Life throws circumstances at you, and suddenly everything changes. You commit to a long-distance relationship. It’ll just be a few months, and things will be fine when you get back. Only, the space between you grows faster than you expected, and you find yourself aching to get home so everything can go back to normal. But normal is gone, and you have to reckon with a new reality.
Oh, we’re talking about my dream car. The Audi TT. The turbo all-wheel-drive roadster that I always deserved. It had my love from the start. Then the realities of my new life started coming between us. I’d moved to the inner city, and wasn’t driving much. There wasn’t a lot of call for top-down joyrides, and the Audi’s plates lapsed. I had to port it over to register in a new state, and it all got lost in the holiday shuffle. Then fifteen other non-automotive things happened.
Ultimately, the Audi would sit for three months. I couldn’t take it any longer, and in February, I finally blessed it with new plates and a fresh tank of fuel. I looked forward to that first drive, but it was well short of what I’d hoped for.
Bad Vibrations
I might have been busy, but I wasn’t totally careless during my Audi’s sabbatical. I ran the engine once a month just to keep the battery charged and the juices flowing. Each time it started up with ease. Despite being a German car from the early 2000s, there were no parasitic draws to ruin my day. Given its fine attitude, I foresaw no issues when I deigned to put it back on the road. In the meantime, my partner’s Toyota was getting me around, and I felt no need to rush.
Eventually, though, my enthusiast itch needed to be scratched. I booked the relevant appointments, did the paperwork, and my Audi bid farewell to its former hometown. The extortionate fees of Australian bureaucracy aside, I was feeling buoyant. I couldn’t wait to hear turbo noises once again!
Once duly plated, I gingerly pulled the Audi out on to the road. The engine was smooth, the idle stable, the exhaust note thrumming a pleasant tune. All was well as I crept out, up to the first stop. A rumble, strange, through the brake pedal. Odd, I thought, but perhaps just some residual corrosion on the rotors. It would surely work itself out.
Of course it couldn’t be that simple. At first, it wasn’t there all the time. Sometimes I’d hit the brakes and it would feel completely normal. But every fifth stop or so… I’d feel that rumble. I knew what it really was. It was ABS kicking in.
Of course, the ABS shouldn’t have been kicking in at all. I was stopping calmly at traffic lights on perfectly dry sealed roads. But every so often, as I slowed that last 5 mph or so, the pedal would rumble as the ABS pump tried to modulate the brakes. For some reason, the ABS controller thought one or more wheels were locking up when they weren’t.
I had my suspicions, and my research bore them out. These cars often have their wheel speed sensors fail over the years. These sensors are relatively simple. They work by detecting a changing magnetic field created as a toothed metal ring—called the “tone ring”—on the wheel hub moves by. Over time, corrosion, vibration, or physical damage can lead to their failure. A build-up of ferrous material on the sensor or tone ring can also interfere with their operation. If they pass dodgy speed signals back to the ABS or stability control module, the car can think wheels are locked or losing traction when they’re actually not.
A simple explainer on how wheel speed sensors work.
I drove the car for 100 miles or so, naively wishing the problem would just go away. I even naively gave the car a power washing in the hopes that maybe I’d spray off some metal filings or other debris that might be interfering with the sensor’s operation. Still, as I drove, little changed.
There was no real safety issue at first—just the occasional ABS trigger at less than 5 mph. Eventually, the problem worsened. Traction control started cutting in under acceleration. It was incredibly frustrating. I could disable it and avoid the problem, but I had to face facts. It was stupid to keep driving it at this point.
Don’t ask me how this happens, either. The car didn’t move for three months, and a sealed little plastic sensor broke! Maddening. Maybe I’ll find out a little mouse chewed through the wires. Maybe it was corrosion. Either way, it needs to be fixed.
Normally I’d consider something like this a victory. A wheel sensor, an affordable and easy fix! As it stands, though, it’s kind of a huge pain in the ass. First of all, I have to buy a VCDS diagnostic cable so I can figure out which wheel sensor is failing. There are four of them, after all.
Worse than that, though, is that I don’t have anywhere I can jack up my car to work on it. My car is stupidly low and I need to get under the car to change whichever sensor is defective. I had a friend with a great driveway, but they just got it beautifully relaid at great expense. We wouldn’t be friends anymore if I streaked it with WD40 and brake dust. I might have to try just jacking the car up in street parking, but I’m not looking forward to it. Oh, and I dumped 90% of my tools when I moved into my apartment. So that’s a nice bonus. My fault.
Could I just pay a mechanic? I avoid doing so at all costs. Maybe I have trust issues. There are good shops out there, and then there are shops that try to screw you out of thousands of dollars when you go in for an oil change. I really hate dealing with the latter, and I’m not going to do so for something as simple as a wheel sensor. I need to solve this myself.
I’ve also discovered another wonderful little treat, too. When looking over the car with the engine running, I found a strange hot spot on top of the battery cover. It turns out Audi put a fuse box here, and they didn’t make it very well at all. One wire leading into the fuse box is slightly corroded, with the high-resistance connection generating noticeable heat. Meanwhile, a fuse holder for the coolant fans had melted somewhat. Everything still worked, but it’s clear this 24-year-old fusebox needs replacement. A weird failure, but the Germans always surprise you.
There are, of course, other problems too. The wind deflector doesn’t work, because the threaded rods that drive it have fallen to pieces. The heater only sort of works because the foam on the blend door fell apart long ago. Nor do the key fobs work to lock and unlock the car. Oh, and there are very slow leaks of power steering fluid and coolant that don’t really affect the car but irk me to no end. Fluids should stay inside any vehicle made after 1997. That’s just the way I see it.
I want to fix all of these, but reality demands I prioritize. The heating, wind deflector, and key fobs are all pretty inconsequential. The leaks I intend to get sorted when I take the car in for its timing belt service. I don’t fancy spilling coolant all over a public street. That’s just rude.
My $1200 smartphone is all the inspection camera I need.
Still, not entirely sure I’ve identified the leak.
— Lewin S. Day (@rainbowdefault.bsky.social) March 6, 2025 at 3:02 PM
Oh, wait, it’s probably that flange on the engine. Ugh.Â
Ultimately, my new lifestyle continues to test my relationship with my dream car. It seems increasingly pointless to hang on to a pricy asset that I get to enjoy less than once a week. I could easily get by without a car these days, and the roads around here are no fun at all anyway. What’s the point of spending all this time and money when I can only get out to the countryside for a blast once a month or less?
Still, it’s hard to let go of something that is such a core part of my identity. How can I be a car lover if I never drive at all? Until I can answer that question, I have a roadster to fix.
Image credits: All images Lewinus Berginator IV
Wheel speed sensor not working after the car’s been settin”? Mice.
I suppose I’ll never quite understand the thinking behind owning a car like an early 2000’s VAG car, especially a low volume one, while not having any place to park or work on it. These cars are a notorious trail of tears but, if you have the skill, motivation and a warm, indoor garage, can be a hoot to own. However, I’ve never known anyone with this era Volkswagen Group car that has any hair left from pulling it all out. Or spendible cash. Good luck.
I would encourage you not to define yourself by your stuff.
And there are lots of ways to be a car enthusiast even if you aren’t driving a lot right now due to your situation. It’s also worth noting that the situation has an exceedingly high chance of not being permanent, so there’s that.
tl;dr – this too shall pass
Funny how my Japanese cars just don’t seem to have these problems, which stem from poor design and poor quality. My 31yo Miata just goes, cheap and easy to work on. You guys shave permanently scared me off owning a German car.
Eh, if you go back to the 80’s and 90’s, German cars were a lot more solid and easier to work on.
But, did you die?
I don’t know if you’re going to get ‘good’ advice here. We’re passionate about vehicles, or we wouldn’t be here.
I’ve had to use 2x4s to drive up on before jacking a car before. Now you can buy plastic ones for that
VAG is pain.
I’m not sure how car washes are set up where you’re at, but that’s where I did my first brake-job in my college/pizza-delivery days. It was raining the day I was afraid the brakes were going to finally give out so I went to the car wash, closed the doors, and had a nice afternoon of wrenching. Finished up with an hour to spare before my shift started.
I did bite the bullet and go to a mechanic during the three months I lived in an apartment though. Found a great mom-and-pop type place that always seemed to have about 50 cars parked around it in a back alley setting out in the industrial area. They were reasonable and honest. It felt great finding that place – they were more than helpful with a couple of minor issues I had with my ’89 Cadillac Brougham.
And that was also the weird thing about that summer of apartment living. I didn’t even really need a car. It was a short walk to a mall, my office was right across the street, and the Brougham had to be parked two blocks away. For some people that’s probably an ideal situation (especially since it was an affordable apartment), but I don’t miss those days – having my own place to wrench and detail has always been a priority since then.
My BMW is a good bit lower than your Audi and I have no trouble jacking it up… buy a low-profile jack and you’ll be good. Jack it up in a parking lot, I’ve done that plenty of times, no shame in it. VCDS is a solid investment for keeping any VW/Audi product alive in the modern era, you won’t regret having it in the future. My BMW ISTA setup is a lifesaver with my BMW’s.
Worth every penny invested! Glad BMW F series are workable on most things with an ENET cable. Still, bought an ICOM just in case.
You should definitely invest in VCDS. I put it off for years but it literally paid for itself the first time I used it.
Do your key fobs just need new batteries?…
Sorry to hear this is turning into a “never meet your hero” kind of thing for you.
I haven’t (yet) had those issues with mine – so far the only hard part was having to wait 25 years to get it. Well, that and eating batteries because I don’t store it properly over the winter.
Ten years in, I still love my Miata.
Miata Is Always The Answer
Maybe trade out of the TT and into a MX-5? Low cost to maintain and scratches the topless sports car itch better than anything else for the money.
I’m contemplating a ‘fun’ car. Something like one of the Toyota GRs, Mazda Miata or Subaru BRZ. From a financial standpoint I don’t expect too many repairs with them, as long as I can suppress the urge to modify them. Still, it is not an inconsequential annual expense for something I would drive around town a couple times a week and once a month, if I’m lucky, in the Hill Country.
I’ve formed some serious feelings for wheeled vehicles in the past and I understand that parting with something that contains so many fond memories, and can potentially make so many more, is tough.
Wife says that I need to decide which of my relationships is more important. I think, hope, she is just talking about cars n stuff. I already have a hole in the water that I throw money at, so acquiring something to fill another parking space, might be tricky.
I dunno how plentiful they are in your city, but garages where you can rent a hoist by the hour may be just what you need.
City car enthusiasm requires some effort…
You can do a surprising amount of work at the curb or in a parking lot, I did this for years. I took the bed off my army truck and replaced the fuel tank in a single parking spot behind my old apartment.
Look into renting a garage or car port you can work in.
Join car clubs and enthusiast groups and make friends who have space and like to help.
Start a collective and open a shared shop.
I feel this 100%, as a person who also just decided to fix up an early 2000s Audi product. The B5.5 Passat is far less interesting than the TT, but between the J Mays design, the Porsche-sourced metallic green color, and the fact that it’s an actual mechanical AWD wagon…well, I’m, gonna keep it running despite a punchlist of about 25 items (most of which are economically unfeasible, at least for the effort and value). My goal is just mechanical soundness, plus mitigating all the leaks. So many leaks.
But when my wife suddenly lost her job in Feb, without reason, our family income dropped by about 20%. That may not sound too drastic, but that was the 20% that paid for things like vacation and the possibility of a new car. So I shifted my focus a bit — using this as a teachable moment to show my 14yo how deferred maintenance works, and doing repairs on a car that’s nearly disposable. Maybe that’s the wrong phrase, but let’s just say I don’t worry about the occasional scratch, and I’m not concerned that Supertech oil is going make the precious Teutonic V6 explode the next time I drive it.
It’s very liberating, TBH. Now I have phone alerts set for Pull-A-Part and can’t wait to go see if I can replace the cracked dashboard (so I can get rid of the baling wire that’s holding it up behind the scenes!). And vents. Mirrors. Headliner. Chassis control module. Door sensors. The list goes on, but most of it can wait indefinitely.
At least now, I know when the day comes to sell or donate it, I can do it with a clear conscience and maybe get a little better price for it. Or at least know that someone can use it for driving to work without the fear of anything drastic happening. And let’s face it, there comes a point where a “beater” starts encroaching on “vintage auto” status and that’s right where we both are.
This is where I’m at with my 30 y/o BMW. It is mechanically sound but has issues that will never make sense to fix money-wise. Though, like Lewis, it is my fun car and an unnecessary expense in the name of the hobby. It is tough to know where the line of maintaining vs selling from a cost, time, and sanity perspective.
I could theoretically buy something newer, less prone to old-car issues, but the pride in having fixed it up myself, and the time I took away from other obligations (and priorities) washes. But maybe that is for the better.
Lewin*** Damn autocorrect.
As the owner of not one, but two old Audis, it’s fascinating to me that they are all like this. They are just truly terrible. And we persist. I also own actually reliable vehicles that are older and never break, so I know it doesn’t have to be like this.
Maybe sell it and move on to the next holy grail?
Time to move to the exurbs and accept a long work commute so that you and your Audi can enjoy daily communion.
Daily commute in a 20yo Audi product. That’s a special kind of sadism right there.
I used to think this way too, but at some point the cost of buying tools you might not use again, plus the value of your own time and aggravation starts to outweigh the desire to avoid a shop.
I know it’s not really in keeping with the tone of the site, but ultimately the point of this hobby is to have fun, and if stressing over repairs gets in the way of that, it’s sometimes better just to pay someone else to take the stress for you.
I use eBay for specialty tools. Just about anything you might need is on there, having been passed down from one user to the next for who knows how long. Buy it, use it, post it for sell for the next person and recoup what you spent on a tool you’ll only ever use once anyway.
That works, so does borrowing tools from Autozone or wherever (not sure if there are programs like this in Australia) but it’s still adding more steps to the process.
Depends how highly you value your time, really. And everyone is different there.
I have loads of tools, I’ve done engine swaps and all sorts of big jobs. But if a wheel speed sensor fails and a garage can fix it for me I’ve no problem letting them do it.
It’s not a fun job, I won’t enjoy it or learn from it.
I let shops do work I no longer want to do. I had a shop replace the timing belt/water pump on the MDX. When my biggest impact wouldn’t loosen the harmonic balancer I cried no joy and called my shop. There is work I enjoy doing and work I do not.
100% agree. Time has a value. Frustration has a value; frustration of the job and frustration of not being able to use the car like you want to.
I’m merely an adequate DIY’er. I can, some of the time, and I will if I have to. Simple brake replacement, oil change, simple stuff, yeah I can do that. The difference between myself however and someone who has done a particular job possibly hundreds of times is vast. I’m willing to pay for that expertise if it means the job gets done quicker and my part in it is merely drop off/pick up.
I don’t have many non-working hours in a day, and I prioritize those hours. Personally I get a lot more enjoyment out of my vehicles by driving them than I do by working on them. Don’t get me wrong, digging in is a great way to deepen an automotive relationship. But I’ll always prefer a drive on a nice day to being under a car in the garage.
Pay the mechanic and enjoy your car again.
Thats very much a YMMV argument.most people grossly over value their time to the point they use this argument to pay so.So e hundreds of dollars to change their oil despite the actual time spent driving and waiting exceeds the 15-30 minutes spent as a DIY.
When most shops are charging $150-$200 an hour labor rates you find there are lot’s of things you can do that you really didn’t think you could. My town also has a harbor freight for those one time use tools. I’d say my biggest factor in dealing with fixes though is that I learned to drive old toyotas instead of old bmw’s. I currently daily a 98 cherokee though.
Sometimes biting the bullet is so worth it. Sometimes.
Agreed. Our RAV4 failed safety inspection last year. To be fair to the dealer, all the problems they identified were legitimate. One of them was a job that was going to be a PITA for me to fix at home. They also got it back the same day, which was important at the time. The time value of money definitely won there.
I agree. I no longer have a garage, and my motivation for doing extensive things on gravel is pretty much gone. When my daughter’s cam phaser went south, I farmed the job out to a trusted shop. I would have never considered doing that 20 years ago—but gladly paid.
Agreed.
As a City Dweller who runs a 16 year old German Luxury Depreciation Vehicle – it’s one thing to do very minor maintenance/repairs.
It’s quite another to pull major things apart and put them back together — that’s where you need to find a trustworthy German specialist, ask hard questions, and use your best judgment.
You gave away your tools?????
Sacrilege!
Strange that the ABS would act that way. On my GM, when one of the wheel speed sensors gets wet and throws a bad number, the ABS/Traction control/Stabilitrak goes bye-bye until the car is rebooted. I’m surprised the Audi doesn’t do the same thing.
I made that mistake too. I was living in Germany, with no plans to move back to the US. So I finally decided to clear out my stuff from my dad’s house in California. Gave my tools to a good friend. This included a motor hoist. Of course, my wife got a job in Massachusetts the very next year and we moved back. I’ve been trying to build up a collection again. It’s never the same.