Complete and total MDK

From August, 2008.

I often wonder why I even bother. If not for my own abilities I would probably not make the attempts that I do, and for my own knowledge I wouldn't go through after those attempts fail so painfully. It's a vicious cycle of bloodshed and massacre, but it's one I've come to know so well I feel I might actually miss it if were gone. What the hell am I talking about? Read on.

Saturday afternoon after the Dunwoody Beerfest I made a walk to my car to go meet people at Fuddruckers. As I've done a million times before I put the key in and started it, only to hear the engine roar to life with a strange whining noise behind it. Slightly intoxicated I dismissed it for a moment, but then as anyone with my skill should I turned the car off to investigate. Shutting the car off yielded no relief from the sound, and it quickly became clear to me what it was. Opening the hood verified it, the starter was still engaged, even with the engine and ignition turned off. I'll be damned. I figured it could have just stuck for a second and restarted it, only to receive the same results. Damn. With the noise now getting a bit louder I decided to do the quick and safe fix and whipped out my knife to cut the negative battery cable. A quick slice and the noise stopped, and hoping I had maybe solved it by doing so I touched the frayed cable back to the battery for a moment to test. Nope, that wasn't it, the starter began immediately, turning the engine over and over with no fuel or signal power to actually make it run. Damn again. Knowing I was beaten for the day I called for a ride and got back home, only to continue questioning this new and weird event I had encountered earlier. I drank a lot and forgot about it.

Sunday I get a ride back out to the car, still unsure of a plan to get it operable enough to drive without damage. I removed the positive cable from the battery and then made a temporary repair to the negative cable I had previously cut, enough to get it connected to the battery. I then took the positive terminal apart, separating the power leads to the car from the starter lead, and reconnected them to allow for the computer, fuel pump, and other systems to run. With the key in and the ignition turned on I quickly 'jumped' the starter lead, the engine sputtered but died right after. I tried it a few more times until I realized the starter's gear was creating added resistance on the engine, so with a final jump I pulled the throttle plate wide open and the engine fired strong. Cool. Closed the hood and took off, quickly but carefully to prevent further damage. On the way I became aware that if the starter decided to let go of a bearing I would be royally fucked, the gear drive would jam into the flexplate, giving the same effect as throwing the car into Park at high speed. Ignoring the dangers I drove lightly at low speed home, keeping it under 2K RPM the whole way. I made it safe and sound, with the smell of cooked steel emitting from under the hood. Nice.

Toyota thought they were light years ahead when they built the Lexus LS400, specifically the 4.0L, four cam V8 engine found in them. Indeed it was a pioneer in it's day, but something in the design was flawed from day one and they still continue to build all their V8 engine the same way. The starter is not where you think it is. On any regular V8 engine on virtually any car on the road ever, the starter hangs low on the side of the transmission. Even most V6 engines use this design as well, making starter replacement relatively easy. Toyota though, to save space and fit such a large engine between the rails of a smaller car, decided to put the starter up high, in the 'V' of the engine, between the cylinder heads. While this isn't the worst idea ever, the intake manifold, plenum, fuel rails, throttle body, and all associated emission equipment and plumbing sit above the starter, making it completely invisible to anyone looking. The dealership calls for nearly eight hours to replace the starter on this car, and they're pretty close on that. Add to it that after 16 years of scalding underhood heat the plastic clips, harness plugs, and hard rubber hoses are dried out and brittle, so every bit of it breaks into pieces when handled. Yay. I actually had replaced the starter two years ago, but even then I was so livid that instead of knocking it out quickly I bought a BMW 525i to drive until the weather turned cool enough to work on it. I still kick myself for selling that BMW. I did a ton of halfass work to get the car running, so now I had the chance to repair all the broken shit from before. The engine came apart better this time since it had been gone through two years ago, and at just over an hour the starter was out in my hand. I also figured while it was parked for a few days I'd repair the exhaust leak I'd recently acquired from what seemed to be a cracked EGR pipe. Again, I decide to do these things knowing damn well it's a bad idea.

The EGR system was removed the last time I worked on the engine heavily, so the pipe itself was just crimped shut until I could remove it fully. Of course in that time it cracked somewhere below my work, giving the clean, Euro looking 4door luxury car the sound of a mid '70s C10 pickup and making me cringe to drive at anywhere past quarter throttle to avoid the horrific sound of exhaust gases expelling out right behind the engine. Again though, Toyota incorporated a design to make things compact, so the pipe exits from behind the plenum then drops out of sight below the car, down the right side exhaust manifold. You can't see any part of the pipe anywhere, so I started digging, pulling the entire upper wiring harness off as well as going below to remove the catalytic converter. Both were bad ideas. The wiring harness is wrapped in a plastic loom and clipped down in numerous places, as soon as I began tweaking it a bit plastic shreds began flying, with the loom literally disintegrating. I went ahead and pulled what little remained off in the understanding I'd redo it all later on, there really was no other option at that point. This gave me more of a view from above, enough to realize the pipe was also bolted somewhere else besides the obvious. From below the converter came off with equal amount of destruction and pain. Since there's two, one on each side, the rear section of the exhaust has to be unhung to allow for room to remove the unit. There's a bracket the size of a whale that is in the way, and then there's the three nuts to the manifold which look like artifacts from the Titanic. Damn again.

Exhaust hardware gives me nightmares. The kind of nightmares where I'm running down a corridor trying to find the beautiful woman who's been kidnapped, only to find that I cannot save her unless I unbolt an exhaust system from a 1972 Gremlin that's been up North for 30 years. I shed tears knowing she's going to die and that I can do nothing to save her, and wish I could take her place to make the World right. I'm dead serious. Exhaust hardware goes through heat cycles it's entire life, going from dead cold to white hot, then back cold again, over and over. The coating on them sheds away allowing for rust to take hold, and the tensile strength is weakened to a degree as the heat bakes the once separate parts into one piece. Axially the bolts become rock hard while the outer threads go soft, awaiting to sheer off like a stripper on stage. It's a bad thing to try and do this but I'm determined. The two lower bolts are backed by nuts, and these amazingly don't break too much of a sweat. They're tight and corroded to hell, but break loose with some 'love' behind them. They fall out into my hands, looking like little brown bits of trash more than bolts. The upper three though don't let go so easily. These are secured with nuts, with a stud threaded into the manifold from below. Thinking I'm going to be slick I grab the air hose and a 3/8" impact wrench, knowing air tools do wonders when hand tools only do shit. I smile and squeeze the trigger only to hear the wrench gently whisper to me "sorry". 140psi of air pressure isn't going to do shit to these things. I try each one, all three laugh at my efforts. A tear begins to well up in my eye. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

With a 14mm socket, 12" extension, and my massive 18" breaker bar I go to town, knowing I'm about to take a step into a place I don't want to go. Leaning on it with all weight I hear the first nut give a little, then start to rotate a little, then a little more. I've got it loose enough for a ratchet and start wailing on it, hoping to get it loose and off the stud before something detrimental happens. Hope does not cut it. Halfway down the nut gets really tight again and as I make one more good turn it goes soft, I close my eyes for the inevitable and then hear the sound of steel giving way, followed by me falling forward with tools clattering to the ground. The stud has broken in half, sheered clean just past the flange. Fuck. I wipe the tear away and go to the next one, praying for better luck. I get it, but only in a equal to what I've just had, the two remaining nuts come all the way off, but once inspected I realize the entire threaded portion of both is gone. Looking up I see the studs hanging through the flange, both shiny and clean from having the entire outer portion of them stripped off like the last few sheets on a paper towel roll. Fuck. The converter comes off now though and I can begin to get at the EGR pipe fittings to get it out. From below I can see the bolt securing the pipe to the head, but I can't reach it. back up top I can feel it, but can't see it. Slowly sliding a wrench down behind the engine I feel around for the bolt for what seems like a decade, but finally land on it dead and start turning. I start, but quickly stop. There's enough clearance to turn the wrench maybe a millimeter, so I remove it, reset it, and turn again. I stop to wipe another tear away, then turn again. And again. And again. Exactly three minutes later, the pipe is loose enough to move around. Another eight minutes goes by and it's flopping around like a small penis in a whore's vagina. Still though, the bolt is not out. Two more minutes goes by and I feel the wrench give, I let go and hear it and the bolt drop the ground. Success. Not quite yet. The other end of the pipe bolted to the manifold is still impossible to see. I can feel it, two nuts secure it, so I begin to go for it. There's no room for a deep well socket, but a short well won't fit over the stud and nut combined. I split the difference with a swivel socket, only to have it twist around and jam up against the firewall. I'm really getting tired, but determined to keep going. A few minutes go by and one comes off, followed shortly by the other one. The pipe slides out and down into my face, cursing me for removing it. Looking at it I see two cracks, both a good 20mm long. Damn. I cut the end off, flatten it smooth, and set it aside to weld on later to seal the hole where it once resided. It's then that I call it a day.

And so we come to today. I run the pipe fitting by a friend to weld it closed, and pick the starter up from C&S Electric who kindly rebuilt it under warranty. I figure I'll get the exhaust put back up tonight and save the starter for tomorrow. If only I knew. My plan in my head was to use a stud puller and remove the damaged studs from the manifold, then thread in bolts from below instead. I had recently bought a nice stud extractor set so this would be an excellent chance to try them out. Gripping the first one with a good size ratchet, I began. Slowly it started to let go, but then as I had hoped against it sheered off clean at the flange. The next broke farther up only to leave the remnants for me to grab again, breaking further back as well, flush with the flange. The third one broke clean like the first, but only after ejecting the guts of my stud extractor onto the ground with it. Fuck. With all three broken clean off, I made the next move, the drill. This is where I sympathize with anyone who works at a muffler shop. Even though I've just proven the studs themselves are weak as hell, the axial center is still so hard that it will only give from twisting force. Drilling dead straight into it is like trying to break concrete with a blunt pencil. Seven drill bits and nearly an hour later I've made an indent in each one, enough to notice, but not anything close to going through. I give up yet again for the night and come in to clean up.

Tomorrow, it's on. I'm going to go buy a case of 5/16" drill bits and not stop until every single one of them is dulled flat. Even then I'll only have one stud drilled out fully. I can't fucking wait.