I had the carburetor cleaned and checked
with her line blown out she's hummin' like a turbojet
Propped her up in the backyard on concrete blocks
for a new clutch plate and a new set of shocks
Took her down to the carwash
check the plugs and points
I'm goin' out tonight
I'm gonna rock that joint
-- Bruce Springsteen, "Open All Night"
The MINI now is eight and half years old with 67,000 miles on it, and it still hasn't been driven by me in the warm California sun despite our living on the West Coast seven years. We're going to fix that this spring. But first things first.
Before we motor out into the wildness between Oregon and the Bay Area, we took it to our local dealer to have the clutch (which they've been warning us about for couple of years) and few other things looked at. They looked. They said it was time.
It took three days and an American Express card in good standing.
And yes, it was time. Sometimes one wonders if the repair shop actually did any work. Not this round.
Katherine drove the MINI out of the dealer yesterday, and the first few times she shifted the transition slapped me against my headrest. Likewise, when I took it out this morning, I discovered for myself how tight the MINI shifts now. That's a new clutch.
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