I stupidly committed to going to a car show this weekend. Now I’m trying to get some projects done on a compressed schedule. I was hoping to bring (and registered) the Jaguar. However it has spent the past couple of years atop my four post lift snugly slumbering. I pulled the M6 out from under it, which was a project in and of itself. Both cars had their batteries out and sitting on tenders. I didn’t want to start either up right now, so I had to push the big coupe out. Initially wasn’t able to move it more than a few centimeters. Aired up the tires, which were all low (~16psi) and it rolled much easier. Reinstalled the battery and checked that the dash lights up.
The three foam pads under the hood/bonnet are very dry and will disintegrate instantly if touched. I have had a new set for a while, and I guess it is time to install them. Should be a quick job, just vacuum off the old ones, remove the left over adhesive underneath and apply the new ones. Amazing how fast the old ones suck right off the underside of the bonnet with the shop vac!
Step one done!
Meanwhile with the Jaguar I remember that I have to replace the carburetor floats. I bought some new ones made out of some high-tech synthetic material from SNG Barrett a few years ago. I go to my stash of Jag parts upstairs and for the life of me cannot find them. I remember exactly where they were in my old shop! Oh well. I will search for them in the morning.
The 65E in a state of disassembly.
In other car news, I helped my little sister sell my mom’s old Benz Wagon on BringATrailer this past week. I had considered buying it from her, but my use would be for a ski and dog shuttle, and this car is just way too nice for that task. My old Subaru is a far better option. Anyway, my pitch to sell it on BAT rather than any other method worked just as I promised my sister; those wagons have a cult following out there and I knew BAT was the place to find them. We experienced the best possible outcome with multiple parties very interested in the car. It is going to its new home soon.
That is, hitting a deer when living in Central Oregon. I have been living here for over fifteen years now and have somehow avoided hitting one, despite probably a thousand close calls. Well, I finally ran out of luck.
Heading into town for an appointment, driving down Northwest Way and this buck came running full speed in front of me. I was maybe three car lengths behind an SUV and two other cars were heading the opposite direction. I never saw the deer as he jumped between the two northbound cars and then right in front of me. I was full on the clutch and brake pedals as fast as I could, but physics won. I hit the buck broadside. His hip hit just above my driver-side headlight, his shoulder hit the grille just inside the headlight on the other side (pushing a bracket into the radiator.) Grille destroyed. Hood buckled. Radiator leaking. Poor buck was in shock. Compound break of his femur. Head injury from hitting the ground (or maybe that mailbox, I’m not sure.) I was fine. I immediately called 911 and asked for the Sheriff to come euthanize the buck. The tailing northbound car stopped, as she saw the whole thing. Checked on me. Within a few minutes another car stopped and asked if I needed a gun. I said I had called the Sheriff but if she had one, it would be helpful. She walked from her truck and handed me a pistol. So within a few minutes of his injury, the buck’s suffering was gone. Lady took back her pistol and drove off. The other lady came and gave me a hug. I needed that. Sheriff showed up about ten minutes later. A while after that Linda came with the truck and a tow strap to get the car home. I didn’t want to drive it due to the coolant leak. Now it’s just insurance and body shop. And time of course. Sort of ruined my day.
Oh, guy in a pickup came by and took the buck home (legal in Oregon.)
Update: Insurance company being difficult, declared the car a total loss, despite the minor damage. ???????
I had to retrieve it from one body shop and bring it to a different one. The car will now have a salvage title, but since I plan to drive it like every other winter beater Subaru I have owned, that is until it mechanically expires. (The last one was hauled the the wrecking yard after a year of ominous knocking coming out of the driver side cylinder bank, at well over 250k miles on the odometer.) This one is just too nice a spec (full leather, manual, wagon, top spec) to let it go due to this level of damage. Hell, I don’t care about the paint, so long as it gets me around in winter until I can’t drive anymore!
I write a lot, in many places. One of which is Quora. Give me a follow there if you’re interested. Anyway, another writer I follow there answered a question about the Epstein Files, stating that he searched for his name there and it came up. Why? Because apparently Epstein was a Quora user and received their daily & weekly digest in his inbox. If your writing has ever been included in their digest, which mine has, it might be included in one of these huge data dumps from the Department of Justice. So, my curiosity piqued, I went to the DOJ Epstein Files website and put in my last name. Being cursed with a unique name is a blessing sometimes, as you can avoid haystacks and needles.
I didn’t find me, but what I did find was quite curious and certainly an clear indication that Trump’s DoJ is trying their best (though with obvious ham-handed tactics and execution) to be very biased and obviously political in their redactions. How? In Epstein’s emails are many more digests of financial, economic, and political newsletters going back decades. I have a distant cousin who is a professor of economics at the University of Chicago and who briefly served on the White House as an economic advisor around 2010-2012. He and I have exchanged a few emails over the years and I even had breakfast with him at the White House in 2010 when I was in northern Virginia for work over a period of many weeks. His name (and mine since we share the “Goolsbee” surname) comes up in Epstein’s email inbox a lot. Not directly, but mentioned in news and commentary about the economy an news out of the White House, in all these email digests that Epstein was subscribed to.
In those digests I noted hundreds of redactions which were very easy to understand in the context of the subject matter of the article. “GOP” “Republican” and names of Republican senators and representatives. No redactions of similar names and positions from the Democratic Party. Worst of all, I have found the word “Don’t” redacted in multiple places, which makes zero sense, until you realize that the text string is “Don T” (in other words “DON(ald) T(rump)”
When viewed in a completely unrelated to the whole Epstein/Pedophilia context, these seemingly random redactions of words become very clearly intended to cover up anything related to our President and anyone close to him having anything to do with Epstein.
Bondi and Patel are party to a wholly partisan, complete coverup of a conspiracy of sex traffickers, foreign intelligence operatives, and blackmail. They clearly want to pin it on their political opponents while hiding their own political masters. It’s right there, a searchable using my last name. Go have a look for yourself.
The local electrical Co-Op is doing scheduled maintenance on the substation that serves our little town just west of the middle of nowhere. Our power will go off at midnight and be back on by 4 am on October 16. Of course, I am two states away for a work trip, and I bet my little UPS won’t handle this well. Who knows how long it will be down because I am away for two weeks!
If it is back up again that’s because I successfully talked my “remote hands” (aka Dr Goolsbee, the amazing Veterinarian, but definitely not techie person) through the process. If not, then you can’t read this.
Back in June of 2000, I joined my father in his then new-to-him Jaguar XK 120 for an absolutely looney car rally called the La Carrera Nevada. The year before we had driven through Nevada on the Cannonball Classic in the E-Type. Our minds were blown on US 50, as it traversed Utah and Nevada. I became enamored with the Basin & Range country and the delightful driving to be found there. Now, twenty three years later, I am living at the far northern edge of The Great Basin and take opportunities to explore it by car whenever possible.
There is an event I like to attend in Las Vegas every June and half of its appeal to me is the chance to explore new roads in this great American outback of the basin & range country.
I had hoped to once again traverse Nevada, but this time west-to-east on US 50, and then turn south on Nevada Highway 318 (Home of the Silver State Challenge) down to Vegas. 318 is a road I have never driven, especially the section where they run the SSC.
Well, fate intervened and as I was leaving Fallon east on 50 my TPMS light on the dashboard of my 2007 M Roadster lit up. Just a week and a half ago I had finally replaced the long-dead TPMS sensors in the car and now for the third time in three days the idiot lamp had lit. The passenger side rear tire had been losing pressure ever so slowly and I would just stop and add ~5-10PSI and keep driving. But now, my brain and the light told me “get this checked you idiot. You are about to head into a vast blank spot on the map filled with empty roads and sparse cell phone coverage!”
I hung a U-turn and backtracked through the town and went to a Les Schwab tire store. They diagnosed it as a leaking valve stem. Sadly, the delay was enough to put the kibosh on my Highway 318 dreams, as I was expected at a dinner in Vegas at 8:30 pm and it was almost noon. The margin was just too thin.
If I just went south on US 95 I would be in Vegas in around five hours, but I just couldn’t bear to do that. 95 is the main route between Nevada’s two population poles of Reno and Las Vegas. It is choked with truck traffic and of course I had driven it before. I’m here to explore.
I know that if I go east on US 50 there are several possibilities of highways heading south that will get me there with some wide open horizons. I have driven several, but there may be one or two new ones. Sure enough I see Nevada 361 and check my memory about if I have driven it before. I can’t recall if I have, but it seems like a good option, so off I go.
At first the asphalt is smooth as silk, clearly repaved within the past few years. I think I see maybe four or five other vehicles. Nice road to open the taps and let the S54 pull like it was born to do. Well, at least until I get about halfway, and the road surface gets as rough as a fifteen year old boys’ pimply face. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. And then 361 ended at US 95. I resigned myself to just loping along with the traffic on 95 from here to Vegas.
One moment of amusement happens along here. There is a long line of traffic with a slow truck at the head of it. At an opportunity where I can see for miles, and a break in oncoming traffic coincides, I drop down three gears and pull a long pass. A distance behind the slow truck is a Ford Explorer in dull grey, and sporting those swivel-spotlights on it’s A-pillars that scream “COP CAR” to everyone – except me. Why? The Ford has Oregon plates, but they are just regular civilian plates, not the orange ones they put on actual state fleet vehicles. I pass it, chuckling, and have to pull in between this fake cop and the slow truck several car-lengths ahead of it as oncoming traffic has returned. Laughing to myself as I pass the truck finally I vanish over the horizon amused at the dozen vehicles stacked up behind that Ford for the next 250 miles.
Serendipity
Continuing down US95, I resign myself to just riding the cruise control to Vegas, when my phone, who I swear now reads my mind says “this alternate route will only add 16 minutes”
I look and it is a string of small Nevada, and California highways that loop south and west in opposition to 95’s east and south route. I click it, and follow these roads. They are amazing. Utterly empty and with a stunning view of a snow covered mountain range that runs along the border, but mostly in California. At the apex, it runs through an agricultural valley, but the first and third thirds are delightful rolling hills. It is a wonderful alternative to the US95 slog. Despite Siri assuming it will add time, it actually ends up saving me quite a lot of time. Near zero traffic, I just fly along with my thoughts, once again experiencing the open roads that my father and I loved so much back in 1999/2000. It is appropriate to think of those great days with my father as it was five years ago today when he died. I was with him then, and I was with him again on these roads.
Rejoining US95 I again have to deal with other vehicles sharing the road with me. Oh well. I make it to Beatty, Nevada, which is a speed trap disguised as a town. I stop at a gas station to fill up the car, have a potty break, and refill my cooler with cold caffeinated drinks. As I’m doing this, the town cop issues at least three tickets, and has yet another pulled over as I leave the town. In Beatty, 25MPH means 25MPH.
Not long after leaving Beatty, I once again pass that Oregon Ford Phoney Cop car. It must have passed me while I was filling up with gasoline. Yep Siri, I gained sixteen minutes!
The rest of the run to Vegas is uneventful, beyond one wild donkey who crossed the highway in front of me. I even pick up a “rabbit” in the form of a Mazda minivan and a Toyota Camry who want to use the long divided section of 95 to travel at autobahn pace into the city. I let them pass and then pace them, but we’ll behind, to let my Valentine1 warn me if they get painted with radar. I pull into my hotel with almost two hours to spare before the event kickoff dinner. Time enough for a quick nap, and dreams about Highway 318 on the return voyage.
I’m preparing for a road trip in a few weeks in the E85M, and addressing some issues that have accumulated over the past few years. One is that my washer fluid reservoir leaks. If I fill it up it will be empty in about a day. This prompts one of those annoying yellow lights right between the two big gauges on the dash. (The other light is right next to it, the TPMS system. I know the problem there… all my wheels are as old as the car, which was built in late 2006, so their batteries are dead. I’ve sent one set of wheels to my local tire shop for new shoes and new TPMS sensors. I could rant about how TPMS creates as many problems as it solves, much like OOB/Out of Band management infrastructure for remote server management… but I’ll spare you. )
Last year I replaced all the grommet-seals around where the pumps for the windscreen and headlight washers attach to the reservoir. I figured if there was a leak, it would be the most likely cause. Fifteen+ year old rubber, living in a dry environment, etc. Nope. It is the reservoir itself. My favorite BMW parts supplier has always been Bavarian Autoworks, but they suddenly went TANGO UNIFORM a few years back. Of course I had a shelf full of cores to return to them for credit. Shrug.
So now I buy from a range of suppliers, including the company that bought up the remains of BavAuto and another one that is named after an ugly seabird. The latter primarily serves P-car people, but they are on the west coast and usually ship to me very quickly. So I went on their website, plugged in my car, and searched for “washer fluid reservoir” and they presented two options. One said only for early 2006 cars with no headlight washers. The other didn’t say anything about restrictions like that so I assumed it was the right choice. Some USPS shenanigans later and some time away from home, I finally got to shop to install the new part. Wrestle the old one out, which is tougher than it sounds because all the things that plug into it (two washer pumps and a level sensor at the bottom that is attached by a VERY short wire) are hidden underneath the rather large reservoir.
Finally freed from the car I grab the replacement and look at it and note the difference shown in the photograph. There is no place to put the washer pump for the headlights. I call the vendor and talk to customer service about returning it. They say “just go on the website and order a new one, then fill out an RMA form.”
Okay, go to the website and look at the two reservoirs they list for my car and one says “Not for cars with headlight cleaning” and THE ONE THAT I HAVE IN MY HAND, which also doesn’t work with headlight cleaning.
Okay, now I’m confused. So I call them back, and instead of navigating the phone tree to customer service, I head for the “BMW parts specialists”. A guy named “Gene” gets on the call with me and we spend some time together figuring out the situation. I tell him how I got here and he agrees that something is wrong. We use my car’s VIN to search for the part and he sees the same thing I do. I tell him the part number of the leaking reservoir that came out of my car, and he says they have it, but not showing that it fits in my car. Sure enough, I search by part number and thar she blows…
Fits a lot of 3 series cars, including the contemporary M3.
So my car is an odd mashup of the E85 Z4 and the E46 M3. Basically the running gear and suspension of the latter (S54, 6-speed manual, clutch, brakes, EMS, and suspension) of the M3 squeezed into the smaller, lighter chassis of the Z4. It’s a wonderful machine taking the best aspects of each parent and making a badass little sports car.
Gene agrees with me that the error is on their side, and sends me the right part with expedited shipping and agrees to hand me off to customer service for arranging the RMA of the incorrect part. So, problem (likely) solved. Hopefully I get it here and installed before my road trip.
Spent the day working on Testa Rossa’s truck. While at the coast for the holiday, the brake pedal went to the floor. Noted that the driver’s side front had brake fluid all over the wheel well, and the fluid reservoir was low. I was able to borrow a car and find some brake fluid. Topped it off and on Saturday morning gingerly made our way to Tillamook, and it’s Les Schwab. As we are sitting in the Schwab waiting room I note that a winter storm is heading for the Cascades on Sunday. They verified that it was a leaking brake line. No replacement part anywhere nearby. I called the Napa parts store I use in Redmond and they had one. I had them hold it for me. I buy a gallon of DOT4 and steel myself to drive back over the mountains while the sun still shines. It was… interesting to say the least, driving some twisting mountain roads through the Coast and Cascades, with a bonus of downtown Salem and it’s stoplights – ALL WITH AVOIDING THE BRAKE PEDAL. The truck has a 6 speed automatic with a manual shift option, which I made liberal use of along the way. Managed to make it home with only losing about 30cc’s of fluid!
Slept like a log for nine hours after the mental strain of that drive!
Put the truck on jackstands this morning and swapped out the broken brake line. Did an oil change while I was at it. All good now. Feeling accomplished.
