Project Chronicle

I like to consider myself a pretty smart guy, but sometimes, there's cause to question this belief. After the first big snow we've received since moving to Maryland, I was (angirly) moving vehicles to shovel around them. 

Amazingly, the E55 on summer tires crawled out of its space; the same as the recently-arrived 500E. The G500 and my wife's LX460 all moved out of their spaces with ease. The one exception? The truck that should be the most capable in any off-road conditions, the 1989 Isuzu Trooper RS. However, it was righteously stuck. Would not move. And man, did that rub me the wrong way. 

Well, it occurred to me a few days later that the Isuzu has manual locking Aisin hubs (which, coincidentally, are fairly desirable as these pre-date the change from being made in Japan to countries like China.) So, if you wish to engage 4WD, you need to lock the hubs. 

Yep. Not as smart as I'd like to believe. 

The good news is, with the hubs locked, the Trooper is an absolute rock star in the rough stuff. It clawed and climbed its way through the modest snow-covered hill in my backyard. Now I'm absolutely craving some time in the genuine back country, along with an owner's manual on how to properly use four-wheel drive. 

I have been enjoying my time with the '02 G500 I bought back in July. It's a treat to drive; the color is gorgeous; and it is far better as a daily driver than any ex-military vehicle has a right to be. It's also been surprisingly reliable, with the only maintenance performed so far is addressing some oil leaks flagged by the PPI I had done prior to purchase. 

Well, it had to happen. There had to be a reminder that I'm driving a truck with 150,000 miles on it. The first sign was a no-start condition outside a store after driving the truck for an hour. And then, it happened again outside an neighbor's house. Finally, in what was a worst case scenario, the truck died while running in the school drop-off line for my kids.

I had it towed - with some suspicions confirmed by my mechanic. Over the summer, when left to sit for a week, the truck was dead when I came back to it. So, the battery was losing a charge when not used, In addition, the G-Class is known to suffer from faulty crankshaft position sensors, and mine was full of oil from a slightly weepy rear main seal. Put two and two together and a bad alternator, likely killed off by our cold snap, and a crankshaft position sensor overdue for replacement, and you have a periodic no-start and shut-down when idling. 

I got word today that the hardtop I spent the past year obsessing over - should I, shouldn't I - was leaving the workshop in France, headed for JFK and then onto Baltimore. This is a big gamble on my end, as it cost a fair bit of money and I certainly hope it makes it here in one piece. 

The rational has always been this: buy a Porsche 964 cabriolet, the cheapest air-cooled on the market by far. With the savings, buy a hardtop from D. Morris in France and effectively have a coupe for about $50K less than what your average 964 hardtop was going for. The company does an incredible job of recreating the factory hardtop that was sold in very limited quantities. They even use OEM Porsche glass and rubber seals. You have to remove the entire soft top mechanism in order to install it, so you're committing to the hardtop in more ways than one. 

The other thought here is that accessories like these don't stick around forever. D. Morris will someday cease to exist and these hardtops will become very sought after. Combine it with the fact that the dark blue paint on the 911 will mask the line between the hardtop and the body and I feel it is a win-win. 

Time will tell if this investment is worth the money and the labor associated with installing it. But I'm confident this is a smart investment in a car that seems to only go up and up. 

My 1992 500E arrived this week, and I have some thoughts. First, I bought this car on the basis of the honesty of the presentation and the seller. The seller, who I believe is a legitimate rocket scientist, had clearly been proactive on some big items, and the 500E had been passed between him and his brother since 2003. 

I feel a paid a very fair price, and with that, comes the expectation that there will be some issues. The bigger and better news is, however, is that the cosmetics were better than expected; the interior smells good; the portfolio of records that accompanied the car are solid; and there's lots of OEM parts, from the glass to the body panels, still affixed. The widebody fenders are much more impressive in person and the car has a great stance. The disclosure about the faded paint was accurate, but the car still looks better than expected. 

The issues seem to stem solely from lack of use. The suspension feels a bit tired. The shifter bushings are non-existent, and make it difficult when cold for the shift selector to move between gears. There's a whine in reverse that has me nervous - these cars are known to need rebuilds of the various clutches in the gearbox - but we'll do the shift bushings first before I start shopping for rebuilt transmission. I don't have records of any major cooling system work, so I'll likely proactively replace the water pump and thermostat. The other major disclosed flaw is an errant battery drain that could be traced back to a replaced under-dash wiring harness, but for now, the seller removed the number 9 fuse which controls things like the flashers to ensure it doesn't drain the battery while it sits.

Overall, a pretty manageable lists aside from some cosmetic repairs, and when complete, I feel confident we'll have a car worth more than the cost of the repairs and purchase price. 

Since I purchased a 1990 911 C4 Cabriolet, I've barely racked up 50 miles on it. Driving has been limited; this is due to a few things, including the fact that I owe a little bit on it and don't want to risk an accident or other adverse event that could impact its value. But there's also the general fear that comes with owning a car like this and that a pricey repair could rear its head at any moment. 

However, I have to admit that after taking it in to my local shop for its annual servicing, it has been a surprisingly reliable vehicle to own with no major issues to report. Now a year in, my shop again confirmed it didn't need much: in fact, the only work I had done was at my own hand, including an oil and filter change; the replacement of the front bumper with a freshly painted bumper cover; battery replacement; and replacement of the heavily chipped front wiper arms after finding a set of NOS arms on eBay.

There was a differential leak flagged when the car first arrived and the shop verified that the leak hadn't changed and was something that could continue to be monitored. Really, this 911 has asked very little of me and everything still works - the windows, locks, rear spoiler, seats, and so on. 

It's also a treat to drive. Unlike my 996, this is a car that is still quite visceral, with pops and burbles and a silky smooth gearbox. It's hard to believe that a 4WD car has both a superior transmission and chassis dynamics over a RWD Carrera, but here we are. 

Overall, even with my limited use, I feel better and better about taking a chance on this C4 Cabriolet from Arkansas - and don't expect to sell it anytime soon. 

Much has been written about the late 80s and middle 90s Mercedes-Benz products. The W124 has long enjoyed favor among enthusiasts owing to the platform's longevity and fairly bulletproof reliability. But I'm here to tell you the next generation - the one that got eyerolls and deep sighs from brand loyalists that didn't like the dramatic redesign - is just as impressive as those older models when it comes to ease of ownership. 

I put some money into my E55 last summer when I first got it, almost all of it proactive in nature (meaning, not urgent). I replaced the shocks with Konis, installed new tires, and replaced the fan clutch. Otherwise....I haven't touched it until last week. This is a high-performance, limited-production super sedan that has needed next to nothing maintenance-wise, and didn't exactly come with a robust service history when I acquired it.

So, it didn't bother me in the least to put some work into this month. There were some errant oil leaks I had been ignoring that were likely to become a problem in the future, but that I had basically lived with for a year to no ill effect. The oil cooler seals, oil filter housing gasket, and valve cover gaskets were replaced, and I had the coolant flushed while it was in the shop. That's it, and I don't foresee any mechanical needs arising in the near term. 

For a factory hot rod, there's no denying that there's usually a maintenance penalty that comes with the need for increased upkeep. Not the E55, however - it's a unicorn in so many ways, not the least of which is its ability to maintain its high-performance status without becoming a maintenance hog. 

It has been years since I had a hobby car I made an excuse to drive. Despite having an ongoing rotation of vehicles stretching back about a decade now, it hasn't been since my departed 1995 M3 that I tried to find excuses to get out for a drive - but I've found that in the car infamously known as the clownshoe. 

The 2002 BMW Z3 M Coupe is quickly nestling its way into my cold, dead heart, blending together all the rubber-bands-and-bubble-gum construction of an E36 car that I find so endearing along with the bonkers S54 powetrain that has all the smoothness of a classic BMW I6 but actually wants to rev to 9,000. Combine that with the classic BMW traits of the door being at the perfect height for your elbow and the fact that this car is tiny! - my head hits the ceiling - and you have a vehicle like nothing else on the road. It's what I imagine it's like to drive a TVR with airbags and ABS.

All in all, I am so happy I took a chance on this forgotten breadvan, and I'm eager to correct its remaining ills to bring it all the way back as soon as possible. 

After selling my 996-chassis Porsche 911, I was pretty relieved to be done with the looming threat of bore scoring and a replacement IMS replacement to my existing IMS replacement. The fear mongering was pretty intense, from both fellow owners to individuals who own shops that service 911s. The makers of IMS kits are now suggesting that you may need to replace your original replacement, which is a big change from the "one and done" approach. And even if your car has no evidence of bore scoring, there are legions of enthusiasts who will say your car probably has the issue. 

I hate to admit this, but it got to the point that I couldn't enjoy the car. That being said, I didn't like it that much to begin with, so it wasn't all that heart breaking to see it go. So now, with this in mind and the 2001 Z3 M coupe in the garage, we move to the next persistent threat: rod bearings. In the BMW world, rod bearing replacement is the equivalent of IMS replacement for Porsche owners, but with perhaps less risk because your engine won't instantly blow up but rather slowly degrade.

When I got the Z3 M Coupe, there, of course, was not evidence of bearing replacement, so this was first on the menu. However, once the original rod bearings were replaced, it was evident they were in fine shape and could have remained installed for years to come. Should I have had them done? Well, most M car enthusiasts would say it's worth the insurance and comfort of knowing the job has been done, but I could have delayed the job and dealt with some other more pressing maintenance needs in the meantime. 

Regardless, the condition of the original bearings suggests a history of frequent oil changes and lack of abuse, so there's the silver lining - along with knowing I won't have to tackle this job for years to come. 

The M Coupe went to the shop this week for the long-awaited rod bearing servicing. As part of this, the engine mounts and oil pan gasket will also be replaced. Since I was waiting for both the title paperwork to come through and to avoid driving it without the bearings done, the car hasn't seen much use except for around the neighborhood. As such, one of the main concerns was how notchy the gearbox was. I'm happy to say, those concerns have all but dissolved after taking it on a meaningful cruise. 

The transmission became much easier to live with within 10 minutes of driving as the fluid warmed up; otherwise, there were no surprises with this car despite four years of inactivity. When I got to the shop this week, the front subframe had been dropped and in looking under the car, I was pleased to see how many OEM stickers were still present on parts; some, like the shocks, are original Sachs units that will need to eventually be replaced, but it's amazing how stock this example remains. 

The transmission notchiness could be explained by the fact that it had the incorrect fluid. In addition, the rear subframe is mint with zero popped welds. The engine internals are beautiful with no signs of metal shavings or any other damage. I will need tires but I knew that; otherwise, there have been no ugly surprises thus far.