Ruthless test drive. — Toyota Corolla, 1.5 liter, 1986

We're finally home, me and my heroic 4 wheeler friend, my white girl.

Just as it is, in its terrible state after the purchase, without performing any necessary actions (such as at least changing the pads and the battery),
we drove a total of 400 km, of which 40-50 kilometers through the tank range, grader and forest.

I decided on this adventure, being misinformed on the subject of distance.
I was told that I had to go piisat km from the city.
Well, yes, I thought, she will definitely drive a hundred kilometers back and forth.
When I found out that there was much, much more, it was already too late -
we had already left St. Petersburg.
I would have known in advance, I would never have decided, my car is of course an old wreck, as many say, but EPT.
This is my car, it's the only one I have and I feel very, very, very sorry for it - to scoff like that without even doing the maintenance it needs.
But she's great. I let her down once in Sestroretsk, but purely because of a lousy battery, and not because she herself is so old and such a ruin.
We're still on the run :)

I drove in one face around the training ground, everything was as it should be - on the sand at speed, in order to feel how the front-wheel drive wears an ass,
in a turn on a primer with a skid, through pits, in order to realize how to drive through them without catching the bottom and plugs and typa .
It seems to understand how it is - to ride a puzoter, not a jeep.
We are generally friends with my girl, yeah. :))

The opinion of the riding men: there are no brakes. There are brakes, but they are too uninformative.
I wonder why when I drive, I have them and they are quite informative, despite the old pads?
I somehow feel immediately when it is necessary to start braking on it, so that all the speed reduction occurs calmly, and the stop is on time ...
Although it is possible to ride with men, this male condescension, like a woman behind the wheel, I also feel it and involuntarily begin to make mistakes.
By the way, how many traveled with Dementy, this was not the case.

In general, boys with such old cars do not stand on ceremony, all the losses that happened to me happened due to inattention and indifference. In particular, when loading their backpacks into my granny, they tore off the wire from one of the speakers (the old owner somehow fiercely laid music for her, through the trunk, with preparation for a subwoofer), and hooked the left turn signal, now it blinks hysterically fast. I don’t know what’s up with the racks and suspension, after all these holes, which, again, were collected by the boy who steered my girl before St. Petersburg, I have the right ek ...

Then we got together and moved a column of 4 cars home. The way back was a separate adventure.
From the lake to the asphalt, I drove through the checkpoint. At the exit to the asphalt, our column hung, because the Saab broke the wheel.
I did not turn off my baby, remembering perfectly well our battery pens, put her in the parking lot and went into the woods, well, you understand why.
While I was walking, a boy with a license got behind the wheel, turned off the engine and did not turn off the headlights (the same mistake from which it died out with Psy and me last time at the MREO).
In general, when we decided to move, it was not possible to start. I had to smoke from Nexia.

We flew to Sestroretsk normally, but there was already a traffic jam.
A traffic jam in which the engine lost momentum and we stalled.
They voted, the good uncle stopped at something big, lit a cigarette from him, drove another hundred meters in a traffic jam and again - the speed dropped, it died out.
They voted again, eventually stopped the shah, they stupidly gave us their battery, wound up with it, changed their battery back to ours on the clock (that's when they were tossed and hooked on my left turn signal).
And here I am, with my foot on the gas, and I'm afraid to let it go, because the speed drops and it starts to stall.
We sat like that for about half an hour, thinking about how we can start, the box is automatic, we need to let off the gas, press the brake, turn on the drive and then go.
But let go of the gas, let's stall!
Finally it dawned on us.
A boy with a license landed back behind the wheel, by stepping on my foot on the gas, I smoothly pulled my foot out from under his boot (aaaaa, I always drive barefoot, aaaaaaaaaaa!),
jumped into the passenger seat, the boy sat down, gasped deliciously, spun the engine up to six thousand revolutions (almost a red zone),
and while the revolutions were falling, he quickly threw off the gas, pressed the brake, turned on the e and we drove off.
According to the kadu, it’s fine, it’s midnight, it’s free, we fly ourselves and fly without dropping.
In the city it was already more difficult - traffic lights. From a distance you look that it’s red, you slow down and roll slowly, slowly, watching the revolutions,
as they fall - gas, gas, there jerkily until the green signal turns on and roll, bgygygygyyg.
I stroked my old woman on the tidy and asked: little one, well, hold on to the house, and there we will buy you a new battery, and we will fix you, you will be as good as new ...

She pulled through. It died out when we had already parked.

Now my heroic girlfriend is standing in the yard, slightly dusty after the grader, waiting for Sanya to come and take her to sort out, repair, change her oil.
If only the current didn’t kill the box for me with all these manipulations, I remember a sharp cut-in of the parking lot on the go, when we were already slowing down, but had not yet had time to stop.
I understand, of course, that I have a rusty dumb prulny insignificance and there is nothing to feel sorry for her, but your mother. Buy yourself the same nonentity and kill the hated machine gun on it, and I still have to live with Chrysanthemum and ride it.
I am personally pleased with her, and she seems to me too - while I was driving, I had no problems with her. And I don't think it will. She is a very female machine, this Corolla is light, sharp control, everything is intuitively felt and understandable, again, reliability, and there is only one requirement: carelessly and carefully handled. She does not tolerate rudeness and neglect at her age.
Here's another strange thing: the person who drove her could not feel where her left wheels were, and stubbornly collected holes with them. This is the second Toyota that I am driving, and I can say that for me personally, all the wheels and dimensions of Toyotas begin to be felt immediately, as soon as you take the wheel and go. I understand that Rav has such a topic, he is more or less fresh, but I expected the worst from my grandmother, but here you are.
Everything is simple with old Japanese women: tenderness and care, care and tenderness, and she can run through me for another 23 years.
Well, since I don’t understand how there is something to repair and top up, I take care of it in terms of cleanliness - I wipe everything, scrub, polish, and eliminate the srach left by the previous owner.
A knowledgeable person, one might say, a doctor, will take care of my girl’s body itself: ))))) And so I, a make-up artist and her friend: )))))

Loss counting: wires, wires, wires... the reversing lights are off (hello, backpacks!), one speaker is not humming (hello, fucking backpacks!), the left turn signal is flashing hysterically. The battery does not count, it was a corpse at the time of purchase. After it was discharged for the first time, I charged it, it was discharged because of the headlights for the second time, which means that it’s not about my typewriter, no. It is not known what is with the racks. Dextron is leaking out of the box, but not critical, the last time they topped up on July 9 and since then they haven’t climbed there, only the dipstick on the lake where they went to rest was taken out, the level of course drops, but not so horribly.

In general, she is a machine with character. Mine starts and runs. For all the others, it stalls, there are no brakes, the dimensions are not felt, and everything is in the same vein. He wants to ride with me, but he doesn’t want to go with anyone else, you have to persuade him :))))))

That's it, no more boys with conceit behind the wheel of my old woman, otherwise I won't have anything to restore later, everyone will be rattled, Herods.