From the pasture; The valiant story of my '66 Valiant
So I had the a long weekend off from work due to Labor Day which was glorious. So with time off, what did Kirk do?
And but of course, I decide to spend the day in the shop. I show up early, open up the doors, turn on the music and spend the first hour and a half just cleaning. After that, its Plymouth time. Since I had no idea what the brake system is even like at all, I want to get her up in the air and inspect-able. Upon stands you go, lemme get them wheels real quick.
Now based on its time in a pasture, I was assuming the rear drums would be stuck. Well that's a big nope. Wheel off and I bumped the drum with my shin, THAR SHE BLOWS.
This side, the drivers rear) doesn't look overly bad inside. The spiders I displaced were not happy, and they left behind their dead, but I care not for them! The drums look like warmed over and hammered poo however.
In addition to spiders, I also have my share of mud dobbers to deal with. Luckily i have a very surgical method of removing them, as to preserve their way of life.
So, sparing you the boring, drug out details, I redid the rear brakes. New shoes, wheel cylinders and all. I hate drum brakes with a white hot burning passion. The parts, the springs, the adjustments. So tedious. Yet, less tedious than a disc brake conversion, so I'll just shut up now. These brakes are tiny anyway, so they were relatively painless. Emphasis on the word relatively. Once the rear brakes were done (and while waiting on my hardline, master cylinder conversion kit from inline tube on eBay) I pulled the rear shocks. They might have had some life left in them, but I doubt it. They also look like they lived in a pineapple under the sea, so we can't have that either. They came off surprisingly easy, for their age. To the trash, and the dumpster says thankyee.
So shocks off, in an act that can only be described as having extra time on my hands, and not liking what i see every time I peek under m'lady's skirt, I decided to clean up the rear axle some. As was explained to me, repeatedly, this isn't a show stopper, its a survivor car, but that axle is pretty ugly. Lets see what a bit of elbow grease and some Rustoleum will do.
So I put my lil wire brush on my drill and buzzed all that crap off. For $2 at Harbor Freight, that little wheel is easy peasy. I like it better than my grinder with a wire wheel, because I could get it right where I wanted it to be.
It was about that time that I really wanted to clean out my home garage, and bring the Plymouth closer so I could tinker more frequently. Once the garage was moderately clean (and I damn near gave my self heatstroke AGAIN) getting it done, I threw the wheels on, and loaded her up. To home we go!
So I had the a long weekend off from work due to Labor Day which was glorious. So with time off, what did Kirk do?
- Cook delicious meats
- Sit on his rump
- Any number of actual productive things that need doing
- Spent time in a hot freakin shop tinkering on a derelict Plymouth
And but of course, I decide to spend the day in the shop. I show up early, open up the doors, turn on the music and spend the first hour and a half just cleaning. After that, its Plymouth time. Since I had no idea what the brake system is even like at all, I want to get her up in the air and inspect-able. Upon stands you go, lemme get them wheels real quick.
Now based on its time in a pasture, I was assuming the rear drums would be stuck. Well that's a big nope. Wheel off and I bumped the drum with my shin, THAR SHE BLOWS.
This side, the drivers rear) doesn't look overly bad inside. The spiders I displaced were not happy, and they left behind their dead, but I care not for them! The drums look like warmed over and hammered poo however.
In addition to spiders, I also have my share of mud dobbers to deal with. Luckily i have a very surgical method of removing them, as to preserve their way of life.
So, sparing you the boring, drug out details, I redid the rear brakes. New shoes, wheel cylinders and all. I hate drum brakes with a white hot burning passion. The parts, the springs, the adjustments. So tedious. Yet, less tedious than a disc brake conversion, so I'll just shut up now. These brakes are tiny anyway, so they were relatively painless. Emphasis on the word relatively. Once the rear brakes were done (and while waiting on my hardline, master cylinder conversion kit from inline tube on eBay) I pulled the rear shocks. They might have had some life left in them, but I doubt it. They also look like they lived in a pineapple under the sea, so we can't have that either. They came off surprisingly easy, for their age. To the trash, and the dumpster says thankyee.
So shocks off, in an act that can only be described as having extra time on my hands, and not liking what i see every time I peek under m'lady's skirt, I decided to clean up the rear axle some. As was explained to me, repeatedly, this isn't a show stopper, its a survivor car, but that axle is pretty ugly. Lets see what a bit of elbow grease and some Rustoleum will do.
So I put my lil wire brush on my drill and buzzed all that crap off. For $2 at Harbor Freight, that little wheel is easy peasy. I like it better than my grinder with a wire wheel, because I could get it right where I wanted it to be.
It was about that time that I really wanted to clean out my home garage, and bring the Plymouth closer so I could tinker more frequently. Once the garage was moderately clean (and I damn near gave my self heatstroke AGAIN) getting it done, I threw the wheels on, and loaded her up. To home we go!