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A late-in-life epiphany - I know others have "Been There"

Originally Posted by RarlyL8 View Post
...Gorgeous day today so I thought I'd go for a drive. Haven't had the 930 out sense the fuel relay debacle (see thread on the usefulness of fuel pressure and AFR gages).

... Got to a stretch of highway and smacked the loud peddle. She cam on full song and planted me in the seat then POP-POP!! power was abruptly cut which slammed my teeth in the windshield. What the hell was THAT!

... I turned around and headed home.

...clutched to stop in front of the garage and the engine died!

...I jumped in this evening and hit the key just to see what would happen and the starter just spins.

The sad look of a dead 930, at least she died at home!
I have followed your progress with alerts with every single post of yours. I have learned alot about problem solving from your posts -- and from others on this forum who have also chimed in with problem-solving recommendations.
It has to be a labor of love, because the continued unpredicted setbacks, although always surmountable, have to be disheartening. And you do not even stress the car with racing!

Cruel reality has smacked me straight in the face.

Here you are, extremely highly equipped, with not only knowledge about Porsches and with experience working on them, but also with proper tools, lifts, engine stands, welders, machine shop, and the skills to operate them at a high level -- and with the luxury of having a business that is aligned with fixer-ing up your car.
And yet, every casual drive you take must be wrought with a high level of anxiety, wondering what next will break down.

I'd say over 95% of the Pelican forum followers do NOT have even 3 out of these 5 luxuries (Porsche knowledge, experience, tools/machine shop, tool-skills, and aligned business), and yet we still think we can master these cars to make them even into Sunday drivers!

I'm slow to experience global-level epiphanies like this, but day-ummmm, reality has hit me and this is disheartening.

About 40 years ago (1977), I shipped a 1976 Harley (someone’s insurance write-off) to Europe to tool around on my own (this was well before there were organized and chaperoned motorcycle tours with a mechanic's van in trail).
I carried about 30lbs of tools, parts, epoxy, even battery-powered solderer, some spare parts, etc., because I knew my Harley. I carried more tools than food or clothing. The only necessary tool I did not carry was CASH -- I was a med student at the time, living at the poverty/Food Stamp level.

For several very hungry weeks, I drove and camped my way from Belgium, Holland, Germany, up through Denmark, across Sweden, ferried to Finland and up near the Arctic Circle, then back across to Sweden, Denmark, Germany and into Switzerland. The entire trip was not only wrought with continued and expected, but unpredictable, breakdowns, but also wrought with the associated accompanying CONSTANT anxiety, waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

The only thing that the Harley never let me down on, was never failing to prove me right for my paranoia -- repeatedly arising to the occasion to show me that there was no end to the most outrageous thing that could go wrong with it.

And in the subsequent student-level years, when I had 4 broken down Alfa Romeos in the back yard of my apartment, I carried AT LEAST 50lbs of tools in the trunk of the car, with spare parts including entire ignitions (points back then), and diagnostic tools -- all for which I actually experienced a need.

Again, I was still a student - no money and no "other car" -- so I knew I could not afford a mechanic to fix my car, much less afford a tow back home. NONE of my other student-friends had the slightest mechanical experience to help, and most did not have cars to come save me. Everything had to be fixed roadside or out in the open in the driveway or the backyard. Again, those Alfas NEVER let me down in providing me with opportunities to be late for class, opportunities to baffle me, opportunities to amaze me with new problems, and opportunities to explore new ways to mangle the English language.

I am absolutely positive that if they read all the way down to this point in this post, there are many others on this forum who will identify with these stories and have similar experiences.

I can only think that you probably have that same anxiety in the seat of your pants every time you drive your car, keenly alert for every slight sound that seems out of place -- every rattle, backfire, quirk in the handling, and even cars honking at you (they might be trying to alert you that they see something going terribly wrong with your car). How many of you can relate to these things!!??

So, I'm thinking, again Day-ummm, if YOU have these continual problems, how in the world can I EVER expect to make my old Porsche into something other than a garage-bound outlet for artistic expression and creativity -- and a reliable source for exploring new ways to abuse the English, French, and Russian language.

It might be time for me to finally conform and buy that showroom-new and warrantied Corvette or Lexus or Miata, or whatever the Hollywood go-fast clean-fingernail-crowd buys.

Ahh, the serenity of jumping in the minivan, knowing that it will start, never melt down, and, YES, drive RIGHT THROUGH THAT POTHOLE! Who cares! The minivan is indestructible.
It thrives on abuse, because, like a sled dog, it knows its sole purpose in life is to go to the auto parts stores to get parts for the Porsche in the garage.

I think I better show the minivan some love and change its oil.

(BELOW PIC - A typical day, fixing something on the Harley - Laapajarvi, Finland - 1976.)
Old 02-27-2017, 07:56 AM
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