On Mon, 21 Nov 1994, Paul C. Zurkowski wrote:
> I'm currently working a 1967 Mini Cooper S (Radford) which until last
> winter had been very dependable fun car. But last January, for the
> second year in a row, a problem with one of the daily drivers required
> the use of the Mini for the drive to work. Luck would have it, the
> Mini was buried in snow and ice above the wheels. I dug the car out
> and it started right up, but began to fill the back yard with white
> smoke. The next day it used 2 quarts of oil to get to work. Since,
> I have rebuilt the head, hardened seats, new guides ect, thinking it
> was a head gasket. There were no obvious signs of gasket failure
> though. Once back together the white smoke screen behind the car
> continued for about 10-15 miles then stopped. I initially thought
Hmmmm... I may have the answer to this conundrum. (Yes, yes, I know,
conundrums can break, but they are better than no protection at all.)
I once parked my Sunbeam Alpine for the winter with the tanks full, as per
everyone's instructions. A brief warm spell came in Jan., so I decided to
take it for a spin to lubricate things. When I stopped at the first
corner, I was engulfed in smoke. I looked behind me, and the street was
filled with light-colored smoke, as if I had fogged for mosquitoes.
Cutting to the chase, a float valve had stuck on a carb, and about a
gallon of gas siphoned into the crankcase. I put in new rod bearings as a
prophylactic (I'm on a roll today) measure; it was the first time ever
that I have seen an engine simply dry up when the pan was removed. It did
not leak oil in my face at all.
You say you burned two quarts of oil on the way to work; I assume you'd
have noticed if the oil was high... Wait, did you check the oil
immediately upon noticing smoke, or only AFTER you drove to work? If the
latter, you may have burned 4 quarts of mixed oil and gas on the way to
work. It is something to consider. Next time it does it, drain
the oil and smell it.
Ray Gibbons, in Burlington, VT, where yes, we do have malls. A few,
small ones, that hardly merit the name.
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