Rust Never Sleeps

Neil Young fans will recognise the title of this blog: it's the name of one his many excellent albums. One of my favourites in fact. It's also a line from one of the best songs from the record: My My Hey Hey. I just love the main guitar riff. It sounds like the satisfying growl of an angle grinder noisily chewing it's way through a rusty manhole cover. I thought it an apt way to start to an article in which there is going to be much talk of rust (and possibly angle grinders).

So with that in mind I thought I'd share the emerging story of the potentially financially ruinous decision we made recently. That of finally getting our 1973 DS 20/5 renovated. Those of you who have taken this step with your wear-worn classic will know this can be a process characterised by exhilarating highs and shocking lows.  As I write, I'm in the latter category. When Neil Young sings that 'rust never sleeps' he's bang on the money but the oxidisation you're about to encounter is of the wide-awake, hopped-up-on-super-strength-Red-Bull variety. You have been warned...

Looks good doesn't she (from a distance)

The reputation of the DS as being a rust bucket is well known. Legendary in fact. The build-quality of old school Citroens was far from good. No matter how much innovation the Citroen engineers designed into their cars, it simply did not feed through into the construction and longevity of the final products which is a disappointing paradox. To be fair, I was aware of this when I bought our D eight or so years ago but with its South African heritage I'd hoped this wouldn't be as great an issue. It was a forlorn hope I'm afraid.

You see, like an ageing French Madame, the DS hides it's imperfections very well. Even the most pukka looking D, with good paint and solid mechanicals, can be hiding some eye-opening surprises when she coyly lifts her skirts to reveal the fundaments that lie beneath. When covers are removed, trim detached and seals are pried away the concealed evidence of the advancing years are insouciantly laid bare.  And the D just looks innocently back at you and bats its eyelashes as if to say: 'well what did you expect?'

Voila le corrosion

Therefore, as our D was towed off to Graham Morton Vehicle Services in Holmbridge I knew that a roller coaster ride of emotions, financial calculations and budget-stretching decision-making lay ahead. It would be a constant battle between the penny pinching of the rational head and the pleadings of the emotional heart.

To be fair, I wasn't totally ignorant of our D's issues.  The rotten roof rail needs extensive repair to stop it leaking on my leg on rainy days. The paint on the fibreglass roof is pitted and crazed and the inner headlining has extensive foxing from winter condensation.  The clutch is paper-thin and pressure plate replacement on a DS is a BIG job necessitating removal of the engine. It's also prudent to upgrade brake pads and other hoses when the clutch is changed whilst good access is available. Add to that the flaky door seals and the bases of the a b and c pillars which are all in a bad way and the bill is never going to be modest.

C Pillar and back shelf - C meaning corrosion

That's quite a list I'm sure you'll agree. However, with my eyes fully open, I knew it would inevitably expand a bit.  The plan was to get the car structurally sound - nice and solid underneath - and deal with the bubbling exterior paint in the future once we'd recovered from these necessary foundational expenses. What transpired was a little more than I had hoped for. 

Examine the photos and you can see the rear sections of the car are as 'rotten as a peach' as the saying goes. The C pillars and rear shelf including seat belt mountings are a symphony of oxidisation, holier than the Pope's colander no less. 'The worst I've seen but don't panic' said Graham Morton as brightly as he could. 'Oh' I said, rather less enthusiastically. 

The passenger side wing disintegrated on removal and was declared beyond economic repair. And in a battle between a probing screwdriver and the left-side sill, the latter lost at every thrust. The water pump had signs of leaking coolant around its seals signalling imminent failure and the rear bumper mounts wilted under relatively little pressure.

Bumper Mounting and boot aperture. Suitable only for rust transport

It was a distressing litany of corrosion, mechanical issues, cost and my ever-increasing alarm at how unsound the car actually is. One small issue was a badly melted wire in the core loom due to some previously botched repairs and a weak earth.  It could have easily caused a fire resulting in the total loss of the car.  By this stage, a fire actually seemed the very best option where the evidence of the car's issues would be resolved by the sorry, but infinitely cheaper, spectacle of a blackened car chassis sitting on a roadside somewhere.

So there you have it. A tale of woe and no mistake.  How will this sorry saga resolve? Will the DS20/5 live to fight another day? Has it already been sold cheaply, towed away to be scavenged for parts?  Maybe there will be a follow up blog with better news or merely an obituary for another classic that has finally broken its exasperated owner.  We shall see...