I wanted a better picture of his arrival but he caught me off-guard by coming in from a non-standard direction.
I was so ready to be proud at how I'd cleaned and organized the garage, but since it was a ghastly 80F and achingly sunny, Colin preferred that we stay outdoors and work on our melanomas. Ludwig's engine still being in the hands of one Rocky Jennings of Walla Walla, we set to work on Gertrude. There was all that trouble with the fuel hose, and when she finally just wouldn't start a few weeks ago, I assumed it was a fuel starvation issue. Nope. Colin tracked it down in about 40 seconds to poorly adjusted points, and she was running. A diagnostician I ain't.
But she still wasn't running quite right--lots of stumbling at the demand for power; running very rich--so we tore tore tore in and got very intimate with Bosch D-Jetronic fuel injection.
This isn't screwing around, it's how the Bentley says you're supposed to test a manifold pressure sensor for vaccuum. Note my serious face.
There was a lot of multimeter action which I was glad to take part in because we fuelie owners especially need to know how to run these things. At one point Colin said something about his disappointment at having brought zero expertise to the situation. Uh, what? The car runs better than it ever has since we've owned it. Colin left at about 830pm with a word to try a cold start in the morning. If the start was good, he'd be on his way. If it was bad, he'd come back that afternoon.
It was good.
