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140 Posts
Yesterday was one of the best days of my life.
I started the day off at 3:56am. I intended to drive up to Fremont, CA from Los Angeles, CA (about a 300mi drive) to make a 10am appointment to saran wrap Lola. Tired, I had no idea what miseries were in store for me. About 50 miles outside of Los Angeles, I noticed Lola suddenly struggle. I smelled something burning and immediately pulled over. Just missing an exit ramp to get off the interstate, I drove the wrong way down an entrance ramp in order to get off the highway. When I pulled over, she seemed fine. Good boost. Good oil pressure. Everything seemed right. Perhaps I was just tired. So I carried on.
I stopped a few times for breaks and to pick up a 24oz cup of coffee. Ah, the breakfast of champions! Most of the highway was flat with some minor mountain passes. No worries. Lola happily cruised between 80 and 100. She has strong legs to match her shapely body. I then pulled off to a smaller connecting highway where my troubles began. A mere 60miles from my destination, I saw large plumes of smoke coming from behind me. The smoke seemed to get worse when the turbo was activated so I downshifted to keep my revs and power up while climbing mountains. That worked for a few miles. Worried this was a blown headgasket, I pulled over to a store and immediately called Harry Applyby at Viking MotorSports. Though worried, he instructed me to add oil and make it to my destination to diagnose the problem there. . .a 40mile goal I'd never reach.
She stubled along a bit more. Again, thinking it was a headgasket, I pulled over into the sprawling metropolis of Gilroy, CA (proclaimed the garlic capitol of the universe by Doug). I stopped at a filling station to ask for directions to a mechanic. I proceeded the 2miles to find the mechanic. I never made it.
As I pulled off the highway, Lola stopped on the exit ramp. I turned her ignition. Nothing. Cars were behind me. A semi (that's a lorry in American-speak) was behind me. I quickly got out and waved everyone passed me, forgetting 1) I could get run over, 2) turn on those hazard lights! Thank goodness Lola's svelte. I started to push her to the side of the exit ramp. In my excitement, I forgot it might have been easier to push her and steer with the window down. Yes, I was tired. A gentleman in another semi got out and pushed her while I handled the wheel.
I then walked the half mile and found the mechanic. At first, we tried to arrange for a wrecker to pull her into the garage, but I refused to allow Lola onto anything but a flatbed truck. Waiting for about 30minutes, I went back to Lola to see if she'd start. After some hesitation, she did, and I drove her to the mechanic.
Mind you, I'm still thinking the problem is a blown headgasket. My mind was thinking of plans on how to get a new motor in her or to have this one rebuilt. How long was this going to take? Will she need to be rebored? Just how much time can I take off from work? The only thing that stopped me from panicking was knowing that this was a problem that could be solved by throwing money at it. We could fix the problem, and she'd be fine one way or another.
Once I got her to the mechanic, I started to call and text everyone in the area. LGM and Ekapol. Doug is quite a bit further up north. I called Harry to ask him for diagnosis. We kicked around a few ideas. Harry seemed to think it might have been a knackered oil filter since I mistakenly thought the oil pressure was too high. I still believed the worst and thought headgasket. After quite some time, finally, a bit of good news; the mechanics Tim and Duong showed me where the turbo was leaking oil. They speculated oil was travelling from the turbo into the head. Previously, I had noticed oil dripping from the left side of the car. If it had been an issue of the oil filter, wouldn't it have been on the right side?
I was texting Doug, LGM, and Nitroman for their thoughts and advice on the turbo. LGM called me to suggest I look at the PVC valve and that other filter above the CAS. Ok. The mechanics and I went to it. We cleaned them out. We changed the oil. With the trash-can air filter out, we cranked her up on a dyno. Oil spewed out whenever the BOV released. Not the kind of woosh I hoped to see. Now we knew everything. Oil had gone through the turbo, up the intake, into the head. Lola wouldn't stalled out earlier because too much oil had covered her spark plugs so she couldn't spark. The cause of the problem must be a leaky turbo seal. All we had to do was find a kit to rebuild the turbo. Easy, right?
Nothing Lotus ever is.
As I called and texted Doug, Harry, LGM, and Nitroman, the mechanic called around to find a used IHI turbo. You might have guessed no turbo could be found, though the mechanic found someone who could rebuild it - the parts would take 3 days to arrive. . .maybe. Assuming the kit fit. I'm not sure if to reassure me or Lola, but I patted her door while she was on the lift and promised her she was going to be just fine. We'd take care of her now.
Then I had this bright idea. Perhaps LGM still had an unshipped Greddy turbo kit. Perhaps I could persuade one of you gents to allow me to take delivery of that turbo, and I would make up the difference for any added expense to get another kit put together to make you whole. As I kicked this around, Doug suggested that Ekapol or LGM might still have an IHI turbo lying around. Goodness, I couldn't ask that of anyone. And then Ekapol called. . .to let me know I was welcome to his IHI turbo. A little while later, LGM suggested she could install it.
And people wonder why we had to replace Rita when she passed away. And why we got Betty ('05 SY Elise). Until tomorrow, I will never have met LGM nor Ekapol. And yet, people I have never met are so willing to part with their treasure and time to help me. Over time, I have discovered the extraordinary generousity is commonplace in the Lotus family. We seem to be a giving lot when faced with another's adversity. We are all bound together in this Fellowship of Joy and Misery, some of our own doing, some of our cars. Yet we travel this path together, helping each other along the way, knowing it could have been us who needed the hand.
Consider that our first reaction to trouble is likely to be a fellow Lotus owner in general and another Elaner specifically. Consider how extraordinary it is for us not to consider a dealer as our primary source for assistance. Consider the fellowship Ferrari owners will never know, even if they could understand.
We are a happy lot. We let random kids sit in our cars. We enjoy our cars not as museum pieces but as cars. These mechanical beasts have no souls when they sit, yet they develop souls as we and others enjoy them.We give them souls. I like to think of our Loti as our velveteen rabbits. The more people enjoy them, the more they becaome alive. How selfish it would be of us to hoard the joy we know to ourselves when others may smile with us.
I tried to explain the Lotus experience to my sister once. My wife told her she gets thumbs up from random strangers. Kids in our neighborhood cheer as she drives past them. You may awe at an Italian, but you smile with a Lotus. My sister admits she still doesn't get it. It's ok. My nephew seems to be a quick study.
So, at LGM's suggestion, I told the mechanics to undo the wastegate but leave the oil line on. With the oil running, the turbo would survive. With the wastegate undone, Lola would spew less oil into the head and thus not smoke as much. A bandaged Lola limped the remaining 40 miles to Fremont where she sits in the parking lot of a Hyatt Place, waiting for a turbo transplant. Doug just text me he'd grab a spanner tomorrow afternoon. I hope he likes scotch.
I walked from a Korean restaurant about a mile away from the hotel. It was one of the best meals of my life. Yes, the food was excellent. Over dinner, I had time to reflect upon today. Little sleep. Little food. A lot of fear. More anxiety. Some caffeine. Nothing today worked out as expected, and yet, it could not have come out any better.
I started the day off at 3:56am. I intended to drive up to Fremont, CA from Los Angeles, CA (about a 300mi drive) to make a 10am appointment to saran wrap Lola. Tired, I had no idea what miseries were in store for me. About 50 miles outside of Los Angeles, I noticed Lola suddenly struggle. I smelled something burning and immediately pulled over. Just missing an exit ramp to get off the interstate, I drove the wrong way down an entrance ramp in order to get off the highway. When I pulled over, she seemed fine. Good boost. Good oil pressure. Everything seemed right. Perhaps I was just tired. So I carried on.
I stopped a few times for breaks and to pick up a 24oz cup of coffee. Ah, the breakfast of champions! Most of the highway was flat with some minor mountain passes. No worries. Lola happily cruised between 80 and 100. She has strong legs to match her shapely body. I then pulled off to a smaller connecting highway where my troubles began. A mere 60miles from my destination, I saw large plumes of smoke coming from behind me. The smoke seemed to get worse when the turbo was activated so I downshifted to keep my revs and power up while climbing mountains. That worked for a few miles. Worried this was a blown headgasket, I pulled over to a store and immediately called Harry Applyby at Viking MotorSports. Though worried, he instructed me to add oil and make it to my destination to diagnose the problem there. . .a 40mile goal I'd never reach.
She stubled along a bit more. Again, thinking it was a headgasket, I pulled over into the sprawling metropolis of Gilroy, CA (proclaimed the garlic capitol of the universe by Doug). I stopped at a filling station to ask for directions to a mechanic. I proceeded the 2miles to find the mechanic. I never made it.
As I pulled off the highway, Lola stopped on the exit ramp. I turned her ignition. Nothing. Cars were behind me. A semi (that's a lorry in American-speak) was behind me. I quickly got out and waved everyone passed me, forgetting 1) I could get run over, 2) turn on those hazard lights! Thank goodness Lola's svelte. I started to push her to the side of the exit ramp. In my excitement, I forgot it might have been easier to push her and steer with the window down. Yes, I was tired. A gentleman in another semi got out and pushed her while I handled the wheel.
I then walked the half mile and found the mechanic. At first, we tried to arrange for a wrecker to pull her into the garage, but I refused to allow Lola onto anything but a flatbed truck. Waiting for about 30minutes, I went back to Lola to see if she'd start. After some hesitation, she did, and I drove her to the mechanic.
Mind you, I'm still thinking the problem is a blown headgasket. My mind was thinking of plans on how to get a new motor in her or to have this one rebuilt. How long was this going to take? Will she need to be rebored? Just how much time can I take off from work? The only thing that stopped me from panicking was knowing that this was a problem that could be solved by throwing money at it. We could fix the problem, and she'd be fine one way or another.
Once I got her to the mechanic, I started to call and text everyone in the area. LGM and Ekapol. Doug is quite a bit further up north. I called Harry to ask him for diagnosis. We kicked around a few ideas. Harry seemed to think it might have been a knackered oil filter since I mistakenly thought the oil pressure was too high. I still believed the worst and thought headgasket. After quite some time, finally, a bit of good news; the mechanics Tim and Duong showed me where the turbo was leaking oil. They speculated oil was travelling from the turbo into the head. Previously, I had noticed oil dripping from the left side of the car. If it had been an issue of the oil filter, wouldn't it have been on the right side?
I was texting Doug, LGM, and Nitroman for their thoughts and advice on the turbo. LGM called me to suggest I look at the PVC valve and that other filter above the CAS. Ok. The mechanics and I went to it. We cleaned them out. We changed the oil. With the trash-can air filter out, we cranked her up on a dyno. Oil spewed out whenever the BOV released. Not the kind of woosh I hoped to see. Now we knew everything. Oil had gone through the turbo, up the intake, into the head. Lola wouldn't stalled out earlier because too much oil had covered her spark plugs so she couldn't spark. The cause of the problem must be a leaky turbo seal. All we had to do was find a kit to rebuild the turbo. Easy, right?
Nothing Lotus ever is.
As I called and texted Doug, Harry, LGM, and Nitroman, the mechanic called around to find a used IHI turbo. You might have guessed no turbo could be found, though the mechanic found someone who could rebuild it - the parts would take 3 days to arrive. . .maybe. Assuming the kit fit. I'm not sure if to reassure me or Lola, but I patted her door while she was on the lift and promised her she was going to be just fine. We'd take care of her now.
Then I had this bright idea. Perhaps LGM still had an unshipped Greddy turbo kit. Perhaps I could persuade one of you gents to allow me to take delivery of that turbo, and I would make up the difference for any added expense to get another kit put together to make you whole. As I kicked this around, Doug suggested that Ekapol or LGM might still have an IHI turbo lying around. Goodness, I couldn't ask that of anyone. And then Ekapol called. . .to let me know I was welcome to his IHI turbo. A little while later, LGM suggested she could install it.
And people wonder why we had to replace Rita when she passed away. And why we got Betty ('05 SY Elise). Until tomorrow, I will never have met LGM nor Ekapol. And yet, people I have never met are so willing to part with their treasure and time to help me. Over time, I have discovered the extraordinary generousity is commonplace in the Lotus family. We seem to be a giving lot when faced with another's adversity. We are all bound together in this Fellowship of Joy and Misery, some of our own doing, some of our cars. Yet we travel this path together, helping each other along the way, knowing it could have been us who needed the hand.
Consider that our first reaction to trouble is likely to be a fellow Lotus owner in general and another Elaner specifically. Consider how extraordinary it is for us not to consider a dealer as our primary source for assistance. Consider the fellowship Ferrari owners will never know, even if they could understand.
We are a happy lot. We let random kids sit in our cars. We enjoy our cars not as museum pieces but as cars. These mechanical beasts have no souls when they sit, yet they develop souls as we and others enjoy them.We give them souls. I like to think of our Loti as our velveteen rabbits. The more people enjoy them, the more they becaome alive. How selfish it would be of us to hoard the joy we know to ourselves when others may smile with us.
I tried to explain the Lotus experience to my sister once. My wife told her she gets thumbs up from random strangers. Kids in our neighborhood cheer as she drives past them. You may awe at an Italian, but you smile with a Lotus. My sister admits she still doesn't get it. It's ok. My nephew seems to be a quick study.
So, at LGM's suggestion, I told the mechanics to undo the wastegate but leave the oil line on. With the oil running, the turbo would survive. With the wastegate undone, Lola would spew less oil into the head and thus not smoke as much. A bandaged Lola limped the remaining 40 miles to Fremont where she sits in the parking lot of a Hyatt Place, waiting for a turbo transplant. Doug just text me he'd grab a spanner tomorrow afternoon. I hope he likes scotch.
I walked from a Korean restaurant about a mile away from the hotel. It was one of the best meals of my life. Yes, the food was excellent. Over dinner, I had time to reflect upon today. Little sleep. Little food. A lot of fear. More anxiety. Some caffeine. Nothing today worked out as expected, and yet, it could not have come out any better.
