So, I haven't updated this thing in...well, quite some time. Since my most recent update, I've traveled to Connecticut and New Jersey, gotten a dog, turned 27, and jumped head first into the...um...wonderful? world of multiple car ownership.
As some of you may know, I've been considering the purchase of a Porsche 944 for as long as I can remember. It isn't the fastest car ever made, but it handles phenomenally, looks totally sweet and is a good car to learn to wrench/drive on. So, in a deal which seems more and more suspect every day, I agreed that if my lovely wife could get a dog, I could get my 944. Well, we now have both, and they are both decidedly more trouble than either of us first imagined.
I had a good idea of my budget and what I was looking for, because I had been looking on and off for several years. I ultimately decided on a car in Connecticut with low mileage but little (no) service history. After a couple of inspections and a new set of tires, I was on a train up there to go get it. So, here is the severly condensed version of my trip:
Friday morning -- Train to Connecticut from DC. The train is an incredibly unappealing way to travel on the east coast, by the way...unless you enjoy seeing the shadier parts of New Jersey, the back of the Newark airport, and every junk/scrap yard in a six state area.
Friday afternoon -- Cab from the train station to the house where I am to pick up my new automobile. I never met the guy I bought it from...it was at his house with the keys and title inside. I got on the road for NJ, with a quick stop at some random bank for a pen and some scotch tape. I'm sure they thought I was robbing the place.
Friday late afternoon -- After a few hours of stressful rush hour driving between CT and NJ (lots of listening to every weird noise made by my car and looking at the temperature gauge) I arrived at Ryan's new house for his housewarming party. Got the three dollar tour, drank some beers and waited for the onslaught of Jersey folk.
Friday night -- Party at the Captain's. Met all his real estate friends, drank lots, ate/grilled lots, did some celebrity hot tubbin', and slept on a couch cushion in the unfurnished dining room. Ryan may have been more drunk than I've ever seen another human being.
Saturday morning -- Got up, made sure Ryan was still alive, said my goodbyes to my crw and got on the road.
Saturday afternoon -- Arrived at the bottom of the NJTP. Celebrated this milestone on the side of the road in the rain, with my car which no longer runs.
I'll step out of the list for a moment here to explain.... I went through the express toll lane at the end of the turnpike at the perscribed 55 mph. I accellerated out of the toll, and the car stopped running. Wouldn't turn over, wouldn't do anything. I pulled off into the left shoulder and planned my next move. A few minutes later, a very helpful NJ State Trooper showed up and called me a tow truck. Fortunately for me, he was neither fased by nor interested in my lack of license plates. Eventually the tow truck showed up, and after much confusion as to how to lash the car to his rig, I was on my way again. He left me at the Flying J in Carney's Point, NJ and absconded with my new toy. I got to experience some of the local color and attempt to hitchike back to DC (or Wilmington, at least) for two hours while I waited for a cab. Suprisingly, there are some very strange people at the Flying J in Carney's Point. Who would have thought? Anyway, the cab showed up, and $30 later, I was at the train station in Wilmington, DE.
Saturday evening -- Defeated, I get off the Metro in Vienna in the pouring rain and into my Dad's car. He takes me to his house, where my (working) car is. I go home, totally dejected.
Monday morning -- The mechanic calls to tell me the car started up fine. Awesome. I know what the problem is and I know how to fix it myself. My dad graciously offers to drive me to Jersey to get the car. I replace the DME Relay and get back on my way.
Monday evening -- Meet up with Mat and Mikey at Costal Flats to show them the car and have a couple beers. Then back home and into the garage. Victory, seemingly, is mine.
Tuesday evening -- I attempt to go get the car an emissions inspection. The station is closed, so I go home. As I round the final corner into my part of the neighborhood, I let the clutch out in second gear. The car makes an awful noise and refuses to engage the gear. I coast to the lowest point on my street (oh yeah, the parking brake doesn't work) and am instantly very depressed. I ultimately go back into the house and drink a few beers. Oh yeah, it was my birthday, too.
So anyway, I've driven this car about 500 miles since I've owned it. The only things that move it now are gravity, and my drunk friends who helped get it back into the garage, where it's been for over a month, waiting on a new clutch. I'm using the time to replace most of the brake components and the front bearings and anything else I find as I work my way through. I'm hoping to have it back on the road by the end of the summer. I knew I'd find problems with it...I just sort of hoped they'd hold off until I'd had a chance to drive a little. Oh well.
Ultimately, I'm glad I bought the car (and I'm glad we got the dog, but he's a whole 'nother post). I am enjoying working on it, even though it is a huge pain in the ass sometimes. Every shot of Brake Kleen in my eye is just another stinging reminder of how great the car will be once I get it to where I want. By the time it gets back on the road, it will be like getting a new car again, since I really don't remember what it's like to drive the thing. I think it was fun, though, after I relaxed a little.
Now, for those who care, a brief pictoral history of my Porshe ownership to date:
A picture from the cars.com ad which led me down this treacherous path:
The first picture I thought to take of the car myself:
And, finally, a more recent picture, showing the current state of the car:
