Some new things have happened in recent weeks. I have started poking and prodding, trying to gauge what kind of work I need to do. I have partially torn down the engine, researched the codes and identified it as a 1965 cast 396 Chevy 325HP motor. The heads were 98cc oval port iron heads from 1966. It was a fun engine that I hate to part with but I have no use for it as of now. If I can hold on to it, there may be another project I can put it in like a '56 Chevy for the wife.
I removed all the wheels and took them out front for a good scrubbing. Having that laundry sink in the garage is awesome. I can thread a hose onto the sink and turn the tap to warm. It really makes any washing project nice in any weather. The wheels are still kinda cruddy, but at least the tires are black again.
The rear wheels are still off the car as I need to rebuild the rear drums. Yeah they are still going to be drums for now. I will eventually put 4-wheel power disc brakes on the car, but now is not the time. The last few parts needed for this are on order and I should get into building them in a week or so.
My engine build has also gotten out of a stalled condition. After doing a quick side job for a friend, I have enough funds to order the last few parts I need for the engine. Those were a neoprene rear main seal, timing cover alignment bushings, timing cover to intake bolt, and a new set of head gaskets. When all of that arrives, I can start final assembly and prepare to install the motor in the car.
I still need to pull the old engine out, pressure wash the engine compartment, and detail it before putting the new engine in. I might even have to find a new radiator support, this one looks a little rough.
I also have started tearing into the interior. I evicted the mice (all 5 of them) with mouse traps baited with peanut butter. The seats have been removed, and the drivers seat is in for a re-upholster session. The carpet and headliner will round out the gotta-do list before I take the car out for engine break-in runs. The car has really suffered being out in the weather for eight years, and I hope there is not too much horror waiting for me.
On a side note, I have added to the tool collection. I found a ring compressor and a beam-type torque wrench 0-150 ft-lbs for a buck each at a yard sale. I have a clicker type torque wrench already and will use both of them for the engine assembly. Still need seal pullers, engine hoist, timing light and such. All in due time...
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
The work begins
I now have gotten over the shock of the moment. My car is in the garage and it is in need of major TLC if I am going to get it on the road anytime soon. I started with the easy stuff. I had removed the hood hinges prior to moving the car over to the lot next door (redneck anti theft) and I never saw any evidence that it was tampered with for the 18 months it was over there. I removed the hood and started removing the dead blackberry vines that had grow into everything.
Next I filled a bucket with hot soapy water and started scrubbing the car from top to bottom. I had to get all of the green algae off of the car to see just how bad the paint was. I see that there are some chips and bubbles that will need to be dealt with but no serious cancer.
After the outside was cleaned I jacked up the car, removed the headers and starter in preps for pulling the engine. I have removed all but the heads and block itself so that I can track down all the codes I need to properly identify it. While I had the car in the air, I took the front tires off and gave them a serious scrubbing.
The last few days I have been removing moldy bits of the interior and evaluating whether the plastic pieces are salvageable. I think that I can keep most of the plastic trim, but all the carpet and upholstery is trashed.
Next I filled a bucket with hot soapy water and started scrubbing the car from top to bottom. I had to get all of the green algae off of the car to see just how bad the paint was. I see that there are some chips and bubbles that will need to be dealt with but no serious cancer.
After the outside was cleaned I jacked up the car, removed the headers and starter in preps for pulling the engine. I have removed all but the heads and block itself so that I can track down all the codes I need to properly identify it. While I had the car in the air, I took the front tires off and gave them a serious scrubbing.
The last few days I have been removing moldy bits of the interior and evaluating whether the plastic pieces are salvageable. I think that I can keep most of the plastic trim, but all the carpet and upholstery is trashed.
A brief detour.
After spending a month researching the local building codes, I had a plan for how I was going to build this garage. I had two problems to contend with. The first one was simple, the second took a bolder solution.
My first problem was that my Firebird was sitting comfortably next to the house with the engine in a non-running state. It needed a place to go and the means to get there. I had purchased a large vacant lot next door a few years previous and just needed to rent a trailer to get it there. I live on a hill so I pulled the trailer up behind it and pushed the car downhill. It took a couple tries to get the car set perfectly but in a few minutes it was right where I needed it.
The second problem was that I had no back yard. The slope behind my h
ouse was so great that the grass never grew back there in the three years since we had moved in. If I was going to remedy this, it had to be done now. Once the garage was up, there would be no acess to the back of the house. I called around and found an excavator that could do the job I wanted and we got it done. 300 yards of dirt were removed from the back and side of the house to prepare for the garage. Now I was set to build.
Finding the right time as well as the financing was difficult and resulted in selling off the vacant lot next door. The buyer understood that the two vehicles on the lot would be moved as soon as the garage was finished. I finished the garage to my plans except timeline. I had expected to finish in three months and then move the car. The build took six months, and I didn't get to move the car until January 2007.
Moving day was exciting and Julie took the photos. I was lost in the moment and was beyond operating a camera. I had to wipe away a couple tears as I realized that my car was finally home under it's own roof after all these years. Now it was time for cleaning and inspecting the damage that all that time had caused.
My first problem was that my Firebird was sitting comfortably next to the house with the engine in a non-running state. It needed a place to go and the means to get there. I had purchased a large vacant lot next door a few years previous and just needed to rent a trailer to get it there. I live on a hill so I pulled the trailer up behind it and pushed the car downhill. It took a couple tries to get the car set perfectly but in a few minutes it was right where I needed it.The second problem was that I had no back yard. The slope behind my h
ouse was so great that the grass never grew back there in the three years since we had moved in. If I was going to remedy this, it had to be done now. Once the garage was up, there would be no acess to the back of the house. I called around and found an excavator that could do the job I wanted and we got it done. 300 yards of dirt were removed from the back and side of the house to prepare for the garage. Now I was set to build.
Finding the right time as well as the financing was difficult and resulted in selling off the vacant lot next door. The buyer understood that the two vehicles on the lot would be moved as soon as the garage was finished. I finished the garage to my plans except timeline. I had expected to finish in three months and then move the car. The build took six months, and I didn't get to move the car until January 2007.
Moving day was exciting and Julie took the photos. I was lost in the moment and was beyond operating a camera. I had to wipe away a couple tears as I realized that my car was finally home under it's own roof after all these years. Now it was time for cleaning and inspecting the damage that all that time had caused.
Monday, March 5, 2007
A short honeymoon.
My honeymoon with this car lasted about a month before the "real" issues started to surface. It was a snowball effect that eventually led to a complete replacement of all wires and electrical components from the dashboard forward.
The first one to surface was a biggie. It should have tipped me off to the fact that this car was unstable and needed professional help. I had just finished a graveyard shift and was trying to start my car. The accessories all worked but not a sound out of the starter. Figuring I had a dead battery, I popped the hood to pull it, run into town for a new one and then drive home. When I grabbed the positive cable, I was greeted by a shower of sparks from around the fuel pump. It seems that the cable had been pinched under the fuel pump, wore a hole through the insulation, and had melted it completely off. I went into town and bought a new cable and drove home thankful that my new hotrod hadn't burned to the ground.
The next happy episode came as I was sitting at a red light. The engine died and when I went to retart it, smoke poured out from under the hood and the dash. The only thing I could do was open the hood and yank the battery cable off. I had smoked the ignition box and had to pay $500 to get my car running again. I was also late to work that day and really didn't want any more attention.
That was the last time the Firebird caused me to miss work, but that wasn't the end of troubles. It became increasingly hard to convinse the headlights to work. I had to pull the headlight switch on & off, and pump the dimmer switch for anywhere up to ten minutes to turn them on. Tired of these problems, and afraid that the next one would start a fire, I bought the three forward wiring harnesses and all new switches for everything. Now nothing was going to suprise me for a long time.
My next stop brought me to Everett, Washington and service aboard the aircraft carrier stationed there. When I first arrived, no sticker was required to drive on base, just your ID. That worked for about a year until they revised the security policy to require the sticker and you had to pass emmissions too. I thought it was a joke when I asked if they required emmisions on a 30 yar old car and was told absolutely, all cars, no exceptions.
I had just about enough fun playing with this car in the rain anyway, (remember the brakes?) and at that point decided to park the car and get something that would be guaranteed to pass emmissions testing. Not to mention one that wouldn't spin the tires leaving every stoplight in the soggy season. The first field of rest was my grandparents house in Marysville. Both of them had passed away and my dad was keeping watch over the place, so that's where it ended up. When that house sold, it was moved to the other side of the state with the other set of grandparents.
Now I had parked my car for three years and didn't want to lose it completely. I told my wife, who loved that car too, that it was time to retrieve it and bring it back to life. The bad part was, we now lived in Tacoma, with one of the highest stolen car rates in the state. We were only going to be there about six more months and we decided to take the chance. The last week of my final trip out to sea, I get an email from the wife telling me that somebody had attempted to steal the car. I had disabled it so that only a complete end to end of the wiring would show you where it was. I had four different methods of keeping the car from running. These jokers never found them, tried to jerk the tumblers out of the ignition (and failed) switch and them tried to push the car out of the parking lot (uphill) to a darker place where they'd have more time to work. They were suprised by my neighbor who was late to work and they never got the car. It was moved from it's original spot and that qualified as stolen. My wife promptly went out an bought a steering wheel lock to further discourage idiots from taking a joyride before we could get out of town.
The last major move for the car was in 2002. I was out of the navy now, working south of Olympia, and we decided to move to eliminate the commute. We packed up our two bedroom apartment and took a chance on homeownership. We loved the house and the view, but alas, I still had no garage. After all of the household was moved, I had to move that poor car I had been dragging around, and it was not happy with me. I made it to the Hwy 16 interchange in Tacoma before the battery died. Something was wrong with the charging circuit, and I didn't have the time to troubleshoot it. The cops would have it towed if I left it overnight, and I wasn't ready to take the chance of it getting stripped right there on the side of the road either. We went to the closest parts store and bought a new battery, installed it and I drove it home. I barely made it that hour long drive, and once it was parked, it stayed. It would be another two years before it moved again.
Now we are back to the beginning of this particular saga. I wanted to get the car fixed up, with a more tolerable driving setup, and get rid of my truck. That lasted about a month as I started collecting all of the miscellaneous parts that didn't come with the long block. The fall weather was setting in and I couldn't see trying to do all of this in the rain, on a gravel driveway, on a hill....
It was actually a suggestion of my wife's to build the garage. I had no idea how much it would cost but I'd better not waste this opportunity delivered up to me. The dreaming and scheming set in and before long, I had my plans ready for approval by the finance committee. It took some convincing, but after a few short minutes, we were ready to go as planned.
The first one to surface was a biggie. It should have tipped me off to the fact that this car was unstable and needed professional help. I had just finished a graveyard shift and was trying to start my car. The accessories all worked but not a sound out of the starter. Figuring I had a dead battery, I popped the hood to pull it, run into town for a new one and then drive home. When I grabbed the positive cable, I was greeted by a shower of sparks from around the fuel pump. It seems that the cable had been pinched under the fuel pump, wore a hole through the insulation, and had melted it completely off. I went into town and bought a new cable and drove home thankful that my new hotrod hadn't burned to the ground.
The next happy episode came as I was sitting at a red light. The engine died and when I went to retart it, smoke poured out from under the hood and the dash. The only thing I could do was open the hood and yank the battery cable off. I had smoked the ignition box and had to pay $500 to get my car running again. I was also late to work that day and really didn't want any more attention.
That was the last time the Firebird caused me to miss work, but that wasn't the end of troubles. It became increasingly hard to convinse the headlights to work. I had to pull the headlight switch on & off, and pump the dimmer switch for anywhere up to ten minutes to turn them on. Tired of these problems, and afraid that the next one would start a fire, I bought the three forward wiring harnesses and all new switches for everything. Now nothing was going to suprise me for a long time.
My next stop brought me to Everett, Washington and service aboard the aircraft carrier stationed there. When I first arrived, no sticker was required to drive on base, just your ID. That worked for about a year until they revised the security policy to require the sticker and you had to pass emmissions too. I thought it was a joke when I asked if they required emmisions on a 30 yar old car and was told absolutely, all cars, no exceptions.
I had just about enough fun playing with this car in the rain anyway, (remember the brakes?) and at that point decided to park the car and get something that would be guaranteed to pass emmissions testing. Not to mention one that wouldn't spin the tires leaving every stoplight in the soggy season. The first field of rest was my grandparents house in Marysville. Both of them had passed away and my dad was keeping watch over the place, so that's where it ended up. When that house sold, it was moved to the other side of the state with the other set of grandparents.
Now I had parked my car for three years and didn't want to lose it completely. I told my wife, who loved that car too, that it was time to retrieve it and bring it back to life. The bad part was, we now lived in Tacoma, with one of the highest stolen car rates in the state. We were only going to be there about six more months and we decided to take the chance. The last week of my final trip out to sea, I get an email from the wife telling me that somebody had attempted to steal the car. I had disabled it so that only a complete end to end of the wiring would show you where it was. I had four different methods of keeping the car from running. These jokers never found them, tried to jerk the tumblers out of the ignition (and failed) switch and them tried to push the car out of the parking lot (uphill) to a darker place where they'd have more time to work. They were suprised by my neighbor who was late to work and they never got the car. It was moved from it's original spot and that qualified as stolen. My wife promptly went out an bought a steering wheel lock to further discourage idiots from taking a joyride before we could get out of town.
The last major move for the car was in 2002. I was out of the navy now, working south of Olympia, and we decided to move to eliminate the commute. We packed up our two bedroom apartment and took a chance on homeownership. We loved the house and the view, but alas, I still had no garage. After all of the household was moved, I had to move that poor car I had been dragging around, and it was not happy with me. I made it to the Hwy 16 interchange in Tacoma before the battery died. Something was wrong with the charging circuit, and I didn't have the time to troubleshoot it. The cops would have it towed if I left it overnight, and I wasn't ready to take the chance of it getting stripped right there on the side of the road either. We went to the closest parts store and bought a new battery, installed it and I drove it home. I barely made it that hour long drive, and once it was parked, it stayed. It would be another two years before it moved again.
Now we are back to the beginning of this particular saga. I wanted to get the car fixed up, with a more tolerable driving setup, and get rid of my truck. That lasted about a month as I started collecting all of the miscellaneous parts that didn't come with the long block. The fall weather was setting in and I couldn't see trying to do all of this in the rain, on a gravel driveway, on a hill....
It was actually a suggestion of my wife's to build the garage. I had no idea how much it would cost but I'd better not waste this opportunity delivered up to me. The dreaming and scheming set in and before long, I had my plans ready for approval by the finance committee. It took some convincing, but after a few short minutes, we were ready to go as planned.
It starts with a dream.
My garage grew from an out of sequence trip of restoring my car. I had looked into ways of trying to stop spending money on my truck and start enjoying my car. Simple enough to say. My bright idea was to rebuild an engine for my car and then sell off the truck to cover the expenses. I had rebuild a Ford 302 for the '77 Maverick I had in high school, so how hard can it be to put together one I had never seen. Little did I know that thought would span two and a half years, with neither the car running or the truck sold.
I have made some progress, mind you, and the efforts have not been a total waste. The journey began way back in the spring of 1997. I was in upstate New York attending classes and was in need of transportation. It was too much to go retrieve that Maverick of mine from Washington state, and I had grown tired of that car anyway. I scanned the classifieds and settled on a nice little car that wouldn't break the bank now or in the future, a white Honda CRX.
As fate would have it, that car was sold before I got there and I had to find something else. Everything I could find needed work and I was too busy for that even if I had the money. I was getting desparate when suddenly, I ran across an ad about a metallic blue, 1968 Pontaic Firebird with a shiny new motor. Could I afford it? What kind of question is that! That portion of my brain was tied up, beaten, gagged and hasn't been seen since. Good riddance!
I had a friend drive me out to meet the keeper of my future obsession, and I remember it clearly to this day. It was mid-morning in May, on the weekend. The fog was burning off, but not gone and neither was the chill. The car had been pulled out of the garage and wiped down and was dressed for the show. We rounded the curve and I had my first glimpse. Sold! Wait, maybe I should get a closer look. We parked next to it and I leaped out of the car. I was washed, waxed and ready to go. Sold! Stop doing that I say to myself. You haven't even heard it run.
This guy asks me if I was interested in hearing it run. Duh! I was barely able to stammer an affirmative through the shock of the moment and the saliva I had somehow forgotten to swallow. It was like a supermodel had asked me out to dinner! Was this really happening to me? I wasn't paying attention to anything else but the lines of the car until the engine cranked over. A well built 427 Chevy motor, and a properly tuned exhaust broke the lazy morning silence and sent shivers through me. It was electrifying and hypnotising at the same time. And at long last, I finally said what I had been trying to stiffle all morning. Sold!!!! 
I couldn't believe my fortune. I was the proud owner of a rumbling, shiny, go fast with add ons I couldn't have dreamed of owning at 20 years old. 10 inch wide tires in the front, 12 inch in the rear. Nose down like a sprinter in the starting blocks and believe me it wasn't just for show. One tap on the gas pedal and I was brought a sudden respect for the power of this car. What I came to learn later is why it was being sold. A car like this isn't for the timid. It still had its original suspension for a manual transmission which was far lighter than the current TH-400 holding the gears. The brakes were still the original 4 wheel manual drums that required a strong leg to get stopped in less distance than a fully loaded semi. To compound both of these wonderful character traits, the car had an undersized steering wheel and manual steering. Who needs a gym membership when you can get your exercise on the road!
I have made some progress, mind you, and the efforts have not been a total waste. The journey began way back in the spring of 1997. I was in upstate New York attending classes and was in need of transportation. It was too much to go retrieve that Maverick of mine from Washington state, and I had grown tired of that car anyway. I scanned the classifieds and settled on a nice little car that wouldn't break the bank now or in the future, a white Honda CRX.
As fate would have it, that car was sold before I got there and I had to find something else. Everything I could find needed work and I was too busy for that even if I had the money. I was getting desparate when suddenly, I ran across an ad about a metallic blue, 1968 Pontaic Firebird with a shiny new motor. Could I afford it? What kind of question is that! That portion of my brain was tied up, beaten, gagged and hasn't been seen since. Good riddance!
I had a friend drive me out to meet the keeper of my future obsession, and I remember it clearly to this day. It was mid-morning in May, on the weekend. The fog was burning off, but not gone and neither was the chill. The car had been pulled out of the garage and wiped down and was dressed for the show. We rounded the curve and I had my first glimpse. Sold! Wait, maybe I should get a closer look. We parked next to it and I leaped out of the car. I was washed, waxed and ready to go. Sold! Stop doing that I say to myself. You haven't even heard it run.
This guy asks me if I was interested in hearing it run. Duh! I was barely able to stammer an affirmative through the shock of the moment and the saliva I had somehow forgotten to swallow. It was like a supermodel had asked me out to dinner! Was this really happening to me? I wasn't paying attention to anything else but the lines of the car until the engine cranked over. A well built 427 Chevy motor, and a properly tuned exhaust broke the lazy morning silence and sent shivers through me. It was electrifying and hypnotising at the same time. And at long last, I finally said what I had been trying to stiffle all morning. Sold!!!! 
I couldn't believe my fortune. I was the proud owner of a rumbling, shiny, go fast with add ons I couldn't have dreamed of owning at 20 years old. 10 inch wide tires in the front, 12 inch in the rear. Nose down like a sprinter in the starting blocks and believe me it wasn't just for show. One tap on the gas pedal and I was brought a sudden respect for the power of this car. What I came to learn later is why it was being sold. A car like this isn't for the timid. It still had its original suspension for a manual transmission which was far lighter than the current TH-400 holding the gears. The brakes were still the original 4 wheel manual drums that required a strong leg to get stopped in less distance than a fully loaded semi. To compound both of these wonderful character traits, the car had an undersized steering wheel and manual steering. Who needs a gym membership when you can get your exercise on the road!
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