Ray A 1963 Porsche 356B (T6) 1600 Super 2dr Cabriolet

Jury rigging at the toll house.

I was going home on the interstate, late afternoon, cruising right along, southbound, and enjoying the drive. Stopped at the toll booth, paid my toll and stepped on the gas. Nothing! I checked the tachometer, idling nice at 800 rpm. Put my foot down again and still nothing. Of course after several attempts I realized that even if I put my foot and the gas petal through the floor, nothing was going to happen except new floorboards. I started to get out of the car and the toll collector told me to stay put and she would call a truck to get me out of there. Two things came immediately to mind. I wasn't going to have some young kid in a tow truck hook up to me. After inflicting what damage he could, he would probably tell his boss that he was called to tow a Karman Gia, or as a father told his son recently at the Porsche dealers auto show. Look at that beautiful old Jaguar. No I wasn't going to be pushed or towed by someone not in the know so I got out of the car and started to push it over to a parking area. The toll booth collector kept trying to tell me that they have procedures for that. Yea, lady, so do I! The second thing that came to mind was what could be wrong? Had the car for well over 45 years and hadn't run into this before. My male ego told me that I can fix anything wrong with the car. Male egos are almost always way over inflated. One simple success and all the failures of the past mysteriously disappear.

I parked the car in a remote part of the parking area, got out and took a look underneath. The accelerator rod was hanging loose. That made sense, but why? Upon further examination the why became obvious. There was a rubber link between the long forward part of the rod and the shorter rear part. The rubber link had female inserts that the rods screwed into and the metal worms had done their job. And they had not left anything for me.

I called my son-in-law, told him where I was and to bring a piece of stripped 12 gauge copper wire about 12 inches long and a pair of pliers or vice grips. I figured that was the price he had to pay for sleeping with my daughter.

I waited not long and saw him coming. Of course he had to go through the toll booth northbound, find a place to turn around and then go back through the toll booth southbound to get to me. Part of paying the price.

Took the wire and pliers crawled underneath and had the wire secured on each accelerator rod in short time. I started the car and the gas petal was definitely back in business. We drove off and I did not give into the need to wave or otherwise gesture good by to the toll booth operator. My old male ego confirmed it, still can fix it. My only regret was that I chose to crawl under the car. There is not much clearance and my son-law has that price to pay.

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