Citroën CX
James solves teething troubles during lockdown
As anticipated last month, the first few miles in my CX threw up some faults. On passing its first MOT since 1996, the car initially ran well and as it hit the road for the first time, I was delighted to discover that two years of hard work had paid off. However, the subsequent test runs revealed a steadily worsening misfire. It had become particularly noticeable on tickover and felt like it was, at worse, running on fewer than all four of its cylinders. And then it would go away, and everything would run perfectly again. I did the usu al tests and everything – from plugs to HT leads and hoses – all checked out just fine.
That particular fault-finding effort would have to wait, though. Just days after the MOT, I filled the car with its very first tank of super unleaded and a significant proportion promptly bubbled back out again. It wasn’t a catastrophic failure – just a pool of petrol on top of the tank – but it was enough for me to put the fire extinguisher on standby while I drained the car of fuel. It was especially confusing because two years before, with help from m’colleague Clive Jefferson, we’d had the tank out and completely refurbished it.
The culprit was immediately revealed on removal of the tank. The top of the sender unit, made of finest fragile French plastic, had cracked and split open. Clearly, the past 35 years hadn’t been kind, the decent looking outer casing hiding aged internals. Once upon a time, I’d have been concerned about finding a replacement, but I picked up the Stan Platts Hotline and was soon awaiting delivery of a new old stock sender unit. ‘I wasn’t sure if I had one, so it must have been in my attic for years!’ The entire home of CX specialist Stan is part house, part CX museum.
Running problem
New sender fitted and tank replaced, just after Christmas my focus returned to the misfire. Not wishing to tempt fate, and as much as I’d love to fill the fuel tank and hammer up and down the A1 for a day, I figured it’d be wiser to continue the series of regular local test drives – a short circular route in the countryside around the town where I live. Before one such test drive on a Saturday morning, I started up the car and dropped the spare wheel back into its carrier under the bonnet. Suddenly, the revs dropped and then… three cylinders. Or, possibly just two. The car sounded more like my nearby 2CV. Suspicious, I lifted out the spare wheel and, oddly, the missing cylinders returned.
I buried my head deep into the recess and noticed a piece of what looked like sound proofing beneath the wheel carrier and below that, just dangling there, a multi-pin connector. One end disappeared into the wiring loom, while the rest of the wires could be followed on a path to the fuel injectors. Closer inspection of the block revealed four aged, scummy-looking wires that were barely connecting. Engine running, I gentle waggled them, et voila! And whatever ‘Bingo!’ is in French.
Sparked up
Aware that I’m no automotive electrician, I got stuck into some back issues of Practical Classics in order to improve my skills. Having taken delivery of some new multi-pin plugs, I spent a few nights practicing my strip and crimp technique using old bits of wire on my living room coffee table. Once confident, I headed out to the garage one afternoon and did the job properly. These teething troubles had mercifully surfaced before England went into its third lockdown, so I was able to continue a few gentle test drives on the usual routes, before abiding by government restrictions and staying at home. With all my plans for early 2021 cancelled or postponed, this new lockdown would at least give me something meaningful to do during the inactive weekends to come. I’ve so far managed just 160 miles in my restored CX so, just like you, I’m looking forward to the day when we can all drive just that little bit further.