It still smells like gasoline in here. I hung my shirt up on the railing outside to dry and I took a good shower, but the smell still lingers.
I tried to drive up to Williamsburg, VA, today, to visit Emily, who’s vacationning, visiting some family friends. It was to be the first substantial road trip in the Audi, and I thought I was well-prepared. I packed food, maps, a good assortment of tools, the few spare parts I had lying around (fuel pump and driveshaft support bearing), fluids, paper towels… I was in good shape, and making good time, too. Even the cruise control decided to work for me.
Then I crossed the border into Virginia, and everything started deteriorating. Well, not everything, just the car’s fuel tank. To corral a unavoidably long-winded explanation, the fuel supply line inside the tank was partially clogged. The car started bucking, cutting on and off, when going around the slightest corner and when going over 60 mph or so–but only when the fuel level dropped below about 7/8 tank. But that of course meant that I’d have to top off the car every 30 minutes or so, assuming the problem didn’t get worse. I had had the problem before about 9 months ago, and fixed it then, but it exhibited the exact same symptoms today (as it had been, to a lesser extent, for several weeks before now), so I knew exactly what was wrong.
So…I called Em and limped back home, pausing every 45 minutes or so to top off the tank–the car would definitely let me know when it needed it. I stopped by the auto parts store and bought parts for a solution which I think will work, but it involves JB Weld, which needs 15 hours to fully cure, so I think the trip north is out… It really sucks.
I finally got home, pushed the Supra out of my garage, got the Audi in, up on jackstands, and pulled out the fuel tank (full of fuel, mind you–an interesting experience) in about an hour. I can go into more exhaustive detail about my solution, but I have a feeling nobody really wants to hear about that. But that initial part of the process is the reason for the all-pervasive smell. Not fun. Neither are gasoline burns. Yummy.
Yikes… I feel really bad that you went through all that. I’m really sorry. I hope you get it all figured out. But again, I’m really sorry.
I really wish you could come up, but I understand that it’s just not going to happen. Unless you, like, hijack a someone else’s car or sprint here. I wish I had the navigation skills to drive down there.
I’m sorry too… I’ll give the car an extra kick for both of us.
*le sigh*
Hope you’re having a great day at the beach :)