Well, I spent the months of February, March and April out in the cold of my apartment's parking lot under the 914. I learned much about valve adjustments and brake bleeding and shift linkages. There was much to fix: awful baby turbo mirrors, jerry-rigged oil coolers, mis-installed short-shift kits, and a destroyed exhaust system. I was introduced to Pelican Parts in a big, big way. But the fun was that I still got to drive it as I was rebuilding it. I commuted in it to work at least a day a week in the winter (like skiing--you're cold but having fun), and took the targa off on the first warm days. Heaven!
The car had some history. Sometime in the early 1990s it had been partially restored and repainted. It came with the original California plates, the original owners' manual stamped by the San Diego Porsche-Audi dealer, and records for almost nine years. The car moved cross-country to Washington, DC, in 1995 and was soon thereafter given to a lawyer as in-kind payment. He kept it for a year, rarely driving it, and in 1996 sold it to the fellow I bought it from. I discovered what throttle-off oversteer was with shot springs. The exhaust leak at #2 let my friends know when I was coming in unmistakeable fashion. I led a club-racing friend of mine up a twisty country road, and when he caught me he said it sounded like a Harley on steriods. There was one glorious, glorious day in late April when it was near 70 degrees and bright sunny. I took the targa off at lunch and blasted up I-83 into the Maryland horse country...then I knew that I was in way, way too deep. It was the finest driving I had ever experienced, and there was no turning back. Trouble, though, was around the corner.
