Did I ever mention how owning an old German car is a consistent love-hate relationship? Those times when you're kissing the apex around the turns in the mountains, hearing the reassuring burble of the V8 driving the rear wheels while you push the car through 4,000 RPM and 70 mph in 3rd gear. The radar detector blares, Ka band - California Highway Patrol is nearby. The adrenaline surges, as you smash the clutch to the floorboard and dump it into 5th gear and haul yourself down to the 55 mph speed limit, just as you crest the hill and see a Highway Patrol Crown Victoria along the side of the road, training his radar gun on you, as you sail on by at 3 mph over the limit, knowing he won't pull you over for that. It's one of those perfect moments, in perfect harmony - man and machine operating as one.
Yeah, it's pretty much exactly the opposite of that right now. I dropped the car with my mechanic this morning - and we put it up on the lift to see if we could ascertain the source of the coolant leak. Verdict? Water pump leaking? Check. Radiator cracked and leaking? Check. Expansion tank/coolant overflow cracked and leaking? Check. Thermostat housing leaking? Check. Lower coolant hose leaking? Check.
How many checks is that? Five. Five checks. I don't know how or why it had any coolant left in it. I got lucky with this one...
Pictured below in shortly after that 'perfect moment' above. If you don't own a German car, I wouldn't expect you to understand this insanity. :-)
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