So if you’re in the dealership service department and your DPF warning light is on - for the twentieth time - on the least-merry merry-go-round ever - and you’re looking at a DPF replacement for several thousand dollars: Before you reach for the defibrillator, or the bat-pumpy - here’s what you need to know. If you’re a car dealer and I am earning your opprobrium here, it’s merely because: Then of course we could add one of my favourite factors - dogshit-dumb dealers, inadequately trained on fault-finding and diagnosis, who charge like wounded bulls for their services, but wouldn’t know actual diagnosis if it jumped up and bit them on the arses. If you are an engineer in a car company and you don’t like me saying this about what you’ve done, then I would humbly suggest: (That should be good for a comment or two.)Īnd ‘failure mode analysis’? It appears that this sounded like a bit too much hard work. Kinda like Jesus on a treadmill, in a stainless steel casket, minus the cross and the miracle.
Many people are locked into an epically unpleasant ‘Groundhog Day’ experience where their DPF dies and is only intermittently resurrected, before dying again, and being resurrected. So that’s good news.Įxcept - it often doesn’t work out that way.
#Dpf off free#
To quote the marketing euphemistic bullshit, DPFs are maintenance free and designed to last the life of the vehicle.
#Dpf off full#
In theory a DPF needs no maintenance - it’s just a steel chamber up near the engine full of Cordierite or silicon carbide designed to trap microscopic soot, and then periodically the computer turns the chamber into a furnace by injecting extra fuel, thus burning the particles into a less harmful state. Straight to the Phantom Zone - where they cannot give you lung cancer. They take out the dangerously small carbon nanoparticles that diesel engines are so good at pumping out the exhaust port - trap them, and burn them into a parallel dimension through a wormhole in space-time. DPFs - diesel particle filters - are a great concept.