It finally happened: my first breakdown. I'm currently stranded on a
busy thoroughfare in Baltimore.

I had just rounded an exit ramp, uphill and the engine sputtered to
stop. I am low on fuel and the previous owner had indicated that the
fuel gauge is untrustworthy when it's low.

I put two gallons in and it still won't start. I had my wife crank the
engine while I checked a couple of things. Fuel pump runs. Nothing
else obvious comes to mind. Perhaps a clogged fuel line if it was
sucking debris.

Waiting for a tow truck now to carry me a mile and a half home.

In a peculiar coincidence, minutes after I came to a stop, a grey
Westy drove blithely by me. I expect it is one of perhaps four
Vanagons I've ever seen in Balto.

I feel strangely honored to be a part of the legions of stranded
Vanagon drivers all over the world.

Mordo

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mordo
1990 Carat