Barn find.... today

You Sir, have mastered the language, I am envious and honored, thank you.

You on the other hand.... you could be introduced as 1/2 the reason for my gray hair. Got ya with the Dog Pic, you could stay away no longer... I knew it would work! Kinda fun when I dont have to worry about screwing up someone else's thread... I take great pride in screwing up my own!

Jenni is about to embark on telling a story about restoring an old car, on a budget, with unknowns around every turn.... while staying calm and collected throughout the process... TO DATE (my safety net, it could still meet another fate) she is the reason this car remains in once piece with the original VIN plate and skin attached. Jenni saw Something, some reason for her to say "Heck no, this is getting restored, not cut up".

The topic of discussion had already tried to give us both a dirt nap while loading it in the trailer, one of those moments where one wishes they had a camera in hand! Jenni is standing in the front of my single car trailer attached to my Dually Ford, pointed downhill on a 25 degree gravel road on top of a mountain, guiding me in centered while I am coasting an old lump down a steep hill, drivers seat not bolted down, one hand on the ebrake and one on the wheel, clutch in with reverse selected (on this hill any way to stop it is fair game), hard on the brakes, at one point all 4 wheels were skidding because the loose gravel couldn't hold the car on the hill. All of the knee shaking TERROR inches away from being behind us.... We had made it down the 35 degree slope, onto a 25 degree slope with an intact car and everyone walking upright without medical assistance. We needed only to inch the car in the trailer and the cheers would erupt..... inches away from success...... and then the whole damn shebang, Dually truck, enclosed trailer, 330, Jenni and myself started sliding down the hill..... and do you think I had a camera handy to capture the look on her face?!!!! It would have been an EPIC award winning photo, I could have sold it for mega $ as the sole visual description for "WTF!" on Wikipedia... I could have been somebody special like Navin R Johnson when the phone book came out! ALAS, no camera... hell... I couldn't have pressed the button if it was handy as I had a death grip on the steering wheel, near bending the ebrake handle, clutch out in reverse and a full vacuum lock on the drivers seat! The whole downhill procession stopped because J had the wherewithal to start throwing logs and deadfall trees, laying on the roadside, in front of the truck tires as it slid towards a 20 foot roadside cliff.... stopping it no more than 3 feet short of doom.

OK... with that moment in time laid out as best I could without Benards assistance... This car, the one that has given us Hantavirus and Lock Jaw from Tetanus from digging in the garage and trailers for the parts... The one that tried everything in the book to send us over a cliff... The one with so much filth on it we felt guilty about washing it on the driveway outside the shop... The one where I could have made a nice little profit, overnight with one email and it would have gone away in pieces having left your mothers office clean and free of mouse body parts....

This car is important to you and calling your name to restore it........ HOW?

 

The only visual that comes anywhere close just happened yesterday on an F40 test drive. Jenni is always along with on F40 rides in the event I am offered a free ride to the local jail... it would be nice if the car made it back to the shop.

She was by this time very used to short bursts on boost in 2nd gear and then a shut down. These bursts usually resulted in reverse lock of the steering wheel when the rear tires break loose but I only do this when there are no immobile objects near and no other cars present. Yesterday was the day when things changed and I needed to get my eyes on the boost gauge to see if we were in the upper range but short of the red over bosst light flashing.... a task that cant even be considered in second gear!

Her first experience of being shot out of a cannon resulted in my diving for the ignition key and shutting down when a horrible high pitch scream resulted. Coasting to the side of the road I finally figured out the "Noise" was from her, not the engine! A few more drives and I got used to this foreign noise but things were about to change.

This time full boost was achived in 3rd gear and the audible noises were replaced with some goofy gyrations with her arms... another camera Must moment missed

 

Oh HELL no... it might capture one of us and NO good can come from that! If it walks and talks.... ! I learned that on vacation to the islands last winter, Kris gave me an education on the subject.... Really, I didnt notice the pair of..... oh, its a long story for another time!

Trying REAL hard... its been a bit of a struggle of late but we keep trying.

 

I'm working on her defense right now...... I know..... Depends on what your definition of "IS" is.... that ought to do it, worked for Willy!

I have to re review the timeline, something I have not dealt with since the car first got here. Kerry of the 330GT registry was very gracious to send me a scan of the first owners ad when advertising it in the NYT. I have been so focused on getting it back together I have dropped that search all together since the first days it was here. I was quite a nuisance to Kerry early on in prodding for data and I wanted to be able to return favors in documenting many small details that would help him prior to wasting his time further.

I am now looking at hiring help here as so many of the long term projects are finally heading home completed. If I accomplish that it will free me to face this on a multi fronted basis and I can learn more about the history. I know now, because of Kerry's hard fought efforts, the first owner had the car up for sale in late 67. I know Joe had and kept the 330 and his Kirby vacuum cleaner (i'm not kidding, it was named) in a 1973 divorce. In the 5 year span between the first owner and Joe divorce there might have been another owner based on a snipit of data Joe let out in an under the tree sit down conversation.

At this point I don't know how deep someone was in the engine, if it was done at the factory before delivery (everyone knows if it was done where they sip unlimited wine for lunch it retains Virgin Status for an indefinite period) due to pre delivery problems or if it was an upgrade requested by one of the owners yet to be named. If it was done in the states I am sure to find documentation it lost a head on the back straight at Road America in the 68 June Sprints.... REMEMBER Occam's razor and "The first liar at the bar doesn't stand a chance" DO NOT apply to Vintage Ferrari lies, the most creative line of Bullsnot WINS!

 

Time to prod Jenni hard to get involved in this. Her first and only post was a stab at the old man... SOP in the course of my day, nothing new here!

 

That Dog... that is my week in visual! There are times when one knows better than to attempt anything requiring any degree of thought or finesse.... this would be it and all best laid plans on the 330 were wisely set aside. Complete assemble cars with all the finishing steps and then have parts that were on order for ever... show up. All back apart to install the long awaited parts after a full triage repair of the old broken part... and then everything surrounding the part being replaced decides its time to break... when transports are already in route. July.... the month where everyone is in the last minute scramble mode to finish cars for the major events. I set in place a policy a number of years back that if an event car was not completed by the end of February, it was not going in August. One day I will learn to follow my own policy but until then we pull hair out doing McGyver fixes at the speed of heat with fingers crossed the bubble gum stays sticky for a few weeks time. And when did I set a mental deadline for this car and the drive... end of August. The Natural Selection's attempt to weed out the stupid amongst us, it missed me again... Geez what a Dip I am.

This weekend was set aside to wind down a few notches, leave a few hours early on Friday, unload both barrels that were loaded for Bear, load the horses in the trailer and head to the mountains with a fly rod, finally not needing to worry about the fires that have terrorized us all spring. A peaceful quite weekend, out of cell range with no worries, riding alongside a stream with a fly rod replacing the rifle in the saddle scabbard, looking for that perfect deep hole to harass the Trout all afternoon. I had spent years training the horses to come to a whistle so we can just unsaddle in a meadow in a Wilderness Area and turn them loose to graze while we alternated fishing and napping using the saddle as a pillow under a stream side shade tree. This was it, the day had finally come and a quite break would be well received right now. I had just worked up the mental picture of the get away in my minds eye, allowing me to release my fingernail grip on the concrete ceiling and come back down to ground level.... and then the call.

The Transport is running late coming in from Jackson Hole, wont be here until after closing time and I have to stay late for an after hours delivery. Such a kind and happy voice on the other end, the Passport driver had no idea of the trials of my week, he was just doing his best to get here safely. Testing every fiber of my being I replied, "It's no big deal (HAH, itttt's back), take your time and we will wait". Heck, there is a flippin mile of fence that needs mending and re stringing on a 100+ degree weekend here at home, who wants to be frustrated by some damn fish that are picky on the fly selection, we can go for a ride here at home. The new 8.5', 5wt fly rod that was waiting since early winter to be broken in... the one that filled the rifle scabbard in my pink fuzzy dream, will be replaced again by a large caliber Rifle because now I have an odd desire to shoot something. Nothing brings about a broad smile and a happy mood like a tight grouping in the 10 Ring, this will be fine... right up until I find out that is Kris' target and mine only has one hole in it. I can make a straight faced plea that all of my rounds went through the same hole, knowing all the time that Kris is the one that taught Jenni "Woman 101"!

Guess I should be the wiser and just stick with a 100# spool of barbed wire, the .22 loaded with snake shot and a fence pliers, that has a better chance of ending well. Maybe I will find time to work on the car this weekend after all. I can view that as my happy time because ANYTHING is better than barbed wire! Lets see how that plan unfolds.... funny how it all comes full circle and back to "the car"...

 

I just hope you make it this way before I turn into a drooling and quivering blob that Jen hangs a drool cup on and sets in the corner as an ornament.

Kris and her friend from MN, Nan, sat on the back deck watching me chase down the yearling calves that break into my south pasture. Ripping through the pasture airborne half the time in my ranch rat LandCruiser, standing on the drivers seat, steering with my knees and trying to Lasso them with a Lariat. I tried the same with my horse when we were renting a house while building ours. That time the town Cop stopped by the house and asked for help catching an Ostrich that was terrorizing people on the sidewalk in town. The horse thought it was great fun catching up with that 'thing' but once along side it, getting a good look at the Ostrich... the horse freaked out after figuring out it was NOT a horse it was chasing, it was something Very Ugly! By the time the dust settled I was sitting halfway up its neck with my face planted between its ears.... that big lard ass horse had Never stopped that fast before but it wanted away from that ugly bird. From that day forward the horse refuses to chase anything bigger than a dog, now its the LandCruiser's job.

One needn't have a vivid imagination to write this stuff. As I have said before, the Truth is Far stranger than fiction in my life... who could make this stuff up! The Cop....his uniform shirt was wet from the stream of tears running down his cheeks. Chasing that ugly bird was the first of three times the Cop stopped by and asked for a hand, each stranger than the next. Thanks Spasso.... cant find the bolt for the 410 single so .22 Mag birdshot will have to do but it is an excellent suggestion. That sounds like enough fun I might machine up a swivel mount on the roll bar of the Cruiser.... Rat Patrol, Colorado. All the neighbors already think I am certifiable looney... "the goofy midwest Flatlander who keeps trying to grass on a rock", might as well raise the bar a bit.

Lunch break is done, back to stretching wire...

 

Our Farrier is a beautiful redhead gal, an incredible sense of humor... just a hoot to have around. She has been trying to talk Kris into taking a number of her miniature Donkeys and a bunch of Peacocks. Seems her boyfriend is tiring of Her animal collection habits once the heard grew to the point of eating all the profit hay being baled. (Kris is identical in every way when it comes to animals, Cody the Boxer just got new knees and I have been wanting a pr for 16 years now... care to guess where I rate?).

The spoken word "NO" is something that is apparently not audible or the simple concept not grasped by either of these two ladies... Being the wiser I kept my mouth shut until the right time when she had a hoof locked between her knees and then quietly asked what Peacock tasted like.... running like hell dodging the nail nipping pliers, followed by the rasp, coming my way! Who would have thought her underhand was that accurate from a bent over position... DAMN! I am on a hunt to decrease the number of mouths to feed at this stage.... no more animals!

Fencing done, HAPPY to be back to work, on to Carbs and gasket scraping!

 

I have been at the "after" stage for many years now and have failed to convince a DR friend to do Triage repairs. A reasonable request I suggested because he constantly asked the same of me on his 550 repairs. Its just pieces and parts, how hard can it be? I have a bottle full of OXYsomething left over from the half dozen kidney stones I learned the joys of a few years back, another bottle of yellow pills from a few decades ago that I don't remember what they are supposed to fix, my kid sister who has so many letters after her name she forgets what they stand for and where she got them, gave me a Autopsy kit as a Christmas gift many years back (they are a strange bunch these Dr's)... DAMN, does this not sound exactly like a DIY thread in another section on this site?! Alas, I am so terrified of needles and knives I would have to anesthetize myself with a fine Single Malt to the point where I couldn't pick up the knife. I am terrified of Dr's and my Dr friend/customer knows it! I laid in the emergency room with my first batch of kidney stones and he asked who my regular Dr is and when my last visit was. "Sometime in the early 70's I had a hernia done and they did a physical back then... good to go". All of my Racing Physicals were done by a Dentist friend who grabbed my crotch and when I screamed like a school girl he proclaimed me 'Alive and fit to Race Cars'. Who said they dont have a sense of humor, my 'friend' scheduled a full.... Im talking FULL, physical with Dr Johnson.... "You will really like HER", I no longer have any secrets... none at all, running a bit low on humility as well after that experience! Nope, no Triage knee repairs, the Dr looked me in the eye and said "Consider yourself lucky, at least your not a Horse or we would have shot you by now". Guess that puts a new prospective on it, things are looking up and the knees hurt less.........

Today is the day.... a final test drive at midday has the potential of giving me back a life, one where I can focus on the 330 quest once again. Everyone in this business has a car, one that puts down roots and has been around long enough where anniversary dates have long been forgotten. One that gives us a reason why it shouldn't go home every time the key is turned. The head gasket Test Mule F40..... midday will be the decision point. Near 5 years waking at 3AM to have email and phone conferences with the Germans I enlisted to build these gaskets I designed. Given my fathers German heritage and my kids and Kris' insistence that I share all of the same attributes that I feel these folks did and do.... I wont go into that. Mom always suggested that it was the Swede and Norwegian side of me that allowed me to even exist on a social level, I fight the urge to find agreement with her suggestion after this ordeal. None the less, its just two more trouble free drives away from me having a life... and three work stalls back... the cheers will echo through the mountains if its meant to be! The gaskets havent been a problem since we first put them on, but everything surrounding the gaskets in every direction... a whole different matter. The F40 goes home and then I replant the engine and trans in some fool thing with a Carp Spear / Frog Gig hanging on the grill that snuck in during a weak moment years back.... There is a bright light in the tunnel now, is it an inbound Train or Hope? Im that close now and then can work with a clear head.