Need a hand? Luckily, young Sidney was still on a adrenaline high from his tennis victory. Another lesson; those Prius guys are really not so bad.
Guessing something loose in the ignition system. The traditional way was hot rodders helping others then p***ing out club cards to improve the public perception. Sure hope Joey's track record holds and he doesn't have to require more ***istance. He will have to print out thank you cards to give to strangers helping him!
Check those coil connections bruh, I stalled out on 92 trying to merge onto 280 and it turned out my wire on the hot side of the ballast resistor was barely touching. Simple things first! I was stuck there for a while on the side of the merge ramp before I popped under the dash and it slapped me right in the face. I felt dumb after calling the car every creative obscenity I could come up with.
The amount of times I frustratedly blown **** out of a fuel filter on the side of the highway is more than a few. but he’s right. It is just part of it. great post. a photo of solidarity, somewhere in… Kansas maybe? Hours into a frustrating drive home taking some shelter in the shade of a farm driveway.
With my roadster...it was always one of the 2 condensers (Harmon Collins dual point/dual coil). Once I recognized the suspect quality, I carried a couple spares at all times.
Rescued a guy and his wife in a 1920s Austin last year. I’ve never seen a flathead head gasket fail so comprehensively, every head bolt had coolant coming out of it. Had a cup of tea at his house and went back on my journey, then backed into a car in the parking lot. No good dead goes unpunished!
Reminded of the young lady who gave my wife and I a lift from Montvale to Lynchburg in 11deg weather in her CORVETTE of all things... wife sat on my lap. Had a '72 Ford Custom (base model of the Galaxie body) with a 302 and a clogged fuel filter stall out on my way to the VA in Salem. Fun times. Almost 40 years ago now.
My wife and I were getting a VCR tape at our local video store in our 57 Thunderbird. It was a nice summer night and the top was off the TBird. Got the tape, went to start the car and the starter drive spring broke. After that the starter would just spin. The TBird is light and we live in a small town so I told the wife that we could just push it home. A guy and his son came out of the video store and asked if they could help. So there are 4 of us pushing the TBird down the street when a cop showed up. I explained what was going on and he said he would follow us so we would be more visible. His car had a big push bumper that lined up with the TBird well. Told him that if he could push me up to about 25 mph, I could probably get the car to start. He did, it started, no marring on my bumper. I thanked everyone and drove it home.
In 1974 I was driving back from my future wife's parents' home in Connecticut to Woods Hole, MA where my ship was based. I was most of the way there, when my '70 Datsun pickup just died. It was 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning in a remote rural area. No houses, no businesses, nothing around. It was very foggy, couldn't see very far at all. I coasted off to the side of the road, opened the hood, didn't see anything amiss. Did everything I could think of and no go, couldn't get it started. The ship was getting underway at 6 a.m., and I saw my career and my life p***ing away in my mind. This was decades before cell phones, so I was on my own. I sat on the side of the road and just tried to reflect, relax, let it go, and think that whatever it is, will be ok. A little background on the truck: I had previously pulled all the anti-smog **** (air pump and plumbing to all the cylinders, etc.), also pulled the carb and replaced it with a constant flow fuel injector made for a snowmobile. It ran soooo much better after that. Anyway, after a while, a car pulled over and stopped. Couldn't believe it because the driver couldn't have seen me parked along the side because the vis was so low. Anyway, an older man got out and came up and asked me what was wrong. I told him what happened, and he nodded, and asked if I had a screwdriver, so I got him one. He pulled off the air cleaner, and stuck the screwdriver down the fuel injector and banged the throttle plate loose. He said for some reason it had become jammed. He said to try to start it up, which I did, and it started right up, and ran great. By the time I got out to thank him profusely, he was already driving off. There is no way he could have known what was wrong and how to fix it with normal knowledge. To this day, I believe it was a guardian angel taking care of me. That was something I'll never forget. Anyway, got back to the ship just as it was ready to cast off lines. No harm, no foul. A lot of stress relieved.
The Jalopy Journal
