One week, and recovering

...what are you gonna do?
Originally uploaded by The Put-Man.

A week ago, I was all wrapped up with preparations to get my '74 Spider (Bella) out to Mike Slayton's shop for the club's tech day. This was a big deal for me, not only was it my first club event, not only was I coming from west of Chicago, but I'd spent all spring working on my car with much emailed support and advice from many of you in the club. I'd never been to an event, never met any of you, yet everyone helped wherever they could. And I got her back on the road! For the first time in four years, for the first time since I moved from Virginia...it was so good to hear her "voice", and get her out on some country roads where she could really clear her throat. And now she was going to meet everyone...

I was traveling for business all week before Tech Day , so I'd busted my butt the previous weekend making sure Bella got all washed and waxed for her debut event. Four years of garage grime is tough to take off, and after many hours rubbing and polishing she looked better than she had in years. I wanted her to make a good first impression, and after all my headaches and frustrations getting her back on the road, it was a nice treat to just rub and polish.

Damn, she looked great!

www.flickr.com/photos/leeputmanjr/518786620/

So then, last Saturday I was up early and running around like a nervous mother as I got ready to hit the road. Check tire pressure. Check oil. Check brake fluid. Attach tow bar. Hook to back of Jeep. Make sure destination address shows up in NAV system. Paper directions in Jeep as back up. Ice in cooler for trip. Full tank of gas.

9am, ready to roll out.

The highways around here are always a tough area to tow a car. Big Trucks zoom past, the air rocks the Jeep, Bella tries to follow, and I feel like I swayed my way out of Chicago. Once we got past Gary, Indiana, I felt like I could unclench just a bit. Once we were headed north through rural Michigan, I started to anticipate. Once we were close, I got nervous. A dirt road? Really? Then, through the trees, I saw them. Yellow, red, blue, and orange...and I knew I was in the right spot!

Frankly, as I pulled in, I wasn't watching what I was doing, I was checking out the other Spiders. I couldn't wait to get inside, see what was going on. As I walked up, many nice people said hello, but my eyes were on the car up on Mike's lift, and the crowd around it. Watching him poke, prod, and wiggle things was something that I'm sure was interesting only to those of us who own these cars.

Then it was my turn.

Mike had to help me un-snap my tow bar, but he was very gracious. Why that damn thing sticks sometimes, and not others...it's beyond me. But we got off, and he asked me "Will it start?" DAMN RIGHT! Thankfully, in front of her first big crowd, Bella behaved and fired right up.

Pulling into the lift area, several club members commented on how nice she sounded, how well she idled. How good her interior looked. I couldn't have been more proud. Mike asked me tot pop the hood, and he looked around. He nagged me about not having my timing cover on, but said generally she looked great for a Spider of that vintage.

Then we went to lift her up.

There was a general good natured hubub of conversation going on that went silent, when from under my car Mike said "Uh oh". Never something you want to hear from your Doctor, or your mechanic. He spent some time adjusting the lift's support arms, and finally got the car up in the air.

...and he showed me the rust...

Bella had a hole in her floorboard that I'd known about for a long time. I'd also known about some shock tower rust, but had always assumed it could be cut out, and fixed with the welding in of new metal. What I didn't know was what Mike showed me - how the rust had gotten in under the "protective" undercoating, and the whole driver's side of the car was weakened. Crusty rust was EVERYWHERE. It had worked up under the rockers, and into the frame rail. Mike then showed me the kicker - while Bella's passenger side was the proper four inches above the right side lift support, on the driver's side she was resting on it. Structural integrity had left the building.

The shock towers were rusted worse, and even the drivetrain's main bearing was "gone". Mike told me in a frank, and straightforward way that I'd have NOT made it there if I'd driven her from Chicago. He told me that the car was dangerous, and sooner or later, there was a possibility of entirely loosing a wheel and having a horrific crash.

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I'd known there was rust. The irony being that when I'd bought the car, I didn't want one that was good mechanically, I just wanted one rust free. She'd been in a New Jersey garage for 10 years. I think the moisture from the dirt floor did her in. A month ago, I'd had her down at Giovanni's shop in Chicago, AutoSprint. I needed his help fixing an odd fuel pump issue, and he was great. He told me about the rust, but I guess I didn't hear him well enough.

Mike asked me if I had another car. In confusion, I pointed at my Jeep. He smiled and said "No, I mean, do you have another FIAT?" Another one? Isn't it crazy enough to own ONE? No, I told him, I live in a one-car-garage townhouse. Several people's eyes went wide at this point, and still not getting it, I asked why.

"Because", he said "what you have here is a great PARTS car".

Bella? A parts car? Really?

"She's not worth fixing, and you could use these parts on a shell to make a GREAT car".

Wow. I felt like I needed to sit down. Someone asked what I'd take for her rims. Huh? Are you KIDDING me?

I needed to get her out of there. Pulling off the lift, I had to gun the engine, and she smartly squealed a bit of rubber.

Out in the parking lot, I just sat in her for a few minutes. I was shocked, but I knew it was all true. It felt too much like the time I'd taken my dog, Mr Beagle to the vet when he wasn't feeling well. I found out unexpectedly that he had kidney failure, and I had all-too-short notice that I needed to do the kind thing and have him put down.

But, put Bella down? Turn her into parts? I'd just gotten her back on the road, and she was so happy. She didn't even know she felt sick. And I had so much planned. New carbs, cams, engine mounts, new chrome and paint. Now...she was just parts.

I couldn't bear it. And knowing that I'd be towing her home just to pull her apart...it was too ugly for me. So, in a moment of grief, weakness, and bitter sadness, I sold her for her parts. The car that my Father had worked on with me the summer before he died, she was now nothing more than a rusty organ donor.

Tomorrow will mark the end of my first Fiat-free week. It feels unreal, and it has been a bit of a shock each night to see my empty garage. It looks as empty as my heart feels.

But I got a lot of emails. Support from those who understand. And I have, believe it or not, two test drives scheduled for tomorrow. Being Fiat-Free has made me twitchy, and we need to fix this.

The leading candidate:

www.flickr.com/photos/leeputmanjr/536258890/

Many Thanks to Brian & Carol who found this '72 Spider for sale on Craig's list for me. She's got a horrid two-tone paint job, some customization on her dash, and what looks to be an incorrect triangular hood badge.

I just hope she's rust free...