I think he must be pulling your flagellum. Every car I’ve owned with a temperature gauge (other than just a TEMP idiot light) has had a needle that visibly moved. (Well, except the 1976 Mustang II with the busted gauge, which led to me overheating it, which led to it being towed away… but all the rest of my Fords have been fine, thanks!) When cold, the needle is all the way down (or to the left), and as the car warms to operating temperature, it always moves up and then stops just short of halfway to H, which should represent somewhere around 185 degrees F or thereabouts. A car with a working thermostat and a properly-sized radiator in good working order (and with decent fans) should be able to maintain that operating temperature, unless something’s wrong or otherwise putting extra load on the cooling system (like towing a heavy load uphill on a very hot day or some such). That needle doesn’t move much under ordinary driving conditions specifically because the thermostat is there to maintain an optimum temperature in that neighborhood of 180 degrees (much cooler and the engine runs inefficiently; much hotter and the coolant may boil over, or, in carbureted cars, the fuel may boil leading to vapor lock). So when you fire up the car in the morning, the needle only starts to move when the temperature of the coolant is noticeably above 100 degrees, and the needle only goes above the halfway mark if the temperature exceeds 190 or so. So it is, indeed, a compressed range, but you should still see the needle move from C up to just below halfway every day you drive it.
A couple of my older cars had ammeters that were supposed to let you know when your alternator was crapping out. They had a range from D to C (discharge to charge) and the needle was supposed to be pretty near the center if things were going well. But I never saw that needle move in any car I owned with a factory ammeter, even ones when the voltage regulator or alternator crapped out completely.
The more annoying is the gas gauge warning. E doesn’t mean empty, it means yes you are getting close to empty but you still have a couple gallons so stop freaking out.
Actually, I never once had an issue with the engine. Just every single OTHER thing…
Cooling system, brakes, clutch (within 1K miles of me owning it) etc, etc… My opinion at the time was that GM should have never put that V6 in there. Should have been their excellent Quad 4 engine.
We’ve had various German cars over the last 2 decades and my wife and I split time between a GTI and a BMW now. The weight distribution of the BMW is amazing - it’s just about 50/50 due to engine placement behind the front axle so the handling is nothing like I’ve had really since the Fiero.
I would love to try an old Boxter one of these days that’s been owned by an enthusiast who kept up with things.
Kudos to you for keeping your ride in good shape.
[edited for a mistake and clarification]
There oughta be a “check motherboard” light that comes on in the event of any fluctuation in the processor, memory, the speed of any of the system’s fans, or if you left the floppy drive door slightly open (ok, dating myself on that last one). That’d be completely useful and easy to understand.
The real question is about when you can stop freaking out and when you have to start walking. One day I’m going to bring along a gallon of gas and run it until it’s dry just to see how far I get when the warning light comes on.
You’re not meant to understand. Your mechanic is meant to understand, but only after he’s plugged in a set of meters, and charged you handsomely for his services.
If the car had the vocabulary to express itself more clearly, it would be less stupid.
Nah, don’t do that. Your gas tank has some dregs in it that might be merrily floating on the top, or settled comfortably to the floor of the tank. If you run it completely dry, you’re apt to clog up your fuel filter with excess sediment.
I always assume the light comes on when I have somewhere between one and two gallons remaining (closer to one), and so far that has served me well.
Heh. No doubt. Those cars suffer from an excess of personality.
That '87 Jag of mine had the twin gas tanks, and apparently since it was new if the gas gauge said you had 1/4 tank, it really meant “this tank is empty, better switch to the other tank.” I guess they could get away with that since you did have a spare tank… assuming you learned your lesson the very first time, and didn’t let both tanks get down to 1/4 (that is, Empty).
I had an Austin Allegro that cost thirty pounds; when you opened the passenger glove box, the entire dashboard fell off. And an Avocado green Austin Ambassador with ignition troubles we called ‘The Ambastador’. Nice car when it worked, though. Lots of velour & funky turbine wheels. I’m trying to save up some scratch to buy a Spitfire, cos I’m not afraid of anything 70s Birmingham can throw at me.
That light is like a STOP sign on the edge of a cliff. It means pull over right now, your engine is in the process of seizing up and the damage is probably already terminal …
I used to work with a guy (in the US) who collected Spitfires. He and his dad have, I think, 4. None of which work. One did (and had some electrical system he’d cowboyed together involving a knife switch), but the sump fell off somewhere and lunched the engine. Or something like that, I forget the details.
Closest I came to British Leyland (other than living fairly close to Longbridge) was learning to drive in mum’s old Metro. And what a POS that car was. Didn’t stop my sister from buying a Metro herself as her first car. I was much more sensible, I got a Nova.
Still like the look of Rover SD1s.
As far as old Jags go, I thought the engines were meant to be okay. The problems I’ve heard about more about door handles falling off and that sort of thing.
I’m sure they had the best of intentions, but that straight six XK engine’s design dated back to 1949. Ahead of its time while Churchill was still alive, but by the 70s…
Anyway, the Lucas electrical systems in those cars were the real weak point. From the Wikipedia:
Joseph Lucas, the founder of Lucas Industries was humorously known as the Prince of Darkness in North America, because of the electrical problems common in Lucas-equipped cars, especially British Leyland products. Whether the fault lay with Lucas or British Leyland cost-cutting is open to dispute.
