Engines have to be designed not only to work, but to be fixed when they stop working. But whether through compromises, poor design or just a lack of regard for who the second or third or fourth owners might be, some engines are far more of a pain to wrench on than others.
We can look back on a lot of cars, especially American ones, from the 1990s and wonder about their questionable styling, but they did have one redeeming feature: they’re some of the easiest cars to wrench on today.
When the topic of 1990s Japanese performance cars comes up, we as car enthusiasts tend to beat the proverbial dead horse. We rattle off the Toyota Supra Twin Turbo, Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4, Mazda RX-7, and the Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo. We stake out our brand allegiances, javelin the performance specs, and take magazine…
While we all know that a project car is a source of peace and comfort for many, it can also be a salve for PTSD. Especially if it’s a 1991 Audi Coupe Quattro turned up to 650 horses.
My family and friends don’t understand why I buy rusty, dilapidated vehicles. “Why not purchase something that doesn’t look like it just came out of a junkyard?” they ask. The answer to that question is complex, and requires an examination of what it is that makes a car beautiful.
A lot of people regard Cubans—who have mechanical ingenuity bred from decades in a closed economic system—as the best wrenchers on earth. I think that title belongs to the mechanics of Hong Kong, because they do their wrenching on the streets.
Last month, I visited Hong Kong on a quest to get a taste of the territory’s thriving JDM car culture. In the process, I met Alan Chan, the most badass mechanic I’ve ever met.
Amazon wants to ramp up its car parts business to compete with the big boys like O’Reilly Auto Parts, Autozone, Napa Auto Parts, and Advance Auto Parts, the New York Post reports. Will we all soon be buying even more of our parts from Amazon instead of the box stores?
Getting into your car, turning the key and hearing... nothing is one of the biggest bummers of automobile ownership. Here are some tips on what to do if it happens to you.
The Theseus’ Paradox asks the question: if you’ve replaced every part of something, is that something still fundamentally the same, or has it become a new thing altogether? Let’s talk about how this applies to modified cars.
I’ll be honest: I’m a terrible mechanic. I’ve got a scar on my forearm from the last time I changed the brakes on my Mini. Any repair work I’ve ever done has been a financial decision, not a leisure one. But! Even someone like me, who has the dexterity of a drunken penguin, can do basic motorcycle maintenance.
I know I have a problem; I’ve always known. My brothers, parents, and even readers remind me all the time: “David, you need to stop buying Jeeps. You’re in over your head.” So a few days ago, I took one step to try and deal with my addiction. But now I just feel terrible.
A reader shot me an email earlier this week desperately asking for advice about which tunes to crank whilst wrenching. Not to keep the poor bastard confused and listening to static coming from his garage’s AM radio, I’m here to provide help.
As someone who finds himself covered in automotive filth quite often, I decided to do some research to see just how dangerous all the fluids in my car are—you know, just to have a better idea of how many years I’ve got left to live. My conclusion: probably not many.
I just yanked the engine out of my 1948 Willys CJ-2A; here’s a look at the innards of that old cast iron hulk called the “Go Devil” that powered America’s troops through World War II.
If, for whatever reason, you just sucked down a quart of DOT 3 brake fluid, windshield washer fluid or antifreeze, get your butt to the hospital right away. But if you can’t get to the hospital quickly, it may be time to break out the booze.
I just spent twelve [REDACTED] hours trying to remove my [VERY REDACTED] cylinder head from my [PLEASE MOM DON’T READ THIS] 1948 Willys Jeep engine. And it was a total nightmare.
Orrin Visotto, possibly the angriest man in the gentle nation of Canada, is tired of dealing with his crappy Freightliner truck, so he filmed this rant about how big a piece of garbage his big rig is. And he uses lots of expletives.
It’s already November and my Detroit-based fleet of cars is in disrepair, meaning I’m going to have to engage in a practice only the toughest of souls ever dare to undertake: Michigan outdoor winter wrenching, also known as “frostbite.” That is, unless I can get these things done first.
Tonight, millions of American kids will knock on random strangers’ doors begging for those sweet, tooth-eroding monosaccharides. But none of those children will have the gall to knock on my door, because out in my driveway sit monsters that breath fear into even the bravest of souls: electrical gremlins.