1960 Valiant Restore: advice welcomed.
True that.
So, I called this fellow from Performance Automotive Group, other side of town, on the advice of a vintage car club. Though the gas gauge didn't work, figured I had plenty of gas to get over there. Three miles out she spluttered to a stop and I called for a tow and sat reflecting on my sins of assumption.
The tow truck pulls up, and I step out, the door shutting behind me, and that's when I remembered the doors lock automatically and I am now locked out. He doesn't have a jimmy, so we're scouting about and to my amazement I find that I left the passenger vent window unlocked, and I can just barely not reach the keys, because for some reason the door handle won't release (I found later it was just sticky). But, with some effort I manage to roll the window down and retrieve the keys.
The motor turns over once, then nothing. Dead battery. So, that quickly remedied with a jump and down the road we go until the engine starts to overheat.
Brilliant, the roadway is bordered by Jersey Knees on each side so I tease it a few miles, praying to the cylinder head gods to not let the head warp, until I can pull over. Didn't dare shut it off, so I gingerly release the radiator cap and the over flow hose comes to life like an angry serpent, slashing this way and that shooting out a rusty stream of scalding hot water. Finally, get enough pressure off to add some water, and limp in to Performance Motors and Restoration.
One good thing, if I didn't blow the head gasket, is I discovered that whoopee, the windshield wiper switch works, and the wipers work. I didn't realize you pull the knob outward, not try to turn it. Anemic, and will be just enough to keep up with a slow drizzle, but it works. And we get very little in the way of rain out here.
The yard had a '67 two door, with a Slant Six with a turbocharger, and the mechanic guy said, that yes, they spoke Slant 6. The head mechanic appeared older than Father Time, but seemed unfazed at the idea of getting the speedo up and running. I just hope he lives long enough to finish the job. Or I do.
Well, following the good advice of Junkyard Hero, et al, will get these little odds and ends done. Mexican blanket, too, though I would like to be able to sit without being skewered by old springs. Need a tetanus shot just to sit in it.
True that.
So, I called this fellow from Performance Automotive Group, other side of town, on the advice of a vintage car club. Though the gas gauge didn't work, figured I had plenty of gas to get over there. Three miles out she spluttered to a stop and I called for a tow and sat reflecting on my sins of assumption.
The tow truck pulls up, and I step out, the door shutting behind me, and that's when I remembered the doors lock automatically and I am now locked out. He doesn't have a jimmy, so we're scouting about and to my amazement I find that I left the passenger vent window unlocked, and I can just barely not reach the keys, because for some reason the door handle won't release (I found later it was just sticky). But, with some effort I manage to roll the window down and retrieve the keys.
The motor turns over once, then nothing. Dead battery. So, that quickly remedied with a jump and down the road we go until the engine starts to overheat.
Brilliant, the roadway is bordered by Jersey Knees on each side so I tease it a few miles, praying to the cylinder head gods to not let the head warp, until I can pull over. Didn't dare shut it off, so I gingerly release the radiator cap and the over flow hose comes to life like an angry serpent, slashing this way and that shooting out a rusty stream of scalding hot water. Finally, get enough pressure off to add some water, and limp in to Performance Motors and Restoration.
One good thing, if I didn't blow the head gasket, is I discovered that whoopee, the windshield wiper switch works, and the wipers work. I didn't realize you pull the knob outward, not try to turn it. Anemic, and will be just enough to keep up with a slow drizzle, but it works. And we get very little in the way of rain out here.
The yard had a '67 two door, with a Slant Six with a turbocharger, and the mechanic guy said, that yes, they spoke Slant 6. The head mechanic appeared older than Father Time, but seemed unfazed at the idea of getting the speedo up and running. I just hope he lives long enough to finish the job. Or I do.
Well, following the good advice of Junkyard Hero, et al, will get these little odds and ends done. Mexican blanket, too, though I would like to be able to sit without being skewered by old springs. Need a tetanus shot just to sit in it.
