May 24th, 2017; The Day The Music Died
11-30-2019, 12:19 AM
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May 24th, 2017; The Day The Music Died
Topics: fun back story: Porsche breakdown & FIRE, repair
Length: Medium
https://rennlist.com/forums/944-and-...l#post16259999
Repair link
I had sent my Porsche to a specialist shop a few years ago and it was there for a few reasons and probably like 14 months. I was young and intimidated by the idea of tearing my own car apart so I did what I saw best fit. Mistakenly, I said to the head tech to “get it running,” I should say my family’s professional background revolves around mechanics and fixing cars. instead of asking for family help, I instead took it upon myself to ‘fix’ the vehicle. Long story short after a long time in the shop and about 10-11k of repairs including about half of that in labor costs, my 944, Genny, was ready to come home. That money was just about everything I had been making at my job at the time, as I had no other responsibilities. I know, I know, I should’ve done it myself: I’ll get to that.
I was with my dad and my best friend from high school. He drove at the time, a 2012 WRX, a decent car with very light modifications. Anyways I got into the driver seat after the surprise that it was ready to come home my dad was in the passenger seat. After stalling it about 3 times in the parking lot, my father got in to the seat. Without hesitation my dad peeled out leaving Sam, my friend and myself standing in amazement and jaws dropped. He drove up the block did a donut in the next parking lot and came back very calmly. From there I crawled into the driver seat. I drove my Porsche back from the shop and about 2.5 miles into the journey home, when we all stopped for a little gas (to fill it so that I could drive it regularly), I noticed a pretty substantial oil leak. The motor was kept running during fueling and the next scene is something out of a movie like Bullitt. I stopped the pump early, spilling gas from the nozzle all over the place, and explained quickly to my dad to get the car home. We hopped in and had only half the trip left to complete. The oil pressure gauge read 3.5bar under moderate/hard acceleration. Sam was in his car in tow, and he is desperately trying to catch up with us in order to tell me that my car in on fire.
My phone rings and my father is driving, there is some smoke that is coming through the center radio/climate control area (early dash). Sam tells me that the car is on FIRE. My father calmly asks: “from the exhaust or underneath?” Sam responds that it is indeed from underneath the car and without a second to think about it, my father drops a gear and accelerates in attempt to smother the flames (Dad has some racetrack experience). The oil pressure continuing strong and steady, but we pull over quickly literally 2/10s of a mile away from our house.
Once the car was slowing to a stop I jumped out, and ran into a tire shop for a fire extinguisher. I remember vividly and not calmly stating “I need a fire extinguisher; THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” someone slowly came out with one after I was pleading for them to hand it over.
When we opened the hood with the extinguisher ready, the flames had wisped away from the hot side of the block between the headers and exhaust outlets. There was a large hole in the camshaft tower housing leaving a little portion of the camshaft exposed. There was a gentleman that yelled across the road “HOW MUCH FOR IT RIGHT NOW!,” I have thought about that moment through every heartache presented by this car through today.
Genny is a vehicle I hope I never have to get rid of, and one that is in the process of becoming a resilient, reliable and fun daily driver.
She’s a 1984 Porsche 944 (duh), 2.5 liter M44.02, NA, sunroof, power windows model. We pulled her into my home garage where the motor was torn down the head, and the motor was pulled through the top.
A LOT has been learned through the ownership of this car, not only mechanic work, but life lessons, patience, practice, self learning and the fact that my father gave it to me has sentimental value that will likely increase the inevitable day he passes as none of us are immortal.
I do appreciate the car and although as of today it doesn’t run, its very close and put on hold for the winter. I live in Upstate New York and the vehicle is located on Long Island at my family’s long time home. It’s a little unorthodox but its stored outside, worked outside and I have become a certified shade tree mechanic, with the help of my father and uncle to put it back together.
Length: Medium
https://rennlist.com/forums/944-and-...l#post16259999
Repair link
I had sent my Porsche to a specialist shop a few years ago and it was there for a few reasons and probably like 14 months. I was young and intimidated by the idea of tearing my own car apart so I did what I saw best fit. Mistakenly, I said to the head tech to “get it running,” I should say my family’s professional background revolves around mechanics and fixing cars. instead of asking for family help, I instead took it upon myself to ‘fix’ the vehicle. Long story short after a long time in the shop and about 10-11k of repairs including about half of that in labor costs, my 944, Genny, was ready to come home. That money was just about everything I had been making at my job at the time, as I had no other responsibilities. I know, I know, I should’ve done it myself: I’ll get to that.
I was with my dad and my best friend from high school. He drove at the time, a 2012 WRX, a decent car with very light modifications. Anyways I got into the driver seat after the surprise that it was ready to come home my dad was in the passenger seat. After stalling it about 3 times in the parking lot, my father got in to the seat. Without hesitation my dad peeled out leaving Sam, my friend and myself standing in amazement and jaws dropped. He drove up the block did a donut in the next parking lot and came back very calmly. From there I crawled into the driver seat. I drove my Porsche back from the shop and about 2.5 miles into the journey home, when we all stopped for a little gas (to fill it so that I could drive it regularly), I noticed a pretty substantial oil leak. The motor was kept running during fueling and the next scene is something out of a movie like Bullitt. I stopped the pump early, spilling gas from the nozzle all over the place, and explained quickly to my dad to get the car home. We hopped in and had only half the trip left to complete. The oil pressure gauge read 3.5bar under moderate/hard acceleration. Sam was in his car in tow, and he is desperately trying to catch up with us in order to tell me that my car in on fire.
My phone rings and my father is driving, there is some smoke that is coming through the center radio/climate control area (early dash). Sam tells me that the car is on FIRE. My father calmly asks: “from the exhaust or underneath?” Sam responds that it is indeed from underneath the car and without a second to think about it, my father drops a gear and accelerates in attempt to smother the flames (Dad has some racetrack experience). The oil pressure continuing strong and steady, but we pull over quickly literally 2/10s of a mile away from our house.
Once the car was slowing to a stop I jumped out, and ran into a tire shop for a fire extinguisher. I remember vividly and not calmly stating “I need a fire extinguisher; THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” someone slowly came out with one after I was pleading for them to hand it over.
When we opened the hood with the extinguisher ready, the flames had wisped away from the hot side of the block between the headers and exhaust outlets. There was a large hole in the camshaft tower housing leaving a little portion of the camshaft exposed. There was a gentleman that yelled across the road “HOW MUCH FOR IT RIGHT NOW!,” I have thought about that moment through every heartache presented by this car through today.
Genny is a vehicle I hope I never have to get rid of, and one that is in the process of becoming a resilient, reliable and fun daily driver.
She’s a 1984 Porsche 944 (duh), 2.5 liter M44.02, NA, sunroof, power windows model. We pulled her into my home garage where the motor was torn down the head, and the motor was pulled through the top.
A LOT has been learned through the ownership of this car, not only mechanic work, but life lessons, patience, practice, self learning and the fact that my father gave it to me has sentimental value that will likely increase the inevitable day he passes as none of us are immortal.
I do appreciate the car and although as of today it doesn’t run, its very close and put on hold for the winter. I live in Upstate New York and the vehicle is located on Long Island at my family’s long time home. It’s a little unorthodox but its stored outside, worked outside and I have become a certified shade tree mechanic, with the help of my father and uncle to put it back together.
