Sanford, FL, 32771

(Previous: Driving to Sanford)

We headed north, and wound up a short time later at the Best Western Marina Hotel & Conference Center. American Express gives this place three stars, AAA two diamonds, and Mobil one star. In reality it is a dump -- the bathroom door was rotted at the bottom, the towel rack fell off the wall, and the vanity was literally falling apart -- but the staff were extraordinarily friendly and helpful.

The place isn't really a resort, except in that it's next to a lake and a marina. It's a motel, a classic American two-story motel with room doors opening to the outside. The windows didn't open at all, so if you wanted fresh air -- after giving up on the wheezing ventilation system -- you had to open the door. The general trim of the room was just a notch or two above the Motel-6 level. The TV was regular cable (which is actually better than the awful hotel service most places have), but there was no guide available to the 60 channels. The carpet was thin and industrial, the chairs were uncomfortable, and when the bathmat got wet it turned black on the underside from the dirt on the floor.

I can understand the challenges of running such a place, though, and ultimately the bed was comfortable (though no extra pillows were available) and the water pressure good. It wasn't worth the $71 per night rate (itself a serious discount), though, and it certainly doesn't deserve those stars and diamonds and yellow horseshoes.

We parked outside the hotel office and registered. When we got back into the car and headed off to the other side of the property (it's the kind of place where you park right outside your room), we got our next surprise.

(See note on onomatopoeia)

I started the car: Whizzzz-grunk-hummahummahummahummahummahumma. I shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space: Clonk-bubbabubbabubbabubbabubba. I then shifted into drive.

Oh, you other poor souls with ADO16 cars know what happened next, don't you?

That's right: Clonk-humma-BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.

It seems that when the Tire King put the car on the lift, he bent up the exhaust pipe just a bit (see photo). There was a clamped joint about halfway back, and a missing hanger to boot. The stress from the lift was just the last straw. When I put the car into drive with the engine warm, it rocked just a bit too much and pulled the exhaust pipe right apart. I managed to jack the car up (a passerby lent me a fairly nice jack, so I had two, for safety) and fit the pipes back together. Some duct tape supplied by the front desk completed the repair.

Later that evening, we went out to Burger King to get something to eat. Since we were initially searching for a Waffle House, we wound up driving around a bit. The duct-taped exhaust performed perfectly until I again put the car into drive when leaving the Burger King, at which point it came apart again.

This time, I had to drive a couple of miles with wide-open exhaust and with the muffler dragging on the pavement and throwing sparks -- and this with a giant Union Jack on the roof. Perhaps I can get the Royal Society of Automotive Engineers to pay me to keep this thing off the road, in order to protect their reputation.

The next morning, when I again inspected the underside of the car, I found no trace of the duct tape. None at all. Amazing.

I managed to get some wire coat hangers from the hotel's maintenance and wire-hanger staff, and proceeded to effect a fairly solid repair which has not yet failed.

We checked out at noon and drove to Steak n Shake in order to test the wire hanger repair. It held through several drive-gear-induced jolts of the exhaust system, so we delivered the car into the hands of the Auto Train people. It was a bit embarrassing, because by this point the rear brakes were making this awful squealing noise -- not unlike a train -- when the car came to a halt. (I later determined that this was the last gasp of the handbrake cable, which had jammed. The Amtrak people later thoughtfully broke the thing entirely, leaving the rear brakes silent and the parking brake nonexistent. Good thing the Austin comes with a factory-spec chock!)

Nearly all of the cars being loaded onto the train were Old People Cars -- Buicks, Cadillacs, big Mercedeses, and the like. Few were more than a few years old.

And then come Tino and Nicole, sitting four inches off the ground and three inches below a giant Union Jack, with the exhaust system held together with wire hangers, the ignition held together with paper clips, and the brakes going Groonk Grooonk Grooooonk Squeeeeeee.

The Auto Train people left the Austin in the parking lot until all the other cars had been loaded. I suspect they may have had some confusion about how to start the thing:

Next: Auto Train and Home

Note on onomatopoeia: It has come to my attention that some people believe that the noises I represent here illustrate a car that's not running well. This is not the case.

'Whizz' is the sound of the starter spinning up and the Bendix gear getting moving.

'Gronk' is the sound of the Bendix gear hitting the ring gear on the flywheel.

'Hummahummahumma' etc. is the sound of an A-series engine happily running in neutral.

'Bubbabubbabubba' etc. is the sound of the same engine with the automatic transmission in gear and the car not moving.

'Clonk' is the sound of the slight rotational play in the differential and CV joints being taken up as the transmission is put in gear. It also represents the sound of the engine being bounced around by the same force.

'BRAAAAAAAAP' is the sound of wide-open exhaust.

Note that there is no noise representing the engine cranking before it starts; this is because, with the choke properly set, the engine starts instantly.

As a special bonus, here's the sound of my blue Porsche, with Webers and no chokes, starting in the morning: Whirrgronk whummwhummawhummawhummawhummabubbwhumma bubba pop pop whum bubba bubb bubb bubb pop pop pop bubbbbbbbbbbbbb pop pop pop pop pop pop bubba bubba bubba bubba bubba bubba. At this point, the car is running (but you don't get much power without really putting your foot in) and there's a huge cloud of smoke behind you. Give it another minute or two and it's pretty well warmed up.

Now go back where from you came.