W he is expecting something like that? The first-aid kit for the North Sea vacation, well stocked by my caring parents, seems to be well equipped for any misfortune that could happen to a four and a half year old romping boy: healing ointment and plasters for opened knees, cooling compresses for wasp stings or pinched fingers and stomach drops in the event of island fever . The first thing is that the first-aid kit is not prepared for a broken heart.
'I don't want the duck to go'
It happens when the boy is out in the green 2CV 6 of a vacationer Rendsburg in love. The lady puts him behind the steering wheel and promises not to lock the car anymore so that the boy can climb into the duck at any time. He loses all interest in building sandcastles, eating ice cream and going to bed. Happiness falls apart when the lady leaves after two weeks. “I don't want the duck to go”, howls the boy, and nothing can console him.
The 2CV reacted more calmly at the time, after all, he is 34 too - a late bloomer, however, who has already passed his due date nine years passed. Citroën has been developing the TPV for three years , but its series production, which was scheduled for September 1939, prevented the beginning of the Second World War. The concept of the Toute Petite Voiture, the very small car, survived the war: the French Volkswagen should transport four passengers and their luggage as comfortably as possible and at least 60 km /h on the poor French roads.
At the Paris Salon In 1948, Citroën presented the 2CV. It is similar to the T.P.V. Formally strong, but it has been significantly improved and is very modern compared to the VW Beetle of about the same age: A chassis with independent wheel suspension all around and long-stroke side coil springs dangles from the platform frame. The 2CV, which weighs 495 kilograms, has its own small door and a real trunk for all four passengers.
Two-cylinder boxer engine as a power source
The air-cooled 375 cm³ two-cylinder boxer engine sits lengthways under the windy thin sheet hood and drives the front wheels via a four-speed gearbox. But because it only has nine horsepower, something like acceleration is difficult. It should manage 62 km /h, but with a full load, when each HP has to move almost 90 kilograms, a somewhat rebellious headwind can do thatFundamentally endanger the progress of the 2CV.
Finally, the duck has never really recognized the right of mountains to exist. The fact that their output more than tripled during the 42 years of production does not change that. In 1970 the duck is fully grown, its further development practically comes to a standstill. The front doors have been anchored on the A-pillar instead of the B-pillar for six years, there is a side window in the C-pillar, and as the 2CV 6 the duck gets the large engine with 602 cubic meters and 28 hp.
The unleaded duck ran 116 km /h
Its volume will remain the same for the remaining 20 years, its output may vary by three hp down and up by one hp without this having an effect on the performance. In 1986 the duck had just 28 hp again. Klaus Westrup comments on this in a test in auto motor und sport: “The unleaded duck ran 116 km /h - three faster than the 29 hp duck. The editors cannot provide an explanation for the unconventional behavior; there are - similar to the wonders of Lourdes - things that one has to accept. ”
After 42 years of construction and 3.9 million specimens, the duck decides in 1990 to die. Or maybe she's just tired of the fact that her death has been expected for years. She herself may rust after that, my old love and longing for her not. They last for 26 years. Even the costly, broken relationship with a dirty cheap duck cannot be diminished.
Although it is just the same but not the same duck as it was back then, the green 2CV 6 paws excitedly with the starter and when it meets again chatters at high speed in idle. The first gear only engages without grinding when the car is stationary. When the clutch engages and the duck bursts out, it feels as if two trains are standing next to each other and one is moving very slowly: the eye recognizes movement, but the other senses cannot determine which train is actually rolling - your own or the opposite one.
The duck coats comfortably
When the duck starts up, one wonders whether it is moving gently forwards or whether the world is turning away below it in the opposite direction. Only after a few seconds do the senses no longer deceive. The duck moves, its forward thrust even presses the passengers into the seats, which is more due to their trampoline-like construction - rubber bands stretched between the seat frames carry the cushions - than to high longitudinal forces. Due to the large flywheel mass of the two-cylinder, the flat acceleration curve does not collapse even after upshifting. In fourth gear, the duck comfortably cooed down narrow streets. She doesn't want to drive anywhere else.
On highways she is terrorized because of her slowness, on wide country roads she is pushed into the ditch because everyone thinks that they would be losers if they don't overtake the duck. On the other hand, she likes curvesgladly, even if it is still said that she would tumble over because she throws herself into it with such a big list. Above all, it upsets mindsets. You often ask yourself what you need in the car, want to go up and down the equipment list, seriously buy sensors that turn on the wipers when it rains and the lights at night, as if you were too dumb to think about it yourself.
Duck driving is slow drive
A day with the duck and you realize what you could do without, how relieving that would be - the sheer joy of driving. Today, riding a duck is as enjoyable as slow food: slow drive, slowly, but all the more consciously. Warm summer wind now blows through the folded up side windows and the rolled back roof. When it gets cooler and the sun goes down, the duck stops and takes out her backseat sofa to watch the sunset. When the sun goes down, I'm still sitting on the bench in front of the green duck. This time it won't be like it was in summer '82. This time I will not let them