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The turning of the screw
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“Go!”
Press the pedal. Turn the screw.
Look for bubbles. Turn the screw.
“Go!”
Press the pedal. Turn the screw.
Look for bubbles. Turn the screw.
Repeat.
I have reduced bleeding the brakes on my ‘73 Fiat Spider to a practiced rhythm: a series of mechanical movements injecting a transfusion of fluid into the aging brake lines. Every press of the pedal purges air bubbles and dingy spent fluid, and pulls sparkling clear fluid in.
The hydraulic hoses, once supple and smooth, have become dry and cracked, threatening new leaks at the slightest provocation. We are unable to transplant new hoses, however, because the car will not give up her original equipment. Time spent alone and inoperable a few years back cemented the hoses to the car. Like an old woman, she will not change her ways for anything. All we can do is provide her with treatment to slow the debilitation process.
The treatment regimen began when Dad located my Fiat about six years ago sitting neglected in a garage downtown. The previous owner was a bodybuilder by the name of Swede, who had decided to devote himself to a younger, faster motorcycle, and unload the aging sports car.
“She was a pretty thing once,” Swede said. “The years and hard driving wore her out, that’s all”
I looked at her sitting in that cramped garage strewn with greasy tools, and imagined her in her prime, just out of the factory: Flashing eyes, flawless paint, and dangerous curves that beg hard driving and tight corners.
My mental picture was a far cry from the reality of a car that has traveled 230,000 miles. Dents marked points of impact all over her body, reflecting the nearly 30 years of wear and tear. Vital fluids dripped from numerous places, staining the garage floor. The cracked, sagging interior spoke of summers spent topless. But that was not what I was seeing when I wrote the check for $750.
After the purchase, my garage was transformed into a hospice for aging Italian sports cars. Already parked there was a ‘79 Fiat well on the road to recovery. I had high hopes for our new patient, despite our initial diagnosis – sitting car disease. In these cases, it is up to the combined will power of doctor and patient to see the patient through.
At first, Dad and I approached the problem with enthusiasm. At the time it was an interesting new challenge, having to coerce her into cooperation with the treatment:
“OK, we’ve installed the new master cylinder
again,” Dad says. “Let’s bleed the brakes again and seeif it works.”
“It damn well better,” I say, in my deepest voice.
Knuckles crack. The torque wrench menacingly taps my open hand.
“I’ll get under the car again, and you press the pedal when I say ‘Go’,” Dad says.
We always do this when neighbors aren’t around.
While these performances were initially entertaining, years of almost daily care curbed our enthusiasm. I often toyed with replacing her with a newer vehicle.
The day finally came when she broke down at BSU, and we couldn’t muster the resources to revive her. Although we have had our differences I couldn’t bear to leave her for the jackals in the junkyards. Instead she slumbers quietly under a blue car cover, next to my new Saturn.
Investing in automotive perfection
The “Fiat Expenditure File” is a manila folder about one inch thick. Faded, wrinkled receipts populate the folder, and stick out around the edges, ordered by transaction date. Below is a very partial list, pertaining only to items mentioned in the story.
Brake calipers (6): $344.50
Brake caliper rebuild kits (4): $23.00
Bleeder screws (4): $7.00
Brake hoses (4): $48.00
Master cylinder (2): $158.06
Brake pads (2 sets): $24.00
Rotors (4): Free, pulled from ‘79 Fiat (wrecked)
Brake booster (1): Free, pulled from ‘79 Fiat (wrecked)
Fiat 124 style dashboard (1): $265.00
Dent-free body panels (3): $100, pulled from ‘74 Fiat (wrecked)
Shipping for above parts (total): $83.00
Total: $1052.56
Ted Harmon, The Arbiter
