Indi requested I send this to the list, so here 'tis. If you want
to send a reply, send it to her at [ames,uunet]!ssi!young.
bob
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Yesterday, the second of the fry-an-egg-on-the-tanneau-cover days
of this summer, Mitch was faced with a drive from Sunnyvale back to
Livermore. Those of you who are familiar with the Bay Area know
this drive is among the worst in terms of heavy traffic, so, being
an adventurer, and having TR-fever, Mitch got out the map and spied
a twisty back-hills road he could take to Sunol. This is the good
part of the story. The road turned out to be PERFECT for tearing
along through the heat. Torrington (the '69 BRG TR6) was wearing his
new "factory" exhaust, which allowed Mitch to hear himself think
better (something a contractor who gets paid to commute to meetings
and back should be doing). There were a few shady patches under the
oaks, and lots and lots of banked turns. But best of all, there
was no traffic!
Now comes the not-so-good part of the story. While speeding along
this road, catching bugs in his teeth, Mitch noticed something was
wrong with the steering. It felt like some suspension part had
broken and was rubbing against the steering rack. He stopped in
a shady turn-out, cut the engine, and got down in the warm dirt to
have a look. He pulled and pushed and twisted each suspension part
he could suspect (having just replaced the whole thing --and painted
each new part white-- a year and a half ago, Mitch new each part
personally), but nothing seemed loose. So back he climbed into
Torrington's searing cockpit and took off. Above the low purr of the
new exhaust, he thought, "Boy is it hot!" And, "What could be
wrong with the steering rack?" And, "(oh shit!), I don't have my
toolbox with me! I should *know* by now!"
But the rattling and clanking continued, and Mitch was driving
farther and farther from any sort of civilization. If he got stuck
out here, he'd have to wait until someone on a Harley (of the ilk
who frequent the Bay Areas dusty hill roads) might stop and give
him a lift. The situation was not good. But Torrington, heart-of-
loyalty, kept chugging along, embarrassed by his new noise that
was drowning out the quiet of the exhaust, but determined to get
his owner --the one who took such good care of him and gave him
new parts every month-- home to the air-conditioned office safely.
Here's the bad part. The pair finally reached Sunol Regional Park,
on the edge of civilization, and only eight miles from a service
station, when Mitch pulled over again, this time leaving the motor
running. He looked under the bonnet, and lo! the whole engine
block was vibrating in a funny direction. What about the engine
mounts! He asked Torrey to relax and quickly took a look into the
depths of the engine compartment. The driver's side mount looked fine.
The passenger side mount, however, was beginning to sag. It looked
like the heat of the day was helping to deform the rubber in the
mount, which was allowing the engine block to sag a little! And
here they were, as close to the middle of nowhere as you can get
within ten miles of 680! The mount would have to do until they
could get back to Livermore.
Okay, so to cut a long story short, they made it home, but now
Mitch has to replace the engine mount(s). (While he's at it,
he said he may as well do them all.) He plans to go at it from
the bottom --first lifting the engine to get at the bolts, etc.
Does anyone have any good hints, warnings, or stories about their
engine mount replacement episode to share with us?
Thanks!!!
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indi (Cathy Young) |"ssiwest!young"@lll-lcc.llnl.gov
Supercomputer Systems, Inc | or: uunet!ssi!young
Livermore, CA | (415)373-8044
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There are two hotels in Djang: the Hotel Windsor and, across
the street, the Hotel Anti-Windsor. --Bruce Chatwin
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