Foreword
Finally getting around to starting a blog after my thread on Pistonheads about going to view it – Click
Anyway
The car is, as the title would suggest, the epitome of automotive reliability. There’s very little that is know to go wrong with them and owners seldom spend more than a handful of halfpennies maintaining them.
Ok, so my homework might have been on the rose-tinted-spectacle side, consisting mainly of reading about our American friends owning 4.2 V8 variants, complete with nobbly tyres, roof mounted light bars and winches. But, nonetheless, I’d wanted one for a while so started looking at the dregs of what Gumtree and Facebook marketplace had to offer.
There were a few requirements.
I wanted the 2.5 V6 TDI engine with 180bhp (only available in Quattro guise) as the 4.2 V8 would, not only, be ruinous on fuel, but are extremely rare in the UK.
It HAD to be a manual.
It needed to be under a grand
I spent a few weeks searching and a few good examples came up, just north of the £1k mark but I wanted to stick to the under £1k rule pretty firmly. Then one popped up on eBay, fairly local – only a 3 hour bus journey, half hour tube and a half hour train ride away in Essex (which is also the homeland of reliable car sales, no?).
To paraphrase my aforementioned linked thread, the description simply read “PX to clear. FSH. Call for more info”. So I did. After 4 attempts, I managed to get a little more than 15 seconds of “I’m out on a job mate I’ll call ya back” in the most stereotypical Essex accent. So, armed with a litany of information, I hop on a train, bus, tube and another train and arrive at my destination to await my knight in shining Allroad.
I had to move the jump starter pack from the passenger seat to get in. Excellent start.
The battery was flat because the driver’s side door only just properly if you’re careful with it. So the interior lights were on all night. Even better start.
Went for a drive and there was an apparent judder when pulling away at low revs.
A list of broken things:
Driver’s door
Ashtray disintegrated when opening it
Drivers side seat recliner handle broke
Display on the radio
Handbrake around your ears
A list of working things:
Engine is sweet as a nut
Air suspension works as it should
Gearbox is tight
Despite the judder, the clutch has a good biting point
No knocks, rattles or bangs
Everything electrical works
So. I bought it.
I brimmed the tank with Tesco’s finest, set the Sat Nav homeward bound and set off.
30 Minutes Later
f
k.
Well it turned out that clutch judder may have been something to be concerned about. The clutch pedal hit the deck and that was that. I limped it a few miles to a local Tesco Extra (knowing it wasn’t going to be a short wait) and awaiting my recovery. After telling the AA on the phone there was likely nothing a patrol could do, not could a patrol tow me on their dolley owing to the Quattro, they duly heeded my advice and sent a local patrol
. Who proceeded to tell me there’s nothing he can do but he might have to tow me on the dolley a certain part of the journey. I gently reminded him that it’s a Quattro (as per the 2039478 badges on the thing) and he ordered a flatbed.
Luckily, I had a single journey from Watford back to South Wales, no relay!
Whilst enjoying my VIP transport, I flicked through the copious amount of Service History in the folder and fag packet maths saw roughly £7k spent on it in the last 10 years, including new suspension air bags all round (Arnott uprated bags too), a recent timing belt kit and a multitude of other repairs.
Anyway, I got it back and the following weekend, got its large arse in the air to take a look. The slave cylinder is easy to see, but you need wrists the size of stick insects cock to reach it. Luckily, mine are much smaller than that. But it was still a ballache.
Here, using 298 extensions, the 5mm hex key is in the bolt holding the slave on. I later removed the heat-shield over the drive shaft gator for more access.
View from the top. You can see the tiny gap you can feel your way into (BAHAH!) and the disconnected clutch line.
Using a mirror to check the clutch fork wasn’t damaged.
Old, destroyed slave cylinder removed. Luckily all held together by its own boot:
Installed the new slave cylinder and pressure bled the system. I’d read that if manually bleeding the clutch on these, the rear needs to be a certain amount of degrees in the air as well as aligning 6th gear with Thatcher’s period cycles on the 4th afternoon of every weekend or some f
king thing. So, glad I had a pressure bleeder. Bled the clutch, hopped in, fired her up, pressed the clutch and … POP… pedal to the floor! f
k! Removed the new slave cylinder and that, too, had imploded. I chalked this up to inexperience and assumed that I’d just misaligned the slave against the clutch fork. So, ordered a new part. Rinsed and repeated and it still wouldn’t disengage the clutch. Persevered a little more, like a child playing with fire who hadn’t quite burnt themselves yet. Sure enough. f
ked another slave cylinder.
It was at this point I threw my proverbial toys directly at the cheap as s
t POS Audi that I’d bought and got it sent to my regular VAG Indie Specialist who dropped the gearbox and revealed the worst possible outcome. The Dual Mass Flywheel (DMF) had failed, which had lunched the release bearing and the clutch itself. There was about 15mm of movement in the DMF moving adjacently to the engine. It was well and truly f
ked. Although it did reveal it was on the original flywheel, clutch and release bearing! 195k miles! That’s not a bad innings.
After I’d stopped crying, I debated just selling the thing on. I wouldn’t have made too much of a loss. But, I hadn’t really given the thing a chance. I could have spend £1500 on one of these, with not too fewer miles and an equally f
ked DMF and clutch. So I bit the bullet, headed over to GSF, 60% discount code in hand and settled on a new LUK DMF and clutch kit for not too bad a price after discount.
A couple of days later, she was back, fighting fit ready to be driven (at least now I could use the £90 worth of fuel that was sat in it!
)
I’d even managed to using it for the reasons I’d bought it for – lugging s
t about
I’d noticed a little squeal coming from the rear brakes. That coupled with a very slack (and useless) handbrake could only mean one thing – the dreaded VAG sticky rear caliper. I haven’t ever owned a VAG car without this happening. Oh wait. I have. The OH Seat Arosa – primarily because it has drums on the rear
.
Anyway, another 60% discount code from GSF and I’d bagged a full set of rear pads for £4
.
The driver’s side caliper looked like it hadn’t long been replaced and the pads had pretty much 85% of life left in them. I replaced them nonetheless.
The passenger side, however!
With liberal applications of my finest white grease over the handbrake lever on the caliper, along with much comedic action of the handbrake from a friend, it had loosened up quite nicely. Still, it’ll be on my list of things to replace in the new year!
So that brings us to today. I have a few jobs to do on it but in the meantime, it’s a very respectable and, dare I say it, reliable (DOOOOOOOOOMED) daily!
I’ll post updates as and when I get around to the fidly jobs. I’ll also get some more pics up soon.
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