Down the Rabbit Hole with our Citroën DS
By Alison Hartzler….
How far down the rabbit hole would you be willing to fall for a project car?
Our bodies drape over a greasy workbench, the silence cut by labored breaths. My husband and I are bathed in sweat, oil, and something that smells like fish. The results from our last 20+ hours of work lay before us. We finally did it; we removed the engine from our 1970 Citroën DS21.
I wait for the feeling of accomplishment- the pride that should follow after sweating, bleeding, and occasionally crying through an endless weekend of work. But as I stare at what now resembles a turkey after Thanksgiving, it feels more like staring into the mouth of a tunnel: pitch black, unknown entities hiding inside, with no idea how long it might take to find the light again. Is it worth pushing forward, or should we cut our losses and move on?
My husband and I see ourselves as stewards rather than owners of the car- temporary keepers tasked with bringing her back to life. Two years ago, the original ‘stewards’ reached out looking to pass the torch on to a young couple with as much drive and love for their Citroën DS which they named Grand Ol’ Lady.
They had purchased her back in 1971 from the Citroën dealership in Marina del Rey, and over the next 53 years, loved her like part of the family. She joined their yearly camping trips, long drives up the California coast, and attended countless Citroën Car Club events. Her victory in the ‘Hand Cranking’ tournament remains a point of pride for the family.
However, as the car aged, so did her owners. Time pushed forward, and it became increasingly difficult to maintain seasoned components and wearing parts.
By the time she was passed on to us, the car was unfortunately not idling, blowing smoke, and carried a persistent engine ticking. The last check-up suggested some fuel lines required maintenance. However, upon a thorough inspection, the real problems began presenting themselves like a parading peacock.
We began by servicing and replacing common problem points: spark plugs, ignition coil, distributor, ect. Once the ground work was settled, we moved onto servicing the carb. We checked gaskets, seals, and baseline adjustments. After further inspection, we discovered the base of the carb had warped and decided to replace it entirely.
Although this allowed the car to maintain idle, and overall ran much smoother, the engine ticking became more present after eliminating everything else. Disappointingly, another valve adjustment revealed coolant in the oil, along with ominous white smoke.
We then dismantled the head and brought it to a machine shop where they found a hole as well as several previous repairs, deeming it too far gone. After sourcing a replacement, along with a new intake manifold, we felt ready to keep pushing forward.
Up to this point, my understanding of car mechanics was limited to what I could see within the bay. Anything deeper, such as the inner workings of the head, remained out of my wheelhouse. However, by this point, it became clear we had to keep digging to unearth the root of the problem.
Thankfully, we had collected numerous Citroën books and spent hours flipping through page after page on pushrods, rocker arms, combustion chambers, and anything even slightly related to this rebuild. The first time we pulled the head apart, I felt like a surgeon dissecting a brain. By the fourth time, we became practiced generals.
Four times! We had to dismantle, fix, reassemble, test drive, and then diagnose only to realize we had to start the whole process over. It was like a greasy, oil-filled version of Groundhog Day.
The first attempt was focused on cleaning and inspections. We let the components soak in parts cleaner overnight, then used an air compressor to blow out any potential blockage. We reassembled and then rotated the tires to find top-dead-center (this was always my job and I swear my biceps doubled in this time). Yet after a quick test drive, the ticking persisted.
On our third dismantling, we actually found something- a bent pushrod. This was both good news and bad. At least there now was a clear issue to fix. After reassembling with the new pushrod, we finally felt like we had it.
Our seething frustration boiled over upon discovering the knocking noise had persisted after our third round of reassembly.
We realized that there was nothing left but to admit it was a rod knock. The engine would have to come out.
At that point, we were ready to abandon the whole car. After all, we have another Citroën DS waiting for our love and attention (and could benefit from a handy donor). At least with that car, we know what can of worms awaits us. Is this car really worth this effort?
For most, the answer is probably no, especially for those in our situation. Armani and I have seven cars. Two of these are full projects, with three requiring constant maintenance. The remaining two work reliably right up until we actually need them. Oh– and we live on a boat. Anyone familiar with boat life understands the time and money that alone requires.
So why commit further energy into this insatiable metal beast? Beyond the fact that the previous owners entrusted us to bring her back to life, the answer has become more personal than I anticipated when first stepping into this journey.
I have been a car enthusiast ever since I was young watching my dad work tirelessly on his beloved Porsche 911. He spent years fine-tuning and personalizing it until everything was just right. He would even take it racing from time to time, inevitably leading to more work. But he was always happy to do it, and I always loved watching him.
I remember begging him to let me help. I wanted my dainty girl fingers just as grubby as his. But whether it was due to his meticulous particularity in the project, or protectiveness of his little girl, I was kept at an arm’s length, left to watch and learn what I could from a distance.
Then Armani and I met, and within a few years I found my world revolving around classic cars. People assume he pushed me into this lifestyle. But my love and appreciation for their delicate designs and elegant mechanisms only blossomed the more I experienced them.
Still, throughout each project, Armani has led the charge. How could he not? The only way we can maintain this lifestyle is through his ability to master anything he puts his hands to. Nevertheless, my part in the projects has grown increasingly in depth over the years.
Through long nights holding flashlights, hours searching a boiling engine for a lost 11 mill socket, and exhausting cleanups after a particularly messy project, this time has prepared me in a way I had not expected. Like Ralph Macchio, I found myself realizing those endless days working in the background had been building towards something meaningful.
Still, the question remains: how far down the rabbit hole am I willing to fall? To quote my favorite early 2000s teen comedy, “The limit does not exist!”
Like finding hundreds of crawly critters after daring to peek beneath a muddy rock, the problems this car continues to unearth feel relentless. This daunting fact should be enough to deter most reasonable adults with full-time jobs. Yet the more these problems arise, the more I find myself participating in the solutions, and the more confident I become in my ability to bring this stunning car back to life. When that day finally arrives, what an accomplishment that will be.
Therefore, regardless of how deep we get pulled in, or how far we tumble down the grease-slicked rabbit hole, Armani and I will keep pushing onward. In time, she will become a working, reliable car once more. I am determined to continue the tradition of long drives, road trips, and Citroën meet-ups. Then one day, far far away, maybe we will find another young couple willing to accept the torch and continue her care. I only hope those stewards will love her as all the stewards who came before.
The original family had named the car Grand Ol’ Lady to express her elegance and grace. While I value this name and will preserve it as part of her identity, I have renamed her Papillon. I feel that, with a lot of time, energy, and love, both of us have potential to emerge from this journey as the best versions of ourselves.