Barn find.... today

Numbers with too many zero's just confuse me and become nothing more than numbers.

I can remember straightening a damaged rear fender on the side of the track with a lead knock off hammer back when some of these were still low teens... with 2 comma's. They all bend and get straightened the same regardless. The more 0's involved, the less pain there is to fix them. There is a thought to dwell on when looking for your next car... just move a decimal point..... easy as that, painless.

 

Somedays........ No more do I write about the break in drive of the TdF and I end up reliving it.

Two days left before the show and 3 cars yet to be finished, 2 of which have no as much as run at that point. It is all that is standing between us and sanity, where time to work on the 330 in the evening is not met with the guilt about not having cars done, some of which have been here for years. Meet the Maserati Sebring from Hell, devils fork and all... one of those 'I should have known better' projects. A stunning car that received a restoration some years back and has been featured on magazine covers in a number of publications.

Finally getting the Webers jetted exactly where we wanted them, then started the quest to fit and tune the original Lucas injection system to the car. Normally not a big problem, we were trying to make it work with an engine that was more than a little long in the tooth. "Couldnt be", it was a signature built 'Stroker McGerk' engine (no I wont share the real name) in all it glory! The engine always had a very odd and spine tingling vibration just short of a breath taking 5000 RPM redline.... it always concerned me and now the car was actually being Used... what the heck is up with That?! There are times with engine break in when things go wrong... and this must have been the poster child for such a cause. There was one piston in the engine oversized from the rest and weighing some 28 grams more than any other...... and that was just the start of what would be found in this epic journey of attempting to reverse time.

Down to the wire, car registered for the show, field placement charts done showing where the car would sit..... and still it had not started yet. FINALLY... the day came to turn the key. Prime the oil system, prime and bleed the Lucas Injection..... tried the best we could to cover every base..... and then the twin coils were hooked up. The static timing was already set, injection timing checked and double checked... everything should good just as it should... and the key was turned after years of effort on this lump.... and it fired right up, smooth as silk. Instant oil leaks were traced back to the scavenge oil pump shaft to cover clearance being too great, no longer concerned about keeping everything exactly proper, the cover and shaft were put in the lathe and machined for a lip seal. Worked like a charm, and now leery as hell and all senses on full alert..... the noise, what the Hell is that noise?! In my youth I had put a thrust washer in backwards in my Vega.... and I just couldnt shake that from my mind... this noise was Hideous and this engine will have to come back out Before it grenades itself. The end had come, the car wont make it... all that effort for nothing.... all because for a few minutes I had Superman hearing during the dreaded 'break in' time. A good nights sleep, now faced with the task of pulling apart years of work to fix something I obviously over looked..... another memory popped into my mind. The 'break in' drive of an Interim TdF, on the way to Donnybrooke Race Track, again being driven to loosen it up before the flogging started, but this time the *** in the seat was the owner, not me, and he had good hearing. Dead on the side of the road, I pulled over to hear the engine proclaimed "Dead, with a seized camshaft". A little bit of time passed as I kicked the tires to let out some anger and then I pushed the key.... all to find a noisy tach cable making a scream that would wake the dead.

It couldnt be.... no chance of being that lucky again and surely not after all these years.... Yup, that was it, a popcorn fart dry tach cable..... and a new designer color of gray hair from days of searching for "The Noise". Disconnected..... Perfectly quite and smooth an engine, beyond any hopes of mine..... right up until the new Rabbitpiss fuel started melting all of the rubber seals in the Lucas Injection unit. The rest of the day was spent pulling apart injectors and pulling shards of rubber out of the pintles of those. Really??? This is supposed to get easier after all these years...... Remember riding on the fender as the car was pushed to the grid, that is supposed to be for young guys, this isnt what I signed up for, I am starting to feel like I have change coming on this deal!

 

Somehow you were able to put to words what I couldn't..... "overwhelming" even falls a bit short. I never did get over that, sticks with me yet today, even with street engines.

Here you built something designed to run on the ragged edge of ventilating itself in a big way and the only question remaining was if it would return as a bunch of pieces swept up from the track or something resembling what you just latched the hood on moments earlier.

The results were either euphoria or dismal, and just as you stated, every mistake you ever made going back to your GoKart days flashes before your eyes. "Did I build enough clearance into the valve to liner".... as you recall your efforts of having to clean up the carnage in Dyno room after experimenting with running .650 lift using Chevy valves in an English lump..... No, .150" valve to liner isnt enough at 8000 RPM, and the results are quite spectacular! Is .250" enough?.... that one miserable lap will answer the question! Push the limits and you are too often able to see what is over that edge. Efforts like this were required to challenge those damn Cheating Panzer Weedwackers Bruce built.

 

The subject of the last month of cramfest was finally upon us, the 10th anniversary of the Morgan Adams Foundation Car, Plane and Motorcycle Concours d'Elegance.... either it had the wheels on it and was rolling under its own power, or it was staying home under covers.

The forked Devil Maser..... it boiled down to having it towed to the event and driven in from the parking lot or it would stay behind. Now running like a jewel, I could still feel very slight flat spots and studders in driveability, it had no tach because of the disconnected cable and I was not the least bit interested in attempting a cross town drive with a 20 minute old engine where the Fuel Injection was ingesting itself. The wonderful fuel we are now faced with was having its way with the rubber seals in the Lucas Injection and risking washed out rings in a new engine, after all this time fighting these battles.... No! Despite a month of efforts including weekends and evenings to put this lump back together, the owner decided he didn't want to tow it down.... it wasn't meant to be.

Dad's flight in on Thursday was uneventful, and with Friday having a leisurely day of free time for him.... of course I put him to work, nothing less would be expected! Pouring over wiring diagrams to do failure analysis on a TR.... what else could one want to do on a vacation visit where all hands are on deck for a show?! My old friend "BS Bill" ( read that as Burn and Swirl) had come down to put a shine on the BBi and the 4 cam 275 heading to the show. Completely breaking with tradition, I couldn't believe what Bill accomplished on the 275 and had no choice but to compliment him, he really pulled off what I considered impossible. For some 15 years I have had to listen to that atom smasher buffer, missing teeth on the angle drive, he has that requires he puts in Ipod ear buds with shooting muffs over them.... to heck with the guy next to him.... adversarial? Ya Think?! Yes, it hurt to give the compliments but also required I followed through with a tradition of doning the 4 eyes to inspect his finished work. BS Bill had done it, the BBi and 275 looked fantastic and were ready to roll and now it was time to put to Jenni to the test.

I decided being short handed, we would flatbed the 275 and forego risks of catching a stone in a windshield, while Jenni would lead the way driving the BBi and then move the cars around for placement at the show. I will let Jenni speak about that experience, I knew what was in store there and it was time she experienced both the thrill and the terror. Dad and I were headed up into the mountains to meet up with J and to pick up Joe at his house. A week earlier J had emailed me a route schedule of the Pro Bicycle Race road closures in the area, that enveloped just about every way to get to Joe's house but with J's foresight in the matter, it proved trouble free. Now ahead of schedule, Dad and I had time to meet and chat with J's folks, there to lend a hand with Baby Sitting duties so J and his wife were able to have an evening out with all of us at the show. Having now met J's folks, it should come as no surprise why J is the person he is..... a finer couple could not be found, it was both an honor and a privilege and a delightful beginning of a great evening. Headed back down the steep hill and then up Joe's Billy Goat cliff side driveway, best suited for a Jeep and not the Dudley Truck I had this time, Joe was already waiting outside.

With a turning radius of 100 yards, an impressive by any measure cliff on one side, the D4 on the other side, Joe jumped in the truck and I started the 37 point turn around taking great care not to scratch the paint on the D4. To heck with the truck... its just a truck... but that D4... that has been screaming my name since I first laid eyes on it... to rub off any of the original rust on the dozer blade with a Ford truck would be inexcusable. What evening and weekend time that didn't go into the Forked Devil Maserati preparing for this show, went into completing pages 349-360 of the HoneyDO! novel over the last few months. Oh yes, I too can play the game, there is a reason I had Jenni drive the BBi to the show. I figure by the time she makes it 30 some miles through downtown traffic with that car she will have drop dead fallen in love with it. At that point she will be able to envision herself taking it to the mountains for a weekend and will be my biggest supporter in a sales pitch to the Boss on why we need to print up some money and own that car ourselves! It's a long shot but if I tell Kris it would be HER car.... (it worked on the 77 GTB I bought her 8 years ago that I have yet to build an engine for... oppps! Shoemakers kid syndrome in action).... now we will see just how good Jenni Really is! Pages 359 and 360 of the HoneyDO! novel were completed frantically in an effort to pitch the D4.... that.... that will be a tough one and a good deal of planning will be required! J, having his own stable toys at his house.... something tells me I need to keep Kris and Ann Marie as far apart as possible for the short term as she has had to navigate the road trenches Joe sculptured over the years when dropping the blade on the D4 to stop it with no brakes.... I am frightened they would have far too much in common and discussions of this nature would be highly counter productive to the collections of Treasures! A slow learner yes, but learned none the less....

Now out of the mountains with both Dad and Joe on board, I get the cell phone call from Jenni that I had been waiting for. Kris was on her game and thought to give me her phone so the girls could keep in touch with me in the event of any problems with either of the cars they were tasked with. Great planning on Kris' part BUT, she forgot to teach me how to use this fool thing...... and Jenni sends a text to make matters worse! Three guys in a truck.... think anyone of us knows how to work these fool things? Mashing buttons without so much as even looking at it... which wouldn't have helped anyway, I was able to make a call to Jen, "No problems, both cars made it just fine and are placed on the field already.... You CANT BELIEVE this experience...." !!!! Having to navigate a beautiful 275 GTB under the wings of a Hawker Sea Fury, around a P-51D and up next to a good friends Comp SWB would humble a seasoned veteran of the show circuit. For "The Project Manager", or what ever blasted title she goes by these days, it was just the start.........

 

With this sidetrack now behind, now we can make progress on the 330 without feeling guilt of not finishing other cars.

The rubber pieces found after the decision to sideline the Maserati trip was made, both in the injectors and the backflow check valves. As disappointed as I was that it did not make it, finding these bits late in the day assured the right choice was made not to risk a new engine.

Jen placing the 275

The whole 330 Barn Find group all together at last.
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Oh my, is that a Bus I see coming at me?!

A little background explanation is in order at this point. I started racing in about 71 or there about's (what this did to my Mother is yet another topic for later, she wished on me 5 sons and a 200 foot driveway filled with race cars) and a number of years after starting a family, soon learned that as the kids grew, the fun of being at the race track soon was loosing its luster..... I had to retire and grow up myself. For those having done it, it is an impossible task to simply walk away so one day when the girls were with I stopped by the 1/4 midget track.... and the rest was history, now I would satisfy my lust for racing through the eyes of the younger generation. I purchased a beat up well used 1/4 midget for a few hundred dollars and set about restoring and race prepping it. No question, a sport ruled by Boys, the local track was not ready for a Hot Pink and Teal race car driven by two sisters. The girls had complete say in how the car 'looked', Mom had complete say in the safety gear dept (Trust me Hon, its completely safe) and what was a retired wannabe race car driver going to do with crates of spares no longer needed for a full size car?

Two completely different driving styles evolved to match personalities, Niki would throw the car into a corner, pitch it sideways and slide the entire corner while Jenni would fingertip steer it through never loosing traction. We would go to the track on a Saturday just to run laps for practice and fun and I would try to push each girl to take from the other and define a style half way in between that each had developed on their own. Try as I may, 8 and 9 year olds have not yet developed the ability to give well defined driver feedback on setups, and not absorb detailed feedback on a turn in technique, something of a change for me. Shortly afterwards I realized that the two completely different driving styles were resulting in exactly the same lap times, both running well under the track records. At that point I put extra roll cage bracing on the car, a new 6 point race harness and the coaching evolved to "Go have a blast". Two girls running different classes in the same car required practicing drivers changes akin to those in endurance races at Daytona. Rules were soon changed to make the fastest qualifier start in the back of the pack but it rarely mattered on who would be out front when the checkered flag dropped in either class.... it was most always the lunatics in a male ego deflating Pink and Teal car.

Fast forward, now time for driving full size cars, I bought a $100 Triumph Spitfire, put it in the driveway with the keys in it and said "Go teach yourself how to drive a manual transmission on the dirt roads". We lived in the country, out on the prairie, the Spitfire had a roll bar and they could drive 20 miles in any direction without seeing another car. A number of series of ruts in the gravel driveway and finally they were off... just about the time Kris started on ME. It wasn't enough I had thrown the girls into open wheel competition where just touching tires would catapult cars straight up 8 feet in the air..... now this?!

How the Spitfire survived that day, a car that normally couldn't make it around the block without walking back, I will never know, but it did. Only minor clutch techniques had to be taught and adjusted, obviously while teaching heal and toe and double clutching but the hard part was done, they learned on their own. Time to practice for the drivers tests, both girls waitressed at the same country restaurant and it was my job to get up early in the morning to drive with them to work on the weekends. Winter time in a POS Saturn twin cam, 6" of fresh snow, dirt roads and a few years since coaching them on the track... I would quietly reach over and pop the ebrake in the middle of a turn just to see what happened. Sure enough, with both girls, as soon as the car would snap to 90 degrees sideways, the throttle would go to the floor and instant reverse lock steering was applied. What they had learned on the race track was instinctively applied without a thought.....and I could sleep well at night when they would go to the mountains skiing by themselves. OK... so there was a little drama when summer came and Kris was the one to ride with them to work. Now practiced, diving deep into a corner at the speed of heat on a dirt road, reaching down with a quick pop of the ebrake pitching the car completely sideways with proper technique applied to the throttle and steering, sling shotting the car out of the corner still in the proper lane...... resulted in a rather loud "Where the Hell (!) did you learn to do THAT?!!" from Mom. I had coached them both to say they saw it on TV if/when asked.... didn't work. It was that weekend that the HoneyDO! novel was created... and I was grounded!

The result was I had two kids that knew only to screw around in an appropriate situation and only in a safe manner, knew speed had to be respected... and knew how to drive out of just about any dangerous situation intact.... and it worked. Having developed looking Through corners and driving with "horizon eyes" looking for the next passing opportunity on the track, I trust no one with a Ferrari more than these two. Alas, the HoneyDO! novel continues to this day and I have never been forgiven. Yesterday AM, during a debriefing session over coffee at the shop while plans were made for next years events, I slipped and mentioned the FCA Nationals were at Road America in 2013... and talk instantly went to building the spare engine for the IMSA race car... not by me, by Jenni. You all know that look, the one that drills holes through you from across the room, the one that conveys just about every Non politically correct word ever developed without so much as a slight movement of the lips..... Yup, got it again when Jen blurted out she wanted to start racing again.... "You know the F40 that had you screaming in each gear, that was about 550HP... the BBC CanAm is about 850 HP... more if you want it...." Pages 361 through 385 went in the novel within the hour!

 

My kid buying her own 275 that I can borrow.... you must be kidding me! That would mean I have now lived long enough to be a PITA to my kids and the oppertunity to avenge myself has come! I have lived a lifetime for that moment....

Feedback from those at the show that knew I was planning on throwing Jen under the bus doing what I did, told me she met the Challenge and passed with flying colors... the bar has been raised. Now onto the 330... we will see.

 

Its just Corruption of Youth, ex Racers style.

Kris had dreamnt of having girls to dress up in pretty pink dresses.... Yah right, how did that work out for ya?! These two were working on cars when still in grade school. It had to be explained because otherwise one would think this is just a passing trend..... nope. Now too you can understand why 'the novel' is so long... payback and gravity, both catigorized under the same heading.

Hey, its wearing the right nose art.... even back then! Make no mistake, these were REAL race cars with double adjustable shocks, various compound slicks, running alcohol and blindingly fast... I wanted one for myself!

I just noticed the pic date... near 20 years ago to the day of the show... Coaching, I would have the girls picture an open track and envision it before letting them out. Niki would punt anything in front of her, Jen would simply drive around it.
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I had always wished I could have afforded two cars so I could see what would happen when I put them both out at the same time, Chuck. The "boys" only gave them guff the first time they went out, never afterward.

I remember one boy blocking Niki for the lead and after a few laps she touched tires with him, shot her car 6 feet in the air, landing on top of his roll cage, bounced and drove down the front of his car and took off from there. They red flagged the race to check on the kids, who were both fine, and then awarded the pass, albeit unconventional, to Nik. Jen would fake a dart down low to make a pass and when the lead car would drop down to block, she would already be passing them on the outside. Two completely different styles, both effective. I kept plenty of extra 4130 moly tubing in stock as it was needed often.

Kris was less than enthused when I would discuss the techniques of bump drafting with the girls... I think I had as much fun as they did.

 

Lipstick Pink by memory. I begged them not to force me into doing that color.... pushed hard for the Gulf colors but....I lost.