Special delivery

I woke up early this morning to the sound of my own doorbell. In my neighborhood, that combination of events can only mean one thing: a package has arrived. And, unless I have a secret admirer, there could only be one thing in that package: a reason to put pants on and run down the stairs before the uniformed man leaves a paper tag on my front door.

Fortunately, this mailman has made deliveries to my house before, so he knows to wait a couple extra minutes whilst I try and remember my own name before I open the door.

Third gear

I fixed the temperature gauge!

I consulted the knowledgeable about the gauge not working. Not only did I find out how to fix it, but I also found out some facts about my Fića that shed more light onto why it wasn't working.

The first thing is that my Fića did not come from the factory with a temperature gauge. As a matter of fact, none of them did until 1978, which was when Zastava first started to equip Fićas with them.

Until then, all Fićas had to make do with just the warning light. The thing is, having only the warning light is about the same as having nothing at all...

Second gear

(Spot the difference.)

After the Fića got back from the mechanic, I resumed my usual schedule of running it every couple of days, to keep the battery full. The first time I did that post-repair, the Fića hesitated to start, made popping noises from its exhaust pipe (don't we all), leaked fluid, produced a coarser engine sound, and promptly stalled the instant it was left to idle on its own (sans foot-to-pedal contact).

And yet, this was all supposed to happen.

Gremlinbusters, part III

(Which one does not belong?)

Sunrise. All is calm in a particular town in BC. The more-than-fashonably late summer season has stuck around for a few days already. Somewhere, in a semi-industrial sector lies a shop, one that specializes in Italian cars. The shop's been there for quite some time, yet there's something there that doesn't fit – something that shouldn't belong, but does anyway.

Gremlinbusters, part II

(When there's a will...)

How do you get a car with no handbrake and brake lights somewhere 50 kilometers away, to get that all fixed?

Some are quite content with taking their chances and driving the car there. The fingers on the hand that doesn't have to do the shifting are crossed – necessary so that the back of the car doesn't meet the gaze of any police officers, and that the route doesn't contain any uphills, despite Google Maps saying otherwise.

Gremlinbusters, part I

(The start of a few days' work.)

The time has come.

Like I mentioned I shall do a few posts ago, I have taken the Fića to a mechanic specializing in Italian cars – his shop being an hour's drive from the Fića's home usual parking space.

A detailed tear-down, diagnosis, and subsequent repair of all faulty areas is going on right now, which will be posted on the blog. Stay tuned.