Trial and errors

Dan and Kaleb signing the trunk

Tony looking lost as usual

Tony, James and me

Me before high school graduation

 

Well, the engine swap went better than expected. After about a month of tampering the car was out on the road and I was showing it off. I was gearing up to write a blog about how well it was going until a small metallic sound popped up. At first I didn't think much of it until it got worse. It was loud, internal, and low. My worst fears had come true. I took the car to Gerry and I took it to John and the verdict was the motor had to come out. I was crushed but since the noise was so bad I wasn't surprised. So today my father, Gerry, Dennis, and tony took the motor out. Well, Tony just sang the Rolling Stones and mumbled but that was no matter. I can't tell you how much it sucked to take the motor out again. We started at Seven thirty and we were done by three. The engine is going to get rebuilt again and hopefully be back in the in a couple of weeks. Which is good because it was leaking out of the heads and the intake. I will take responsibility for the leaks but not the knocking. Truthfully, that was no one's fault. Since the motor relies on splash lubrication it is probable that a wristpin didn't get lubricated and wrecked itself. Mind you, this is just bad luck but it still really bums me out.  It is truly hard to describe the emotions that come with this. When the car was working well it was a beast. I never drove it hard but it had instant power. It was a wolf in sheepskin and it was truly what I wanted.  I was told by people who have a lot more miles under their belt than me to not kill myself. I just graduated high school and I was hoping for an easy summer where I could enjoy my car. However, obviously, that wasn't in the cards. I take a lot of pride in that car and seeing it apart again hurt. Bad. Looking back, I just don't know if this whole thing was worth it. I guess, you can't learn unless you do it yourself. However, I have such a support network around me I really can't fail. I am still just stumbling around trying to find my ass with both hands. Some of the problems on this car are so complicated I don't even know where to start. I appreciate all of the help that I get with the thing but I feel bad. I fear that the car is becoming a thorn in other peoples sides. You see, I can deal with it when it's together and working. I can do screwdriver projects but when it comes to super complicated stuff I get lost. I like to think I know what I'm doing but  I don't. Sometimes I just try to write the ad for the thing in my head but I can't bring myself to sell it. For one thing, it is worthless to other people and I still like it. I just wish that it worked. I like working on it but now I just wish I could drive it. Sometimes, I just wish it was gone but I can't imagine a life without it. That stupid Monte Carlo is me now. I have too much blood in it now. It is worthless to anybody but me. I fought for that car. I had plenty of help but in the end my cut up hands are writing this piece. In the end my hands got the money for most of the car. In the end my hands will turn that wheel and drive that hunk of metal off into the sun and nobody can say that I didn't fight for it. These hands worked hard for it. Yes, it wasn't a wise purchase but it is fun. I already lost the 76 and I'm not losing this one. So, I'll put that motor in and chase the future down and I'll fight for my stupid dreams. I have no doubt both will stumble and fall but maybe it all might work out okay. Maybe, just maybe, the second time's a charm and maybe some of my dreams might come true. All I know is that tomorrow is another day and the world will spin around just the same. Hopefully, the Monte Carlo isn't too far from being back on the road and chasing my dreams. I hope that actually happens, for both our sakes. 

Change of plan

When I was about 15, I wrote a book for my gifted class. It was about 80 pages of collected stories and my adventures, (along with my father’s), on Route 66. We took my Camaro and drove to Shamrock Texas on 66. It was a fun trip but it wasn’t really the proper car. However, I digress. I ended the book with a short story about me, in my forties, having to keep a General Lee orange because my daughter liked it. It was a story about how I would like my future to be. I still read that now and then and wonder about my future. I guess something like that is normal at the age of 18. At least, I hope it is. I ended the story, and the book, by saying how it’s funny how life goes full circle sometimes. The thing is, that book feels a bit outdated. The green van that is mentioned in that story is already sold. We didn’t need the money, but my 1973 Monte Carlo did. No, that isn’t a typo. I have to get rid of the 1976 Monte Carlo body. My father and I spent an incredibly tiring day taking the ’76 to body shops. Every estimate was too high and would have sent the car well into the red. The decision was made that I needed another car so after scouring eBay I found a 1973 Monte Carlo. It is copper colored with a two-barrel 350. It was made in Texas and lived in Texas its whole life. I am technically the third owner but the second only put a crappy repaint on it and sold it after a month. The first owner, Bertha Jones, owned the car for forty years. Guessing from the odometer, she only drove it to church. My father braved the wilds of the interstates and drove down to Texas and picked it up for me. I better get him a cup that says world’s best dad or something like that. Anyways, I got the car up in the air and it is rock solid. Well, there is a small hole in the floor but the guy that wants my ’76 is a body man. I am hoping for some sort of trade for labor or something like that. Besides the body man wants to restore the ’76, which is a nice thought. At least it won’t be melted down for toasters or something like that. Next weekend, an engine swap will be done on the car and the ’76 motor will go into the ’73 so I will be sure to post something about that. I will admit that I feel a bit dumb, I should have figured out how much the ’76 would have cost to fix. I can’t say that it was a total loss though. It’s a lot like buying the project car first. However, I am going to miss it. I have spent a lot of time with it and it has become a friend. It will be hard to see it go, troubles and all. The thing that keeps me going though, is looking at the ’73. I can see my future in that car. I hope to find someone to fill the passenger seat and maybe even one-day, throw a car seat in the back. I was driving the ’73 around the other day and I couldn’t help but think how much better it will be faster. With my life moving at a million miles an hour these days, it will be nice to be able to drive something that will help me slow it down. My father owns a 1978 Chrysler New Yorker. I remember riding in it as a kid and being happy as can be. I remember the warm leather and the sweet smell of old exhaust. At that time I didn’t care that it wasn’t fast. All I wanted was a cool old car to ride around in. Maybe the ’73 can give that to my kid one day. Maybe, it can bring a smile to his or her face. Truthfully, nothing could make me happier. Sometimes it just isn’t about the car. No, sometimes it is so much more. Sometimes, it is about the warm smiles on hot July nights. It is about filling the passenger seat with someone you care about. It is about watching streetlights dance on the dashboard and laughter filling the air with a symphony of memories yet to come. In the end, the symphony is never about the car. However, I will admit, that a 350 adds an awful nice baritone.

IT RUNS!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

Here's what has transpired over the last couple of days. Last Wednesday my two friends, Tony and Dakota, helped me get my rebuilt 350 back into my Monte Carlo. Mind you we took the entire day off but we got it done. We were incredibly proud of ourselves and the car. That Friday my Autos teacher called my Mother and told her that the car had to be running by Thursday because some upper brass in Palatine High School were coming to see it start. That weekend I was incredibly sick but nonetheless my father and I chased parts around for the looming deadline. I truthfully didn't think it was even going to happen. So much had to hooked up. The motor and trans were sitting in the car with nothing in place other than the headers. On Monday I had work so I couldn't work late. Than Tuesday came, and it became hectic. I stayed at school until six and all my Father and I accomplished was fitting the gas tank in the car. Not much to show for three hours of work. I took the entirety of the next day off. I got to school at eight and worked until midnight. During school almost every one of my autos friends came to help out. However I worked into the night with my friend Tony, Mr. Ruta, my Father, and some dude named Tim. I had never met Tim before but he stayed all night and even drove me to the parts store. It turned out he was the son of the manager at NAPA. He had come to show Ruta, by teacher, his truck but he just decided to stick around and help. Finally, when the motor was all hooked up we put coolant in it. The final test. Naturally, it started to leak out of the water pump. I wasn't surprised that it leaked. Since three million steps had been done it two days, something had to go wrong. The next day, I got to school at seven and, with Tony and Ruta, we got the water pump gaskets replaced and slapped it all back together. We poured  coolant in and moved the car into place. Just as the brass showed up the car was finally ready to go. All of my friends and the entirety of an autos one class were there to help out and watch the car. We primed the carb bowls and tony turned the key while I worked the carb. The starter kicked in and nothing happened. Tony cranked the key and I heard a single cylinder fire. With another turn the carb decided to shoot a ball of fire up that went about three feet into the air. My heart was racing, the key turned, and the motor roared to life. It backfired and spat fire for about a minute until it settled down into a idle around 2,000 RPM. Now I had to run the car for twenty minutes to coat the cam in oil. Rob held the stopwatch and counted down as I worked the throttle. The only bad thing that happened over that twenty minutes was a sparkplug wire caught on fire but it still kept running. Finally the twenty minutes were up and tony turned the car off. Everyone clapped and cheered and came over to congratulate me. I couldn't hold back the tears after my father and mother hugged me and told me they were proud of me. This was a group effort but it was my car. I had turned a seventies smog motor into a 350 horsepower beast. Over the past week I forgot about school and everything else. My life had fallen into a rhythm of working and sleeping. I am tired but so glad that the car ran. I just hope that everybody who worked on it has felt a bit better for it. Even though it still needs mountains of work, I now see light at the end of the tunnel. This car is something that I hope to have for the rest of my life. I took a lawn ornament and brought it back to a car. However, that Monte Carlo is so much more. It is a dream of mine sitting on four wheels. It is a symbol for second chance. I hope in a couple months to have it sitting in my driveway and I plan to have everybody who helped me sign the trunk. Finally, I would like to thank the teachers who gave me extensions on my assignments this week. I know that some of you know how much this means to me. As I closed the hood and walked back out into the hallway during a passing period I looked at all of the people around me. They were just going about their day. I looked down at my greasy hands and saw the cuts. I reached into my pocket and felt the Monte keys tucked comfortably next to my driver's license. I took then out and spun them around my finger and I walked to English. I knew right then that my life would never be the same again.

 

Finally Coming Together

 

Yes, I haven't written in a while. The thing is though, I wanted to show progress and that orange motor certainly shows that. The motor was bored and honed. The crank was machined. It has a new oil pan, pistons, oil pump, heads, lifters, cam, pushrods, rockers, manifold, carb, valve covers, and air filter. With Gerry Reese's help I got the valve lash adjusted. John at Land Air did a great job on the motor and it looks great. I took out the fuel tank and got it coated and the condenser cleaned at Lake Zurich Radiator by Jim. He also sold me a brass three row radiator which is quite the upgrade from the original. As good as the motor looks I have found new problems with the body. A friend of mine named James and I are going to try and do the welding and we watched a video put out by Hot Rod magazine. We realized that we don't have the right tools to do the floor boards but we can probably weld the trunk. There is a brace in the trunk that could be rusted but we won't know until we cut into it. I have been getting pretty down about the rust. Yes, I knew that it was there but it equates to me spending a hell of a lot of money now. I thought about buying other shells and just dumping the Monte. I could put the motor into a 1970 Malibu and give it a four speed and Chevelle livery. I could also put it into a 1969 Camaro body. However, my friend brought up a pretty good point. I have put way too much time into that car to give up now. It seems like everybody has Chevelle's and Camaro's but the Monte Carlo is different. It is something special. This project has turned into my life. I didn't have enough money to buy a muscle car, so I built my own. I really think that is true and kind of a pleasant thought. For the first time I can see the fruits of my labor in that motor. As much as I want to give up on that car sometimes I always come back and work on it the next day. I can definitely understand why people give up on projects. However, giving up is the easy way out. If I can build a 350 horsepower machine working at a minimum wage job anybody can. The weird thing is that I am getting a sort of fever now. I really want to get the car done. However, I suppose that is typical. I was working on the car with my friend Tony and I said, "You Know something, I am never going to buy something this rusty again." He looked at me and said," Bullshit. Knowing you you'll find some stupid deal on a rusty car and buy it." I just hope that next time I can get a Mopar. As a Chrysler guy I have to stop buying Chevy's. 

Nothing but parts

I have been meaning to write about these two. The one on the left in the red is Dan, that's his Vette. The one of the right is Tony. Tony is my best friend and he drives a 1979 Camaro. Both of them help me out all of the time and the car would not be nearly close to where it is today with out them. Thanks guys.

             So, once again a lot has changed since I last wrote in. I have taken the motor completely apart. I took off the intake and the heads. The pistons are out along with the crank, and cam. All of the bearings are out along with the lifters. I also knocked out all of the freeze plugs which was quite an ordeal. It is nice to see the whole thing apart but it is quite daunting at the same time. I am now sending the block off to Land Air in Arlington Heights. The owner is an ex airplane mechanic and he does amazing work. He has engine blocks everywhere along with random mechanical parts. You always get the sense that he knows where everything goes though which is nice. He is going to hone and bore the block so it should be about a 355. He is also going to clean and paint it along with a lot of other mechanical wizardry. Finally, he is going to put the pistons and the crank back in. Now I know, a bit of a copout thing to do. However, my reasoning is pretty sound. If I messed that up and went to go start the car and it didn’t work than I would have to pull the entire motor again. That is something that I don’t want to do again. Every day, the project just gets more daunting. The truth is that even though the project is fun it has lost all of its glitzy early charm. Now, all that I see is hours upon hours of work. Is it still fun? Yes, of course. However, it is now becoming very real. The main problem is that it is hard to view the project as a car. In my mind it is a mass of random parts that somehow fit back together. The nice thing is though, once the motor gets back into the car it should start to take shape in my mind again. I can't wait to see it start up again and hear how it sounds through nothing but headers. This is probably the most apart the car will be, which is actually a nice thought. I went to a muscle car show today at the Rosemont. It had close to three hundred cars of all brands and makes. They were featuring NASCAR street cars so there was about 40 Superbirds in one place. It was nice to see all of those winged birds sitting under the florescent lights and know that they had made it. As I looked around I realized that all of these cars had made it through the trials of time. If they made it so can the Monte Carlo. Maybe the Monte Carlo isn't a true muscle car but it will scream like one. It will shake the ground like one. It will challenge the lights and burn up the asphalt like one. Are their dark months of bitter cold ahead for it? Yes. However, when jack frost has been beaten to a pulp and the days get longer I hope to have the Monte Carlo back in the sun. The Monte Carlo was not a factory muscle car. However, my Monte Carlo will be an ode to what could have been. A final swansong to an era gone by. It will be a shot of candy red in a sea of gray pedestrian. A rebellion in a world of conformity. The car may be a bastard, but it will rumble like a thoroughbred. I never really liked winter. The thing is though, it just makes summer that much sweeter. Now all that I have to do is click the socket wrench back to on and pray.

Another New Home

A Typical night

 

 

With a little degreaser and a lot of elbow grease I realized that there is a firing order on the back of the intake

 

I know that it's been awhile and trust me, a lot has happened since I last wrote in. I got the motor out after about three weeks of disconnecting and taking apart various engine parts. The weird thing is that it actually wasn't that hard. I got the hood off and just went from there. I really didn't run into a lot of problems which was actually pretty surprising. All that I did to document the process was write a list and take pictures. The trans, drive line, and motor are now out of the car. The motor is out of the car on a stand and the trans is going to be rebuilt. I planned to replace the rear-end and the trans with upgraded parts but I decided not to. I am not really trying to smoke the tires. I was originally going to go build a screamer of a car but I don't really have the money or the interest. The truth is that I have to be more money conscious. I actually got the car back to my house and now it's sitting up on jacks in the garage. One of the many things that I have learned working on this car is that you need help. I rely on my mentors and my friends constantly. This car is really becoming a communal thing which is nice. People my age seem to like to work on it. I hope that people experience some of the joy that the car brings me. It is rather odd to see that car sitting in my garage looking like a shell. This is its first fall and winter inside and it is nice to know that it won't get any more rusty (at least in theory). However, admittedly, I don't know if it will sit outside at the body shop before they start fixing it. I also started to clean the engine and there is a surprising amount of orange paint left on the motor. I would have loved to see the car new but I digress. I have spent hours with the car so I think I can safely say that I know every inch of it now. I work at a car wash and the best job there is wiping cars. You get tips and get to stand outside and watch the world go by. Friday nights are the best for wiping because you can usually see old cars go by on their way to various shows. I remember a night when I was wiping a few weeks back. It was the first properly cold night of the year and it was nice to exchange the summer heat for the liquid cool winds of fall. I was leaning on one of the coolers where we keep towels in staring at the road. The cars rumbled by and the world ticked on. A car came by and I started to wipe it. I, all of a sudden, felt jealous of the driver. I wanted to go. I wanted to drive. I wanted to be in his car just driving away. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair and the beautiful feeling of the world devolving into the simple task of driving. As the winter approaches I feel the road calling me again. It whispers to me all of the time. Tantalizing me with its wicked uncertainty. It has been quit sometime since I have been on a proper road trip. Sometimes I sit by the Monte Carlo in my garage and dream of hitting the road again in it. That car has become a symbol of better times to come. No matter how tired I feel or how much I want to quit my job I can't. That slight whisper in my ear is enough for me to press on. Not many people my age know what it's like to hit the open road and see America the way that it is supposed to be seen. I flew to California a few weeks ago but I would have rather driven. I love watching the world roll by and seeing just how diverse this country really is. As I was flying over the U.S.  I couldn't help but look out and wonder just how many dismantled dreams are sitting up on jacks in peoples garages. I also wondered how many rusty dreams are still left to be discovered. When the Monte Carlo is done I think that a road trip is in order. A proper American trek. I think that I have deserved it and so too has the car. It has been a forgotten dream for too long.

New Home

 

                Well, the car has changed homes. I am now working on it at school every day and it's pretty awesome. I get up and have two periods where I work on the car. My teacher Mr. Ruta has given me a space inside to park the car which is a major help. Since I have a lot of time to work on it I have the time to conquer little problems. I fixed the door with my friend Chris and I also drained the diff and figured out the gear ratio with my friend Tony. My teacher and my parents along with Tony met early in the morning to discuss with me what we were going to do with the car. My teacher is into Chevy's and suggested Vortec heads for better compression along with a 3:73:1 rear-end for better off the line. He also suggested a 200-4R Trans which has a four-speed with an overdrive. If I do that I can have off the line performance and a nice highway cruiser. However, everything has a price and since I have to pay for everything mechanical on the car I have to be careful. I still plan to put a carb, intake, air filter, and cam into the car. I did however, fall into quite a windfall. A friend of my mom's at work donated some Hooker Headers to the car. They are really nice. To put it in simple terms they are the Cadillac of headers. The gentleman that donated them has his own Monte Carlo but since he did some suspension work to his he can't use them. So once again, thanks. I now have to do some research and figure out what I have to do with my allotted budget. It's actually quite fun to work on my car in school. I feel like an alien stumbling into math smelling like motor oil. I had to tell my teacher that she couldn't have my pass because I needed the gear ratios on the back. My life at this point is school and work and that's about it. This 500 dollar machine is becoming my solace from a life that moves at a million miles an hour. For two hours a day all that I have to do is work on the car and it's the best part of my day. I can't believe that when I first saw this car I didn't want it. Now I couldn't imagine a life without it. In a weird way its saving me as I am saving it.