Could say that.
The mechanic is now officially stumped by my car.
It’s doing something that, according to the specs, is impossible.
And all without showing an engine code while doing it.
Which, it should be showing because it keeps jumping time.
And not just a little.
We’re talking 3 to 4 degrees at a shot.
“I write this journal not so much as a warning but more to order my thoughts.” -script found on the inside cover of Doctor Marius Kennit’s journal from his last expedition.
It was a dreary day of foul weather that found me sorting the clutter in my attic. There amidst the wreck of old books, rolled charts, strange relics, and other antiquities I found a box bound tightly shut and locked quite securely against my curious proddings. The box had singularly strange markings that in the were-light of the attic suggested grotesque claw marks from the inside of the box as if a terrible thing had tried to escape the bound wooden confines. The rest of my task quite thoroughly forgotten, I carried the the strange artifact down the stairs to my reading room for further investigation in better light. I do not know why the box affected me so, I felt as if eyes were suddenly glaringly turned upon me with extreme interest.
With the box set firmly on my table, and a few extra lamps lit for more light, I set about unbinding the box from its fetters. The claw marks, as I had decided, were nothing more than the ancient borings of insects. How long I took to decide that I do not know, but I do know that I set upon the bindings with a fury and unnatural madness. I laughed in triumph as first one then another of the curious bonds fell to my assault. They resembled tensioned metal bands, yet were not metal. They were resilient like well cared for leather, yet unravelled like wound rope upon failing. Presently I had the box free -except for the lock!
Something dragged my attention to the keyhole and gnawed at my memory in an unwholesome fashion. The curious shape of the keyhole brought to mind a memory from youth when I had spent some time in this very house with relatives. My grandfather had once shown me a secret space behind some bricks in the fireplace. My eyes darted to that very same fireplace and those same bricks. Surely in the intervening years someone had removed all the items hidden therein? I stepped over to the now ominous brickwork and tugged at the corner brick, it was the key, then slid and removed the next three bricks over. There was surprisingly little dust in the exposed cavity, so clear was the opening that I feared that the object I sought was no longer in there waiting. Apprehensively I peered within and jumped with a start. There, peering back at me after all the time between sat the glint of metal, the shimmer of coins, and the strange non-reflectivity of the oddly shaped device I sought. Drawing it forth I noted that it did indeed resemble a key after a fashion. But it also had a free rotating handle on it. A tag on it with my grandfather's writing identified it as “Key no 2. Dr. M. Kennit col.” I recalled grandfather speaking of Doctor Kennit on a few occasions and always with a great sadness. After one such conversation was when he had revealed the hidden cache of keys, coins, and strange minerals from “the last expedition”.
Holding the, key I guessed, I turned towards the strange box that held my reading room hostage with its bizarre appearance and being. I don't recall putting the key into the lock, nor do I remember turning it. But I swear to this day that the box sprung open and jumped from my table.
Tensioner.
Get a timing belt kit. It includes a new tensioner and idler pulley. Send me your specs and I'll get you a price.
Other things to check for: Engine and Transmission Mounts.
Seems unlikely, but if you’re otherwise stumped ...
.
Basically, you’re looking for failure modes that won’t throw codes.
(Modes, codes ... I slay me. That’s why I belong here.)