The familiar click of the ratcheting spanner gives way to a dull thud as the supercharger’s frame comes off the front of the engine. Like some cursed relic from comic books, the blower was at once the source of the Zed’s power, but also provided much frustration. Now, as I clean excess oil from the intercooler piping and pack all the last nuts and bolts neatly away, labelled and ready for their new owner, I wonder whether I’ve made the right decision.
Like everyone, the past nine years has provided its fair share of ups-and-downs and the Zed has been my constant companion, outliving girlfriends, homes, the financial crisis, the divorce of my parents, the fall and rise of our small business and the list goes on. Throughout the whole time, the Zed has been there, ever present, mostly ready when called upon.
Almost every little part of the car has a story. As I struggle to remove the camber arms I think about having purchased them from my now good friend Silas, who was parting out his own Zed way back in 2007. I curse as I accidentally punch the chassis when the nut comes loose, cutting my knuckle open, about the millionth it has happened to me while working on the Zed. It’s not really your car until you bleed all over it.
As the years progress, I drive the Zed less and less. This year it was barely a handful of times, mostly at the track. At the car’s level of modification, it should really be a track-only car, but I’ve always believed that you should be able to drive your car anywhere, any time. The policing climate also leaves a lot to be desired, and I’m forever checking my mirrors, waiting to get pulled over.
Some time later and the standard intake is back in. The entire house smells of fuel because I’ve swapped the injectors and the original ECU is almost ready to be connected back. My buddy Dan is always telling me off for being messy when I’m working on cars. I guess it’s rubbed off a little as I put all my tools back where they belong, and any bolts go into labelled zip-lock bags. Pretty soon it’ll be time to see if the car turns over in naturally-aspirated mode.
I unplug the Haltech engine management and give the standard ECU back control of fuel and timing. Jumping into the driver’s seat and the moment of truth…I turn the ignition and she fires first time, eventually settling to a smooth idle.
I guess everyone who loves cars reaches this crossroad. I’ve tried distracting myself by buying more cars, making grand track-excursion plans (that often fall in a heap) and even ignoring the fact that it’s a lot of money tied up in something I don’t really use, but in the end it’s just like they say; the journey is the reward and the friends I’ve made, the things I’ve learned, the experiences I’ve had, all around this car, will stay with me forever. Like they say in the songs; great loves will one day have to part. But is it really the end, or just another beginning?
Kammo.Reloaded 