Vanya's Turbo SE blog

[Vanya]

After 4 years of Esprit ownership it feels like it's about time to start a blog for my Turbo SE. Since taking the plunge in 2012 I've been on an arduous yet fulfilling path which has seen me develop from a totally incompetent theoretician, to a mildly less incompetent and increasingly fearless grease monkey. More importantly, my life has changed. I'm still not sure if it's for better or worse, but what I am more certain about is that I made the right choice. 

This won't be a thread or blog comparable to some on here, as I work at a glacial pace, but hopefully I'll be able to chronicle my Turbo SE's path from quasi-neglected classic, to a routinely maintained and cherished supercar. 

But before all that, a quick story of how I came to own a Lotus, and more importantly, an Esprit.

Sometime in 2011 at the age of 24 I had a nervous breakdown of sorts. For reasons unexplained, my body went into a state of constant panic and anxiety that went unabated for months. To make matters worse I'd just started my career as an engineer, and not wanting my employer to feel like they've hired a dud, I had to do my best to function and hide my predicament for fear of premature termination (and that'd have sucked in 2011 when anyone and everyone was cautious after the fiasco of 2008). Not much seemed to help and I was regularly in pieces. Or, in layman terms, completely f****ed up. It got so bad that I couldn't play guitar anymore because certain chord voicings would frighten me. That bad.

One day as I was heading into work and walking across the parking lot I spotted something odd. Amidst the sea of mundane daily drivers sat a tiny thing that resembled a group C race car. With its weird lines, wide rear tires and meshed tailgate it really stuck out. I went a little closer and learned it was a Lotus Exige.

From there, something strange happened. I'd always been someone who was proudly ignorant of cars, seeing them as a method of getting from point A to point B, and not considering the cool exotics like Ferrari and Lamborghini which I'd written off as permanently beyond my reach and the preserve of new money and other asshats. 

As a way to manage my mental issues I started devouring info on the Exige and its less aggressive relative the Elise - checking prices, insurance, what could go wrong, what to look for, what they're like to drive. I'd fantasize about eventually owning one. This would change my life. And it felt like it would take guts too - everyone was always saying how unreliable sports cars are, how it's just stupid. Why not buy a BMW instead? 

After a while it became known by my colleagues that I was searching for a Lotus. One afternoon, one of them asked me - hey, have you thought about that other car they made, what's it called - oh, let me check - Esprit. That's the one.

"What, you mean that square thing that looks like an old Mitsubishi?" came my sarcastic reply.

I was playing Gran Turismo 5 at the time, remember seeing the 2004 Esprit V8 in the menu and asking myself how the hell such a modern car could look so dated. For some odd reason, this very factor, and the above comment, resulted in a sort of infatuation that remains to this day. The rest is history.   

 

[Vanya]

Next up, how to pick a Lotus Esprit.

The initial prospect of an Exige or Elise was daunting enough with regards to the fear mongering. The Esprit took it to a whole new level. This was hard core. Who is crazy enough to buy a supercar? One that was from the era of poor reliability among sports cars, and a BRITISH one at that, the posterboy of bad electronics (always Lucas, ALWAYS!) and motor implosions!

Apart from regularly swatting away horror stories which people were throwing my way (people who never have owned, and never will have the balls, to buy a supercar I might add), I had to find the right car for me.

There would be no do-overs, I didn't want to screw up - I had to get it right from the beginning. Right spec, right car, right history, right checklist you name it, I had it covered. Lotus Esprit World, Pistonheads and Car & Classic became my most visited web pages. I'd find myself actively refreshing pages at work hoping new listings would come up. Swedish Esprits were out of the question - I was young, poor, and the Pound/Crown ratio was very favourable. 

Eventually, in march 2012, three options presented themselves:

A 1990 Turbo SE at South West Lotus Centre
A 1994 Esprit S4 being sold by a Dave Brown in Plymouth
A (possibly) Turbo SE being sold by some place called GP Cars in Hertfordshire via eBay (The listing read "Lotus H Esprit", with the H indicating the number plate year, no more info - was it a carb turbo with SE bodykid? Who knows?)

In short, plane tickets were bought, and my father and I hopped on a Norwegian flight over to the UK whereupon we subjected ourself to a relentless two days of viewing the above. Early flight to (I think it was Stanstead), rent-a-car, and all the way to Exeter. It took us a while to find SWLC but upon turning the right corner I was rewarded with an unforgettable image: the first Esprit I'd seen in the flesh.

It was a newly resprayed calypso red SE with cream interior. After a chat with the wonderful folks at SWLC I hopped in the car and had a feel. It was tiny, cramped, and...well disappointing. The leather was cardboard hard and in worse nick than the pictures. I'd dreamed of soft leather and a true GT car - were all Esprits like this? After being taken for a ride in it I decided I'd keep going and look at other options. In retrospect, it was actually a good deal (I was too inexperienced to know it then) - it had a nice new manifold, new shocks, new paint. Stupid me was scared off by a weeping driveshaft seal (what a joke right?!) - and that interior wouldn't have cost me a fortune to fix. 

Next up was Dave Browns amazing S4. Mustard yellow, and an even more wild styling, this was an eye opener. Unfortunately it was getting dark and we had to get back to our house in London to rest up. After a spirited drive to a local shopping center with WC facilities (I almost pissed myself like an excited puppy after a ride with Dave which saw him push the car and my father try to keep up in our Skoda rent-a-car) we parted ways. This is the one I thought. No doubt (pics below). Mustard yellow, beige interior. Amazing. It was a bit more pricy at £13,500 and its service history was a bit iffy (no new cambelt for over 4 years, changing owners without maintenance etc), but I was willing to go for it. 

We drove back to London tired, but feeling satisfied. Maybe it was just the exhaustion but the truck-stop Fish & Chips we had half way was the best thing I'd tasted in a long time. I was gonna be an Esprit owner. One more car tomorrow I thought, shall I cancel the viewing? I'd already made up my mind. But it was close to our house, just a short drive. Might as well check it out.

The next day we set off to Hertfordshire to check out the "Lotus H Esprit" - a racing green/beige story that looked very elegant for some reason. It was also keenly priced at £11,995. 

The place turned out to be hard to find. We were driving through an area that looked like a country club. People (rich no doubt) on horses everywhere, cozy little pubs and cottages etc etc. But no dealership. What gives? I call the dealer, Steve, and ask how to get here.

"If you go along the road you're on now, you'll pass a small post, about 1 meter high. Take a right there". We get to the post. Sure enough, white post with a dot on it. But to the right....a dirt road? Ok....this can't be right, can it? 

We get on the dirt road and drive for a while. Shortly thereafter we see a pair of gates leading into an estate. In a clearing lies the Esprit, looking absolutely amazing in its racing green/beige combo. The weather was also on our side that day - a wonderful spring day, warm and sunny. A perfect day for a test drive. 

I get into the car and am struck with a fantastic aroma - it smells great! The leather has be reconnolised, and is soft - EXACTLY what I was looking for. We head out for the test drive. The ABS light is flashing, and the idle keeps going up (turned out to be the jacking capsule catching..) - but other than that it sounds right. We head out, and I ask Steve if we're really going back the way we came. Sure we are. Over that bumpy dirt road? Yes. Do you even take the Ferraris over it? Yes. Ok then.

After the dirt patch and some careful driving on my part, twisty roads await. The combination of no power steering and the interior got me. This would be a hard choice. In that spring sunshine with the smell of fuel in the air and the newly cleaned interior this was turning into one of the best, most memorable, days in my life.

That night it was tough to sleep - what to do? S4 or Turbo SE? I asked myself in the end, which would I be most sad about if someone had snatched it out from under me? Though I still sometimes feel sad about not buying that S4 (I tried to acquire it 2 years ago, and last year it showed up at a breakers on eBay...) I believe I made the right choice. The Turbo SE was it. And I'm regularly reminded of it as people complement the colour combo and its perfect lines. 

On sunday we headed back to Stockholm with the prospect of returning within a month to pick up the SE provided the ABS lamp was dealt with and that the workshop changed the timing belt. That's all for now. In the next episode: 

Why you shouldn't haggle over a timing belt change.  

[Bibs]

You can use our proper blogs if you prefer mate, or carry on as you are! 

http://www.thelotusforums.com/forums/blogs/

[Chillidoggy]

Wow! A fascinating read, and a well-written story. Please continue when you have time, Vanya.

[The Pits]

Rivetting read Vanya and it ends with a BRG Turbo SE.

My kind of story!

 

[stephenwhyte]

Thoroughly enjoyed reading your Blog Vanya, especially seeing as it included pics at the bottom. Wishing it was longer.......can't wait for the next instalment??

[Jacques]

I second that. Great write up. So, take a cup of (British racing) green tea, and head back to the keyboard

Cheers,

Jacques.

[silverfrost]

Great story Vanya enjoyed reading, not everybody goes into such details about finding their car, and lets face it, it is always exciting buying a lotus that you have dreamed of owning. especially the esprit, for some it can magic, for others it can turn into a horror story as once you catch eyes on these lets face it amazing machines you can sometimes let the great design looks cloud your judgement.  Glad yours was a happy story 

[Vanya]

Thanks everyone for reading! Time for the next installment of this epic tale: The Journey Home (and how I almost totalled my new Esprit 5 miles from home).

Prior to collecting the car in May I'd asked the dealer, GP Cars, to take care of the flashing ABS light, as I'd learned there was no fix for this issue (and I was already shaky about the lack of safety in the car with its lack of airbags, traction control etc). I also wanted a timing belt change, but had to settle for contacting their preferred workshop myself (Highline Autos) and negotiating a price myself. GP Cars assured me of Highlines proficiency - they were after all accustomed to servicing Bentleys and other expensive cars, of course they'd be able to handle an Esprit. 

Being cocky I decided I wasn't just going to accept whatever price they quoted me. "If you can do it for £700, you've got the job" I said. They accepted and no more was said on the matter. I felt rather smug at the time. This would backfire horribly. But more on that later. 

After a month in Stockholm it was time to head back to the UK to pick up the SE and begin the journey home, again with my father.

We picked up the car from GP and I was as happy as ever to see it. The great thing about British Racing Green is, while it looks great in the sun, it looks even more classy in rain and cloudy conditions. This was going to be awesome. 

As we navigated away from GP Cars we were presented with the challenge of exercising the nimbleness of the Esprit in order to avoid suicidal grouse & pheasants, birds which seem to enjoy hopping out of foliage in front of oncoming cars. Everything seemed to check out just fine. 

A short time later, I realized the brake warning light was on. My heart sank. Oh dear. This can't be good. After making a stop we decided it was probably because my father had been driving with the handbrake partially engaged. A call to Steve at GP Cars was made and he informed me of the switch on the handbrake being a bit glitchy. It's nothing. Ok. We journeyed onwards to Harwich where we'd board the ferry to Esbjerg in Denmark. 

Prior to getting on the boat we stocked up on supplies and all the stuff you just can't leave the UK without (the entire range of Walker's crisps, twiglets, scones, hot cross buns etc etc). Are supercars really meant to be this practical? 

Just before getting on the boat, we realized we'd left our passports and tickets in the boot. Problem was that with 2 minutes before boarding, the tailgate wasn't so willing to part company with the rest of the car. Crap. Mild panic. We eventually manage to get it open by having one of us hold the latch up in the cabin and the other pry gently at the tailgate.

Well on board we can catch a breather, and lend more thought to that brake warning light that doesn't seem to simply be "glitchy". I cozy up in my cabin with the owners handbook.

In it, I read that the light can signify dangerously low brake fluid. My heart sinks again.

We go below deck and pop the front compartment open. We open the brake fluid reservoir and find dark dirty fluid - crap (except we were looking at the clutch fluid, that's how clueless we were). Under the ACTUAL brake fluid reservoir is a pool of, you guessed it, brake fluid. At this point the voices in the back of my head, of friends and coworkers who had advised me against this, make themselves heard once again - "you see, I told you. What did you expect? Why do you think nobody buys these cars?" they implore. 

That night I cant sleep. In my head I'm trying to devise a way of getting the car off the boat and the rest of the way without fluid in the brake lines, let alone how I'd clean up the mess which was eating into my paintwork as I lay there trying to rest.

Eventually, morning comes and the time arrives for us to get back in our cars. We take a deep breath and turn the key. Car starts and....the brakes work. That's odd. Thought they were shot. The brake warning light is on once again but we pay it no mind. British car electronics. Maybe people are right about that.

The rest of the journey turned out to be fine, with no major technical glitches with the sole exception of the speedo, which decided to give up the ghost just as we were crossing into Sweden. No problem. We drive by feel, and at this point we know what speeds we're travelling at just by looking at the rev counter. This is living I thought - with the sun shining on us as we crossed the bridge into Sweden and the interior of the car reflected back at us from the glass roof. I'd done it. I'd gone through with it, and not folded to the fear mongers. That'll show 'em!

The weather lasted until Södertälje just south of Stockholm. It was May but there was a thick fog blanketting the town and a chill in the air. We stop off at a petrol station to take a break, and journey onwards. Almost home, it starts to snow. I've been driving for 10 hours straight and I'm getting a bit tired. I reduce the speed a little, worried about how the tyres will cope with the snow. 

On the highway exit off the E4 where we turn off onto the last stretch before home I spot a line of cars and some emergency service vehicles - it turns out that others have been caught out in the snow and ice with their summer tyres and resulting in a pileup. Not wanting to fall prey to the same predicament, I hit the brakes to slow down.  

Except nothing happens. 

I stab the brakes once again: nada. The stationary cars in front grow ever closer. I'm going to crash, but how to minimize the damage, to ourselves and the car? I swerve gently onto the hard shoulder where the layer of snow, frost and old road grit enables us to slow the car down just enough to miss the pileup by a hair. 

That was close. Not wanting to take any more chances, we continue our journey at no more than 30 mph. To hell with anyone who thinks that's too slow. At this point its pitch black AND snowing, reducing visibility to nil. 

Finally we arrive, maneuver the car into the driveway and hop out, shaken, but unscathed. Journey's end.

The morning after:

Coming up next: speedo cables, sticking tailgates and the thrilling conclusion to "What you shouldn't haggle over a timing belt change".

[march]

Great read, thanks for sharing - Can't wait for the next instalment 

[Vanya]

Time for Part IV: The Awakening/Year One

Once the adrenaline had worn off, it was time to get better acquainted with my new toy. A quick look over the car threw up a myriad things that needed looking into. Here's what it looked like when I bought it:

First off, the speedo cable. It's good to have a functioning one. Pop the boot up to have a look where it is. Except the tailgate had now decided to be permanently uncooperative and refuse to release on the left side. Cock.

What to do? Now, the wizened Vanya of one year later would have delivered a firm slap to my nonplussed face, and proceeded to remove the exhaust system in order to get at the boot floor from beneath the car. You don't even need to raise the Esprit as access from that end is so generous. 

Except this wasn't one year later. And there's a reason this thread is subtitled "Young & Stupid". 

Attempts were made to open the boot in various ways, using all the tips we'd found on the interwebz such as parking on a curb, jacking one wheel up and other variations to twist the body. With the already weak battery of the car giving up the ghost (and situated in that bloody boot as well!) there was only one option left. The LEW way. Invasive surgery. And with that, one of the first acts bestowed upon this Esprit SE under my care, was drilling a hole in its bodywork. Tears were shed that day. 

Once I'd processed what had been done, I could reach in with my skinny arm and squeeze the latch on the left side. The boot was free. At least we succeeded. My Brother and I have since adjusted the tailgate so it's bang on center. It's never been a problem since. 

With that debacle over, it was time to locate the speedo cable and see how it's routed, and what had gone wrong. After a trip down to the local DIY-carwash (one with a lift) we found this:

The other end:

Like many an Esprit, this one had been underused. The cable had simply dried out, and it had twisted itself off. A quick and simple job, which my father took care of for me. At the time, I literally didn't have a clue. 

The remainder of the spring and summer was spent learning about a) cars in general b) basic routine maintenance and c) the foibles of the Esprit. All these at the same time make for a steep learning curve. In retrospect, this purchase was an insane starting point for a car hobby. But my obsession with the car outweighed the difficulties. 

More soon!  

 

 

 

[Jacques]

There is someting about crossing the border to Sweden, as my speedo needle fell off on the very first trip after buying it - on the way from Stockholm to Copenhagen. But there are also great benefits of driving an Esprit from the ferry toshore, namely it's so loud, that the ferryman guides you out first thing, to get rid of the noise, ehrm... music.

Jacques.

[Vanya]

Hahaha yeah that's a good point, although when I got my Esprit it was silenced by the following crap:

The stock exhaust weighed a ton. I kept it for a while but was eventually forced to get rid of it. It went into a recycling dumpster. As for the cat, it too weighed a fair bit, and rewarded us with bits of monolith when we removed it. The exhaust removal was the first of our major excursions with a Dremel. It has become part of the family now. 

[Barrykearley]

Try the v8 back box - even bigger and heavier - oh and much more crap

[Vanya]

13 hours ago, Barrykearley said:

Try the v8 back box - even bigger and heavier - oh and much more crap

Got a pristine one on my workshop shelf! Hasn't been on the car since 1996 by the looks of it. I sometimes use it to get a good pump before workouts. 

[Vanya]

Another day, another excerpt from The Book of SE! (I swear this will become a regular restoration thread as soon as I've recounted the work done during the last few years!)

Before I begin, let's warm up with a picture. Here's me with my car in 2012:

Observe my facial expression. This is the look of a man who has been screwed. 

Except that he doesn't know it yet, and he is blissfully unaware of how he's been conned. 

As 2012 rounded off, and as my temporary 3 month registration expired, it was time to have the car inspected prior to receiving classic car insurance. Now at the time, insurance companies wanted over £1200 per annum from me for a 2007 Ford Focus with 3rd party fire & theft coverage, so you can imagine what the Esprit would have set me back. Classics insurance was (and is) the way to go, costing me something like £70 a year with unlimited mileage. I don't know how it is in other countries but in Sweden, the variant I applied for requires a thorough inspection and valuation of the vehicle by a Lotus Car Club of Sweden member beforehand. In the case of Lotii (and the Esprit specifically) the go-to man in Stockholm is one Lasse Wickenberg, a veritable ninja when it comes to all things Esprit and an incredibly gifted engineer to boot, with 2 pristine Esprits in his personal collection.

As I pulled up by his house, I felt some trepidation - this would be the litmus test, a moment of truth of sorts: It'd either end up with a seal of approval, or I'd be leaving crestfallen. 

The inspection was actually a lot more thorough than I'd expected. It felt as if every nook and cranny was being looked over. Notes were being taken. About an hour later it was over. Not a bad car he said, not bad at all. Sure it was dirty in the engine bay, the paintwork wasn't original and it wasn't going to win any awards, but I could've done a lot worse. 

For some reason or other, just before leaving, I remember Lasse wanting to poke his head into the engine bay one last time. I recall a series of perplexed grunts and surprise, a "what in God's name?" moment.

What's up? I asked. Then he showed me:

Now, those of you who have followed me posts over the years are probably rolling your eyes by now considering how many times I've mentioned it. There's even a (hilarious) thread I created when I was entirely clueless regarding the nomenclature of what I'd been subject to, and I made a ham-fisted attempt to describe my predicament here on TLF. Thread link below. The title says it all. 

I should have suspected I'd be played for a fool after I'd spoken to the mechanic at Highline Autos who would change my belt - I asked him what he thought of the car, whether he deemed it to be a good one or not, etc. He closed off the conversation by asking me how old I was. 

Basically, what they'd done is bought a Giugiaro-Esprit timing belt (and aftermarket tensioner bearing, not the SKF one) and smacked it on there, tensioning it completely arbitrarily. No way in hell did the person doing that job NOT know it was the wrong part or that something didn't add up. I suppose they knew the car would be leaving the country, and that I wouldn't put up much of a fight after discovering their cock-up. They weren't wrong.

By the time the mistake was discovered, half a year, and a summer of spirited driving, had passed. Several on here implored me to get my money back. I made a weak attempt. I still remember the phone call, first to GP Cars:

"Hi I'm so and so, your preferred mechanic changed my timing belt prior to me purchasing the car, contingent upon the belt being changed"

"Sorry can't help you, you negotiated that with the mechanic. Call them."

Called Highline Autos:

"Hi I'm so and so, you changed my timing belt and completely messed up - wrong parts, extremely low tension, I could've lost the engine"
"Ok, well if you bring the car back to us we can change it."
"Bring the car back. To the UK. Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"I think a refund or some compensation is in order - I've spent £1500 on timing belt changes this year thanks to your mistake"
"It's not us you should contact, it's our parts supplier who supplied the wrong part."
"Ok. Could I please have their contact details?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because we don't connect them directly to the end customer" [or similar cock & bull]
"Ok, but I think in this case an exception should be made, no? Could you get me in touch with them?"
"No, because they've gone out of business. Sorry. Can't help you. Bye."

After a while even GP Cars stopped answering my mails - I figured maybe they could appeal to Highline's better angels, but it was fruitless. 

The funny thing is, this isn't the only thing Highline cocked up. 

During my first inspection of the car they'd told me it's just had its brakes done. Whatever the hell that meant. I didn't delve deeper, as they'd mentioned it in passing.

All of a sudden, things started falling into place: timing belt change? Cockup.

That pool of brake fluid in the front compartment that gave us a scare driving the car home? Cockup - they'd simply overfilled the accumulator way past the max mark, whereupon it flooded when it was pressurized. Cockup. Someone (perhaps not Highline) had also attached a label saying "USE ONLY DOT 5 BRAKE FLUID" on the accumulator. Cockup.

That Brake Warning light? I had my suspicions. With the ALDL cable hooked up to Espritmon I could see I had a flashing ABS light and an error code - the same ABS light that flashed at me during the test drive, and that I wanted fixed if I were to buy the car.

Removing the binnacle I looked down at the place where the light was situated. One connector stuck out - it had at some point been gouged out of its socket with a screwdriver, no finesse. The bulb was wrapped in a thick black cloth and was very hot. Another cockup. 

Some part of me still believes this is because I pressed them on the price. In hindsight, I should've just had an Esprit expert service the car. GP probably would have gone along with it. But my good faith and naivety got the better of me.

Looking back however, perhaps the joke is on Highline and GP Cars. It's been a reliable car, and hasn't let me down, except when I've tried to be cheap and skimp on parts (more on that in future). More concretely though, GP sold me a car with aluminium petrol tanks and header tanks, and they weren't even aware of this as a selling point. Good times.  

[ChrisJ]

Great to read ... Keep going

Chris

[marcbria]

OMG that timing belt!

[Barrykearley]

@Vanya brilliant - you should take up writing professionally 

[Vanya]

45 minutes ago, Barrykearley said:

@Vanya brilliant - you should take up writing professionally 

Hahaha I think blogs are more than enough for me.

[silverfrost]

Awesome write up.!  Gutted for you about the belt and the rest of the troubles, but on the bright side it does make a good read.....

[Mark Blanchard]

Really great write up.  You might have your ups and downs with that SE but that is one fine looking car!

[Chillidoggy]

And it's green.

[Sparky]

Well, you can't have everything.

[Vanya]

3 hours ago, Sparky said:

Well, you can't have everything.

In the case of that Norfolk Mustard S4, no not really. Why do so many of these get totalled in accidents?!!?? But my theory in life is, you CAN have your cake and eat it. If possible, buy two cakes. Have one, eat the other. Ergo V8 and Turbo SE. Although the engame is Mustard Yellow SE/S4s/S4/Sport 300 and the racing green SE. Winning combo! 

Anyhow, back to the blog.

Fast forwarding to 2016, and I'm in the midst of a cambelt change. Since I can't help but opening various cans of worms along the way, I decided I'd change the thermostat while the belt was off. Last season the old thermostat wasn't quite going up to 82 degrees at all times. Still not restricting that wonderful boost, but I could see which way the wind was blowing...

With the thermostat being a simple "drop in" installation, this was going to be a breeze. 

Was it bollocks. 

So, first things first, getting the corroded elbow off for a thorough cleaning:

Nazty:

As I loosened the bolts to the elbow, I was of two minds. One was hoping and praying that the f*****s would come out without shearing, the other was saying "HAVE AT IT!" and hoping they would, as it would give me an excuse to just pull the lump out to fix the myriad small leaks and clean the 20 years of accumulated filth of the engine and tranny. By avoiding open ended spanners, the damn things came loose without too much drama. It felt like removing the turbo to manifold bolts, which let you think you're home free before simply snapping off...

Next, how to clean up the remnants of old gasket? Honestly, I threw everything and the kitchen sink at the elbow. Eventually, soap and water did the most of the work. Unfortunately though, removing the old gasket revealed the extent of the damage that 25 years had done to the aluminium.

The engineer in me want's to take this to be machined, but then I'd have to remove the water pump as well to do that surface too. I'm hoping the new paper gasket will compensate enough to prevent leakage. Otherwise, come what come may....

Next, to remove the thermostat. Being a drop in installation, all I had to do, was gently lift it and place the new unit. Yeah right.

After about an hour of scraping around the edges using a pick tool, I realized this was going to require force. Initially, I looped a cable tie through the "eye" of the thermostate and try to pull it out that way. Surprisingly, nothing happened. The thermostat didn't even deform. I tried tapping at it (gently!) with a hammer at various angles hoping to shock it loose. No dice. 

Out came my drift set. I managed to get one of the drifts through the "eye" at the top of the old thermostat, and rocked it from side to side. 

One bent drift later, and it was time to rethink the strategy. 

A short break, and a can of freeze spray later, the thermostat decided to break free with a BANG! Turned out the trick was to freeze the damned thing, using the drift to pry back and forth. 

The new thermostat installed:

Elbow back in place (I really hope it doesn't leak!)

And to think we'd originally set out to put the timing belt back on. Another day, another lesson learned.