Friday, December 21, 2018

road ready

At the end of my last post, I had just successfully moved the car under its own power for the first time.  The total distance traveled was probably less than two yards, just forward and back in the garage, but it still felt like a monumental achievement in the project.  The next step, however, would be to actually leave the garage.

Leaving the garage always feels like a bit of plunge, because my driveway is inclined to the point where pushing the car back into the garage is not an option.  By the time the wheels pass over the lip at the garage door, if the engine quits, it's probably going to take a piece of equipment to get the car back into the garage.  So leaving the garage is something like a metaphorical plunge from the nest, hoping the car is strong enough to fly.  Still, there comes a point where there's nothing more to do, no more putting it off.

For the first test drives around the neighborhood, the car still looked a bit like something from a Mad Max movie.  I wanted to leave as much external trim off of the car as I could before taking it back to the body shop, to make it easier for them to do their final cut and buff and polish on the paint job, so there was no front bumper, no front grille, no trim around the headlights, etc.  But, I also wanted to equip the car with enough equipment to operate it responsibly on public roads, with taillights and turn signals being the main things.  For the first test drive, I only planned to drive it around the outside perimeter of the neighborhood park, so I hoped to skate by with some old Illinois license plates.  It would probably be equally effective to just go without license plates, but it's always nice to throw the Illinois plates on there, even if it's just temporary.  I didn't have any rearview mirrors installed, either, which didn't seem like a big deal until I was actually driving and kept instinctively looking for mirrors to check what was behind me.

A brief sidetrack:  a few entries ago, I wrote a little bit about the value of having fun projects to keep myself motivated when I don't feel like working on the practical projects that need to be done.  One of those ended up being the dashboard trim, which I worked on a little bit prior to the first test drive.  I talked in an earlier entry about how I made a cover plate for the dashboard trim at the far left side of the dash, where I installed toggle switches.  Eventually, I got around to installing the rest of the trim across the bottom of the dash.

The long piece at the far right side had some scratches and dings in it.  The reproduction pieces are sold as a set for the whole dash, and I didn't want to buy a whole set just to get that one piece.  I'd already hacked up and modified some of the other pieces, so no point re-doing that work on new pieces.  Eventually I had an idea to cover up the damage with some of the stickers I'd gotten with some of the parts I'd bought for the car.  Modern race cars commonly have cameras on board, so every surface that the on-board camera might see is covered with advertising.  This was much less common in the '60s, but I took some artistic license and decided to put some advertising on the dashboard trim.

I put on a Holley sticker, an Edelbrock sticker, a Comp Cams sticker, a McLeod sticker, a Hooker sticker, and an ARP sticker.  I had to cut them a little bit to fit into the available space, but I really like the look of it.  I started out with the modern Holley logo, but eventually I found a sticker based on the old '60s-vintage Holley logo, so I replaced the modern Holley logo with that one.  Over the next year or so, I tracked down some other vintage stickers to replace some of the other ones, but the general theme is still there, and is one of my favorite things about the car's interior.



Anyway, I mention the dashboard trim primarily just to set up what you might notice in this video, or this video, both of which were taken during the first drive outside the garage.

The engine rumbles, the transmission whines, there is a lot of road noise with no carpet or other insulation in the car.  I remember thinking "this must be what it's like to drive a dump truck," and that thought put a smile on my face.  I made a few laps around the road outside the park (making left turns, of course), and back to the garage.  Full success.  That was a big day.

I was glad I took the video inside the car, though, because during the drive I was actually so busy just trying to adjust to the car's size, the feel of the clutch, the feel of the steering and brakes, checking over my shoulder because I had no rearview mirrors, etc., I never looked at the gauges long enough to notice that the voltmeter needle was jumping all over the place.  You can see it in the video, though.  I had had a problem with the Corvair's charging system just prior to the time when I drove it to Texas, so I bought a couple spare voltage regulators before leaving.  I didn't have a problem, so they sat on the shelf for four or five years.  All of my Chevys have used the same voltage regulator part number, so I figured they could come in handy as spares in the future.

I grabbed one of those off the shelf, installed it in the Impala, and that seemed to fix my problem immediately.  The original voltage regulator design was mechanical, but at some point through the years, the design was changed to a transistorized version.  By chance, the one I swapped in was transistorized, and the one I replaced was mechanical.  Based on things I've read since then, it sounds like corrosion on the contacts in the mechanical design can result in the behavior I saw during the first test drive.  I eventually discovered that another mechanical spare that I had on hand showed the same erratic behavior, so I guess they both had corroded contacts.  So, if you're going to keep spare voltage regulators laying around, I recommend that you buy the transistorized type.

Another issue that I noticed on the first drive was that the turn signal lever seemed a bit short for comfort.  The guys at the body shop had recommended an aftermarket steering column, which seemed like a good idea, but the turn signal lever didn't seem to match the size of the steering wheel very well.  In an older entry, you can see how the lever extends only a little more than halfway to the outer diameter of the steering wheel.  Of course, the manufacturer of the steering column doesn't know what size steering wheel you're going to use, and a lot of people like a smaller steering wheel.  But with my hand on the stock steering wheel, it puts my fingertips out beyond the end of the turn signal lever, and I would find myself fumbling for the turn signal lever while driving.  With time, I probably would have gotten used it, but I thought maybe I could just extend the lever, instead.

The lever has a knob that threads onto the end of it.  I figured maybe I could unscrew the knob, and use some kind of a standoff or something like that to extend the lever's reach.  Looking around on McMaster-Carr's website, I hoped to find a standoff with a female thread on one side and a male thread on the other, so that it could just be simply installed between the lever and the knob.  I didn't find anything like that with the right thread size, though, so I ended up ordering an aluminum unthreaded spacer.  It's basically an aluminum tube, 3/8" outside diameter, 2-1/2" long, with a 0.218" hole through the middle.  I cut that to length to get the lever length that I wanted, and tapped the hole to the same thread size as the thread on the lever.  The aluminum spacer would now thread onto the lever, so I just needed a way to attach the knob.  I bought a bolt with the correct thread size, cut the head off of it, and used it to join the female threads in the spacer to the female threads in the knob.

As always, I made a bit of a mess of it and the spacer got chewed up a little bit in the process of cutting it to length.  I used a file and some sandpaper to try to clean up the surface of the spacer, and it came out OK.  If you study it closely, you can still see that it's a little dinged up, but if you're not looking for it, it blends in OK.

I didn't take any photos of the individual components, but the photo below shows a close-up of the turn signal lever (foreground), and the smaller lever for the column tilt adjustment (background), and you can see the shape of the spacer installed in the turn signal lever, between the lever and the knob.  It doesn't exactly blend in seemlessly, but it does the job, and it doesn't really stand out too badly, either.



One other thing I wanted to do before the car went back to the body shop was to make the blowout straps that I had planned for the back window.  In a couple of earlier entries (here, and here), from about a million years ago, I talked about some work that was done to install attachment points around the back window to accommodate blowout straps.  I hadn't yet made the straps themselves, though, and I wanted to do that before the car went back to the body shop, just in case I accidentally scratched the paint while fitting them in place.  The body shop still had to do the final polish on the paint job, so it wouldn't make any difference if I scratched it before they did that.

The hard part of making blowout straps and fitting them onto the car was figuring out how to attach them, and that was essentially already handled (as covered in those earlier entries).  Making the straps should be relatively easy.  Early on (waaaaay too early, really) in the project, I had bought a couple thin strips of aluminum that I thought would work OK.  They probably would have been fine, but as I thought about it over time, I started to feel like I wanted something a little more substantial.  I didn't know if the thinner material might vibrate against the back window due to air flow over the car at highway speed, for example.  I ended up ordering a couple strips of three-foot-long, one-inch-wide, 0.075-inch-thick stainless steel from McMaster-Carr.  McMaster-Carr is not cheap, but they aren't prohibitively expensive, either, and I love the searchability of their website and their ability to provide seemingly anything.

Cutting the strips to length and rounding the ends off would be pretty straightforward.  I figured I could to that job well enough with an angle grinder, even if it might not be the ideal tool for the job.  Drilling mounting holes in the ends of the strips would be relatively simple, as well.  The main question was how to bend the strips to the desired shape.  Looking at old race cars, the blowout straps on their rear windows are often just simple metal straps, secured at the ends and curved over the window glass.  But some examples will have bends in them to contour around the trim at the edges and hug the window glass more tightly.  I like the look of those, and I'm always eager to over-complicate things, so I thought I would attempt something like that.

So now the question was how to make the bends to curve around the window trim.  Putting a bend in a strip of 0.075-inch-thick stainless steel is not hard at all.  But making eight identical bends is more of a challenge.  The right tool for putting uniform bends in metal is probably a sheet metal brake.  But I don't have a sheet metal brake.  I've often considered getting one, but they take up more than a little space, and I guess I haven't yet had a project where I really needed one, so I still don't have one.  For these straps, I didn't really care exactly how nice the bends looked, as long as they all looked the same.  I thought maybe I could build a tool to do the job.

Over the years, I've often read articles, or seen videos, where someone shows how they did a project at home, and they say that you can build what you need with items around your shop.  It would always bug me when they would list a bunch of items that I didn't have around my shop.  It was also frustrating that I didn't have a shop.  So it felt like great progress when I was able to make a small approximation of a sheet metal brake almost entirely from items I had on hand in my garage.  I did end up buying a four-dollar door hinge, but everything else was already laying around.



As has become my trademark, it looks like junk.  But it did get the job done.

The scraps of metal extending off each side of the hinge mostly just serve as levers.  The shape of them is not important, except that they should allow me to work the hinge with some moderate force, and the vertical part of the angle aluminum holds the work piece square to the hinge.

By carefully aligning all these parts the same way each time, you can reproduce identical bends consistently.  The last thing to take care of is the angle of the bend, and that's what the carriage bolt is for.  The carriage bolt is an adjustable stop, so that you just bend the hinge until it contacts the head of the carriage bolt.





There are two more components, which are one more small scrap of steel, and a C-clamp.  The strip of stainless steel to be bent is placed on the hinge, laid alongside the piece of angle aluminum.  The flat side of the angle aluminum holds the strip of stainless steel square.  When the stainless steel is in the right position, it is clamped to the hinge, using the C-clamp.  The small scrap of steel is placed between the C-clamp and the piece of stainless steel, and also held square by butting one of its sides up against the angle aluminum.  So the edge of that scrap steel creates a cleaner edge to the bend than what you would get from the rounded edge on the C-clamp's contact point.

The whole thing is a little bit awkward, but by holding the C-clamp vertically in a bench vise, it all becomes a little bit more manageable.



With all that worked out, I got started working on a first strap by rounding off the end of one of the strips of stainless steel, drilling a mounting hole in it, and bolting it in place on the car.



You can see that the square end of the strap is hanging down onto the painted fill panel between the rear window and the trunk lid, which is why I wanted to get this done before I had to worry about scratching the paint.

It would be perfectly acceptable to just cut this strap to length, round off the other end, drill another hole, and bolt it down.  But, as I said above, I wanted to do a little bit more than that, to make it look like a more finished piece.

I started by propping the upper end of the strap up off of the glass with a small dowel, to get the spacing I wanted.  Then I marked where I wanted the first bend to be, with a Sharpie.



After making some test bends, to set the position of the carriage bolt, and to determine where everything needed to be in order to put the bend in the right place, I felt like I was ready to attempt to make my first piece.  After making my first bend, I could measure its angle, calculate how far away an equal-and-opposite bend would need to be in order to get the correct spacing perpendicular to the glass, and then create that bend.


That photo illustrates the basic idea.  I ended up deciding that I had started those bends too far down the strap, and it was hanging out over the window a bit further than I would have liked.  I ended up scrapping that piece and starting over.  After adjusting the position of those bends, and then repeating the process at the other end of the strap, I had a strap that fit pretty well, although I had to do a little bit of massaging and tweaking to get the fit how I wanted it.




Then I was able to relatively quickly reproduce that part, to make a strap for the other side of the window.  A little more tweaking and fine-tuning, and I was essentially finished.


I am pretty happy with the results.  I pulled the straps off before taking the car back to the body shop, so that they wouldn't be in the way while those guys were doing the final polishing on the paint.

Indulging one last impulse to over-complicate things, I added some gasket material under the contact points of the straps before I installed them for the last time.  I didn't want the stainless steel straps in direct contact with the paint and glass, so I used an adhesive to hold some fibrous gasket material in place.




I also put some thread-sealer on the bolts when I installed them, to try to keep water from collecting in the bolt holes.  The Sharpie marks washed off with Brakleen, but there was some discoloration from where the metal got hot during cutting, so I used some sandpaper to take off that surface discoloration.  There were also some marks left from the forming process when the strips were produced, so I just went over the whole surface with sand paper to try to create a more uniform, light "brushed" look.  Anyway, I guess by that time I had run out of ideas for how to further complicate things, so it was pretty much "job done" at that point.

There were a few other little things that I wanted to do before I drove it up to the body shop, but it was pretty much ready to go.  One of the last things I did was to put in a clutch pedal stop.  When I first installed the clutch master cylinder, my plan was to make the geometry of the pedal linkage such that pushing the pedal to the floor would use the full stroke of the piston in the master cylinder.  That worked out fine, except that I later read that, if you install an aftermarket hydraulic clutch, you really need to put in a pedal stop so that you won't put excessive force on your clutch.  I guess this is because the master cylinder can be matched to the throwout bearing (or slave cylinder) such that a full stroke of the master cylinder gives a full stroke of the throwout bearing, but they don't know what clutch you're using, so a full stroke of the throwout bearing might be excessive travel for the clutch.  For this reason, a pedal stop should be installed, so that you don't push the clutch fingers past their intended point of operation.  Otherwise, "damage may result," as the paperwork often says.

The more you learn, the more you realize you don't know, and I found out about all this pedal stop stuff right around the time that I was doing all this other work.  One possible failure mode, if you don't have a pedal stop, is for one of your hydraulic components to fail and leak all your hydraulic fluid out, and then your clutch doesn't work.  I actually thought I'd learned all this too late after I found a puddle of oil right under the bellhousing after having completed a couple of test drives around the neighborhood.  I thought the throwout bearing had failed a seal and leaked hydraulic fluid onto the floor.  That would have required pulling the transmission to replace the throwout bearing.  Fortunately, it turned out that one of the rocker covers wasn't sealed well, and the puddle was just engine oil that had run down the side of the engine, down the side of the bellhousing, and onto the floor.  Phew.

A lot of pedal stops seem to be mounted on the firewall, such that the pedal will contact the stop at the end of its travel.  I didn't really want to make more holes in the firewall if I could avoid it, and I was kind of running out of real estate in that area, anyway.  There were already a couple of unused bolt holes drilled through the pedal arm from my first failed attempt at mounting the clutch linkage, so I thought maybe I could use those to mount something on the clutch pedal arm, and that could contact the firewall at the end of the pedal's travel.  The simplest thing I could think of was to make a bracket out of a piece of angle iron, so that I could mount a carriage bolt that would be pointed at the firewall.  I already had a pretty stout piece of angle iron laying around, so I cut that down to what I wanted and put some holes in it.



The two holes are used to bolt it to the pedal, and a long carriage bolt passes through the single hole, with a nut on each side to hold it in place.  That way, the pedal travel can be adjusted by adjusting the position of the carriage bolt.



That all worked out pretty well.  The directions I found for adjustment said to find the point where the clutch engages/disengages by jacking one driven wheel off the ground and operating the clutch pedal with the car in gear while someone tries to turn the wheel by hand, then to set the limit of the pedal's travel about a quarter inch past that point of engagement.  Like I said, I was running out of real estate on the firewall, and this adjustment was complicated somewhat when I tried to set the proper travel and the head of the carriage bolt landed right on the head of one of the bolts for the brake booster.  That held the pedal  too high, but when I tried to adjust the carriage bolt to allow the pedal to travel further, then it would miss the other bolt head and the pedal would drop too far.  I messed around with it a few times and finally thought I got it adjusted to where the travel was correct.  BUT...

...fast-forward to the future, and after I got the car back from the body shop, I was having trouble getting used to the clutch operation.  It felt like it was sticking, or hanging up, at the bottom of its travel.  When I took a look down in the footwell to investigate, I found that the carriage bolt was deflecting just enough for the edge of its head to pop past the head of the bolt for the brake booster.  So, the pedal stop was "latching" onto the other bolt, in effect.



So each time I released the clutch pedal, I had to take off enough force for that bolt head to pop loose, but then the pedal would want to spring up rapidly and I'd have to "catch" it before the clutch engaged.  It's a very awkward way to try to operate a manual transmission.  I solved the problem by removing the carriage bolt and grinding down the outside diameter of its head until it would clear the head of the other bolt.  Things seemed to operate smoothly after that.

The only other major thing I wanted to get done before taking the car back to the body shop was a front-end alignment.  Alignments aren't cheap, and I don't like to hand my keys to someone else if I can avoid it, so I decided to try out one of these do-your-own-alignments-at-home deals.  These can cost upwards of $400, depending which one you get, but an alignment is probably going to cost over $100, so it doesn't take long to justify the cost, if the tool works.  I found one for just over $200 that seemed to have all the important features of the more expensive ones.  I was really glad that my buddy Allen came down to help me with it, because it's a tedious process that I think would have been even more tedious (although not impossible) if I was doing it by myself.  The kit seems to work pretty well, though, and the results seem to be repeatable.  I have ended up adjusting the toe-in several times, and I have been pleased with the results.  The measurements seem to be consistent and predictable.

Anyway, at that point I couldn't think of any more excuses for not taking it back to the body shop, so I stopped by one day to see if they had any floor space for me.  I was kind of surprised they even recognized me when I walked in, considering it had been almost two years since the last time they saw me, and I assume they had had more than a few different people come through in that time.  But, they gave me a warm welcome and we all stood around for a little while and I told them about the stripped head bolt hole in the engine block, and pulling everything apart again, and they winced and made noises like they'd been through that kind of thing before, which made me feel better.  There are a lot of reasons why I'm glad I took the car to a body shop for the paint and body work, but probably the best thing about it has been these times when the conversation takes a turn where I feel like they're relating to me as if I'm one of them, and not just a customer.  There are so many times when I feel like I'm flailing around in the garage, feeling like I don't know what I'm doing and I'm fouling everything up, so it's really satisfying, and kind of reassuring, to talk to someone who does that work for a living, tell them about something that went wrong for me and I thought maybe I screwed it up, and have them just laugh and say something like, "Oh, yeah, that's the way it always goes," or something like that.  Anyway, they said they had room for the car whenever I wanted to bring it, so we made a plan that I'd bring it up the next Friday.

I was pretty nervous, driving it up there.  There was no reason to think that anything was going to go wrong, but it was just the unknown of not having driven it that far before.  I packed a toolbox full of everything I could imagine I might need, and I wore clothes that I wouldn't mind laying on the side of the road in, in case I had to crawl underneath the car to try and fix something.  The car still had no grille, no front bumper, no trim around the headlights, no interior carpeting, etc.  I checked the traffic before I left, and there was a wreck on 410 that had traffic backed up, so I took I-10 to 35 instead, which added a little bit of mileage to the trip but kept me out of traffic pretty well.

All in all, the trip went fine.  As soon as I got on I-10, I had a couple flashbacks to Bertha.  First off, the Impala is just such a big car, and the seating position is so different from what I'd gotten used to in the truck, it just felt kind of uncomfortable to drive, like every part of the car was about to scrape on everything around me.  It reminded me of the first time I test drove Bertha on 290 and it just didn't feel like there was enough room on the interstate for so much car.  Driving the Impala to the body shop, I realized that I was way over on the left side of my lane, because the car just felt so big that I was leaving way too much room on my right.  I think you can see Jay Leno doing the same thing, hugging the dotted line, at the beginning of this video about one of Steve Strope's builds that I like a lot (I've linked to this video before, in another entry, but I like this car a lot, so why not another link).

The other thing that reminded me of Bertha was just the heat from the engine.  With no carpeting, nothing to close off the fresh air vents, and no other interior to speak of, there was a lot of heat from the engine making its way inside the car, and it reminded me of driving the Monte Carlo on hot days, pulling up at stop signs and a cross-breeze would carry a bunch of heat from the headers up through the open window.  Thinking about that made me realize, this was Bertha's engine (block, at least), and this was the first time I'd driven it in over five years.  That was pretty cool to think about, being "reunited."

Anyway, the car made it up there, some 30+ miles.  I discovered a few things on the drive up there that I knew I'd have to fix later, but she made it up there without any significant trouble.  I stood around with the guys at the shop while they looked over what I'd done and commented on a couple things they liked, which was nice.  Obviously, just getting the car up there was a major milestone for me, and I was excited knowing that the project was about to make a major leap forward as they completed their work.  More on that, still to come.

I took some pictures while I waited for my buddy Allen to come pick me up.







 

Friday, November 30, 2018

second first fire

OK, so in my last entry I covered most of the work that got done while the engine was out of the car to be balanced and to repair some threads in the block.  At the end of that entry, the engine had just been re-assembled and re-installed in the car.  There were a few more jobs to do before I was ready to start the engine for the first time after re-installing it, though, and a few more jobs to be done after that before the car was ready to go back to the body shop.

Towards the end of a very long, rambling entry from a about a million years ago, I talked about installing the radiator for the first time, and fitting a fan shroud to that radiator.  I also mentioned, in that post, that I had some concerns about the shroud I was using, and that I had considered using a "universal" fan shroud before settling on the reproduction 1965 shroud.

When I think of a fan shroud, and when you hear people attempt to troubleshoot a car with overheating problems, typically a lot of importance is placed on sealing the forward edge of the shroud to the radiator, and properly spacing the trailing edge of the shroud from the fan blades.  The idea is to try to make sure that all the air going through the radiator has to go through the fan, and vice versa.  The reproduction 1965 shroud was spaced well around the fan blades, but the front side of it left huge gaps where air could flow around the fan, instead of through it.  It is really more of a ring suspended around the fan, rather than a shroud that constrains airflow through the radiator.  The photo below shows the 1965-style shroud, removed from the car.



In the next photo below, you can see the shroud installed on the radiator, and how it leaves a lot of open area on the back of the radiator.



On the one hand, more than one million 1965 Impalas were sold, so the design of the fan shroud in 1965 must have worked OK.  On the other hand, it seemed like maybe it could be made to work better.

Once I had everything out of the car, it seemed like a good opportunity to take one last stab at re-thinking the fan shroud situation.  I decided to do some research, and see whether Chevrolet engineers had thought that maybe the fan shroud could be made to work better.  From 1965-1970, the Impala body work saw some face-lifts, massages and tweaks, but the underpinnings were essentially the same through those years.  When I searched for fan shrouds from later years, I found that the shroud for 1967-68 big block Impalas looked a lot more like what I had in mind.  I didn't know for sure that it would fit the 1965 Impala, but I suspected it would.  I ordered one, to find out.

As it turned out, the 1967-68 shroud fit my 1965 pretty well.  The opening around the fan was at the right distance from the radiator, and it was the right size opening for the diameter of the fan I have.  The flanges along the sides of the shroud, where it mounts to the radiator, were at the right width to match the radiator.  The only problem was, there was a gap all along the entire width of the top and bottom edges of the shroud, maybe something like 3/8" wide.  My best guess is that this was due to the fact that I was using an aluminum aftermarket radiator, and it must not have exactly the same shape as the stock factory radiator.  It was advertised as being a "factory fit," but I already learned when I installed it that it wasn't perfect.

The problem with having gaps along the edges of the shroud is that it provides a path for air to flow through that gap, instead of through the radiator.  The fan is trying to move some amount of air, and it's going to pull that air through the path of least resistance.  There is some resistance to the airflow through the radiator, because it has to pass through all the tiny passages between the radiator fins.  So the fan can pull hot air from around the engine through the gaps, which means that it is pulling less cool air from outside the car through the radiator.  The shroud probably would have worked fine as it was, most of the time, but when I think about being stuck in traffic on I-35, on an August afternoon in Texas, I wanted to do everything I could to maximize the effectiveness of the cooling system.

In order to close up the gaps, I came up with a plan to use a couple pieces of angle aluminum.  But first, I had to start by temporarily mounting the shroud on the radiator, with the engine and fan in place, so that I could determine where the shroud had to be located in order to properly center its opening on the fan.  Then I could mark where the shroud would go on the radiator, pull the radiator out of the car, put the shroud in place on just the radiator, and start looking at what kind of shapes I would need to close off the gaps.

After getting an idea of what I needed, I just started cutting away aluminum until I was left with what I needed.  There's an old saying attributed to Native Americans that, to make a canoe, you just cut down a tree and then carve away everything that isn't a canoe.  Similarly, my favorite car magazine writer, David Freiburger, likes to say that to make a piece of fine art, you just start with a block of marble and chip away everything that isn't a naked woman.  Starting with a length of angle aluminum, that's basically how I made these flanges.

The next two photos below show the pieces I made.  In the first photo, the top piece is an uncut piece of angle aluminum, to show what I started with.  The lower piece in the first photo is one of the flanges I made.



The next photo shows the two pieces that I made, one for the top edge of the shroud, and one for the bottom edge.


Finally, the next photo shows the two pieces installed on the shroud.  I used pop rivets to hold the aluminum flanges to the shroud.


You can see that there are two sets of mounting holes in the sides of the shroud.  I would like to tell you that one set of holes was in the part when I got it, and that I added the second set of holes to correct the location of the shroud.  I would like to tell you that, but I think I probably screwed up the first set of holes, and then had to make the second set.  I don't really remember, though, to be honest.  Looking at the locations of the holes, it kind of looks like maybe I had the shroud upside-down when I made the first set of holes, and then had to flip it over and make more holes?  I don't know.

Anyway, once the radiator was back in the car, with the shroud bolted in place, you can see in the photo below, right in the middle of the photo, on the upper corner of the shroud, you can see one end of the upper aluminum flange, pop-riveted in place.


The photo below might be the best illustration of what the flange is actually doing.  If you look in the gap between the aluminum radiator tank on the left, and the black fan shroud on the right (with "CAUTION" sticker on top), you can see a narrow strip of aluminum down in that gap.  That is the flange, sealing off the gap.


The flanges aren't perfect, there are still small gaps here and there, especially where I had to create a relief to clear the upper radiator hose.  But, I think it's a better arrangement than what I started with, anyway.

With the engine and transmission back in the car, all the fluids filled, all the connections connected, and the new fan shroud installed, etc., I was ready to start the engine again for the first time since tearing it apart for repair and balancing.  The second first fire went pretty smoothly.  The engine started, and ran, and stopped.  It didn't leak.  It didn't shake.  But, there were a couple of new problems.  One problem was that the engine idled poorly and seemed to have an intermittent ignition miss.  The other problem was that when I tried to put the car in gear, the gears would grind as if the clutch was not disengaged.

I wanted to address the rough idle first.  At idle, it sounded like the engine had an intermittent misfire, and when the engine seemed to miss, the tachometer needle would jump erratically.  My buddy Allen had come down to help with the second first fire, and he used a timing light to verify that the ignition signal was cutting out whenever we heard the miss, while I sat in the car and modulated the gas pedal to keep the engine running.  Neither one of us remembered having a rough idle when we did the original first fire, so I started by trying to think about what had been changed since then.  There hadn't been any changes to the ignition system, so then I started checking all of the wiring connections that had been disconnected and re-connected during the engine removal and re-installation.  But I couldn't find anything wrong with any of those connections.

It didn't make any sense to me, but since the issue seemed to clearly be ignition-related, I started trying to troubleshoot the ignition system.  I had chosen to install a Pertronix distributor, which looks like a stock distributor but replaces the stock points with a transistorized ignition system.  Because I had already double- and triple-checked all the connections, I decided to send an e-mail to Pertronix's tech support site.  I wasn't expecting much help, and in fact I hadn't even ruled out the possibility that I would never get a reply at all.  Seems like a lot of tech support sites are pretty useless.  But, I actually got a reply the very next day.  The guy said that problems like what I was describing were typically due to either power or ground issues, and he sent me a troubleshooting sheet with recommended steps.

I was astonished and delighted to have gotten a reply so quickly, but I was not real optimistic about the reply I had gotten.  "Check your grounds" seems to always be the experts' (and also "experts") response when looking for help with electrical troubleshooting on automotive systems, and it rarely seems to lead to actual solutions for me.  But, the nice thing about the troubleshooting sheet that the guy sent me was, they actually quantified what a "good" ground was.  The sheet said that the system required no more than 0.2ohms of resistance between the ignition module and the battery ground.  When I measured that resistance, I measured something like 1.6ohms.

I was still skeptical as to whether this would actually cause the symptoms I had with the car idling badly, but a very smart guy I used to work with (see also, "Paperwork") would always say, "Take away their excuses," when working on stuff like this.  The idea being, when you are at someone else's mercy to make progress on your project, and they keep throwing up excuses or reasons or policies that are impeding your progress, just start taking away the excuses until there are none left.  If they want you to check the thing that you already told them isn't the problem, check it anyway, so that you can move on to the next thing.  If they tell you that you can't do what you're trying to do without a permit, go get the permit.  And continue like that, until you get to where you're trying to go.  At some point, either they'll be proven wrong and you'll all learn something new, or maybe it will turn out that they're right, but either way, you will resolve your problem.

A lot of people like to tell stories about how they proved somebody wrong in this type of situation.  This is not one of those stories.  In this case, it turned out that Pertronix was right.  When I measured 1.6ohms between the ignition module and the battery ground, I started measuring the resistance of individual cables and components between the module and ground.  The cables all had very low resistance, but the battery cut-off switch that I had installed in the dash had a resistance of 1.5ohms all by itself.  I bypassed the switch, checked how the car idled, and it idled fine.  Terrific news.  I bought a few necessary items, re-arranged some cables, and changed the configuration of my battery cut-off switch so that now it cuts the battery positive connection, instead of the ground, and the battery ground cable runs directly to the engine block.  I can now measure 0.1ohms between the ignition module and the battery ground, and the car idles fine.

So that left me with my other problem, which was that I couldn't shift the car into gear with the engine running.  The clutch didn't seem to be disengaging properly.

I had had the same problem when we did the first first fire, and at the time I assumed that I had not adjusted the hydraulic throwout bearing for the clutch correctly.  To try to figure out what the problem was, I got under the car with the engine shut off and the transmission in gear, and with the front of the car jacked up and the rear wheels on the garage floor.  I had someone else hold the clutch pedal to the floor, and I tried to turn the driveshaft by hand.  I could turn it relatively easily, although it felt like there was some drag on it.  With the engine off, the transmission in gear and the clutch engaged, I should not be able to turn the driveshaft.  I verified that by trying the same test with the clutch pedal released.  With the clutch pedal released, I couldn't turn the driveshaft.  This verified that the clutch pedal was operating the clutch, but for some reason there seemed to be some drag on the shaft, and I couldn't put the car in gear with the engine running.  I thought, based on that, that maybe I had not adjusted the hydraulic throwout bearing properly, and maybe it was not traveling quite far enough to fully release the clutch, so that the pressure plate was still dragging slightly on the friction disc.

Working with that theory, after the engine came out of the car for repair, when I had everything apart, I took another look at the throwout bearing adjustment.  I measured it and double- and triple-checked it every way I could think of, and it still looked to me like I had had it adjusted it correctly according to the directions.  But I knew that there had been some drag on the driveshaft, and I knew that I couldn't put the transmission in gear with the engine running.  As a result, I decided that I must not be measuring correctly, and I decided that when I put everything back together, I would purposely adjust the throwout bearing a little bit closer to the clutch fingers, so that it would have enough travel to fully disengage the clutch.

However, as I've already described, once everything was back together and the engine had been started again, etc., I discovered that I still couldn't shift the transmission into gear without grinding gears.  The clutch still didn't seem to be disengaging properly.  Getting under the car and repeating the driveshaft test with someone else operating the clutch pedal still gave the same result, as well.

Some internet searches turned up multiple stories about people who had similar symptoms, which they attributed to the clutch friction disc sticking to the pressure plate.  The "fix" that everyone gave was typically something along the lines of starting the engine in gear and then disengaging the clutch and slamming on the brakes to break the friction disc loose, or something along those lines.

It didn't really make sense to me that the friction disc could be sticking to the pressure plate securely enough to keep me from putting the transmission in gear, though.  For one thing, when I'd pulled the engine and transmission out of the car after the first first fire, the friction disc had dropped right out as I disassembled things.  It didn't seem to be stuck to anything.  And for another thing, if it was really stuck that securely, then I shouldn't be able to turn the driveshaft by hand, even with the clutch pedal depressed.

So, I started thinking, if the clutch appears to be working properly, what else can transmit friction from the engine to the input shaft of the transmission?  As I thought through it, there was only one thing:  the pilot bushing in the tail end of the crankshaft.

There is a bronze bushing, called the pilot bushing, which presses in to the tail end of the crankshaft, and its function is to support the front end of the transmission input shaft.  It is the only thing connected to the crankshaft which should be touching anything connected to the transmission input shaft when the clutch is disengaged, so I decided that this must be the problem.

I figured there were at least three ways that I could end up with excessive friction between the pilot bushing and the input shaft:  first, it could just be a tight fit; either the bushing could be a little too small, or the shaft could be a little too big.  Second, the transmission could be radially misaligned with the engine, so that there was some side-force between the two.  Third, the transmission could have an angular misalignment with the engine, which would also create excessive friction where the input shaft fit into the pilot bushing.

I didn't think an angular misalignment seemed likely, as the transmission should be mounted square to the engine by the bellhousing.  A defective bellhousing was possible, but seemed unlikely.  I was somewhat worried, however, about a radial misalignment.  I talked in an earlier entry, from way back in 2014, about the process of measuring the runout when mounting an aftermarket bellhousing.  And I also mentioned, in another earlier entry, that I had had some issues with easily aligning the transmission during installation.  So based on all this, I was somewhat concerned that I might have fouled up the runout check, and that maybe the transmission was not properly aligned to the engine.

Anyway, I was going to have to remove the transmission from the car again in order to check for misalignment, and I wanted to set the throwout bearing adjustment back within specifications, as well.  So I decided to start by pulling the transmission out of the car again.  

At this point, the transmission had been in and out of the car several times, and I already knew what a hassle it was.  The Muncie four-speed has a rounded bottom, and I am lazy so I always try to pull the transmission without unbolting the shifter from the side of it.  I use a jack to support the weight of the transmission, but the rounded bottom combined with the weight of the shifter on the side means that the transmission is constantly trying to roll off the side of the jack.  It can be pretty awkward to try to wrestle with it under the car.  I wanted to come up with a better way of controlling the transmission as I maneuvered it in and out of the car, so I made a plan to create a cradle that would secure the transmission to the jack during installation and removal.

I discovered that the cradle that came with my floor jack will actually just lift out, and is only held in place by gravity.



That made it easy to start thinking about designing a cradle for the transmission, which could also just drop into that hole in the jack.

I took some measurements, took a look at McMaster-Carr's website, and I ordered some 1/4" steel plate, and a length of 1-1/8" steel rod.



Before I started cutting up my steel, though, I first wanted to make a cardboard mock-up of what my cradle would look like.

I started off with grand ideas of a cradle that would really cradle the transmission, support it in several places and keep it from rolling around.  A combination of laziness and limited resources, however, motivated me to rapidly simplify, and after going through some mental revisions, I ended up with a somewhat different plan.  The base of the cradle would just be a flat piece of 1/4" steel plate, with a stub of 1-1/8" steel rod extending off the bottom of it, to engage the hole in the jack.  In order to keep the transmission from rolling, though, I would just make a bracket off of the steel plate, which would bolt to the bracket on the transmission where the switch for the reverse lights mounts.  I always remove that switch from the transmission before removing the transmission, because the wiring for the switch runs inside the car and cannot be disconnected under the car, so the switch has to be removed if the transmission is going to be removed.  That means that the bracket will always be available during transmission removal/installation.

I mocked up a cradle using cardboard for the base, and paper for the bracket that would bolt to the reverse light switch bracket.



The paper portion had to be carefully shaped, and slotted in a few locations, in order to clear some features on the transmission.  I wanted to have a couple of vertical folds in it, for strength, as I was planning to use relatively thin steel sheet, and I didn't want it to just buckle under the transmission's weight.

After I had created the cardboard/paper mock-up, I disassembled it, flattened out the paper portion, and traced that onto a piece of sheet metal.


I cut that out...


...and folded it up to create the bracket I wanted.  Then I bolted that to my piece of 1/4" steel plate, to form the transmission cradle.



You may have noticed that it's not real pretty.  After some test-fitting on the transmission, I added some shims under the vertical bracket, to get the spacing right.  You can also see two holes in the middle of the plate.  I used a countersunk hole and an appropriate bolt to attach the length of steel rod that would sit in the jack, but I made in the hole in the wrong location on the first try, so I ended up with two holes.



So it's not real pretty, but it does sit in the jack...


 ...and it does hold a transmission:



This all took some time and effort.  In addition to the planning and mock-up and cutting and assembly, just cutting through 1/4" steel plate and 1-1/8" steel rod with a 4-1/2" cut-off wheel on a Harbor Freight angle grinder requires a little bit of patience.  But there is no doubt that the effort was worth it, as removing and installing the transmission was an absolute breeze compared to previous efforts.

With the transmission out of the car, I made another measurement of runout between the bellhousing and the crankshaft.  It seemed to be within spec.  I re-adjusted the throwout bearing back to the specified clearance, and got ready to put the transmission back in the car.

By this time, I had spent a lot of time thinking about the symptoms of my clutch problem, and what the cause might be, and I had developed a theory.  My theory was that sometimes new pilot bushings are tight and need to be worn in, and also that everyone online who thought their friction disc was sticking to their pressure plate had also had tight pilot bushings, which they mistakenly assumed were sticking friction discs.  Based on their descriptions of various methods of breaking their friction discs (i.e., actually their pilot bushings) loose, and based on the fact that I knew that I could turn my driveshaft by hand with the clutch disengaged, I figured it shouldn't take much force at all to get the transmission input shaft broken loose from the pilot bushing in the crankshaft.

Based on all that, I made a plan to put the transmission back in the car, and then to put the car on the floor, put it in fourth gear, hold the clutch pedal down, hold the brake pedal down, and start the engine.  I figured that putting the transmission in fourth gear would give the brakes the maximum mechanical advantage over the engine.  I didn't, after all, want to end up accidentally driving the car into my kitchen.  I chocked the wheels, too, just in case.

This all ended up being satisfyingly anticlimactic.  When I started the car, there wasn't even a hint of a lurch, or any other sign of the car trying to move forward.  It just started and idled.  Even better still, after letting it idle like that for a minute or so, I took it out of fourth gear, and was then able to shift it into first gear, with the engine running, for the first time.  I shifted it into second, third, and back into fourth again.  I shifted it into reverse.  I shifted it back into first again, took a deep breath, and I let the clutch pedal up and moved the car forward a couple feet.  I took it out of first gear, put it in reverse, and moved the car back a couple feet.  The car had moved under its own power for the first time.  A monumental achievement after more than four years of effort.  There was a beer consumed that night.


There was a little bit of work still to do before I was ready to drive the car back to the body shop, and I had planned to cover that in this entry, but this seems like a good place to stop for now.  More to come, next time.