last time.

Ford reports $3B profit in Q4, $6.9B for the year

Good news out of Dearborn today, as Ford announced $3 billion in profit for the last quarter of 2013, a 90-percent increase over the same period of 2012. Net income for all of last year, meanwhile, jumped to $7.2 billion from $5.7 billion in 2012, while pre-tax profits sat at a decade-topping $6.9 billion for all of 2013.
The results of the substantial profit increases are bigger profit-sharing checks for UAW employees. How big? A record $8,800 on average for 47,000 UAW workers, making 2013 the biggest year for profit sharing in Ford history. In total, $414 million will be paid as part of the profit-sharing scheme.
Now, it should be pointed out that a fair portion of Ford's Q4 profits were due to tax benefits, totaling $2.1 billion, according to Automotive News. Total profits would have also been higher, had there not been a significant recall on the Escape, as well as plant issues in South America.

Project Ugly Horse: Part VII

Devils, Details and Weight Reduction
There are many things I could call this exercise. A party is not one of them.
I've spent three days crammed in the axle well of this 1989 Mustang with nothing to keep me company beyond a trouble light, a DeWalt drill on the very last of its legs and billion razor sharp, red hot slivers of metal with an affinity for my most sensitive of regions. My joints are raw from crawling around on the concrete. I'm half deaf from the shriek of the spot weld cutter and the boom of the cold chisel and hammer.