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Date:         Wed, 13 Jul 1994 18:54:14 -0400
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         an467@freenet.carleton.ca (Ralf MacGrady)
Subject:      Re: hi-speed hijinks 

>167mph in a Ferrari 308s (two people, on a race track, forget RPM) \__Yum!

Well, I never push the beast past 65mph if I can help it at all... But the first time I drove it to Toronto (about 470miles), which incidentally was the first extended journey I'd ever taken with it; I was 'forced' to drive it quite fast.

What happened was that at one of the gas stations we stopped at there was another bus filling up and being puttered with by the owner: He was making grunting noises at this oil temp sender he was using as a dip stick. See, I make it a habit to check the oil and get a 'grok' as to the state of my engine. Natrually enough we had to compare notes as to how our engines were doing... His was far hotter than I would consider 'normal' or conducive to an extended life. Mine was fine. <smug look> I consider normal to be hotter than warm but not hot enough to hurt when placing ones hand on the engine case. Pull the dipstick and the handle should be slightly *slightly* warm. Of course I asked him what kind of oil he was running (having the Muir 'Rap on Oil' wrapped in my DNA). The memory gets a bit washed out due to a myriad of fermented products between then and now, but if memory (what's left of it) serves; he said something to effect of: 'W50 <burble, burble>'.

"Hmm.", I said to myself, looking at all the nifty expensive paraphenalia he had (in the bus, on the bus, and a pricey paint job. The engine, from what my untutored eye could tell, was stock). "Could I be *wrong* in thinking that the W30detergent was not up to the task" But then I was going a sedate 65 and this maniac had passed me like a disturbed bat in the belfrey. I shrugged my shoulders and went on my way while this fellow rested his machine...

But it got me thinking: How much could I push 'The Beast' before it would exact its pound of flesh? Slowly, my foot depressed the accelerator. More and more. I couldn't help myself. I *had* to know... For the next two hours, like a man posessed, I had the speedo between 75 and 85mph. All the while a crazed mantra of: "Please don't die. Please don't die.", rattled behind my staring eyes.

The upshot? When we finally got where we were going the first thing I did was to lay my hand on the engine case. The tension bound in my shoulders released: The case was warm, but not *too* warm. And the dip stick was still just right. My oil? Valvoline 30Wdetergent (summer) 10W30 (winter) will experiment with

-- Ralf MacGrady an467@freenet.carleton.ca


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