a story about sumps
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From: Cork ,Ireland.
saw this on an irish site , thought it was good....
Picture poor little Timmy if you will, he has spent everything he can scrape together to pay a close friend to build an engine that would wake the living dead, all singing, all dancing 10,500rpm screamer. The engine cost a fortune to put together, but he's happy as his rwd escort is leaving everybody in his class for dead. As time goes on confidence grows and so does Timmy's speed. On his home event he's clearly winning his class and decices to push for overall honours. The navigator is screaming for a long easy right and to lift off but Timmy knows the bend well and decides nothing less than warp speed will do.
He drops a gear and floors it. The spectators are hanging out of the ditches roaring and waving him on.
Halfway through the bend the navigator is squeezing himself into the seat sure the tyres are going to give up. But its in the sump that the start of Timmys misery and bankruptsy is begining.
Unknown to Timmy all the oil in the sump has been pushed up against against the side wall by the G force of the turn, and sitting proudly over the other side of the sump is the oil pick up pipe, sucking up some lovely fresh air instead of oil. Before you can blink an eye the conrod of number 3 cylinder decides he won't be treated in this fashion, if there's to be no oil he's not hanging around and promptly decides to make a break for glory, out through the side of the block. Piston number two quickly realises that the end is near and in somewhat sadistic fashion decides that if he's going, he's going to take a few of those valves with him. In a tear jearking act of solidarity the timing belt also decides that enough is enough and mass suicide is the only option left and as such decides to snap an destroy all remaining valves and pistons.
Back inside the wagon Timmy gets a breif warning that theres some mechanical disharmony going on below as the oil light flashes on, just before the engine locks up and locks the rear wheels. Timmy's next few minutes are something of a blur as the rear of the car try's desperatly to overtake the front and in the process decides that more room is needed for this tricky manover.
So without further adue the car launches up and over the ditch and rolls 3 times.
Back inside the engine the oil has now kindly returned to its rightfull position and proceeded up the pick up pipe and to its total suprise finds some large gapeing holes in the engine it's supposed to be lubricating. As seems to be the going trend by now, the oil also decides to make a break for freedom out through the hole only to be confronted by a red hot exhaust manifold. The oil now realising that its usefull life has now ended decides to go out in a blaze of glory, literally, and ignites setting fire to a large portion of Timmy's pride and joy.
It was to be somewhat later that month when Timmy was removed from suicide watch, that his friend taught it was safe enough to explain to him that if he had fitted a dry sump system which used a pump to pump a constant supply of oil from a catch tank in the boot to the engine and return it again, that his engine would have never run out of oil no matter how hard he drove the car.
Picture poor little Timmy if you will, he has spent everything he can scrape together to pay a close friend to build an engine that would wake the living dead, all singing, all dancing 10,500rpm screamer. The engine cost a fortune to put together, but he's happy as his rwd escort is leaving everybody in his class for dead. As time goes on confidence grows and so does Timmy's speed. On his home event he's clearly winning his class and decices to push for overall honours. The navigator is screaming for a long easy right and to lift off but Timmy knows the bend well and decides nothing less than warp speed will do.
He drops a gear and floors it. The spectators are hanging out of the ditches roaring and waving him on.
Halfway through the bend the navigator is squeezing himself into the seat sure the tyres are going to give up. But its in the sump that the start of Timmys misery and bankruptsy is begining.
Unknown to Timmy all the oil in the sump has been pushed up against against the side wall by the G force of the turn, and sitting proudly over the other side of the sump is the oil pick up pipe, sucking up some lovely fresh air instead of oil. Before you can blink an eye the conrod of number 3 cylinder decides he won't be treated in this fashion, if there's to be no oil he's not hanging around and promptly decides to make a break for glory, out through the side of the block. Piston number two quickly realises that the end is near and in somewhat sadistic fashion decides that if he's going, he's going to take a few of those valves with him. In a tear jearking act of solidarity the timing belt also decides that enough is enough and mass suicide is the only option left and as such decides to snap an destroy all remaining valves and pistons.
Back inside the wagon Timmy gets a breif warning that theres some mechanical disharmony going on below as the oil light flashes on, just before the engine locks up and locks the rear wheels. Timmy's next few minutes are something of a blur as the rear of the car try's desperatly to overtake the front and in the process decides that more room is needed for this tricky manover.
So without further adue the car launches up and over the ditch and rolls 3 times.
Back inside the engine the oil has now kindly returned to its rightfull position and proceeded up the pick up pipe and to its total suprise finds some large gapeing holes in the engine it's supposed to be lubricating. As seems to be the going trend by now, the oil also decides to make a break for freedom out through the hole only to be confronted by a red hot exhaust manifold. The oil now realising that its usefull life has now ended decides to go out in a blaze of glory, literally, and ignites setting fire to a large portion of Timmy's pride and joy.
It was to be somewhat later that month when Timmy was removed from suicide watch, that his friend taught it was safe enough to explain to him that if he had fitted a dry sump system which used a pump to pump a constant supply of oil from a catch tank in the boot to the engine and return it again, that his engine would have never run out of oil no matter how hard he drove the car.
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8 litres
