I had a sneaky suspicion something was wrong when my wife called me the other day just as she was getting to her job at the Cleveland Clinic.
"Water is pouring out from under my car!", she said, rather frantically.
"Are you safe?", I asked.
"Yes", she replied sternly. "I'm in the parking garage".
Trying my best to remain calm so as to not exacerbate her stress I asked, "ummm...did you notice if the temperature gauge was in the red?"
"What!? Yes," she replied. "It was pinned on H."
Concerned the head gaskets had blown I then asked, "Do you know how long it was on H?"
"Oh my God! I have no idea!" she said.
Lovely way to start the day.
It's not like I hadn't noticed something was amiss prior to this calamitous morning, but when I mentioned to her that the engine was making the same noise it made when our mechanic diagnosed a bad timing belt tensioner, when he was doing work on the air conditioning about a month after he replaced the timing belt, water pump and tensioner, she poo-pooed my observation calling me somewhat of an alarmist. Can't say I blame her seeing how slim the possibilities had to be the same thing could happen again.
I sort of half-mindedly back burner-ed calling him about it but, I swear, your honor it was on my to do list.
So, two-, maybe three-weeks later the water pump failed, hence the tsunami of anti-freeze on the garage floor at The Clinic. Was it related to the sound I heard? Honestly, I don't know but what a coincidence if it wasn't.
After we had it towed out to our mechanic, he replaced the water pump, timing belt and tensioner, again. On these 3.0-liter, SOHC, 24-valve Mitsubishi engines, it's a massive job; he didn't charge us which, frankly, he shouldn't have. We did feel bad for him, though.
I'm not sure why my wife insisted on driving this 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse as her "daily" for as long as she did. Frugality? Guilt because I drive a "Dave Ramsey Car" too? To her credit, she claimed to really like it; I regretted the purchase almost from the day I drove it home in the fall of 2021 and often all but pleaded with her for us to get rid of it.
We bought it, technically, as a replacement for my rusting, long-in-the-grille, 2002 Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS. Seemed like a solid purchase at the time. Only had 60,000-miles on it, not a spec of rust anywhere, and Japanese quality, right? Sure, the interior needed some work, which I took care of, but all in, seemed we done good. Real good. Well, that's what we thought at first.
However, when I discovered it required premium gas, got worse mileage than the Dale did, and I found the car uncomfortable—with the interminable drone of road noise that came with it being a convertible—it made no sense as a long-haul, 200-miles round trip, commuter car.
All that, and the damn "SERVICE ENGINE SOON" light was on for most of the time we owned it, always requiring a four- to five-hundred-dollar expenditure to fix something wrong with the emissions system. I kid that the SERVICE ENGINE SOON light should have been a dollar sign instead.
The upside? It was surprisingly quick and nimble, if you blurred your vision somewhat it could pass as a poor man's Porsche Boxster. If you like such things, it was a convertible; something we rarely took advantage of, though.
When we sold my wife's 1995 Lexus SC400, that had developed an annoying and undiagnosable stalling problem, and we pulled out of a deal on 2015 Lexus RC350 (long boring story), this became my wife's daily driver. And, again, she claimed to love what she referred to as "her little scooter."
A little scooter that grew increasingly problematic as it got older and the miles piled on. Over five-years. we put roughly 35,000 on it. So much for Japanese quality. I came to find out that Mitsubishi's aren't Toyota's or Honda's.
Believing we were being financially prudent, once it became my wife's daily, we poured a relative fortune into it about 18-months ago. In addition to the aforementioned timing belt and water pump; we also had the valve-cover gaskets replaced—which is a massive job on this car, the radiator replaced—and had multiple repairs made to the air-conditioning system.
All repairs above and beyond my knowledge base.
Once we got it back, though, since it left her stranded, her tune about her little scooter changed. Suffering from a low-grade automotive PTSD from the near-catastrophic breakdown, it could have been worse, the head gaskets could have been toast which, amazingly they weren't, her love for the car was still there, but the trust was gone.
She insisted I sell it and replace it with something newer—or at least significantly less old. And as quickly as possible.
Which, naturally, I did, although I don't know what was more stressful: dealing with a breakdown of the wife's car or shopping together for a car for her.
