With the road trip to The Vintage now just a month away, I really really wanted to finish the a/c rejuvenation of the FrankenThirty by charging the damned thing already on this 80-degree day, but one final round of pressure-testing with nitrogen revealed dropping pressure from a leak at the big #12 suction fitting on the compressor. I had trouble with leakage from this fitting two months ago—if I tightened it down to what felt right, it cut the o-ring, generating a large leak. I thought I’d found a Goldilocks zone where I could snug it tight but not squeeze the ring to the point where I cut it. I appear to have been wrong. I’m not sure what the source of the leak can be other than something wrong with the fitting on the end of the hose, or the one on the compressor, which would be much more problematic. Fortunately, a new rubber-and-bent-aluminum hose (Four Seasons 55914) was only about $64 shipped from Rockauto. When it arrives, I’ll try again.
It’s still doing this, but with smaller bubbles.
While waiting for the hose, I began to button up the console, hoping that I won’t need to go back in and deal with the evaporator core or the expansion valve. I got the console itself back in, but stopped when I couldn’t get the part that goes over the handbrake lever installed without making the handbrake switch self-destruct. It turns out that it already had self-destructed, with the little part of the plastic plunger no longer holding the metal clip in place on the top. I ordered another switch.
Sorry for the out of focus pic, but you can see that the top of the plastic plunger is missing, so whenever I slid the rubber accordion piece over it, the electrical contact just slides off.
This one available on eBay clearly shows the tip of the plastic plunger protruding through the metal contact.
One pleasant surprise with the E30 was that the problem with the leaky radiator never recurred. I would’ve laid money that the leak was coming from where the tank on the right side was crimped on. I was ready to pay a hundred bucks for one of the Chinese-made aluminum radiators available on eBay, but coincident with the imposition of tariffs, the price shot up to $130, and deciding what to do morphed into a why-don’t-I-watch-the-car-and-see-what-happens approach. I’ve seen no other coolant. I can only assume that some spilled coolant must’ve seeped into the seem and slowly dried out. This won’t be the first time I quote Jackson Browne singing “What I was seeing wasn’t what was happening at all,” and it probably won’t be the last.
This mercifully never happened again.
The other repair on the table was on the 2003 E39 530i stick sport that had developed had a worsening problem with the brake and ABS lights coming on and the speedometer and cruise control turning off. This is very likely due to a failing ABS control module. I had this occur eight years ago in my ’99 Z3. When that happened, I read up on it, cut the thing open with a Dremel tool, looked at the solder joints very carefully with a magnifier, saw the ones that were cracked, reflowed the solder with a soldering iron, and fixed the problem for zero cost. I thought I could do that here, but when I Dremel’d the thing open, I was aghast to discover that the components looked a generation newer and smaller than on the Z3’s module, and were all covered in a transparent goo. I’m hoping I can still get a rebuilder to fix it for me, but if not, I guess I’ll buy a used or rebuilt one and look into getting it coded for my car (I’m still a coding virgin).
Yeah. I know. The cut-open ABS module looks like a toilet.
How electronics say “don’t touch.”
This was the one on the Z3 I did ten years ago. Everything was bigger and not covered by The Transparent Goo From Hell.
And with spring finally here, there was the obligatory trip out to the warehouse in Monson on the MA/CT border where I store five cars. The ’79 Euro 635CSi and Bertha the ratty 2002 were taken in for their annual state inspections, and they and the ’99 M Coupe each got a thoroughly enjoyable half-hour drive.
A rare photo of the shark emerging from winter hibernation.
When I drove Bertha last fall, something felt very wrong, like it was running on two cylinders, or one of the Weber 40DCOEs wasn’t getting any fuel. This time, other than a slight hesitation at even throttle, the ratty old girl felt fine.
Bertha rocking the repainted steelies I wrote about last week.
The M Coupe—such a completely different car from any of the vintage rides—is always a joy to drive.
The clown shoe.
Of course the cars at the house got their turn as well. Hampton the 52,000-mile survivor ’73 2002 got inspected and driven, and Zelda the ’99 Z3, which spent the winter ignominiously and uncomplainingly under a cover at the end of the driveway, fired right up and took me on a most enjoyable top-down drive. As much as I love my vintage cars, I never cease to be amazed at how well electronically fuel-injected cars perform after sitting. Reconnect the battery, crack the key, no drama over fuel priming and starting, just boom, drive.
Hampton is the best nicest quietest most stock 2002 I’ve ever had, but…
I may have the best least-complicated relationship with Zelda of any car I’ve ever owned. Top down, instant satisfaction.
So that’s all from Chez Hack today. Hopefully next week I have a cold E30 to report on.
—Rob Siegel
____________________________________
Rob’s newest book, The Best of The Hack Mechanic, is available here on Amazon, as are his seven other books. Signed copies can be ordered directly from Rob here.
Tags: chores spring refresh