Road Trip

Cosworth to Canada

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Hopefully it’s not too apparent that every trip featured  so far on BlythBros. has been conceived and attempted by engineers. And, hopefully, the traits commonly associated with engineers – being logical, rational, analytical, and concrete – haven’t surfaced too often in the pages of the blog. Really, it doesn’t take an engineering degree to be able to drain the pleasure from activities, road trips included. Our goal for this trip was simply to drive to Canada.

Realizing that my big trip for the year would have to wait until later in the summer, I mentioned the idea of doing a quick loop of Quebec to Taylor. I was enjoying a stint of voluntary funemployment, so the most important element of my daily routine was walking the Dachshunds with my mom. After days of discussion and planning, we decided that my mom would walk the Dachsunds by herself – 2 to the human, that is. I was good to go. As for Taylor? He codes tools for numerical analysis of various nuclear processes, or something like that. Sounds independent enough, as far as work goes, so I’m assuming that he set up a Bueller-style snoring figure in his grad school office to take Friday off. I didn’t ask. Either way, we were staring down the barrel of a hair-triggered 3-day weekend, and we were hungry for the Great White North.

Before I get any further, I owe the reader a quick background on the etymology of Canada. Back before the time of Mounties, Poutine, and even hockey, two great Canadian pioneers sought to name the vast tract of land that would later insulation to the United States as America’s hat. From a real hat, likely furry and extravagant, the pioneers blindly chose 3 letters. “C, eh? N, eh? D, eh?” Later Americanized, the land became known as “Canada”.

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Buying sight-unseen from New Mexico: 1991 BMW 318is

 

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Old cars: buy the best example that you can afford, right? Unless you’re actively seeking a project, that’s the convention. So, imagine a listing for the car you want, at the price you like, where the only needs listed are “a wash and wax”. I found that car last summer.

I’d been driving a 91 318is as a sort of winter and minor project car up until that point. I bought that thing for $1,500 and slowly worked through it to get it into shape. I swapped in a set of matching M3 seats, replaced the cracked dash, fixed the odometer, installed a headliner, and resealed all of the oil leaks – except for one. The rear main seal leaked oil onto the clutch periodically, and that caused some bothersome slipping. It may have been a worn clutch (I had a spare clutch and flywheel), but either way, I was going to have to pull the transmission, which takes a weekend of concerted effort. Factor in some heinous oil consumption through other avenues – valve stem seals, worn rings – and the car was starting to feel like a money sink. An Indiana and Chicago car for all of its life, rust and urban parking had taken their toll on the bodywork beyond the point where I was willing to hit the car with any sort of money hammer. I figured that it would be cheaper to just sell that car and find one with fewer and less severe needs.

A serious constraint on the purchasing timeline was my goal to take a 6,000 mile trip to Seattle and back with my girlfriend about a month later. I wanted a well-sorted 318is with A/C to take us across the country and back.  Even on my rougher 318is, I was seeing 32mpg highway on premium fuel – decent for a 1991 car with that much character.

Badge Engineering: Saab 9-7X travels the Natchez Trace

 

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Winter 2013-2014 has been the 100 proof sort of winter that can impair one’s judgement; the sort of winter that requires so many layers of pants to perform a timing belt replacement on your 24V Alfa Romeo V6 outdoors, that you start to question your homo erectus ancestors’ choices in mates – you couldn’t find someone with hairier legs?

In fact, this winter has been so bitter that I agreed to fly to Texas to help my friend Andrew drive his recently purchased Saab 9-7x back to Indiana. Yes, I agreed to a 1,000 mile drudge in an SUV designed to stuff GM’s koffers while providing Midwesterners the ability to travel excessive distances by themselves to pick up some Chik-Fil-A, load up their cargo hatches with Duck Dynasty apparel at Wal-Mart, and make it home in time to inhale hours of cable television. Or with the addition of the Saab badge, a Swedish shuttle designed to traverse snowy roads to fish markets, load up on furniture at IKEA, and make it home in time to watch 12 hours of a log burning on television.

Hyperbole aside, I had a few substantial reasons to look forward to the trip. First, the obvious weather relief, and the chance to visit Andrew’s family in Houston. Second, we planned on driving up the Natchez Trace Parkway, a scenic path connecting Natchez, MS to Nashville, TN. And finally, because I have a soft spot for the GMT360 platform. Our friend Malhon has a Trailblazer, with which I’ve gradually bonded each time I’ve summoned it to tow one of my disabled cars – the GTI when the alternator failed on I-70, the Milano when it threw a rod 300 miles from home, and the 164LS when it spun a rod bearing. Of course, it’s an irrational bond, as really most vehicles made of metal could tow my cars. Even a Saturn could.  Suffice to say, I’ve found the platform (and Malhon) to be dependable when my cars are not.

Winter on I-90

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This post and photos come from fellow Alfisti, Fred Russell.

The drive from the biggest city in Montana, Billings, to the small town of Sheridan Wyoming is about 120 miles. In the summer, traffic along I-90 usually flows at a little over 80 MPH. On the one sunny day between two good snow storms, was my choice to drive the route. The traffic was light and I assumed they’d be a little slower than the summer speeds. Most were… except for one knucklehead from the Seattle area doing 80 MPH. This highway heads through the Big Horn Valley crossing over the Little Bighorn River numerous times as it goes. I doubt very many members of the 7th Cavelry sent many postcards home when they passed through here in the summer of 1876.

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Those of us living in a coastal city may forget how critical the railroads are to industry. With the huge ships quietly coming and going at the port, usually far removed from our daily lives. That isn’t an option inland. The railroads are the heavy workers in places like the coal fields of Wyoming. (I watched 4 long coal trains go past in 4 hours this day.) With the Bighorn Moutains creating both a backdrop and a wind break, a train carries new American cars to points westward. Inside may be any number of cars built on these shores from BMW, Dodge, Jeep, Ford, Honda, Mercedes Benz, and more. I imagined the railcars were actually filled with Chevy trucks and that somehow they could sense they were passing an elderly cousin resting in the snow on that sunny day in Wyoming. That 1958 Cameo sat proudly with all of its trim, glass, and pieces showing just about the right amount of age, but not any abuse.

Alfa Romeo Milano Verde Part 1: Introduction

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I can blame my middle school bus route past the import auto shop for the recent deluge of Alfa in my life.  Our dad‘s 73 BMW 3.0 CS sometimes sat outside of the shop there, so in between sightings of the classic E9 coupe began a steady exposure to Alfa Romeo.  It’s necessary to note that the school bus never broke down, which at that point would have been the only opportunity, short of breaking down in an Alfa, for me to associate Alfas with a disregard for forward progress.

One Saturday in 2004, we stopped at the import shop  to check out a meet-up underway.  Some classic British, BMW M, and other Euro noteworthies occupied the lot out front.  Taylor and I made our way to the Alfas near the fence and made the following observations:

1. The Spider shift lever position is exceptional
2. The 164 dash is a vast expanse of buttons
3. The Milano Verde has the coolest seats on earth

6,000 miles in the 84 GTI (in ten days)

 

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Earlier in 2013, I decided that I wanted to go for a substantial roadtrip.  I settled on taking a 318is, but figured I’d sell mine and buy one in better mechanical condition.  After a 1,500 mile trip to make that acquisition, I wound up with a car that needed the drive shaft to be balanced, had less AC than the seller implied, and needed 4 new tires.  Normally these would be simple enough fixes, but I wasn’t able to get the car ready in time for the trip.  So, I decided to take my 1984 Rabbit GTI and every tool I own.

I had just driven my GTI, ‘the Git’, to the Tail of the Dragon on Dunlop Z1 Star Specs (and demolished them), and during the first 50 miles of my road trip, I realized that their ability to, um, not kill me while driving through a rainstorm was limited. So, I rerouted to Peoria, IL, where my friend Andrew would let us stay in his apartment so that I could get some tires mounted in the morning.

After getting the tires mounted in Peoria (and resisting the temptation to spend hours in Harbor Freight), we started for Seattle, and didn’t rest until we made it there.

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Once underway, there were only two instances of undesired shutdowns.  The first was the result of water dripping down the windshield onto the cowl, and through the old seal onto the fuse box.  All of the relays take on water when this happens, but the first to go was the fuel pump relay.  After an hour of troubleshooting, we figured this out, and were able to make a jumper to get power to the fuel pump.  Later on, I bought a switch to make the start-up process quicker and more fun.

The second issue was my unskilled interpretation of the fuel gauge.  Luckily, we were 2 miles from the gas station in Brandon, IA when the car sputtered to a halt, and even more fortuitously, I had packed a skateboard, which made the descent from the Interstate into the town a breeze.  I’m surprised that my girlfriend didn’t have me drop her off at the nearest airport at this point.

After that calibration exercise, we made it to Minnesota, where the sun began to set. That state is so green that I can see Al and Tipper Gore settling down there, if they ever get back together. And I really hope they do, because the love story at the beginning of An Inconvenient Truth is the segment that everyone can agree upon.
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Getting back to the drive, South Dakota took up the whole night of driving, during which I took a sleeping shift, so I have no idea what happened there. Here’s my best guess: We drove straight for hundreds of miles.  I woke up in the Black Hills area and took over driving again. With my girlfriend asleep, the GTI managed to hit 104 on a downhill section.

A quick note on food: I had chicken-fried steak in Illinois for my meal of the day. As in, I ate that in the morning and let the fat burn for the rest of the day. I ended up doing the same thing in Wyoming.  I’m not a fan of food-strategy or dieting in general, but I liked the lump-in-the-stomach energy delivery that it provided.

The mountainous ascents in Montana and Idaho were the next major obstacle, though the GTI made quick work of them.  Having recently driven my 318is at altitude, I would say that the GTI felt less anemic.  Passing power remained adequate and it wasn’t a strain to maintain our typical hot hatch driving style.

After crossing the flat plain of eastern Washington, the dark descent into Seattle was particularly perilous.  I-90 seemed to spiral endlessly to sea level, challenging my fatigued brain along its tortuous path.  Heavy traffic arranged in 3-4 lanes made for an adrenaline-soaked final stint.DSC_1811DSC_1829DSC_2187DSC_2305

Making our way out of Seattle, we spent an entire day courting Mt. Rainier.  Following a quick oil change in the Autozone parking lot, I gave the GTI a proper workout through the breathtaking surroundings, driving at 9/10s for  200+ miles.  That drive alone justified the trip.  When traveling so far from home, the front wheel drive comes to be an advantage, as it makes the driver really work to get the ass-end of the car out.  And really, once the car starts to get sideways, the odds of returning home in one piece suffer drastically.  The GTI simply excels at safely guiding its occupants through punishing drives.

The route we took along the Oregon Coast was scenic, with a more relaxing drive in store. And, the GTI’s tall greenhouse and sunroof made for some excellent touring.  The cloth seats remained cool and dry, the vent windows maintained a great cabin temperature in the absence of AC, and the foam seat cushions made up for any harshness in the suspension.

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After visiting Crater Lake, Mt. Hood, and Portland, we started to make our way back to Indiana along the Columbia River, eventually arriving at Boise.  Two long days through Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, and Illinois culminated in our arrival back in Indiana.

We were mostly lucky to make it so far with so few problems.  That being said, there is something to be said of taking a simple car, investing the time and money into maintaining it and developing intimate mechanical knowledge of it, then hoping for the best.

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