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. 

Season 2

Unexpectedly, it's mid-March and very unseasonably warm.  Michigan usually has at least 3 more weeks (usually more!) of cold and snowy punishment for all the summer sin we northerners got into last year. It's been a very strange winter anyway, and then about two weeks ago it just randomly became spring-like.  When we put the Vette away for the winter back in November I had every intention of not bringing it back until the first week of May, and I was totally okay with that until about two days ago.  Two days ago I got out of the gym, rolled down the window of my regular car, and stuck my arm out in the breeze.  And then I thought of Stella.  Once that happened the beautiful sunshine and the warm breeze killed me slowly, hour after hour, until I knew I couldn't waste another single nice day hanging my arm out the window of any normal car.

It might snow again, but who gives a shit?  I miss my beautiful car and this kind of weather is what she was built for.

So today Mike brought Stella home from Steve's garage, where she's been safe from the harsh elements for over 4 months.  It's probably premature, but I'm not going to complain about an extra month of Corvette therapy.  I pulled into my parking lot, saw her parked in our (new!) carport and instantly got a shit-eating grin on my face.  It's simply incredible how much I missed her.

We went for a drive and I was reminded of all my favorite parts.  The engine start up, and the growling noise it makes while idling at a red light (much smoother, I'm proud to add, since we dropped a new engine inside). The way it jumps when you stamp down on the accelerator when the light turns green.  The whoosh of the enormous fan in front of the engine, which can be heard over it all when you go a little too fast. ;)  The heads she turns each time we take her out. The smell of leather, heat and exhaust.  Over the winter while I worked on the scrapbook my sister gave me, Mike had brought several receipts from inside the glove box which smelled like that.  I remember smelling them over and over, taking myself back to moments like today.  Moments which I couldn't have until warmth returned.

And I was happy.  So, so happy.

As usual, we've made lofty plans for season two.  We've saved money all winter and hope to replace the seat belts and the transmission.  We also want to repair the leak in the brake line.  Once that leak is gone, and the transmission is replaced, we will have stopped all fluid leaks.  That doesn't seem like a big deal, but to me the idea of a 36 year old car not leaving a drop of oil, coolant, or brake fluid behind on the ground is an achievement.  It's like coming to a milestone and looking back at the distance you've crossed.  Stuff like that makes me feel so good about it all.  Just like when I admire the smooth, flawless grumble of the engine since we've replaced it--so much better than before.  Slowly, slowly, we're making a difference--making her better.

I have a little photo shoot with Stella currently in the works. I KNOW THAT'S CRAZY.  But whatever. :D

From the Parts of Lesser Corvettes

One morning not too long after we purchased the car, I woke up crazy-early and couldn't go back to sleep.  To kill time until Mike got up, I started looking for a website to order the "Corvette" letting which is missing from Stella's rear fender.  I opened up Google and searched for '1976 Corvette Stingray rear fender emblem.'  This is what I got in plenty:

And I was at once completely confused, because having memorized every inch of my new hot rod, I knew that Stella's rear end did NOT look like that!  This emblem was all lower-case letters which were also connected to each other, so that when centered it would look like this:

That rear end doesn't look a thing like the one on my '76.  Instead, each letter in the word 'Corvette' is it's own individual piece (not connected) and capitalized.  I had this picture which I had taken of Stella to compare to:

You can easily see that the spaces where the letters go are definitely not connected.  After doing vast research, it became clear to me that Stella's rear fender was not the rear fender of a 1976 Stingray, but of a 1974, or more likely, a 1975 Stingray. It wasn't until '76 when the rear emblem became lower-case and connected as in the top picture. Distraught, I started entertaining wild and crazy notions, like maybe Stella isn't a '76 at all and the guy we bought it from had been mistaken!  Luckily, when logic set in I realized that the title lists it as a '76, and therefore a '76 it is.

Well, mostly anyway. ;)

Since that day Mike and I have discovered several oddities which suggest that our Vette is more like a patchwork quilt.  The ULTIMATE CORVETTE, if you will, made from parts of lesser Vettes. ;)  The rear and front fenders have both been replaced, which is also why the headlamps don't go up and down simultaneously (whoever put them back in did a less than admirable job).  Also, while clearing the brake lines of air pockets one mid-summer day, Mike discovered that Stella had two bleeder valves per rear brake (the 1976 only had one bleeder valve per tire).  It wasn't until earlier years, 1978, that the rear brake structure acquired the second valve.

Luckily, the one feature which could most easily distinguish a '76 from other models was not changed in Stella, despite having parts from both older and younger Corvettes: the steering wheel (which is hands-down the least desirable design for a wheel among collectors).

When straightened, the '76 steering wheel has two spokes on either side (4 in all), positioned almost perfectly to obstruct the driver's view of the speedometer and other important gauges on the dash. It is my belief that this is probably what makes it so unpopular (the '77 adopted a different wheel design much to the relief of Corvette-lovers).  Many owners of '76's swap out this wheel design for either an older or younger model, but I have no interest whatsoever in doing such a thing.  Despite its poor design, this odd steering wheel is part of what makes Stella a '76, and I want nothing but to admire her more unique features.

These oddities might not win Stella any "pretty car" trophies at car shows, but they certainly make her stand out from the crowd for me.  It has been beyond exciting discovering her piece by piece, learning her story little by little.