I got the transmission out. I had to, because the release bearing was stuck in and I figured the throwout plate was bad. It wasn't. The pressure plate wasn't bad, and the pushrod wasn't bad. I got nothin', as the saying goes.
So I did what every normal person does when they are faced with a problem they can't diagnose - I decided to throw parts at it. It worked with the distributor.....
Throwing parts at the car would require finding a pressure plate. A 190mm one, to be exact. I called. And called. And called. Finally, I found a shop that could get me one overnight. Yippee! All would be well in Rabbitland today.
Yeah, right. Even I know that the driven plate and pressure plate have to match in diameter. Is there a reason Valeo doesn't?
The only explanation is that the Volkswagen gods must hate me. Because I still got nothin'. Not even a clutch.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Weight from the shoulders...
This weekend, I got around to working on a project that has been haunting me for over a year. One year, one month, and 26 days, to be exact.
On 30 June of last year, I ran my project car nearly dry of oil. I was so excited to have good weather that I grabbed a fresh battery (spare me the lecture, I forgot to take the ground off over the winter) and fired her up without performing basic PMs. I then drove the car happily for three weeks until it began squealing in a very frightening manner. Of course, I had to have it towed from work. This added the proverbial insult to injury because my day job involves the lubrication of assorted industrial processes, and I am supposed to understand the basic concepts of oil pressure an preventive maintenance. Even worse, I have an oil pressure gauge in the car that I could have simply checked once in a while.
I had the bottom end pulled apart and the main bearings fished out within a week. I found that they weren't bad so much from my failure to maintain oil pressure, but at 156K miles, pretty much trashed from previous owners' poor maintenance practices. It sounds like I'm copping out, but at least I can claim expertise in analyzing bearing failure - it's part of my job. I carry those bearing shells with me as a reminder to always check pressure and do PMs. I scouted around for a new used engine and swapped it in in less than a week of hour-here, hour-there worknights. The great part was I did it almost completely by myself, only asking for assistance with the final locating of the mounts.
Excited and proudly full of myself for the quick swap, I tried to start it. It wouldn't fire. I gave up after about a week of fooling around with it, doing every diagnostic in the book without finding the source of the problem. Then I cried. I was angry at myself for not being able to figure it out. In frustration, I mentally shelved the car for nearly a year. I'm very singular about DIY - I hate asking for help. I want to be able to say I did it myself and mean it.
About a month ago, I went out and grabbed (yet another) fresh battery (and a charger) and started fooling around with it again. I'd managed to shake most of the guilt I felt for taking up garage space and the fear of not being able to figure it out. That fear was paralyzing me. I didn't find the fault, but I did start to feel better about the possibility of getting the car running again.
Friday afternoon, a friend called up and offered to help out. I decided to get over myself and accept the help. Three hours of diagnostics (all positive), a trip to the parts store, and the decision to start throwing parts at the car (a decision I repeatedly refused to make when arguing with myself), and the engine fired strongly for the first time since being removed from its previous host. We let it idle for a bit while calling up other friends to share the sweet exhaust note over our cell phones. I would drive to work on Monday. My demon was exorcised, if for a few precious minutes. A third friend showed up to return a tool while we were enjoying our successful day and broke the reverie. The clutch was soft, and I'd been hoping to get his foot in there as he's got plenty of experience with the same setup. He infomed me that after all of my pain with the engine, either the clutch was toast or the throwout pin was broken, and I most certainly was NOT driving it to work on monday.
The engine is already chained up and the chassis is in the air. I have a spare known-good transmission in the garage and a clutchpack is available same day from my tuner. Let's hope I can get this problem solved in less than a year. I want to drive my car again. I miss her and what she does for my soul.
And yes, I unhooked my ground this time.
On 30 June of last year, I ran my project car nearly dry of oil. I was so excited to have good weather that I grabbed a fresh battery (spare me the lecture, I forgot to take the ground off over the winter) and fired her up without performing basic PMs. I then drove the car happily for three weeks until it began squealing in a very frightening manner. Of course, I had to have it towed from work. This added the proverbial insult to injury because my day job involves the lubrication of assorted industrial processes, and I am supposed to understand the basic concepts of oil pressure an preventive maintenance. Even worse, I have an oil pressure gauge in the car that I could have simply checked once in a while.
I had the bottom end pulled apart and the main bearings fished out within a week. I found that they weren't bad so much from my failure to maintain oil pressure, but at 156K miles, pretty much trashed from previous owners' poor maintenance practices. It sounds like I'm copping out, but at least I can claim expertise in analyzing bearing failure - it's part of my job. I carry those bearing shells with me as a reminder to always check pressure and do PMs. I scouted around for a new used engine and swapped it in in less than a week of hour-here, hour-there worknights. The great part was I did it almost completely by myself, only asking for assistance with the final locating of the mounts.
Excited and proudly full of myself for the quick swap, I tried to start it. It wouldn't fire. I gave up after about a week of fooling around with it, doing every diagnostic in the book without finding the source of the problem. Then I cried. I was angry at myself for not being able to figure it out. In frustration, I mentally shelved the car for nearly a year. I'm very singular about DIY - I hate asking for help. I want to be able to say I did it myself and mean it.
About a month ago, I went out and grabbed (yet another) fresh battery (and a charger) and started fooling around with it again. I'd managed to shake most of the guilt I felt for taking up garage space and the fear of not being able to figure it out. That fear was paralyzing me. I didn't find the fault, but I did start to feel better about the possibility of getting the car running again.
Friday afternoon, a friend called up and offered to help out. I decided to get over myself and accept the help. Three hours of diagnostics (all positive), a trip to the parts store, and the decision to start throwing parts at the car (a decision I repeatedly refused to make when arguing with myself), and the engine fired strongly for the first time since being removed from its previous host. We let it idle for a bit while calling up other friends to share the sweet exhaust note over our cell phones. I would drive to work on Monday. My demon was exorcised, if for a few precious minutes. A third friend showed up to return a tool while we were enjoying our successful day and broke the reverie. The clutch was soft, and I'd been hoping to get his foot in there as he's got plenty of experience with the same setup. He infomed me that after all of my pain with the engine, either the clutch was toast or the throwout pin was broken, and I most certainly was NOT driving it to work on monday.
The engine is already chained up and the chassis is in the air. I have a spare known-good transmission in the garage and a clutchpack is available same day from my tuner. Let's hope I can get this problem solved in less than a year. I want to drive my car again. I miss her and what she does for my soul.
And yes, I unhooked my ground this time.
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