Monday, June 25, 2018

Things assemble more quickly than they disassemble

Project (Fr)Audi continues.

Receiving all of the parts last week, I took the plunge and started reassembling. 

But where to begin this jigsaw puzzle?  There is an order to these things, and it's not entirely evident which major subsystem should receive the attention first. I concluded that I could get the exhaust started.  So I took the plunge and cut the wires of the old oxygen sensors, then pulled out the catalytic converter section, which runs from the exhaust manifold over the drive shafts and under the body to the mid pipe section.  A twist, a turn, and out it came with the stubs of the old oxygen sensors in place.  Could I have saved the originals?  Possibly.  Were new ones expensive? Moderately, at ~$80 each, qty. 4.  But after an hour of struggling, I'd managed to get one of the easy ones out and decided to just cut them.  Out came the pipe; easy peasy.  New Oxygen sensors were double-checked for which one went in which position and, anti-seize in place, loaded, strung through, and the new catalytic converter pipe went in and hooked up to the studs surprisingly easily.  Fifteen minutes tops.  And then all the wires, sensors, connectors, tubes, and whatnot on that side of the engine bay went back together.  Also very quick and easy.  A double check and I was done there.

Until.

I looked at the other side's matching cat-pipe.  Huh, only one hole for an oxygen sensor where there should have been two.  Can't be right.  It wasn't.  I called up the manufacturer today, verified it should have had two, and concluded it was mis-manufactured and slipped past quality control.  Back to Rock Auto she went for an exchange.

What else to do?  Well, I wrangled the new steering rack in.  I had assembled the new tie-rod ends on using the old rack as a guide for rough total width and positioning of the tie-rods with respect to the rack itself.  Close, but with all this work it will need a full alignment.  It will probably be the easiest one the shop has ever done, with everything all new and not rusted into place.  Getting the rack in was like giving birth, in reverse, as it just clears this edge and that firewall with a bit of angling, spinning, and, um, persuasion.  Then you've got to bolt it down from the top in the headwall where the brake reservoir and other fiddly bits live.  Two from the top and one from the bottom.  As the previous owner left it without the one from the bottom, so did I.  Not the way I like to do things, but not the end of the world.  A bit more difficult yet is getting the banjo bolts that hold the hydraulic feed and return lines into place.  You can barely get a wrench onto those, and execute 1/12th of a turn.  Patience and sore muscles.  But they're on.  Back in the driver's seat I hooked up the steering wheel and put together all the trim covering the interior.  Done and done.

On to the suspension.  I'd already put the new struts into the spring assembly, so it was on to the big-box-o-control-arms to sort driver from passenger sets of upper and lower control arms (eight in all) and sway bar connectors and then open up the big-bag-o-nuts-and-bolts to figure out which ones went where.  It's a good thing I had marked up the old ones as I removed them, and kept most of the bolts pointing in the proper direction.  I think I have that puzzle solved, although when finished, I think I'm going to have two spare bolts.  We'll see.  They may be for the sway bar connectors.

What lies ahead?

Too much, unfortunately.  I was replacing the brake cables, but in removing them from the caliper, I think I spied one of my root causes for lousy braking- the caliper pistons are rusted to heck.  I can't imagine what they look like under their dust seals, but it's got to be bad.  Calipers are relatively cheap to buy, but I'm concerned about the bit of metal tube brake line that runs from the caliper to the brake hose.  One of the brake hoses refuses to break free and I'm stripping the nut.  Images of new calipers online don't show that they come with the brake line, so... where to source that?  Will I find the same problem at the rears when I go to replace them?

I still have to put together a whole suspension side, including the drive shaft, the control arms with their ball joints into the steering knuckle, then the drive shaft, then the upper control arms and tie rod ends, and then tightening the various bushings while the weight is on the wheel to pre-load the suspension. 

But things do go together more quickly than they come apart.  At least so far.  Maybe in a couple of weeks I'll have it running.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Strutting can be exhausting

Although Old Blue is gone, I still have three Audis, and that means work.

I've taken this week and next off to do some vacation time.  We really haven't a clue how to do vacations here at casa del Toadroller.  Part of most people's reasoning for vacations is to get away from it all.  When we look at our lives, we're already away from it all, so... this time two weeks off is just a longer break than usual.

I had designs on a three-day motorcycle journey to see a college friend earlier this week, but my route would have taken me, by necessity and choice, through New Hampshire.  Trouble is that New Hampshire is celebrating Bike Week this week, and is overrun with tens of thousands of fellow motorcycling enthusiasts.  I severely doubt that a ride across the Kancamagus would have been the solo, introspective trip I wanted it to be.  So maybe towards the end of next week after all the birthdays are done.

Yep.  I'm turning fifty next Wednesday.  This has nothing to do with my penchant for fast cars and motorcycles.  Nothing at all.

Over the last year, I've been debating replacing the catalytic converters in the silver Audi, which we call the Fraudi, as it was originally acquired for Mrs. Toadroller.  I've done a long list of fixes small and large on the car, ranging from a replacement headlight switch to having the timing belt done.  All along the way, though, the engine code has been on for bad catalytic converters.  At 180-something thousand miles, I think we've gotten our fair distance from them.  But it's a big job.  Hard to get to nuts, lots of assemblies to disassemble, and lots of blind reaches with special (improvised in the field) tools and forum writeups and videos giving you almost but not quite enough information to go on.  I asked about for a price and was told a cost of catalytic converters alone that were more than the car was worth.  Further research showed I could get after-markets engineered for the exact model, engine, transmission, and enough evidence that others had success with them.  All for a price that was reasonable.

Then, in February, driving one of the Taller Toadrollers to driver's ed, the exhaust gave way where the center pipe meets the muffler and garowwwwwlll I had myself an open-pipe sports car.  So off in the corner it was parked, to be buried by ice and snow until I had enough room and time to take it on.  Come late March/early April we had our thaw and I moved it into the garage, with the thought that its taking of the Merc's primary parking spot would be incentive enough to git-er-dun.

Except one thing leads to another.  Yes, the mufflers needed to be replaced.  Yes, the mid pipe too.  And of course the cats, which start at the end of the manifold.  So that's everything.

Except one thing leads to another.  To get to some of the nuts that hold her exhaust system on, I needed to get the tie-rods removed from the steering.  Wouldn't you know that the through-bolt that holds the tie rod in place to the steering knuckle was frozen.  Couldn't heat, bang, parts-blast, or impact-gun that thing out.  I don't own an air hammer.  Yet.  Regardless, I was in there now, and as the steering rack has always been... inconsistent... with this car, I might as well get that done.  But to get that out I really needed to get the steering knuckle out of the way, and besides, one of the struts was leaking and they were original.  To get the strut assembly out, you only have to remove a 4 inch pinch bolt. 

Which led to... Meeting a guy that runs his own little machine shop on the other side of Augusta.  Does a lot of contract machining and engineering work but will, on occasion, do smaller jobs like drilling out frozen pinch bolts.  I did manage to get the struts out, but had to bring the steering knuckle and control arms with them.  Hardly standard operating procedure, but there was no way of getting that pinch bolt out.  So I brought them over.  He looked at them.  Said he'd just done the same control arm job for his daughter on a VW Passat, which is the same car as my Audi.  He was a true Mainer- strong opinions he'll explain, and he'll be teaching you what you're doing wrong along the way even if you weren't.  Not sure what it is about Maine, but I've run into this demeanor before and simply recognize it and accept the lesson I may or may not have needed.  They've learned the proper way the hard way, and they're intent on helping you avoid a learning curve. 

He was a busy guy, couldn't promise when he'd get to it, didn't like to take these jobs too often, don't call me, I'll call you, might be two weeks.  I related a little of my story and he realized two weeks wasn't a big deal, that I wasn't in a rush, that he was in charge of his world.  Then I asked him about the BMW R/75 from the early 80s out front.  "I bought that one brand new," he beamed of his bimmer, and then proceeded to confess that he's currently got seven different ones, all of which he's bought brand new.  So we talked for fifteen minutes about motorcycles and long rides and Audis and what-not.  It's interesting who you meet along the way.  I shook his hand and thanked him for attempting the job.  He couldn't promise success, but he'd try.

I got a call the next morning.  Come get 'em.  I commented that the two weeks had gone by in a flash and he offered to call me in two weeks if that's what I preferred.  Maine.  They were sons-of-bitches to get out, but they were done. Showed me where he'd cleaned some things off, where he'd used his air hammer, how much heat he'd needed- my propane wouldn't have been enough, no.  Score the hole with a drill a little - not too  much- and it'll give the anti-seize a place to dig in and last.  Use anti-seize on everything, you're in Maine now.  Yes, sir.

Another adventure in car repair.

You get the picture.  When I'm done (and I think I'm about 60% of the way there), this thing will have a whole new front end: All control arms and bushings, new struts and associated bushings and bellows, new steering rack and tie-rods, new exhaust from the manifold back.  Except one thing leads to another.  Did I mention that the brakes have always sucked?  New performance pads all around, turned rotors (if I can find anyone to do them.  These were relatively new rotors anyway, only a few thousand miles on them), as it turns out new brake hoses (I'll go with stainless steel braided like some kid in his twenties), and possibly new calipers.  You know what?  Heck. I'm getting new calipers too.

And after all that, a windshield, an alignment, a sticker, and... I'm not letting the kids touch it.

Thursday, June 7, 2018

Hundred dollah car.

Today, my old A8 found its proper new home.

Yesterday, I went to run an errand and decided to take Old Blue.  I got to the top of the driveway and suddenly an engine stumble.  I've been down this path a few times before.  I could say with certainty it was one of three $50 things to fix it.  I parked it, went inside for keys to another vehicle in the Toadroller stable, and told Mrs. Toadroller it was time.  

At the counter at Autozone on an unrelated oil purchase, I mentioned it to the clerk.  Said I should just let it go.  You know, $100 bucks.*  Kid working the next register perked up.  "$100 bucks?  Does it run?"  Yes, it even passed inspection.  It's no beauty queen.  He took my name.  Called later.  He and his buddies tune VWs and Audis.  "So you know what you're getting into then."

A month ago I was thinking up drafts of humorous "Thousand dollar car!" ads for Craigslist.  But second thoughts had me thinking $700.  Then $500.  Then $250.  It wasn't about the money.  Heck, it will cost more than that to register it.*  Maine's registration fees are a bit silly, based on a percentage of original retail price, so even at 21 years old, it cost me ~$300 for the year.

Fifteen and a half years and 194,000 miles ago I found her, shiny, five years old, and 73k miles on her.  $18,900 for a $65,000 luxury-sport sedan that still, in her bones, is more sophisticated, sporty, comfortable, and fun to drive than my much newer E- Mercedes.

An hour ago, I handed the kid the keys.  Showed him the power rear window screen.  Watched it float up and out of my driveway.*  I wouldn't be surprised to see it around town.  Twenty-year-olds without kids and with ambition and ingenuity can make magic happen.

So long, Old Blue.  I love you.  I promised myself I wouldn't cry.  But I can tear up a little, right?

Poetic 365.jpg

* I don't know if you can tell, but I can.  I've been reading T.R. Pearson again.  It comes through in my writing style.