1984 Renault Fuego One day I stopped in at my French car mechanic's shop, and he showed me a gorgeous Fuego he had for sale. Unlike the turbo that I had years earlier, with the ridiculous mag wheels and ugly, custom paint job, this one was totally unmolested. It was low miles, and even had the original tires! He offered it to me for $850. My plan was to drive it around for a while and then flip it on eBay.I should have known better. After driving it for only a short while, it died on me. I had it towed right back to my mechanic, who determined that the gas tank was full of crud, and it messed up the fuel punp. French engineers, in their infinite wisdom, put that fuel filter AFTER the pump. My mechanic was able to save the pump, which was a good thing because it was a very complex, high-pressure affair, but the tank just had to be addressed. I pulled the tank out without too much trouble, and took it to a local shop that specialized in gas tank reconditioning. The guy said he could not guarantee that it would not leak when he was all done with it. I got it back from him and it looked beautiful. I put it back in the car, which was a whole hell of a lot harder than taking it out. I got it all buttoned up, put some gas in, and it leaked all along the straps. This was the end of the season, so it lay like that until the following Spring. I found a guy in southern Maryland who had a tank he would sell me. I spent another couple hours pulling the tank back out of my car. Then I invested a long, long drive, another couple hours pulling the tank out of his fuego, $150 for the tank plus a $100 stay in a hotel room, and another harrowing afternoon putting the tank back in my car. It was a lot of money and an awful lot of swear words, but I was able to get the tank was back in. While it had been sitting, the brake master cylinder went bad, and the little spider crack in the windshield turned into a big huge crack that practically went across its whole width. I was able to get a new master cylinder online that my mechanic threw in for me. To my utter surprise he was also able to find a brand new windshield at a commercial auto glass outfit. The problem was that they didn't have the gasket. But my mechanic was able to get them to save the old one. Finally, after all this time, I could drive the car regularly, and it was glorious. After all the hassles, disappointment, and bitter regret, the car proved to be a real cream puff. It was absolutely just as smooth as silk. I had forgotten how the Fuego did such a miraculous job of combining smooth ride and nimble handling. In fact I had to keep my eye on the speedometer because I would often get it going a lot faster than I realized. Then one day I was driving it around, and all of a sudden the brake pedal went right to the floor. This made me a little concerned, because the brake master cylinder was brand new. I took it back to my mechanic, who was able to determine that a drum brake shoe had come apart, and what was really going on was that the brakes were totally out of adjustment. He got that all fixed up, but he reported to me that the car was now leaking gas. I was beside myself. I threw some tools and a jack in my car and drove down to his place over a weekend. I jacked the car up, and gasoline just started pouring out. After some diagnostics I was able to determine that fuel hose was cracked right under the clamp at the tank. This is a trivial fix, but the problem was that the hose was entirely inaccessible. The fucking tank had to come out YET AGAIN! This time I brought a friend with me, and while it didn't seem to take any less time, there were a lot fewer swear words. I got it all locked down and drove it up and down the road to test it out. Everything seemed okay. ...more on this developing story as it unfolds... |