The lovely Loriann drove me and a small box of tools to Glinda’s parking spot on the side of Interstate 70 yesterday during rush hour - poor timing on my part. Under the illumination of her car’s headlights I determined my initial diagnosis (with limited input I must say) was incorrect. The exhaust pipe had not broken; instead the muffler had worked itself off the exhaust pipe due to an insufficiently tightened clamp. I do like easy fixes. Within five minutes I was done, the tools were in the trunk, and we were speeding quietly down the highway. I can’t get over how differently it feels to drive a LM over all the EMs I’ve been behind the wheel of. Glinda is my first, and hopefully, won’t be the only LM I get to wield the wheel of.
Once I had her in the garage, I loosened the clamp, adjusted the orientation of the tailpipe, and used an impact wrench to really crank down on the nuts. It won’t slip apart again. Since the right rear was up on a jackstand and there was no sign of oil leaks, I decided to finally reinstall the rear engine grill (piece under the rear bumper). With that and the front air grill installed, the car looks complete again. That inspired me to get out the tire cleaner and attack the whitewalls which, until then, were more like tanwalls.
This morning, as I walked down the front walk to begin my morning commute, I took a glance back at Glinda sitting in the driveway. I just had to record the moment, so out came the cellphone camera and I snapped the following photos.We’ve been struggling with gas mileage ever since Glinda was put back on the road. The last few times Victoria has attempted to fill an apparently empty tank (according to the gas gauge), the pump has shut off at far less than the 14 gallon capacity. Convinced the gas gauge has been wrong and the pump was shutting off because the tank was full, I told her to not to worry about the gage reading empty; there must be plenty of gas; just drive. Well, that was very bad advice. Today, on her drive home from school and with the needle below E, she ran out of gas. She pulled the gas can from the trunk, poured a gallon into the tank and drove the $#%^&%^ car home. I am confident that when I go to fill the tank this evening, I’ll get 13.8 gallons or so to go in before the pump shuts off.