I Gambled on a Project Corvette and Rolled a Winning Seven

Buying any project car is a gamble. The reason we buy derelict or needy modes of transportation is the foolish belief that we can return a broken hulk to a functional object. When the first step is buying something broken, the odds are not in our favor that simple solutions will prevail. Problems will compound and appear mercilessly with no regard for calendar or bank account. It requires fortitude to march on through the project-car slog. Though I have marched that path many times, the day I towed home my latest four-wheeled bad idea was joyous. I was still optimistic that getting this Corvette running might be a series of easy fixes.

Could the project be so simple?

I purchased this 1985 Corvette on a lark, without diagnosing it properly. The previous owner had admitted to installing a new battery but had also stated the car had zero power—turn the ignition key, and nothing would happen. Even before sending my offer to buy the car, I had my suspicions as to what the cause of the no-start might be, but since the diagnosis was not going to affect my decision to purchase the car, I spent no time looking at that problem when first inspecting it.

Standing in the driveway at home, the real games began. First thing was to disconnect the battery and inspect the terminals, which revealed a loose connection on the positive side. Side-post batteries solve some problems, but it sure would be nice if we could figure out reliable connections on these things. The battery came in at just 9 volts on a multimeter test, so the culprit was likely a dead cell. Before heading to the parts store, I figured it was worth connecting a charger and waiting to see what happened.

A Battery Tender connected overnight brought voltage up enough that some of the car came to life. The digital dash lit up when I turned the key and I could hear the fuel pump cycling when the rest of the car powered up. I did a quick check of the oil to make sure I wasn’t going to try to start a dry engine and end up with a pile of scrap metal from my own stupidity. Oil was ugly but present, so I turned the key and . . .

The engine fired right up. I was so taken aback that I shut the key right back off. I was not prepared for this situation. Could life be so easy?

In short, yes. Even over the non-factory exhaust I could hear the root of the dead battery problem. The power antenna mast had broken and the motor was endlessly spinning in its attempt to put up and take down the aerial when the car powered up and down. Further investigation revealed that said motor could be unplugged easily at a connection near the latch for the rear hatch, another thing that now worked since the car could power up.

What does one do with a newly running car? If you answered, “Pause and properly investigate the other systems before attempting a drive through the neighborhood,” I have a lot of respect for you. We all know that’s what we should do, but I couldn’t resist. I slid behind the wheel so fast and let out the clutch so slow.

Both the clutch fluid and the brake fluid had revealed differing shades of mud, so I knew pedal feel would be terrible, but pushing on the brake pedal had brought the car to a stop when rolling off the trailer. If I stuck to similar speeds, I should be okay. The dash was lit up in the most exciting and also the most frustrating way: All the quadrants of the very 1980s digital dash were alive, and most were giving some version of a warning or alert. The charging system was now overcharging, fuel was on reserve, and oil pressure was spiking for seemingly no reason.

In my excitement to buy the car, I never asked the seller how long it had been sitting. Only now was it sinking into my brain that I hadn’t bought a driving project which only recently had an issue but rather a poorly stored car that had been parked with some issues and then surrendered recently after only weak attempts at revival. I still took the Corvette for a drive around the neighborhood, and I was not surprised when the temp gauge read 235 degrees after the engine had only run for a few minutes. It was stumbling, and just about everything with a pivot had some resistance to motion beyond what any engineer would ever tolerate.

Over the next few days, each time I started the engine, drove up and down the driveway, or even dared a lap of the neighborhood, some component or system would work correctly again. Even when I installed a new battery, alternator, and water pump, I took extra steps to leave well enough alone. What would fail? More importantly, what would be the last thing to come back to life? My fingers are crossed that the overdrive—that quirky “+3” portion of the Doug Nash 4+3 transmission in this Corvette—will return. The seller had told me straight that it no longer worked, which was unsurprising if mildly disappointing. However, he had also said the car was dead and might not be worth saving. I knew he meant no malice, but perhaps he wasn’t as trustworthy as I had initially thought. Because this car absolutely is not dead.

In order to really see if the overdrive might come back to life, I need to put more miles on this car, and a smart man fixes the brakes before doing such a thing. A quick pull of all four calipers to grease the slide pins and inspect the pads helped, but flushing the fluid and replacing it with fresh DOT3 made the whole system feel new again. It is amazing how the slow degradation of things like brake fluid lure drivers into neglecting service even longer. The brakes still worked with the mud in the lines, and if one only drove this car, and only a couple times a year in the nice weather, they might chalk the sad performance up to age. “That’s just how old cars drive” is often used as a cover-up for poor maintenance.

I’ve learned a few workarounds for the Corvette that are fun, like leaving the air conditioning on to trick the ECU into running the auxiliary cooling fan and thus help to control underhood temps. Those tricks remind me that it’s been a while since I brought home a project that I researched this lightly. The car and I are both getting up to speed together. Ours is sort of a symbiotic relationship, unlike the other projects I tend to buy. When I’m done with my attempts at reviving machines, they usually resemble Frankenstein’s monsters.

As a final update, I snagged a set of fifth-generation Corvette “wagon wheels” from Facebook Marketplace and four tires from Tire Rack to round out the safety refresh of the car. Now I think I’m just going to drive it for a bit and see what happens. This is no Cobra, but I am already finding myself recalling lines from Tom Cotter’s book, The Cobra in the Barn, regarding how it might feel if or when the engine stops smoking on startup.

What if this turns out to be the best (or is it the worst?) project car ever? Charging the battery, unplugging something, and flushing the brakes isn’t exactly heavy lifting for me, but that might be OK. I’m enjoying driving this stock Corvette for the time being, though I don’t think I’ll leave it that way for long. And I do want to see if the overdrive system starts working.

Really, I feel as though I’m gambling on house money now, because this running and driving car owes me nothing.