Don’t Confuse Me with Facts
Albrecht Stachel
Use It or Lose It
“We have met the enemy and he is us” This line from Walt Kelly’s classic “Pogo” comic strip is an apt description of many of us, perhaps more so for our automotive-ownership strategies. The Declaration of Independence affirms U.S. citizens’ right to pursue happiness; it stands to reason that every one of us is going to manage our Mercedes projects in a fashion aligned with our perception of automotive happiness. However, happiness alone is not necessarily a recipe for success, particularly the tendency to cultivate our own happiness through denial and deferral, which can be fatal to the best-laid automotive plans.
Having witnessed my customers’ varied maintenance philosophies, it is my belief that if you have been successful with past automobile strategies, you will likely continue in that success; conversely, if you have experienced disappointment and consternation in the past with automobiles, your success rate is not likely to improve without a change in approach.
Cars are compound, complex systems, not unlike our bodies. If you have had the misfortune of a long stay in a hospital bed, you know it is not easy to return an atrophied physique to full activity without a committed program of physical rehabilitation. The same is true for automobiles. It is best to possess resolve for a comprehensive approach and implement system-wide repairs. This prevents serial failures that lead to serial repairs and wasted time in duplicated labor.
An older vehicle’s restoration also requires perseverance. Although you have diligently maintained all of the systems and made necessary repairs for reliable function, new problems may still present after pressing a machine back into service.
Approximately six years ago, I purchased a 1959 Mercedes Benz 300d (W189) suffering from the usual delayed-service program many of us adopt. In the final analysis of this case, three generations of this 300d’s ownership never produced a single M-B member able to take control of the car. Three children, a house in the ’burbs and a spouse unhappy with the car afforded me the opportunity to adopt my own 300d challenge.
Because the W186 and W189s are lifetime cars, it can seem like a lifetime for our baby’s rebirth. Age works against us. Not exercising our older cars is also a major culprit in systems deterioration in 1950 and ’60’s cars. “Use it or lose it” is an adage applicable to all things in our lives, including our brains and our cars. Although organic braking system components are particularly vulnerable, all organic parts throughout a vehicle – fluids, seals and rubber, etc. – are subject to deterioration and failure over time.
Changing fluids, filters and hoses on my 300d was easy – the brakes were a task. The entire braking system was in decay; the booster, hydraulic cylinders, hoses and shoes needed an entire overhaul.
After those first few sessions of rehabilitation, the 300d embarked on its new life. And I began to trust it. Safety first, then reliability, and last in line – good looks are the order of priorities for me as a car is re-awakened. Here begins my own story of deferral and denial, despite all the generous advice I freely dispense.
On a pleasant evening in August, my wife Alison and I set out with another couple in the 300d for a dining destination in Spring Green, Wis. Following a pleasant meal, we were sitting in the car anticipating a lovely trip home; a group of fellow diners who had noticed my 300d were watching, waiting to hear the engine start. All the windows were down, displaying the car’s most favorable feature – the open, four-door hardtop.
The starter faithfully spun the engine, but without catching a glimmer of hope the engine would start. Damn! The sweat of embarrassment and anxiety poured from my face. The onlookers did eventually give up, and with apparent empathy to my plight, fled the scene. Their own confidence waning, my guests began to get nervous.
The sun was setting and I grew concerned that the situation would worsen as the battery weakened.
The interior of the fuel filter - Not a good sign
After what seemed an eternity, the beast coughed to life. What a relief! The engine was merely starved of fuel.
That fuel system went on to bedevil the car – and me – for many a month. I had hope though, having often emptied the crud out of the pre-filter screen. I bought a box of fine fuel filters to stay on top of the fuel-contamination problem. But in final exasperation, out came the fuel tank. And I hate the odor of old fuel and fuel tanks. What a mess 50 years of oblivious neglect can unleash on a fuel system and its tank when a car is not in use. The steel fuel lines, too, were internally caked with rust particles; they were plain old plugged-up. I had to play plumber with the fuel tank and steel lines, as well as the original upright electric fuel pump – a Jurassic device accessible by way of a trap door in the trunk.
The fuel delivery system was revamped by employing a continuously running Bosch electric fuel pump salvaged from a CIS-injected 380SL we cannibalized. This pump replacement has proven particularly useful because our present, alcohol-laden fuels provoke vapor lock in the older fuel-injection systems. My 300d now had a new lease on life.
Living with the 300d became a pleasant and charming adventure until the starter solenoid took a vacation. This is where that perseverance comes in. Not a major issue; the starter is easily removed and replaced in a 300d. Until the replacement starter was installed, I carried a thick-walled metal pipe, approximately 4 feet long; it was a suitable weapon to aim between the exhaust pipes and other engine equipment in order to whack the solenoid while Alison engaged the starter switch.
My evil action hitting the solenoid worked for a while. One day, it did not. What an ego-deflating experience it is to have a grand car such as the 300d towed away on a flatbed. It is also remarkable how quickly a crowd gathers to witness the carcass of a magnificent car as it is dragged away. The new starter provided peace of mind and was the last insult the car dished out to me. (I noticed that the new Bosch starter had a sticker similar to a “no parking” sign, but instead of a “P” under the forbidding diagonal line, there was a hammer.) The car has been in regular summer service for the past two years without further incident.
With some embarrassment, I have to accept that being in the Mercedes Benz service business does not provide a free pass when faced with Mother Nature’s entopic obstreperousness. I finally have this 300d running reliably, but the fuel system sure kicked my – asterisk is needed here – in the process.
I practiced a comprehensive, system-wide-repairs approach to this project. Still, I allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of being the master of the situation. When the fuel system began having issues, and I chased the problems as they unfolded. I paid the price.
Thorough system-wide service and repairs executed with discipline are the only effective way to restore a car to reliable operation. Other ownership strategies could lead to embarrassment and shame in front of friends and family, disgust with your choice of automobile, an astounding hit to the pocketbook, and finally, risk to the car, your life and limb.
Albrecht Stachel is chief bottle-washer at Brooklyn Motoren Werke Inc., in Brooklyn, Wisconsin, and his mind is made up. Visit www.brooklyn300.com.