It all began at the Glen – turn one of my last on track session. I stepped on the clutch as I was braking, beginning my shift down two gears just prior to turn in. I pushed the shift lever forward but I couldn’t find my gear. So I tried pushing again, and again nothing. I quickly checked my mirrors again to make sure no one was closing rapidly, thankfully no one was near. As my heart rate went up I thought about what all of my PCA driver instructors over the years had told me to do when something doesn’t go as planned – don’t panic!
I kept my 944 S2 on line through the corner so as not to do anything too abruptly. Once I exited the corner I pulled off line. I continued to try and find a gear as I was coasting down the hill. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill I still hadn’t found a gear and now I realized there was no place to pull my car off track! As I came to a stop I whacked the shift lever forward as hard I could, partly out of frustration and partly out of desperation. This time it worked. I had found first gear! I checked my mirrors and looked for a flagger. No cars in sight so I slowly pulled forward limping back to pit lane. I managed to force my way up to third gear by the time I got to the bus stop.
I pulled into the paddock and my crew chief (my father) asked how my run was and I told him what happened. We looked under the hood and under the car and found nothing that looked out of place so we took the car for a short drive around the paddock. Shifting was difficult but nowhere near as bad as it was in turn one. As I debated if I should drive all the way back to New Hampshire with this problem or hire a wrecker my father offered me a tow. He unloaded his racecar car and loaded my car. He towed me seven hours home, spent the night and then drove back to the Glen to pick up his car and drive home to Virginia. Can you say Father of the Year! Thanks again Dad.
After consultation with everyone I know and some I didn’t, I concluded my clutch was shot. It was fitted with the older, rubber center clutch and this was textbook symptoms of failure. After pricing out a clutch job I decided I would try to do this myself (“myself” actually means with the help of a half dozen Porsche Club members, my father and a certified mechanic).
A friend offered her garage equiped with a car lift, and another offered his transmission jack and still many others offered ideas and strategies. Next my father came back to NH specifically to help with the job. I prepped the car a bit before he arrived by removing the exhaust and some other miscellaneous parts. My father had consulted with his mechanic Robert in Williamsburg, VA prior to visiting. Robert actually loaned us some tools and extra parts that he thought we would need, and boy did we need them! He also made himself available via phone for questions.
My father and I spent two full days under, inside and on top of my car before he had to leave. I was able to finish the job the following weekend in a couple of hours. The job required more patience and muscle than technical ability. Once you get everything apart it really only goes back together one way. Just make sure you connect your ground wires correctly if you want the car to start – ask me how I know some time.
I really want to thank everybody who helped – Judy, Edgar, Robert and especially my father. I saved a ton of money doing it by ‘myself’ and learned a whole lot about my car.