Captainkirk's Duster project

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lmao . . . . I'm just curious. Right, I haven't posted pics yet . . . still working on the house. Rog (2/3 done?? I'm impressed!!)

.......and I'm half dead! I'm gettin' too old for this stuff, Rog! But I guess I'll carry on. Next step is gonna be dropping the rear end and springs & shackles, then the tank so I can get at the other 3rd. Compared to what I've been doing, I'm looking forward to that! At least I can say this is probably the worst part of the resto; once it's behind me the rest oughta be a cakewalk.
Besides, I've been working on my house for damn near 30 years and it's still not finished. Why bother? LOL!:munky2:
 
wow I just read it from start to current and thank you for taking the time to write out all the memories. keep up the good work, I wish you were closer I would be happy to do some rust removal for motor work, I hate working on engines, paint and body on the other hand....
 
LMAO working on your house for 30 years . . . but I know what yer talkin about . . . but I got this little angel guy parked on my shoulder ("I oughta beltcha . . .") shooting guilt arrows at me . . . my plan was to finish up main projects on the house this year then I can dive into it, tehn I can slap that angel guy off me shoulder . . . let me know how easy hard your tank is to remove, I have to drop mine too . . . Rog
 
wow I just read it from start to current and thank you for taking the time to write out all the memories.

How long did it take ya? Last time I re-read it, it was like, 3 hours!!LOL
Thanks for taking the time to read it. I only hope I didn't bore you.

my plan was to finish up main projects on the house this year then I can dive into it, tehn I can slap that angel guy off me shoulder . .

Yeah, like I haven't said that before!!! Nothing wrong with listening to the little guy on your shoulder, but you know what they say about procrastination....."I was thinking about procrastinating today, but I'll decide tomorrow".
 
it took about 2 nights reading as much as I could before I passed out, in all about 4 hours I think, I had to absorb as much as I could.
 
Well, that was certainly an eye-opener! Moving forward with my devious plan to get the bottom side finished prior to the onset of winter, I continued on my odyssey by pulling the fuel tank. I decided not to repeat last weeks folly of snapping off a bolt by not waiting long enough for the AeroKroil to do it's job. So I hosed down the offending appendages with said elixir and waited while I pondered the contents of several bottles of ice cold water. After holding the bolts down with Vise Grips, I was able to work the nuts to and fro until I felt they would walk off without binding and snapping the strap bolts. This time patience paid off, and the thirty-something year old nuts gave up their grip on time and slowly backed their way off until I had enough slack in the straps to unhook them. Testing the tank with my arm, I realized there must be several gallons of gas still in this thing. Visions of the tank tipping and spilling gas all over the trouble light made me realize I was in no hurry to do my Richard Pryor imitation, so I carefully raised up a piece of board on the floor jack to support the tank while I performed my shenanigans. Probably a wise choice. Realizing I needed to pull the filler neck, I popped the fuel cap to get at the screws and was promptly rewarded by the most unholy stench I've ever encountered on any vehicle, ever!!! The fuel in this tank must be, no kidding, at leat 25 years old. Once the filler neck was out, the stench permeated the garage. I was reluctant to open the door as the mosquitos were in a feeding frenzy, even inside the garage with the door shut! Ever so slowly and carefully, I lowered the tank with the jack until I could wheel the whole shebang out from under the car. Now I had one eye screwed shut, wincing from the ripe smell of stale gasoline. I couldn't stand it any more. I opened the door and carried the tank and filler out into the driveway. My first thought had been to dump the old gas on the weeds growing up through the gravel in the driveway. No way. It would reek for months to come and I'd catch hell from the wife. Next thought was to walk the tank out to the middle of out cul-de-sac and just dump it on the asphalt. Nobody would know where it came from, right? I even went so far as to duck-walk the tank out to the street before I realized that, hey, this stuff was just too toxic for a stunt like this. So I duck-walked it back and struck upon a brilliant idea; I had a five gallon bucket with a top on it. I grabbed a funnel from the garage and emptied the contents(???) into the bucket, holding my breath as best I could. In the light streaming out from the open garage door, I could see the nasty stuff, almost a creamy yellow, full of rust, water, and who knows what else. Just think; I was gonna try to START this thing a couple years ago??? I capped off the pail and stuck it by the fence, unsure what to do with it. I'll figure out something, eventually.
Crawling under the car, I was pleasantly surprised to see the area covered by the tank to be clean and rust-free. Almost like it just left the factory. Amazing; there's not much left here, really. Once the rear end's outta the way I oughta be able to clip through the remainder of this task like a gang mower on a golf course.
 
Pix.........

tank1.jpg


tank2.jpg
 
Look on the bright side, at least you didn't get a mouthful of that crap trying to siphon it out of the tank. It tastes a lot worse than it smells. Don't ask.
 
Sooooo......you thought you were gonna get a bunch of pictures, eh? WRONG! The Eye Candy I'm referring to is the flake of rust that dropped down off the tank straps and somehow skirted the lens of my glasses and dropped into my waiting eyeball. Didn't think much of it until this morning when I woke up, realizing that whatever was in there last night was still there and hurting....well, hurting like hell, to put it bluntly. My left eye was all red and teary. I looked and found nothing. I flushed it with cold water; nothing. Flushed it again; no dice. Fortunately, being a Saturday, I didn't have to work or drive. I waited it out and popped a couple aspirin. Gradually, about 3:00 pm this afternoon, the pain began to subside. The eyeball is still bloodshot and aches a bit, but the sharp pains are gone. Whew! I was afraid of doing an ER visit. Needless to say, the fight's kinda gone outta me tonight and all is quiet out in Dukesville tonight. But I'll spend some time on the forum here and online at YearOne looking for fuel tank and line pieces. See ya later. LOL!:glasses9:
 
Thornton (The Duke in "The Quiet Man"): Well, some things a man doesn't get over so easy.

You better be careful with that eye Cap'n, in case you may have something embedded in it. In case you see a doctor, they will numb your eye with drops before they remove the foreign body. You don't want it to get infected with that swamp gas . . . . been there, done that

Rog
 
Well Captain,
I've enjoyed your writing for a while now. You've inspired me to figure out how to run my scanner and get some of my old pics posted. I put a couple in "What started it all and where it's at now" in the Welcome Wagon section. I'll add more over time but this scanning technology I'm using is a *****.
My early years were a bit colorful to say the least, I think back and can't believe some of it myself.

My Duster had a lot to do with it. :burnout:
So when I read your stories I felt like I was back in time too.
Keep the faith! And altho I'm about 1700 miles away, if I can help somehow, Let me know.
That little burnout thing is appropriate cause mine was a 3spd.:)
 
Captain, you can take a task like "pulling the fuel tank" and write of it with such adventure that it almost sounds like fun.... Almost.
 
Captain, you can take a task like "pulling the fuel tank" and write of it with such adventure that it almost sounds like fun.... Almost.

It's just "steak" or "ribs" if you don't use the right seasonings.
I prefer mine with lots of A1, pepper and a little Lawry's. :munky2:
Life IS an adventure....I found this out by writing down my memories of "life as it were" and was surprised to find out it sounded like an adventure. Didn't really seem like it at the time, tho......
So, that's how I view it. Every day is a new adventure, and a new opportunity to show creativity and tenacity in the face of adversity and challenge. That's one of the reasons I get off on this stuff.
 
It's just "steak" or "ribs" if you don't use the right seasonings.
I prefer mine with lots of A1, pepper and a little Lawry's. :munky2:
Life IS an adventure....I found this out by writing down my memories of "life as it were" and was surprised to find out it sounded like an adventure. Didn't really seem like it at the time, tho......
So, that's how I view it. Every day is a new adventure, and a new opportunity to show creativity and tenacity in the face of adversity and challenge. That's one of the reasons I get off on this stuff.

Well I`m certain to say that I`m among many that enjoy reading your writings.:cheers:
 
.....end, that is. That's what I needed. To get the rear end out of this car. I'd been planning this night for going on a week. I knew this was a "daylight" task, which meant I needed the garage door open and all the crap piled up behind The Duke moved out of the way, motorcycles out, and mosquitos napping before their nightly feast. I knew the wifey would have left for work when I got home....1+1=2, ergo.....
I didn't even eat a real dinner. Chucked a TV dinner in the nuke box and swallowed it whole, then went out and started moving things.
That was the easy part.
I'd already hosed down the nuts and bolts the previous night with AeroKroil to loosen the rust. I pumped up the compressor and dragged out the impact tools. Man, I love my wife! She got me this impact tool set along with the compressor a few years back for my birthday. And boy, I needed it tonight!
I was a little intimidated by the leaf springs....how much kinetic energy is stored up in these little crossbows, I wondered? The Chilton's manual I've had since Peter Frampton was in Humble Pie was pretty matter-of-fact on the subject; "..remove the wheels. Relieve the tension on the axle and remove the shackle attach bolts..." Right. And lose your right arm when the shackle bracket bolts come loose, right?
Turns out Chiltons was right. There is little or no tension on the springs when the weight is off the rear end. I was sweatin' it as I spun out the bolts, slowly and ever so cautiously, for the left shackle. It popped loose with a "clunk", like a fat man plopping his butt down in the La-Z-Boy to watch his favorite program. Just like that! No muss, no fuss, no shattered arm bones. Just..."clunk".
Emboldened, I whipped out the impact and spun out the bolts for the right shackle. zzzrrrING! zzzrrrING! Now they both hung free. If I'd known it was this easy...
I am reminded of the the rear end under my work bench that came out of the Minx. I know I took that one out, without impact tools, by myself, without loss of life or limb. I don't have a clue how, though.
So anyway, on to the front shackle brackets. These I can't get at with the impact; I have to use the air ratchet. There is a lot of rust on the right side bolt threads; I have to thread the nuts off till they bind, then back on. Hose down with Kroil, back off until they bind. Lather, rinse, repeat. Finally they work their way off with no collateral damage. Oddly enough, the left side nuts scream their way off with the air ratchet.....brrrING!brrrING!brrrING!brrrING! I don't question why; I'm simply pleased with the results.
The shock nuts prove no match for the impact driver. Two short bursts and they're loose. Gingerly, I twist the handle on the floor jack and watch the pumpkin slowly drop as the jack sighs.
I give a tug on the handle of the jack and the whole shebang rolls out into the quickly fading daylight.
I poke my head underneath and marvel.
This is as naked as this car has ever been since the day it rolled off the line at Hamtramck. Of this much I'm sure.
And, this is as deep as I've ever been into a project car. I'm sure of that, too. And I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face.......:-D

rearend.jpg
 
LMAO working on your house for 30 years . . . but I know what yer talkin about . . . but I got this little angel guy parked on my shoulder ("I oughta beltcha . . .") shooting guilt arrows at me . . . my plan was to finish up main projects on the house this year then I can dive into it, tehn I can slap that angel guy off me shoulder . . . let me know how easy hard your tank is to remove, I have to drop mine too . . . Rog


It was a piece of cake, Rog. Unplug the transmitter, cut the rotted rubber lines, pull the fill tube out and unbolt the two hanger straps.....Presto!!!
 
=D>Cool Cap'n . . . . I'm almost done with the house . . . . have a rear deck to paint, and water system upgrade to finish, and next week Woodward Cruise. Looks like I'll be burning wood in the pole barn this winter!! Thanks for the good info :cheers: . . . Rog
 
Sallah: Indy, why does the floor move?
Indiana: Give me your torch. [Sallah does, and Indy drops it in]
Indiana: Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes? ...
Raiders of the Lost Ark


I’'d moved everything back out of the garage again. All day long I could hear The Duke barking at me in the back of my mind…” Saddle up! …We’'re burning daylight!”
One does not keep The Duke waiting.
Grasping the handle of the floor jack, I tugged it like a five-year-old tugging on his Radio Flyer and the dragged the rusty rear end out from under the car so I could squeeze under there, myself. As I found a convenient place to park it, without warning, a greenish pool began to emerge from under the jack.
My first thought was that the rear end had somehow tipped and gear oil was oozing from the rusty pumpkin perched awkwardly atop the jack.
I stuck my finger tips in it and gave it a sniff…; no such thing. This was jack oil.
I had to laugh…..this was the jack I'’d inherited from Dad…...the one and the same that served me so well with all my cars; including The Duke and the L’i'l Red Minx. Hoping this was not an omen of sorts, I grinned and shrugged it off, and sprinkled some kitty litter on the blood trail.
I grabbed the creeper, climbed aboard, and grabbed my own fluorescent “torch”. Wheeling myself under, I peered up at the former residence of the rear end…….
Rust. Why'’d it have to be rust?
There was no Sallah to answer me, only the sound of the fan droning monotonously in the background. Grimacing, I pulled down the dust mask over my face like Jesse James heading for a bank, and began scraping and wire wheeling.…….

I feel like I’'ve reached a summit of sorts. Like a hiker on a long trek who has reached the destination, a train that has reached the end of the line, or a climber who has ascended to the summit. They still have to go a long way yet and may still endure many hardships, trials and tribulations, but they'’ve achieved a goal. As have I.
I'’ve taken everything off the bottom side of this car that can come off without a cutting torch. Once the underside is completely primed and painted (and, quite possibly at this point, undercoated), everything I do after that point is, well, putting things “back together”. Or descending the summit, if you choose.
My mind translates this as, “halfway there.”
Whether it is or not in fact is not really important. It feels like halfway…….
“Bear Claw” Chris Lapp: You’'ve come far, pilgrim.
Jeremiah Johnson: Feels like far……

“Jeremiah Johnson”
Indeed it does.

I didn'’t mean for this to happen, ya know. This was supposed to be a quick resurrection; a hasty “Clear!” and a jolt with the defibrillator paddles, and this guy was supposed to jump right up and be back in the saddle in a couple of weeks. Pull the engine, clean up and spray the engine bay, and get cranking on the motor. Stuff it back in and go for a drive around the block. There were no plans made for removing every single piece of suspension and completely re-doing the underside. None whatsoever.
Had I looked deeply enough within my own heart, I could'’ve seen this coming. I should know better…….
I like a term the French use in some of their aircraft maintenance manuals; “Renew”. As in, “Renew the brake fluid”. Or “Renew the oil”. With me, it’s “renew the brake system”, or “renew the suspension components”. That'’s really what I'’m doing...……renewing the whole damn car. Obviously, I'’m not gonna rip into the rear end or tranny case unless there’'s a reason. But things like rubber suspension bits, bushings, brakes and brake lines, fuel lines, well, I'’m just gonna go ahead and renew '‘em. Damn the torpedoes! If I never finish, I guess it'’s my loss. But I just can'’t stand the thought of driving this thing without having thoroughly gone over everything. Renewed, as it were….
So, it takes me a little bit longer than it might. Finishing late I could live with. Cutting corners; …not so sure on that one! That doesn'’t mean I'’m gonna replace everything as I go along; that would be the poseur’s way out. If a part can be cleaned up and re-used, so be it. The more original, the better.
If I can reach my goal this summer; to get the entire underside cleaned, painted and possibly undercoated, I'’ll feel like I'’m descending the summit; beginning the long trek back to base camp. I'’d best get moving; it’s a long way back…….

SNAKES.jpg
 
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Captain,

One of these days I am gonna sit down and start reading this thread from start to finish. I guess that will be when I finally get my car finished and don't have much to do. When that will be I have no clue. LOL
 
Captain,

One of these days I am gonna sit down and start reading this thread from start to finish. I guess that will be when I finally get my car finished and don't have much to do. When that will be I have no clue. LOL

'Ax, the longer you wait, the longer it will take, 'cuz this thread keeps growing and growing. I went through it a couple weeks ago and it took, like, hours!
Besides, we all know you'll never really "finish" your car......it'll go on & on like most of our projects!:toothy10:
 
Hey Captain, Do you have a word version of the "Story" part of this Thread. I was thinking if it was OK With you I would like to break it into a Bunch of parts/episodes, and place it in our Local Mopar Clubs Monthly Newsletter. I'm Sure It would grant you a free Norther Mopar Membership, at least a 1 year subscription to the news letter, and a Northern Mopars T-shirt. You would also get the right to tell everyone that you are a "Published " writer.:read2:

You can reply by PM if you are too Bashfull:bootysha:
 
Me, bashful??? After I just put my life's story on the 'net? LOL!
I do have the various chapters, etc saved as Word documents (Most of 'em, anyway) and could probably reconstruct what I don't. If you're serious, PM me.
 
Well, boys and girls, here in the midwest summer has peaked, August has waxed and is in the process of waning. I'm very close to where I wanted to be, thanks to a couple of heavy blitzkreigs in Dukesville this summer. I am preparing, however, one last major assault; a Duster "Normandy", if you will. Think about the beach-head scene in "Saving Private Ryan".......yep, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout! More details to follow.....................

Saving-Private-Ryan-p06.jpg
 
Great reading capt.:cheers: brings back alot of good times. kinda doing the same thing with my scamp, and I thought I was the only one that had a talking car:toothy10:
 
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