As I had mentioned near the end of The Cars of My Father, after suffering through five years with their 1978 Plymouth Horizon, my parents felt that it was time to seek greener pastures. Not surprisingly, GM, Ford and Chrysler were not on their short list of potential replacements.
Having grown to appreciate the efficient, and, to some, stylish hatchback body style, they were looking for another in that same vein. The only other car I recall my parents looking at was the Toyota Tercel, which was all new that year with a previously unavailable five-door version. Dad said it was loaded (for a Tercel) with alloy wheels and rear louvers, and of course, priced accordingly. Besides the price, his biggest problem with the car was that, even though it was a manual, 2nd gear was a huge jump from 1st. This caused the car to bog down unless you wound it out in 1st. The front-drive Corolla was still a year away, and Honda didn’t offer this body style on US-bound Civics. The Rabbit was either still too expensive, or he had heard that it offered no better quality than the Horizon.
There’s never been a CC on this generation Tercel. Someone should rectify that.
He may have already known about it, or had heard it from me, but the new Nissan Pulsar five door fit the bill quite nicely.
1983 Nissan Pulsar photo cribbed from CC
As soon as we drove onto the lot, however, my parents saw this Sentra sitting right out in front and were smitten. Believe it or not, I still tried to steer them to the Pulsar, since I really didn’t like the Sentra Coupe. I was a big fan of the Datsun 210 hatchback and its straight lines, and I didn’t like the roundness of the Sentra. Fortunately, they didn’t listen to me, and I quickly realized that the Sentra was quite a handsome car.
Notice the straight lines on this 1981 Datsun 210 as opposed to the rounded Sentra.
The Sentra, which was new for 1982 along with the Stanza, were the first Nissan branded cars sold in the US. As was noted in previous posts both “Nissan” and “Datsun” badges were placed on the cars to avoid confusion. Right.
I’m guessing that most of the people reading this post have never seen this body style or knew it existed. That’s because this car was manufactured back in the days when you had a choice of body styles if you liked a particular model. The B11 Sentra was available as a 2-door sedan, 4-door sedan, 4-door wagon and sporty 2-door coupe (hatchback). For 1982 and 1983, only the coupe was available in fancy XE trim. So, our car represented the top-line model of the range. For 1984, the XE trim spread to the rest of the line, and the coupe got a new SE trim the following year. The B12 range, introduced for 1987, actually added a 2-door hatchback (picture the 2-door sedan with the trunk cut off), but when the B13 came out for 1991, it was down to just a 2-door and 4-door sedan. The 1995 B14 Sentra was a 4-door sedan only, and that’s how it’s been ever since. The 1980-84 Corolla came in even more body styles than the Sentra. I think that’s what I miss most about “the old days.”
I just love the raised white-letter tires!
We were fortunate that we were shopping in 1983 and not a year earlier, as the engine received a minor bump from 1.5 liters and 65 horsepower to 1.6 liters and 69 horsepower. It may not sound like much, but when you’re down this low, every little bit helps. The XE also came with larger 175/70 R13 tires, while lower-end models made do with 155/80s. Neither power nor handling were all that great, but the ride was decent, and we had no trouble keeping up with traffic on the smooth, flat South Florida roads. My friend Alan had an ’85 XE sedan with the 3-speed automatic, and he had to keep it floored most of the time or other drivers would honk at him for going too slow (impressive in a community filled with senior citizens). I am glad that the days of cars with 0-60 times in the mid- to upper-teens or higher are long gone. Gas mileage, of course, was excellent: 39 city/50 highway by 1983 EPA estimates.
What really impressed us about the car were the sheer number of standard features, most of which were optional or not even available on the domestic competition like the Ford Escort or Chevrolet Chevette (I consider the Cavalier one class up). Power brakes were standard on the entire lineup, but were still optional for most everything else in this class. Our Sentra also came with variable ratio power steering while the domestics were still using full power steering that yielded absolutely no road feel. Other niceties included an AM/FM Stereo, dual remote outside mirrors, variable-speed intermittent wipers, remote hatch and fuel-filler door release (a rarity in this class), rear-window defogger and wiper, back-lit sport instrumentation with tachometer, a lovely door-open chime instead of an annoying buzzer, and two trick levers in the center console to control the rear vent windows. This was all in a car that retailed for $6,899 plus air conditioning. Our Horizon, despite being an up-level model, only had air conditioning and the defogger, though many of these items were optional if my parents had checked the right boxes on the order form.
Though the Omni had four doors, the Sentra became our family car for the next year, not only because it was new, but there was a better chance that we’d get to our destination and back home again without a break down. That was fine, as there was plenty of room in the back seat for my sister and me, and the soft gray cloth upholstery was very comfortable.
Three years and 50,000 trouble-free miles later, Dad offered me the keys since he and my mother didn’t need two cars (see my last COAL). Shortly thereafter, he went back to working outside the home. Since my mother didn’t really like to drive, it was easier for her to continue letting me use the Sentra. Of course, even though I was paying for gas, repairs and insurance, I was still at her beck and call since I was driving her car. Surprisingly, we would continue this arrangement for almost eight years (what was I thinking?!?).
I was thrilled to just not be driving the Zephyr anymore. Dad taught me to drive on this car, so I was very comfortable behind the wheel. The only thing I really didn’t like was the angle of the steering wheel, which was more bus than sports car. Nissan added an adjustable column the following year, which helped me not one bit. Another minor gripe: The transmission in the Sentra is not very forgiving. Even someone who can’t drive a stick can be an expert on a Honda in a few hours, but you have to have a lot of practice (and patience) to launch and shift a Sentra smoothly, and even then you’ll still occasionally grind the gears shifting into 2nd or 3rd. It’s not as bad as an ’80s Chrysler, but leagues away from Honda. Funny story: I once went to visit my cousins in Long Island and, for a week, drove my Aunt’s ’84 Plymouth Voyager with a 5-speed manual and a clutch that could be used for physical therapy. You know how your leg adapts to a clutch? When I came home, I thought the clutch cable had snapped in the Sentra because it was so light by comparison. I seriously couldn’t drive the thing for the first few minutes.
Only the XE had two-tone bumpers
As the car was now older, I would not enjoy the same trouble-free experience that my father had. There was a little grill at the top of the dashboard, which I believe was for the lesser models with the AM/FM radio (not stereo), that cracked like they did in all B11 Sentras. The seat cloth was comfortable, but not especially durable. A couple of nice, thick seat covers fixed that problem. CV-joint replacement seemed to be a regular occurrence. One time, after having some work done on the front brakes, the mechanic mentioned the CV-joint boot was ripped and I should look at getting it replaced soon. I thanked him and left, but after making a right-turn out of the shop, I felt/heard thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. I immediately brought the car back to the shop, and the mechanic mentioned again the ripped boot and swore he didn’t do anything else that could have caused this condition that the car didn’t demonstrate before I brought it into his shop. How many times have you heard that one? Having no mechanical ability to disprove his claim, I was somewhat powerless. However, Dad brought the car back to him the next day and, after pointing out that since the guy had the car on the lift with the wheel and brake off when he saw the torn boot, he should have called and given us the option to replace the part. He agreed to perform the repair for the cost of the part only.
Some issues were the result of the fact that a teenager was driving the car. One day when leaving work, I was in the lane to go straight, but decided to make a left turn instead. Simultaneously, my friend Todd, who didn’t feel like waiting, decided to jump the line and shot through the left-turn lane to continue straight. You can say we met in the middle. The front marker light was smashed, and the surrounding area on the fender was crumpled. Dad and I pounded out the crumpled area as much as we could and replaced the marker lamp. Todd was driving a beater and really didn’t notice any new damage to his car.
The major issue – and the one that would ultimately do the car in – was that the shifter appeared off. When I was in 1st, 3rd & 5th, it appeared to still be in the middle, while 2nd, 4th & reverse were way back further than I remembered. Over at my buddy Mitch’s house, he slid under the car to see what was going on. He came back out, grabbed a jack, went back under the car and told me to see if the shifter looked OK now. It did. Apparently, several of the bolts connecting the transmission to the engine had corroded and snapped, and it was currently hanging by one bolt. He had to jack it up to get it to sit correctly.
The job was a little more involved than just inserting new bolts, and I spent $700 to get it fixed. Unfortunately, the damage was done. Less than a year later, at about 90,000 miles and after three years of driving the car (and still on the original clutch, I’m proud to say), Dad needed the car to run an errand and when he came back asked me about the gear whine. Gear whine? The noise had come on so gradually, that I hadn’t noticed it until I took a spin in the car with him, and he pointed it out. And, yes, there was a gear whine. A loud one. We took it back to the shop that had replaced the bolts, and the mechanic quoted us $1,000 for the repair. At this point, that was more than the car was worth, and Dad told me to start looking for a new car. OK!
another great morning coffee read, as rlplaut is fond of saying (as I sit here with my steaming coffee).
Your friend is right about the automatic equipped Sentras: My grandfather had a Sentra of about this vintage with the 3-speed automatic, and it was easily one of the slowest cars I’ve ever driven in my life, to the point of almost being dangerous.
One of the best parts of being retired (and there are a lot although being statistically closer to death is not one of them) is to read CC at 6:00 AM (I’m an early riser) with my steaming cup of coffee near my right hand as I hear my neighbors starting their cars and – lately – scraping the ice off their windshields as they get ready for another commute and work day.
With regards to entry level Nissans, I once got a Datsun B210 with automatic as a loaner when my ’78 280Z was in for service. All I can re call is how noisy it was and how it felt like it could tip over if I turned it too quickly. It was like riding inside an empty oil drum.
Non Sequitur Alert – Any one see that 1971 240Z that went for over $300,000 on BaT? I loved my Z but good grief – insanity reigns.
https://bringatrailer.com/listing/1971-datsun-240z-124/
It just takes two people with lots of money….
And I recall when Nissan was doing their Z-heritage 240Z rebuilding thing a decade or so (or was it two?) ago they eventually stopped it after finding the demand too low. In hindsight as with all things that was a bargain.
I have two dogs that like to get up early, so I’ve learned to be an early riser (a job aided immeasurably by steaming hot cup of coffee ☕️).
BTW, I like having the 4:00 AM news drop: Kind of like having a morning newspaper, and a little extra to read first thing. Ed is doing a fantastic job with these.
Once that CV boot was ripped, the damage to the joint was done. Boot failure was pretty common back then and most techs would be checking boots during routine maintenance for the tell tail cracking in the rubber prior to complete failure . Not sure how much overlap in labor on replacing the axle with a brake job, but it would have been wise to have possibly given you a heads up while the car was still in the shop. Now it’s a logistical problem, were you waiting in the shop at the time? Remember this was way back in the pre cell phone days. Most techs work under flat rate, not hourly time. If you weren’t available, consider the fact that time is money, and without a way to get in touch with you immediately, that tech is losing money with a car sitting on his lift that is in “pause” mode.
I wasn’t in the shop, but I was at home, so he could have reached me if he tried. The main point is that the car was exhibiting behavior leaving the shop that it didn’t exhibit when I brought it in. Also, he owned the shop, so his income wasn’t controlled by anyone else.
How could he have suddenly made the CV joint go bad? A cut or rip in the rubber boot isn’t going to make it suddenly do that. I’ve seen ripped boots go for long times before the joint goes bad. He would have had to swap in a bad CV joint, which makes no sense. I don’t see how a brake job would affect it, unless in replacing the rotors (if he did so) the work might have pushed the joint over the edge if it was near failure already.
I’m not trying to take sides here. And yes, the shop should have called. But a cut boot does not equal a bad CV joint.
Maybe the turn out of the shop was a lot tighter than the turns you usually made? Given the info you’ve given, it’s a bit of a mystery to me.
Well, Paul, you have a small, independent mechanic in South Florida. What do you think really happened here? In the absence of foul play, what could have happened? And it wasn’t the click, click, click that I was used to hearing when the CV joints went bad (not that the car was making any noise when I brought it in). This was an almost debilitating THUNK, THUNK THUNK that made me afraid to drive the thing.
What do you think really happened here?
I truly don’t know, as I already said. I’m not a mechanic; maybe one of them will chime in.
What you’re insinuating is that he damaged the CV joint, or put in a bad CV joint (cutting the boot does not damage the joint in the short term). That’s certainly possible. If it were easy to damage it, that’s a real possibility. Putting in a bad joint doesn’t make much sense. I would think there’s easier ways to generate additional repair work than that.
I can certainly understand why you came the conclusion you did. I’m just a bit mystified how exactly he did it, if that’s what he did. But what do I know about screwing customers? Maybe there’s an easy way to quickly damage a CV joint.
That’s the problem – I’m not a mechanic either. It’s hard not to be suspicious when you leave a repair shop with a new problem, and we had our share of problems with mechanics. It may have not even been the CV joint, since I’ve never before nor after experienced the THUNK, THUNK, THUNK sensation when turning, only the click, click, click of the typically bad CV joint. But it was scary and I was pissed, which is why it’s stuck with me for so long.
Yes it would be unlikely that it went to a serious thunk without the common clicking happening at least for a while. However it is even less likely that he sabotaged your car in hope for additional profit. I just don’t see how he could have damaged it to that point w/o putting in a ton of effort. You don’t spend half an hour screwing something up in hopes of selling a hour of labor.
If he was really trying to screw you he would have called and tried to get the job w/o spending any extra effort, not sabotage it, put it back together and send you down the road with a note that the boot is torn.
Fact is in that era there was so much more business, you had regular customers because cars needed tune ups, valve adjustments every year or two, timing belts, exhaust systems, CV shafts, clutches and more clutches, head gaskets, engine replacements. Seriously a small shop that treated customers right was almost a license to print money as there was so much business to be had.
Yes, there are always people who will try to rip off others so that is a possibility.
However, Dad brought the car back to him the next day and, after pointing out that since the guy had the car on the lift with the wheel and brake off when he saw the torn boot, he should have called and given us the option to replace the part. He agreed to perform the repair for the cost of the part only.
Given that the shop owner readily refunded the labor cost, doesn’t that rather show he wasn’t trying to rip you off. Or? How would the actual mechanic have benefited in any case? Sounds like maybe the owner made him do the repair for free (no labor charge).
I’m not trying to pick an ancient scab here, but given the evidence, I’d say it was more likely a somewhat odd and unfortunate but legitimate coincidence.
But it’s going to be impossible to come up with an iron clad conclusion. I’ve heard of stranger things happening.
”I’m not trying to pick an ancient scab here, but given the evidence, I’d say it was more likely a somewhat odd and unfortunate but legitimate coincidence.“
I’m thinking it may have had something to do with putting the car on a lift. The suspension would have gone to full drop and put the CV joint into an extreme angle. If the boot was deteriorated it could have torn at that time, or if it was already torn it could have worked dirt into places it hadn’t been.
…or, the mechanic backed down when faced with a 58-year-old rather than a 18-year-old, and he was the owner, so who knew whether or not he actually charged us for just labor. However, you guys make excellent points as well, and let’s hope that it really was just an unfortunate coincidence. Both Dad and I have had too many “coincidences” happen with independent mechanics – some more blatant than others – that I will forever be permanently jaded. I know most people have had very good experiences, but I, unfortunately, have not.
Sailor Harry; that’s exactly the kind of explanation I was hoping someone would provide. It sounds extremely plausible.
The clunk clunk you heard was likely the Rzeppa type joint (outboard) “slipping” across the balls while under the stress of turning. This wiki link has a pretty good animation of the Rzeppa style joint:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constant-velocity_joint
The split boot would have immediately allowed dirt and grit into the joint, and these typically split boots on the outer joint as the amount of flex required by the outer joint is much greater than the inner. The damage is essentially done at that point, if any significant mileage is encountered. Also, a significant amount of joint grease is centrifugally tossed out as well, further compromising the joint. The fact that the joint started making noise indicates to me that the boot was likely split for a while, and grease accumulation in orbit around its rotation would have confirmed that. Now, the shop owner ultimately did the right thing in this instance. I’m not familiar with the rotor/hub setup on these, Honda’s of that vintage had rotors that were pressed on, brake service required an on the car lathe and a brake job wouldn’t be putting any undue stress on the drive axle. I don’t think the brake job was the cause here, my opinion obviously, I’d chalk it up to an unfortunate coincidence. Definitely a phone call would have been a good idea to provide a heads up. The typical rubber boots back then didn’t have exceptionally long lifespans, and I recall always inspecting boots for tell tale cracking.
“…if any significant mileage is encountered.”
That says to me that when the boot split, I should have at least started hearing the typical click, click, click at least some point before pulling into the shop. I was always sensitive to that noise, and had it repaired immediately (though grudgingly). How could I have gone from no noise, all they way to THUNK, THUNK, THUNK, which I never experienced before or after (see my comment above), with no additional miles? Is that even something that happens with bad CV Joints? I appreciate your expertise on the subject.
I’d have a hard time saying anything the mechanic did during the break job caused the clunk noise you’d heard. I honestly believe it was an unfortunate coincidence. Even allowing for the suspension to be at full drop while on the lift, you’re not rotating the axle or subjecting the joint to anywhere near to the forces involved during acceleration from a stop while turning. Way back in the early 80s, FWD was fairly new in terms of widespread adoption. The remanufactured axles, commonplace today, weren’t the rule back then. Most axles were rebuilt in the shop when a joint failed, and there was always a risk/reward proposition when deciding to simply replace a boot, vs replacing a joint and boot. That would involve a clear conversation with a customer of what that entailed.
These were rather rare, however I’ve actually driven one a few times – a college roommate had one for a month or so while his RX-7 was being fixed for some reason or another and let me borrow it twice to take someone on a date as my motorcycle at the time wasn’t really appropriate for that. I remember thinking that it was a different shape than most Sentras but seemed a decent car. It was a metallic brown color and that’s the only other thing I recall from it, no idea if it was a stick or auto anymore…The second date turned out to be the last date of that series too. I don’t think the car was to blame. 🙂
“… Not surprisingly, GM, Ford and Chrysler were not on their short list of potential replacements…”
That’s pretty much the story of our life times and the gist of probably many thousands of MBA studies and theses.
I even dared to go back to USA (and VW) branded vehicles after a hiatus owning a few Japanese brands, While better than they used to be, they are still not as trouble free as Japanese branded vehicles, so lesson learned – twice. The only USA vehicle I would currently consider would be a Tesla.
Why? I recently replaced a bunch of 35 year old bathroom and shower recessed lights with retro-fit LED replacements. It was so inexpensive, so easy, and such an improvement in operation and appearance, this self described curmudgeon has to admit that some of the new fangled ideas are pretty neat.
Besides, if someone wants me to drive them a long distance, I could say no claiming range anxiety.
To me, that’s an advantage.
Slight diversion occasioned by mention of recessed lighting: For new installs, are recessed lighting cans anything but obsolete, now? Their only real reason for existing was the depth of incandescent light bulbs and sockets. With LED panels, that need, and the requirement for isolation if going into an Insulated space, are obviated. A shallow housing with J-box that can be mounted on the housing or, with an umbilical, on a joist, is far easier to install and supportable on even lightweight ceiling materials as long as they are sufficiently stiff. Most are also made to be airtight and mousture-resistant: no thermal losses through warm air flowing through into an unheated space, and usable inside showers.
There are three ways you can go with recessed LED downlights:
1) Standard recessed cans (with different types for new construction/new ceiling and retrofit) with trim kits (i.e. step baffle or parabolic reflector) and reflector bulbs (floodlamp or spotlamp). This is the same hardware long used for incandescent or halogen bulbs.
2) Standard recessed cans, but with a single-piece integrated LED lamp and trim kit rather than a reflector bulb and separate trim kit.
3) A single-piece LED lamp with integrated trim bezel that either attaches to a standard electrical junction box or simply is placed in a hole cut into the ceiling drywall.
#3 is a cost saver and sometimes a time saver, and allows you to position something that looks like a recessed light even if there’s a joist above it or otherwise inadequate depth for traditional recessed cans. Despite this advantage, I still prefer to use #1 standard recessed cans in most applications. The reason include a vastly larger selection of both bulbs and trim kits, as well as better glare control from actually recessing the bulb. Using separate reflector bulbs allows for selection of warm, neutral, or cool/daylight whites, beam spreads from narrow spot to wide flood, specialty trims like grilles or fresnel lenses, tilted directional bulbs to light up walls, and more. For example the recessed lights in my living room (pic below) use wide-flood Soraa bulbs that give off exceptionally high quality light that makes colors look vibrant and whites snow-white, yet doesn’t glare in your eyes when you look up. Canless LED modules can’t do that because the lamps are by necessity almost flush-mount and can’t be recessed a few inches. I also like the wide choice of trim kits, using a black step baffle here to further reduce glare. Nonetheless, canless LED modules are good choices where light quality isn’t crucial and space and cost considerations are most important.
I brought in an ’86 Celebrity for a front wheel bearing change and an alignment. After I picked it up, the mechanic, who, incidentally, lived in an old schoolbus, somehow sliced open the CV boot.
I also noticed that he didn’t align the vehicle.
When I brought the vehicle back and spoke to the manager, he called the mechanic in. He defended himself by saying that “I didn’t specify a camber alignment, just a toe”. I refused to accept his explanation that the CV boot was already ripped, and the shop aligned the vehicle and fixed the boot free of charge.
The next week, I noticed that the wheel bearing was again making noise. I don’t think the guy replaced it at all. He just greased it up and hoped I’d go away.
Still shaking my head over that experience.
* After I picked it up, I noticed that the mechanic had sliced open the CV boot.
All you can do is spend the rest of your life bad-mouthing them to everyone you can. I’ve not yet been screwed that bad by a shop, but one tried hard to.
(–cough, cough, Paul Heuring Ford in 2006. cough, cough–)
In many cars there was only provision for toe adjustment. Supposedly. On the 1986 to 2007 Ford Taurus, there was said to be no camber or caster adjustment, but the spotwelds at the top of the strut towers could be drilled or ground off, permitting adjustment by the loosening of upper strut bolts. Retorquing them was sufficient, no welds necessary. On some other cars, longer lower strut bolts and could be used with shims, and/or smaller-diameter Grade 8 aircraft bolts which were torqued higher. These were often found in Technical Service Bulletins, not even in factory shop mauals.
I had a Sentra sedan for a few months as a long-term rental as a temporary company car. It was an automatic. My commute was from just south of Beverly Hills to Burbank. I took Coldwater Canyon, a very steep and tightly twisting road over the mountains, crossing Mulholland Drive at the top.
Although a stick would have been much preferable, I just kept my foot in it, and it scooted along not too badly. I endlessly hear about how slow these small cars were with automatics, like your friend who claimed he couldn’t keep up with traffic on the freeway in his. The problem is simply to press the accelerator harder. I realize folks used to driving big American cars with their lazy big engines that require just a bit of gas to scoot away from stops are going to have some issues adjusting to that. But that’s all it takes.
Stephanie had two Honda Civics in this era, wagons both with automatics, and I used to amuse myself plenty with them on the back roads and Mulholand Drive and such. I just had my shoemaker put some lead in my soles. 🙂
And the fact is traffic was full of similarly slow cars, so every one was in the same, slow, boat.
We read the other day about the odd steering-wheel angle on the Issigonis-designed British “Land Crab” line. Here it is again, mentioned by Adam in reference to a relatively conventional Japanese model—surely in a more nuanced form. My experience with a forward-tilted wheel came with the Fiat 124 Sport Spider, and it taught me something: there is a good physiological reason for that angle. Steering with a vertical wheel involves lifting one’s arm to effect a movement of the wheel, while with the forward-tilted one the motion is extension of the arm—pushing, rather than lifting. Which movement is easier for you to accomplish ?
As always at CC, the discussion of a vehicle is wide-ranging, with delightful results. Just thought I’d spread the joy a little further with this tangential remark . . .
True, Stephen. However, which angle allows you to accomplish that cool “right arm draped over the top of the wheel, left elbow on the window sill” look? :-).
Good old “CV joint service” it used to be a very profitable thing that has all but gone away like muffler replacement.
The boots on the early Japanese cars were crap and it was not unusual to see them fail in as little as 60k miles. If you got lucky and caught it soon after it happened you could just replace the boot which would run you $20-40 at the dealer, the only source. If the joint was bad you were looking at another $100-$150, while a complete shaft could top $300 easily. At the wrecking yard they would sell the complete shaft for $150 as soon as they came in for most models.
Then someone started re-manufacturing them and for $200 you got a shaft with new boots and possibly a new joint as well as a fresh coat of paint and a new nut that would have been extra at the dealer. As with any enterprise with a high profit margin there were quickly many competitors that drove down prices significantly. It bottomed out at ~$70 for most common applications and the popular numbers were on the shelf at most parts stores.
By that point the mfgs had figured out the right rubber and boot design that they now usually last the, much longer, life of the car. So that business went away almost as quickly as it appeared and you won’t find 20-30 shafts in stock at your FLAPS.
So no the mechanic didn’t sabotage your car. Also about the only thing that doing it would have been saved by doing it when the brakes were done is lifting the car and removing the wheel.
The 5sp transmission in the Sentra and Pulsar were also very profitable as that whine was common and it progressed to a failed transmission. For a while it was one of the hottest items at the places that sold the “low mile” imported from japan engines and transmissions.
“The 5sp transmission in the Sentra and Pulsar were also very profitable as that whine was common and it progressed to a failed transmission.”
Thanks Scoutdude! I had no idea. All this time I thought it was due to the effect of driving around for weeks (or more) with the snapped bolts and the transmission half separated from the engine.
In Fords the Great Leap Forward to more durable CV joint boots came in 1993. The ones before that would crack at 75,000 miles, give or take. The right one would ususlly go first since it was mre stressed on right turns, which are more common. From 1993-on, they would last twice that distance and more.
As an owner of multiple Tauri/Sable starting in 1986, I used to keep split boot replacement and regrease kits in my home garage and inspect the boots frequently, replacing as needed. They went 70,000 to 90,000 miles and failure was preceded by visible fatigue cracking. On the 1994 Taurus, the originals went for 200,000 miles and were still good when I donated the car, which is still running, judging from the smog checks it keeps passing according to the California smog check site. The boots on the newer cars are still fine.
Another great installment. Still curious if you asked your Mom where in Brooklyn, NY those pics of her VW were taken?
Thanks Johnny. I tried to get her to post, but she won’t for some reason. I know they lived on Rutland Road at this time, so if the pictures were taken in front of their building, that’s what it is.
Thanks for the reply. Am loving your series…. can’t wait for the next installment
Y’mean a chime like this?
YouTube: Chime
That’s a sound I remember from other families’ cars when I was a kid. I was amused and a little shocked to learn recently that it was an actual, real chime, nothing less or more than a miniature version of a domestic “ding-dong” doorbell, with spring-loaded solenoid plunger and two little tone bars. Seemed like all the Japanese automakers used them—very different to the angry-, demented-, or drunken-sounding buzzers or that weird high-pitched “Ooooooooooooooooooooo” Chevrolet adopted for ’78.
Not sure if it’s true….I was told that the Honda door chime/beep spelled out the letter “H” in morse code
Pretty sure not. “H” is dot-dot-dot (or “dit-dit-dit” if we’re talking dit/dah instead of dot/dash).
My brother had a ’83 Pulsar 3 door hatch, and my friend had a ’82 or ’83 Sentra 3 door hatch. These cars were *so* similar once you get beyond the Pulsar’s somewhat less conservative styling inside and out. Same platform, drivetrain, seats (front and rear), trim pieces, switchgear, consoles, and much more. Main dimensional difference was the Sentra’s extra rear overhang which meant more cargo space. Interior space was nearly identical for both cars. The Sentra 2 and 4 door sedans had exceptional rear legroom for a small car; it wasn’t as good in the wagon or especially the hatchback due to lower seats to leave room under the lower roof. The Pulsar did have a tilt wheel though, didn’t realize the Sentra didn’t.