``Again confused.'' tfast
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I think you thought I was describing a motorcycle. Since I was writing drunk stream of conscieous style, an easy mistake.
I am still sober at the moment, so. Let's start over. I was describing a German car made by Borgward. They used 2cl/2cy engines for their smaller, prol line brand called Goliath which included a three wheel minivan, a four wheel minivan, a two door coupe, and a two door station wagon. These all used the same engine mounted on a front wheel drive transmission/differential. In other words, the Goliath had the same basic configuration that a lot of smaller cars in the 80-90s used, like Honda's. Go here:
http://www.borgward-oldie.de/Fotogalerie/Goliath_GP900.jpg
Borgward also made the more luxurious line for the bourgois called the Isabella. These cars had an in-line six, cast iron block and aluminum head. Isabella's duplicated their smaller Goliath line, offering a two door coupe, a two door station wagon, along with a sports version and a convertible. The car I mentioned I got in Berkeley was a two door Isabella coupe.
Anyway, what made a Borgward interesting besides its weird engineering was the company stopped exporting them to the US just about the time I started driving it. I always thought it was because they were made in East Germany and blamed my struggles on the cold war bullshit. But Bremen was then in the allied zone, so I was wrong all those years of grumbling about parts.
Whatever the reason for the hault on cars and parts, my stepfather's solution was to take me on roaming tours of LA auto junk yards on the look out for Goliaths. When I burned out the engine in the coup, going downhill at something like 85+ mph, and ceased the engine, we went on Saturday morning treks out in the industrial areas of the Valley, mainly Burbank, San Fernando, Sun Valley, and Van Nynes. We found a station wagon with an engine that could be rebuilt. My coup had a thrown rod because I was too stupid to turn it off when it started that heavy, deep hammering sound. So after a rebuild., me and my second stepfather put the engine back in the station wagon. The coup was pushed into a horse stable to collect spiders, dust, and turkey feathers from the turkey ranch behind us.
Dot, dot, dot. A year or so later, I rolled the wagon, ruining the body. So we pulled the coupe out of stable and put the station wagon engine in the coupe. I was back on the road again. Black sweater, gauloise, and a cheesy radio playing Ray Charles.
(To be continued on another post and thread...)
CG
