Radiator Flush Moorebank Site

Dez grabbed a flashlight and peered into the radiator cap. He grimaced. “Yep. That’s not coolant, mate. That’s iced coffee. Thick, rusty, chunky iced coffee. You need a full radiator flush—Moorebank style.”

“See that?” Dez pointed to chunks of scale falling onto the concrete. “That’s your engine trying to die. This? This is a second chance.” radiator flush moorebank

For the next two hours, Tony stood in the bay as Dez drained what looked like liquid clay from the petcock. He ran a garden hose through the system until brown water turned clear, then hooked up a chemical flush kit that frothed and bubbled like a science fair volcano. Dez grabbed a flashlight and peered into the radiator cap

“Coolant system?” Dez asked, not really a question. That’s not coolant, mate

When he finally poured the fresh green coolant in—a perfect 50/50 mix—the Commodore started with a purr. The temp needle sat right where it belonged. Tony drove out onto the Hume Highway, the air conditioning actually cold for the first time in a year.

“Dead. Cooked. Kaput,” Tony said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I think she’s sludged up. She’s been running hot for weeks. I just… kept adding water.”