Of Doctors and Chips

I've always been accused of being a hypochondriac when it comes to cars.You know the sort of thing,the slightest noise heralded impending doom;a squeak was imminent suspension failure,a whine most likely meant the transmission and final drive were due to pack in,or if I was lucky just a wheel-bearing on the way out.Sooo, bearing this in mind you can imagine the old hypochondria kicking in good and strong when we got to Cornwall and they'd just re-surfaced the road in some town or other;you know the kind of thing,layer of tar and sprinkle liberally with stone chippings and let the windscreen replacement boys have a second birthday.Previous to entering said town our CX had performed flawlessly,no nasty noises so I'd had a stress-free drive. Stopping at a junction and then moving off again produced a disturbing grinding noise.After imagining all sorts of dire problems,I reversed the car a couple of feet and tried again.Nothing, not a sound, back to normal.The CX has rear disc brakes with a shield behind each disc and of course a stone chip had got itself wedged between disc and shield,making the grinding noise.Reversing pushed the stone back out.I decided perhaps I'd turn a deaf ear to all but the worst sounds in the future.

Of Frogs and Man-Bags

Was talking to my brother the other day and we got onto the subject of the FiatX1/9 which he had some time ago.This was probably one of the prettiest cars I've seen.I don't mean that in a sneery,wussy way,it genuinely was a well styled,finely carved little two-seater.It looked like you could pick it up,put it under your arm and walk off with it and be proud to be seen with it,either under your arm,like a Gucci man-bag or sitting in it.Even stationary it looked like it was doing 90,which was probably as fast as you'd want to go,sitting that low on the ground.It'd feel more like 180.That reminds me of my mate's Frog-eyed Sprite,that would go under an artic.I know because we very nearly did after a bout of over-enthusiastic braking.Less said...Anyway,the little Fiat came in a fetching lime green,with pop-up lights and tiny alloy wheels.I think some of my model cars had bigger wheels...But there's no getting away from it,the car handled like all cars should,like a dream.And so it should,with a low centre of gravity and the engine sitting just behind your ears,so it seemed,it couldn't help itself but stick to the road like,er,jam to a baby's bib.For a sports car I think it was pretty reliable,the only issue I remember having to sort out was the gear linkage,which was exposed to any slight hump in the road.Catch the linkage on a rock,say, and you lost half the gears.A judicious thump wth a fist on the levers usually sorted it but it was that sensitive to ,um,external influences.

Of Train and Rain

The ride on the CX was always legendary as can be seen by the following. Mum has always been a nervous passenger, not exactly a back seat driver but close, and anything over 30 or 40 got the inevitable "slow down" warning.So a drive from Liverpool to Launceston in Cornwall promised to be a lengthy journey.But the CX surprised me on two counts.We were cruising nicely,as I thought,until I glanced at the speedometer.I'd anticipated we were probably doing about the legal 70; when I saw the actual speed I nearly choked.ThenI asked Dad what speed he thought we were doing. His guess was about the same, roughly 70.I told him to have a look. We were doing 110mph. When we checked on Mum she was sound asleep in the back. It seemed a shame to wake her, so I just eased the speed down to around the legal limit. Just as well, because we drove through a cloudburst a moment later, couldn't see a thing, save the rear fog lights on the car in front. So there we all were,playing trains at 80,all too scared to slow down in case it caused an accident,all desperately maintaining a constant speed.That was a few minutes I wouldn't want to live again.No sir.

Of DS and CX and USA

One thing that attracted me to the Citroen CX,amongst others, was the fact that the previous owner had fitted a stainless steel exhaust system and over the time I had the car,about 2 years,the system remained looking brand new and with no 'blowing' or rot in sight.Well worth getting if possible,bearing in mind the average life of a mild steel exhaust is about 18 months.

Like the DS before it,the CX's spare wheel lived under the bonnet(hood) along with the jack equipment and spare can of the mineral fluid for the suspension,which gives you some idea of the size of the engine compartment. Which is nothing compared to the space under the bonnet of an old American motor that came into the garage I worked at.When the boss popped the hood I swear I could have sat in there with the engine,a diminutive-looking block surrounded by acres(I've told you a million times to stop exaggerating,ed.) well,it seemed like it,of space.Amazing!

Of Slipping and Reversing

Bear with me a moment but I'm having a flashback moment.That's what I call it anyway.Was just remembering my Citroen CX,which I mentioned briefly at the start of this blog.If the DS was my ultimate vehicle,then the CX is second favourite.It's got to be said not everyone was thrilled with the dashboard,'quirky' was probably the kindest thing you could say.Needless to say,I loved it.Getting behind the wheel was like getting into an aircraft and as for that self-centering steering,well,all you needed was one finger to guide the beast.

But the first few days of ownership weren't all that rosy.On the test drive before buying it,I picked up on that the clutch was slipping,only slightly,but slipping even so.After the garage had swapped the clutch I drove it home,glorious! So it was more than a little disappointing to find on going on a longer drive that the engine stuttered then finally packed it in altogether.After a few minutes it restarted and got me home again. Back in the garage dad and I built (maybe you remember),the condenser in the distributor got checked since that may have been overheating and failing.Whatever I checked didn't show up anything that convinced me I'd found the problem.Finally,in desperation,the multi-meter came out and was connected across the low-voltage terminals on the coil.Turned out what should have been the earth was live and what should have been live was,you guessed it,the earth.The poor coil was acting like a little electric fire,must've been heck inside that steel can.Once the leads were reversed,to the way they should have been,the car ran like the proverbial dream.

Remember me mentioning the alarm system on the Carina? Well it's all very good making a car theft proof,not so great when the system turns bandit on the car's owner. Not that the alarm became faulty,not a bit of it,rather it became too good at its job.The battery had shown signs of giving up for a while so it didn't surprise me when the car wouldn't start one day.Tried and checked everything so it was off to the local motor factors for a new battery.And that's where the fun starts,because on this alarm system you're supposed to isolate the control box with a special key otherwise the electronics get confused. Of course,this being an old,second-hand car,the said key hadn't been passed on to me.It mightn't have been the best command decision I ever made but I pressed on and took the old battery off and bolted on the new one.No siren,no disturbing events;maybe all was well.Hah! The car let me in but turning the key in the ignition was a noisy affair,that siren produced some serious decibels.Going back under the bonnet to disconnect the battery wasn't a pleasant experience either.After a few more attempts and getting deafened in the process I gave up and left the battery disconnected.Curiously,the usually helpful local garage rapidly stepped back from this problem and recommended an auto-electrician they knew,who came round in half an hour and removed the entire alarm system, that being the cheapest solution,besides he was going on holiday in an hour or so,and time was of the essence.I wasn't bothered so long as I got the car back in a going condition,which I did.Cheap at the thirty quid it cost.

Yes,I admit it,it was my own fault.One winter I had to take she who must be obeyed(hereafter known as 'the Missus') to see a specialist a fair way from home.It was bitterly cold but the old Carina got us there without a hint of trouble;no,it saved that for when we pulled into the nearby car park and I turned the engine off.There was a slight 'phut',like a polite cough,and steam erupted everywhere.I suggested to the missus that something might be amiss but she had other things on her mind.After seeing the doctor I found what I expected to find,that the old radiator had given up in view of the icy weather and had leaked water until dry.I hadn't put anti-freeze in because in the past it had caused leaks and I didn't want the trouble.Well,I had real trouble now,about twenty miles from home and no coolant.A pint or two of water usually resides in an old bleach bottle in the boot and this went in the radiator, and promptly out again through the rather impressive hole at the front.You won't believe this,or perhaps you will if you've owned a Toyota, but we drove home without a problem,if you discount me sweating every inch of the way,silently willing the car to keep going.The only sign of trouble was when we got into our road and an interesting knocking could be heard,as the big-ends protested about the excessive heat.

Next day we fitted a new radiator,filled up with water,crossed our fingers and started up.That was about eighteen months ago and the car's still going great.Without anti-freeze!