Barn find.... today

Ding, Ding, Ding!

This project would make every Vintage anything owners skin crawl. A brand new engine rebuild has a problem, scoring a piston and the wall. ONE piston removed, the wall hand honed to +.005 (with .005" taper, the oversize measurement given was just in the middle of the wall stroke... "your mileage WILL varry" above and below that), with the crank still in place. A new +.010 piston was HAND FILED, not cut in a lathe, to roughly fit the new hole size... and it was thrown together and proclaimed as good as new. The piston.... 32 grams heavier than all the others. That was just the beginning of the story..........

 

The Smurf is camping in some Wilderness area on top of a mountain. With a recent Birthday, she took Friday off and headed into the hills.

This is proving to be the least productive weekend on the 330 to date.... or is it?

I had the most memorable ride in the F40 on Friday morning... one of those that will last a lifetime! Smiles from the owner in the drivers seat, looking over his left shoulder to see where we were headed down the on ramp. Post drive, we loaded it in the trailer and it is now back where it belongs, with its owner. Kris' friend Nan is in town for a visit, the two terrorizing all the mountain towns together. With our anniversary on Friday, she too took the day off. Not so much as a peep around the shop, with the quite time I was able to build one twin plug 6 cylinder distributor out of 5. This making up the most impressive "Bitsa" distributors to date, the 6 cylinder from Hell is that much closer to being dropped in place next week... The ladies came by the shop around 3 and were kind enough to declare it quitting time for me.... imagine that! No, this is not shaping up to be a working weekend, this will be a well needed rehab weekend. The fires are finally out, long term challenges at the shop are finally cooperating and heading back to their rightful resting places...

Arriving home early, I felt a ting of guilt (No, really, trust me) and pulled out the 3" thick novel above the work computer at home labeled "Honey, DO!", turned to page 311... and the phone rang. It's a dear friend who owns a 'Smelly Jelly Bean' (what else would one call a 360 Coupe?)... "Lets take the girls flying". I pull up the aviation weather on the computer to see if it is possible and come up with Severe afternoon thunderstorms, temps in excess of 100F.... Four of us (the two lunatics get the rear seat) in a POS rental plane recently pummeled to death by hail, heading into the mountains, at triple digit temps with storms building early afternoon.... SURE, what could go wrong with that, we would love to but we best get an early start if that weedwacker has any chance of pulling us up the mountain about tree top level.

I had wanted to survey the near by fire damage, make sure we still had defendable space around our valley, scout a few new horse trails along mountain streams and the Mile High Nationals are happening this weekend..... what better way to watch the Drags and not buy tickets? Yes, of course I tried to find Jen's camping spot and buzz it. Sure hope that was her yellow tent, if not there is one seriously angry camper on top of a mountain, one who hiked a looong way to get away from it all. Jen is going to be seriously angry because we both have been trying to find time in our lives to follow through with actually getting our license and buy a bent, used up, run out POS plane of our own. Kris' opinion on the ownership idea... well.... she understands the Shoe Makers kid syndrome first hand all too well. She too has seen decades of first hand evidence that I follow through on my theory of "If it has wheels, its meant to be raced". Dont worry Dear... "It's no big deal", what could go wrong? No, this weekend will be for playing which should refresh us both for a heavy 330 surge next week.
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Eldora it is. I was going to clear the ridge and photo Winter Park but the clouds were building and as the heat of the day rose.... the controls were starting to get pretty spongy at 11.8K altitude.

When we finished preflight and came to the conclusion the best we could agree on was "All the Big parts were there"... Sure does create a pucker up when the first bout of turbulance is dealt with. There are times when knowing how something is supposed to look, sound and work.... is a disadvantage. Ignorance would be so comforting at moments like this, Jenni, Bill and myself would look like the 3 monkeys

 

It does speak to the topic of my recent rants re the currently accepted quality of repairs on just about anything in todays world. Why, for the love of Pete, would someone take any pride in doing these types of repairs to a Plane.... that is beyond me! Maybe the base problem is a total lack of pride, maybe the ultimate quest to find the cheapest possible way to do something... hell, I dont know what drives this mentality.... but Really, on a plane?!

I stock 16 different sizes, styles and lengths of CamLoc fasteners at the shop... on hand right there. Why is it accepted that all but two holding the cowl panels on a plane of all things are broken and have been that way for years now? I use these on the race cars we fabricate and restore, not planes, but wouldnt you think those that work on planes could find a few laying in the corner of the bench?

OK, I understand its a rental, how many would line up for a deal on a Red Mustang offered for sale by Hertz? I find myself thinking too much on some of these flights while watching the gauges. Lean it down and watch the cylinder head temps climb...OK thats good. Cycle the prop..... hey, why doesnt it... Oh, there it goes, must have been cold oil in the hub (at 85F, sure it was). Hang it on the prop looking to clear a 10K ridge 30 miles out and watch the oil temp climb, the oil pressure drop slowly.... and then start to wonder... if there were just a few of those CamLoc's in place on the cowl and the air went where it was really designed to go... I have a thing about gauges, call it OCD, I feel they should be trusted and respected. A redline on a tach is there for a reason, it was not a slip of an assembler who was painting her nails at the time... it is supposed to mean something, no different than the redline on the oil temp gauge.

I am grateful this plane didnt have rear inter-com's and the ladies in the back seat were unable to listen to Bill and my conversations. "Hey Bill, how does that oil temp look from a straight on viewing position?" "Oh, its about a needles width short of redline... its fine". "I have traffic and a ridge out ahead of me I want to keep my eyes on.... look under the dash and see if the linkage is hooked up to the cowl flaps". Bill has his A&P and is a Commercial Airline pilot, he moves his seat back, unbuckles and gets under the dash stating "yup, looks like its hooked up on this end, watch your airspeed and I will try closing them". "Looks like they are working Bill... I picked up a little speed when you closed them... pull them open again". Bill wrestles the sticky linkage back into the flaps open position and I stare at the temp's expecting to see them slowly drop to mid gauge, alternating my viewing pleasure to the oil pressure and watching... hoping is a better word, for a climb on that gauge.... alas it was not meant to be. "Hey Bill, wouldnt it be nice if this POS had all the cowl fasteners functional, directing air in the proper directions?", I ask as I richen the hell out of it looking for any way to cool it down a little. "What... you want it to work as designed? Look at the bright side, when the engine ventilates itself, this way you will get an early indication and have all doubt removed when the oil covers the windscreen!". OK...what was I thinkin... back to focusing on flying this thing while trying to find comfort in the thought that the gauge markings are "green"... right up until they are "Red". I couldnt shake the nagging feeling I had been here before, then it dawned on me! Just last week on a 456/550 thread discussing how a 3/4 to 4/5 temp gauge reading was just fine... it wasnt in the red yet so it must be OK. Oh hell, Bill was right, no need to pucker up until the first spec's of oil start to make lines on the windshield! It feels like a half hour passes doing the mental gymnastics but in reality it is just a few seconds before I push the prop out of Cruise and push the throttle full in. "Hey, where you heading in a hurry?" asks Bill. "UP, altitude is my friend right now. I saw on Mythbusters that the surface of a golf ball with all the Pot Marks reduces the wind resistance. With all the damn hail damage on this thing... we should be able to coast this brick all the way to flat land if that Redhead was right!!!"

Kris still giggles when the take off procedure in our 308 involves a swift slap of the gauge binnacle so the oil pressure gauge starts to work. Her sense of humor would have been tested had the rear intercom worked, then being privy to the above conversation while over the mountains. I dare say she would have taken over as flight director had that been the case... her sense of humor is still a work in progress in those regards. "Ignorance is Bliss"... the one who coined that must have recently rented a plane at the same place! The Ladies in the back seat... they bought the line that Bill was just stretching out a cramp while folded up looking under the dash... all is good.

 

As my father wisely says, "The pendulum swings both ways", in time we will become so fed up with the resulting problems of this thinking that we will all long for quality once again. I am terribly sick of "Consumer Acceptable" and the results that mentality burdens us with. Everything in our daily lives is now considered disposable and when this thinking is employed in 'Planes' or 'Vintage Ferrari's... the end results usually end up FUBAR. Alas, I am unable to change the mind set and can only control what I do.

Enough playing around, all rested having once again survived another "Sanford & Son Budget Plane Rental".... I swear, IF I ever find time in my life to follow through on my dream of flying I will OWN a plane... with a rear seat inter-com.... with a mute switch. Bent, broken, beat up, run out.... at least I will KNOW the bolts are tight, the big parts stand a better than even chance of staying in place and the last one to fly it didnt simulate being a lawn dart! With so many out of state customers... (OK, cut me some slack, I am working on my sales technique to Kris) The funniest part is watching Jenni keep a straight face while supporting my sales ploy to her... "No really Mom, we need..." Within moments she is interupted by "that look", you know the one, while Kris points to all my Race cars hanging from the ceiling and walls awaiting restoration, while remaining completely speachless. "Killjoy"! "Oh dont you even... you conned me on the idea of how we needed those race cars because they would pay for the kids Collage some 30 years ago... blah, blah, blah". "I am aging the steel, any good race car builder knows...." "You Flake, they VINTAGE race those now, when you bought them they were currently being campaigned!" No, the Motorcycle guys on TV wouldnt last a day in this shop, the Killjoy in the office would have them by the short hairs, whining like school girls!

Back to the filth.... Kris will be back to work today after she drops her friend at the airport for a return trip to the Norwegian Rivera of Minnesota. What better time to open up the carbs at the work bench next to the office before she returns from the airport. The fine aroma of 30 year old fuel will hang in the air like a fog, wrinkling all the hairs in your nose. Having worked in this shop with Women for near a decade now, I'm a slow learner but a good study given time. The technique of 'payback' is actually a fine art form, when done properly has the recipient questioning if it was 'intended' hours after the deed was done. Wanna make me buying a bent and broken plane sound ridiculous do you....? "NO, Dear, I never once even considered those carbs would smell up the office... you know, we do this type of work here...How dare you suggest (always take the high road, its the best defendable position) I would...". Hah! Take that... and just try to prove it was intentional..... pop my bubble will ya. Payback has only begun, the carb bodies are warped and will have to be straightened. Maybe I will forget to clean them before they hit the oven on the straightening jig, that ought to raise the bar and have her calling Uncle!
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OH.... I already hold the Grand National Champion title on using Kitchen appliances!

She left town one weekend and the dishwasher became the parts washer, the oven used for curing wrinkle paint and the electric carving knife used for shaping styrofoam for fiberglass nose cone molds. How in the heck could she smell it a week later is beyond me given the effort that went into the post use cleanup.... but she did. "Is that all you used in my Kitchen?" Yes Dear (after 30 some years now a simple reflex respose). It wasnt until a number of months later that she was carving a roast and ended up with strofoam beads on it ....."DAVID!". My Mom called me David... and only when there was hell to pay. Some 35 pages were added to the afore mentioned Honey DO! book in the following days.

 

I spoke with my insurance agent about covering a plane for me.... BIG mistake! He asked, let me get this right, an 'Old' racer who refuses to quit, wants to buy a bent and broken plane with retractable gear, a Turbo and an adjustable prop.... and hasnt got his liscence yet. "Sure, we can cover that. Pay in advance for 3 years and I can retire!"

Note to self, deal with an agent who doesnt know me.

I am going to blame Dad for the dishwasher fiasco. When I still had brown hair he told me "anything nasty enough to etch glass (automatic dishwasher soap) is good enough to clean car parts!". Its not THAT big of a stretch to use the logic that if it is meant for an automatic dishwasher.... it should work pretty well in one. The logic proved accurate but had a few flaws in the application.... the flaws proved expensive, I recommend against it.

 

Near brought me to tears.... They must have known one another!