Staff Cars

1977 BMW 633: our shed

Electrical gremlins strike Guy's BMW. Quick and (mostly) cheap bits save the day...

 

1977 BMW 633

THE JOY OF SIX?

Having spent something akin to the national debt of a small European nation repairing my previous Shark Snout, I swore that this time I’d be a whole lot more careful. Good theory.

First up the electrical gremlins struck, in the form of power windows that would slide open and then may or may not deign to return. You’re kinda stuck with old power windows – some days you’re scared to open them in case they won’t reclose, but you also know that a lack of use contributes to their failure.

In any case, a few minutes with a screwdriver and it was easy enough to diagnose that the switches were simply falling apart through age. One company that has saved my proverbial bacon numerous times over the years is Walloth Nesch (wallothnesch.com), a parts supplier based in Germany. It took ages to work out that, while their online parts list is extensive, it’s not comprehensive. So it pays to send a photo of what you want if it’s not in the cattledog, and ask.

A few things have impressed me with their service. They picked up on the fact I’d ordered parts for a different car to the one I used to, and questioned this before sending the order. They’re also quick – I get the bits in 10 days or less – and the prices aren’t outrageous. For example, a new set of window switches, which look fiddly to manufacture – cost under $50 each by the time they landed here. They went straight in without fuss.

Next to go was the clutch master cylinder, which had developed a leak, while the slave cylinder was looking tired. They’re plumbed to the brake master, which was also on the way out. Replacement clutch cylinders cost around $200 shipped (for the set), but I couldn’t get hold of the correct right-hand-drive (and frustratingly different) brake master. The latter cost nearly $500 for the rebuild.

Really, I shouldn’t whinge, as the car has been pretty solid. The previous owner undertook the inevitable head rebuild (they seem to need it at around 220,000km) and the car has just managed an interstate trip without fuss. It’s not the quietest thing to be in – that’s a Seventies car for you – but it is fun.

 

Photography: Guy Allen

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