Everybody Loves Stella

We finally got Stella back after three stressful weeks at the shop.  The list of parts which were required to fix the rear wheel and surrounding mechanisms was lengthy and sad. The mechanic replaced the right wheel bearings, spindle, knuckle, outer side U-joint, bolt at the bottom of knuckle, right rear caliper, rear brake pads and rear rotors.  Wow.  I can't believe that this poor car drove us as far as she did with so little to work with. The shop, which I spent much of the three weeks bitching about to anyone who would listen, ended up shaving more than $600 worth of labor off our final bill.  Why? I like to think it's because  they like us (or feel sorry for us!), but probably it's because they know they aren't finished with Stella yet. ;)

We found her parked just outside, filthy dirty, with hardly any coolant left in her radiator and a dead battery.  Mike tried valiantly to jump her (see below) but there simply wasn't enough juice to get her going, so we had to recharge.  For an hour we sat next to her in the sweltering heat, waiting patiently for her battery to charge on the pavement outside. We finally got her back on the road and home safely, though her engine started heating up near the end from lack of coolant.  I feel like she's hurt bad, but at least she's home safe with me now.

This repair is only outdone by the total engine replacement which took place last year in August.  At that point we had only owned Stella for about three months or so, and everyone thought we were nuts (some even told us so!).  Much to my honest surprise, this time around was much different.  During my brief moments of doubt, the moments when I seriously considered the possibility that I wouldn't be able to continue rehabilitating this car, every single person I confided in told me I should keep her.  Every single one. Friends, family and coworkers alike seemed distraught that I was even entertaining the idea of selling her now, after all we'd been through together.  My mother, whose looming judgement once almost scared me away from buying Stella in the first place, said it best:

"Right now you should enjoy whatever Stella has in her to give you.  Continue making her better so she'll one day be able to give you more."

Somewhere along the way, and somehow without me noticing at all, people fell in love with Stella.  I guess it wasn't just my life she changed forever.

~~

Broken

It's been an onslaught of bad news from the shop, which shouldn't catch me off guard anymore but somehow still does.  They've had her for two weeks now, and almost a week longer than they promised it would take.  After awaiting her parts to arrive, the mechanic (Bill) realized that he didn't have the proper tool he needed and he had to order that as well.  Apparently they called all over the Lansing area looking for both parts and the tool, with little success.  Mike said they had to order from California. 

Without the invoice, I don't know exactly what needed to be replaced, but on Wednesday (the day AFTER it was supposed to be finished) they called Mike to come into the shop to discuss the 'complications.'  Basically, we were told that this car has had absolutely ZERO preventative maintenance done throughout its lifespan (nearly 40 years).  As a result, the mechanical parts that attach the wheel to the frame of the car are deteriorating so badly that they've basically frozen themselves together.  Things that are supposed to pivot don't pivot.  Things that are supposed to glide against one another don't glide.  You get the idea.  

Stella is in terrible shape.  Anything that hasn't already been replaced by Mike and myself (and that list grows longer and longer, luckily) needs to be replaced, eventually.  

All this bad news meant more parts, labor and of course, more money.  The bill, which rivals the cost to replace the engine last summer, will more than clean out the account we had put together since last fall to pay for repairs this summer. I don't mind spending that money--that's what it's there for--but now we go forth into the remainder of the season without the financial net below. 

And then Mike tells me the bad news.  

"Wait, all that stuff before was the GOOD news??"  Yeah that's exactly what I said.

He tells me that the driver's side rear wheel and affiliated mechanisms are in just as poor a state as this passenger rear wheel which we are currently paying to have rebuilt.  The only difference is that the mechanisms on the drivers side haven't quite begun to snap apart yet, but that could go at any time.  

ANY.  TIME.

That could mean a year from now, or next week.  And for the first time since owning this machine, I feel defeated. I want to do what is right by her, but I can't.  I simply can't.  At least not this summer.  Mike tells me all this while I'm at work, struggling to remain focused, and it's all I can do not to break down and cry.  Stella's health is deteriorating faster than Mike and I can afford to keep up with her (and I already spent one House Fund on her last year--much as I love her, that won't be happening again).  I faced a sad reality and a tragic choice.

A). Sell her and cut our losses

or 

B). Take her off the road for a year or more until we have the funds to do what needs to be done

My heart usually rules in my decision making, but unlike a lot of people, my brain ALWAYS gets a say. Always.  Logic and reason were telling me to sell her, even if only for parts, while my heart screamed "NO!"  In the end, it was Mike who convinced me of the right thing to do.  For him the choice was never a choice at all.  We love that car like a child.  Maybe no one else can understand that, and maybe it's irresponsible and financial suicide, but it's nevertheless true.  

We don't give up.  That car is alive today because of us--we've invested money and soul into her. And I find myself grateful that Mike is as batshit-crazy in love with this car as me.

Because the driver's side wheel hasn't had any symptoms of being on the verge of suddenly falling apart, Mike feels confident (at moments more than me!) that we'll be safe driving her.  Next spring we'll have the proper funds to do the same to the driver's side as we did the passenger.  But we won't be driving her NEARLY as much as we have been.  No more highway travel, and no more 2 1/2 hour joy-rides through the countryside.  Once a week or biweekly, and special occasions only.  And, if we notice anything going sour, we park her the remainder of the summer.  Period.    

I still don't have Stella back, and I still don't know if there will be any more bad news.  This car is bound to have some good karma eventually.... right? :(

My Chrome-Wheeled Child

If the extent to which I baby, worry-over, and adore Stella is any indication of how I will be with real children someday, I predict I will be of the over-protective, freak-out-at-their-every-strange-noise variety.  I also somehow manage to be constantly watchful of her slightest hiccup or sneeze, but yet somehow miss important symptoms of illness when they appear.  I guess I'm making all the normal mistakes of a "parent," if an inanimate object such as a car could ever be considered a child.

  We've had Stella out of the garage for over two months now, and I've been bragging about how awesome she's been and how we haven't had the slightest problem with her whatsoever.  Which makes me an idiot, by the way.  Tempting fate is an unfortunate (and unwanted) trait of mine. 

So we were driving along (on the highway because all terrible Stella-related drama occurs with cars going 70 mph 2 feet away from us) and everything is going just fine.  Then I hear a strange noise, kind of like the noise wind makes when your car window is cracked (which ours were) but it was different than it had been previously.  I ask Mike about it, and he faithfully checks the gauges on the dash to make sure everything is okey-dokey.  And of COURSE it's not!  The temperature gauge, which normally sits at about 200 degrees, was way past that in the 300+ range, past the part of the gauge that's red and BAD.  I tell Mike to pull over while he optimistically tries to figure out what's wrong.  "Just PULL OVER now before we melt another engine," I say.  

So there we are, sitting by the side of the road (again) with the hood up.  I hear a crazy noise coming from the coolant overflow container, and we realize that the sound is the coolant boiling.  Because it's that hot.  I'm thinking we get it towed so we don't damage anything, but Mike is confident we can get it home safely.  So we start her up, pull into traffic, and like a miracle... the engine cools off.  We drive around for a good half an hour, trying to stress it out enough to overheat again (I know I'm an idiot, covered that already!) but it never did.  It's as if it NEVER HAPPENED.  The next day Mike checks the radiator and the damn thing has almost no coolant left.  

I then proceeded to spend the next 3 days blaming myself for almost blowing up my brand new engine by being careless. I'm a terrible mother. :(

By the time I was finally feeling better about myself, the next problem happened. 

Shortly after getting ALL her maintenance fluids checked and topped off, we started hearing a squeaking sound coming from the rear passenger tire.  Having had squeaky wheels before, we thought it was a problem with the steel wheels/chrome hubcap system we've got going on.  Last time it happened we had the tires rotated and it took care of it right away, but when the squeaking turned into a clanging noise, I started to get a little concerned.  

Because Stella doesn't have a computer like most modern cars, there are only a few rustic ways to tell if something is wrong:  1) One of the gauges is off its normal value, 2) Something smells funny, 3) Something sounds funny, 4) Smoke,  or 5) Something feels different (my favorite).  The 'clanging' noise was accompanied with a sort of shifting beneath my seat, which was just barely noticeable.  Something was moving back there that shouldn't have been, and it was something that came into the frame of the car from the wheel.

We get the tires rotated (ever optimistic, my husband and I) and drive around to see if it changed anything.  The noise is gone and everything seems to have miraculously fixed itself. Again. Gotta love antique cars for being mysterious like that. So after about 20 minutes or so I smell something funny.  Something burning.  The last time I smelled that smell the engine collapsed on us on the side of the highway.

I had another 'PULL OVER NOW' moment.

I lay on the dirty ground in the middle of the road, peering up into Stella's undercarriage because I'm either A) Crazy or B) I love this car so damn much that I no longer have any sense of shame/reason/logic.  Faint, barely noticeable puffs of smoke are coming from the wheel bearing mechanisms behind the rear passenger tire.

*sigh*

We call a tow man to come get us and spend 45 minutes sitting in Stella in the setting sunshine.  Which was wonderful (no sarcasm!) even though I knew something serious was wrong.  A total ASSHOLE tow guy helped us get her to the same shop that replaced her engine last year, and we waited by the phone for 2 long days for the bad news.

Because let me tell you, when Stella breaks, it's never a little thing.  She holds on and doesn't complain until something truly horrific happens.

The shop calls us on the 3rd day and gives us a quote (which promptly makes me hit the roof) and tells us the damage.  The passenger side rear wheel lost its rotor, spindle and wheel bearing simultaneously.  The driver's side rear wheel also needed work done on the bearing.  Essentially, Stella lost her hind legs.  The legs that do all the work in a rear-wheel drive vehicle.  The legs that push the weight of the car and quite literally do all the heavy lifting. 

I humbly realize, once again, that I'm the only one that's loved her for a very long time. 

So she sits in the shop alone right now, her battery probably drained days ago, awaiting new parts to arrive.  They need to keep her until Tuesday and I'm without my needy, slightly handicapped, chrome-wheeled child for the first time since winter.  

There is a great sadness inside of me.

Licensed

It's here!! Mike and I have been looking forward to getting a personalized or "vanity" license plate for Stella for quite some time.  But I only wanted to get one if we could get some letter/number combination that would spell out her name, and we were lucky to have found one available! Can't wait to see how it looks!! :)

Happy Birthday

Because I can't exactly remember what day we officially bought Stella (seems out of character for me, huh? I KNOW!), I decided to just think of her 'birthday' as the day we have to renew her license plate.  As luck would have it, that day is also my husband's birthday!  I don't want a mere car, much as I love her, to steal my beloved Hubby's special day, but I got Stella a little something-something for her birthday anyway. Have to wait for it to come in the mail though.

PICTURES TO COME! ;)

Stella Meets the Family

Since Stella's engine broke down on the highway less than a year ago I've been reluctant to take her on long trips, lest something catastrophic should happen again.  Mike has driven her alone much farther than we've driven her together--taking her as far as Grand Rapids and Lake Michigan.  I guess I should probably have more faith in her--after all the engine is brand new and the previous engine lasted for 30+ years.  Even still, I struggled for several days before finally deciding to drive her the 50 or so miles to my parents' house near Flint, where she had never been before.

 
It was a gorgeous Friday afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and perfect weather for driving.  And, just like my husband reassured me many times before, Stella did just what she was meant to do and she did it well.  We made it to my parents' house without a hiccup.

I've been wanting to take her home so baldy for quite some time.  I can't describe it, but there's something special about having her parked in the driveway where I used to play with sidewalk chalk as a child.  Where I learned to ride a bike, where I was picked up and dropped off for school dances, and where I parked my first car.  Home is where I first fell in love with sports cars, and not only Corvettes but Camaros, Mustangs, and especially Firebirds (which aren't even made anymore!).  Looking out that living room window is where I saw my first Corvette Stingray, driven by a neighbor guy who lived two doors down from my parents.  I remember dozens of times sitting on the couch and hearing that car coming, looking up and watching it creep past.  I remember posing in front of it in my tennis skirt and polo one afternoon when he'd parked it in the street.  It was a hideous color, but you can't hide beauty like that.

I felt sentimental, standing in the driveway taking pictures with my family.  As I kid I had dreams.  As an adult I drove one of my dreams back to this childhood place.  That's what Stella is to me--a fulfillment of a dream.  I hope that old Corvette makes my parents happy too, if only for that reason.

Mom and Dad saw Stella a few short weeks after Mike and I bought her, but my sister Kristen got to meet her for the first time during this visit!! :D I was very excited for her to see Stella in person, especially after giving me the lovely scrapbook for Christmas which I've enjoyed so much since. You can bet that these pictures will make it into those pages, and I can imagine looking back at them years from now, maybe with my own children someday.

Even Colby-Jack, my family's adorable cocker-spaniel, got a picture with Stella!  Although I'm sure she was a little too noisy/smelly for his tastes! ;) 

Stella Loves These Roads

If this old car could talk, surely she would tell you how much she loves to drive.   Every road seems to compliment her in some way, whether it be the city roads where she can be admired, or country roads where she can stretch her legs. The simple act of being inside her to witness what comes so naturally is a joy I indulge in whenever Mother Nature allows.