Scary moment

As some of you know, I have a new love in my life. My as yet unnamed Volvo 940.

I wish I wasn't so forgetful. A minor blunder made me think I'd killed my beloved motor.

I decided she needed new spark plugs and HT leads and a good clean up of all the electrical contacts under the bonnet, so I set about taking things apart. I couldn't get to one of the spark plugs because of a massive air pipe in the way, so I disconnected and removed said air pipe, told myself several time "must remember to put that back on at the end", and continued along.

New spark plugs in, new HT leads on, several connectors cleaned, one nut dropped down into the guts of the engine bay and lost forever, one new nut scavenged from somewhere else, all reassembled. Job done. I get in, turn the key, she hesitates, reluctantly fires a couple of pops, dashboard lights up with a range of warning lights, and engine dies. Ok I think. Its just the ECU adjusting for the different burn characteristics from the rejuvenated ignition. Like all good software developers, I adapted the standard first response to a fault. I turn it off and on again. Same. So I get out, worried, scratch my head with my greasy, oily, mucky fingers. I check all the ignition bits, yep definitely reassembled correctly and all good secure connections. Doom, gloom, car is kaput.

Remember at the beginning of this post I said I reminded myself several time, must remember to reconnect that air pipe when I'm done? The poor ECU had no clue how much air was going in, seeing as I'd took the pipe off. So I put the pipe back on, tried again, and immediately she burst into life. Quieter and smoother than before.

 

Do hope she is ok? I still miss my 740 GLT. They didn't make that many with the T which made a world of difference. It should have had go faster stripes as it was VERY quick with a great gurgling exhaust, a turning lock to die for and if it was physically possible to get it into a parking space she'd go. Made me look a terribly good driver! Many a time I'd beat young lads in their souped up sports cars, their faces at a minature tank which had the reputation of only being driven by elderly folk who never did the likes of racing starts brought a few broad grins from me. Unfortunately her catalitic converter (had 1 long before they became law, typically Swedish!) needed replacing and it was going to cost a fortune so had to say good bye. All our cars have been called Betsey something or other, she was Betsey Burble because of her exhaust. My current car is Batsey the B.... as she is causing plenty of problems!

 

You road hog you

When I had my last 940, not as powerful as my current one (last one had no turbo), I must admit I was naughty once or twice. There is a car park where all the boy racers take their little toys to show off. I was driving past one time when I saw two saxos or corsas or something having some sort of wheel spin contest. I'd seen this many times and its annoying. All you can hear for miles around is their tyres screeching. So one time I just decided to take them down a peg or two. I drove the old tank in nice and calmly, like the old man they expected me to be, in my old person's farmer's car. Stopped right in the middle of 'their' car park until I noticed people looking, waiting for me to get out of the way, then first gear, clutch down, throttle down, full lock left, let go of the clutch and do a massive doughnut (something that they could never do seeing as it can only be done in a rear wheel drive car). Then I just calmly drove away again. They'd just been rinsed by a 17 year old brick shaped estate car.