Presidents Corner
I want to start by thanking everyone for the positive response to last months news letter. I am happy to see so much enthusiasm! I will be printing the articles submitted by our club members in the next few months.
I wanted to let you know that all of the news letters will be online at www.WillitsShifters.com also. The pictures that may be in an article will be clear and in full color.
I am looking forward to many fun outings with all of you this year!
Konokti trip in brief
Our trip to Konocti County Club left from Little Lake Auto Parts at 9:50 led by Neil Orr & his father in there Pontiac Tempest. The weather was a bit overcast but seventeen of us turned up to go. Considering such short notice I was very pleased. We arrived at 11:30 and where seated in a room with a beautiful view over looking the lake. The food and conversation was great; even though one half of the table got to sit and watch while the other half ate.
New Way To Carjack (not a joke)
Submitted by Lois Bettrencourt from the Mustang news letter
You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car, and get inside. Then you start your engine and shift into reverse, and you look into the rearview mirror to back out of your parking space; You notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of your rear window. So, you shift into park unlock your doors and jump out of your car to remove the paper ( or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view. When you reach the back of your car, that is when the carjackers appear out of nowhere, jump into your car an take off! Your engine was running and they practicaly mow you down as they speed off in your car! And guess what ladies? I bet your purse is still in the car… BE AWARE OF THIS NEW SCHEME THAT IS NOW BEING USED. Just drive away and remove the paper that is stuck to your window later, and be thankful that you read this. A purse contains all of your identification , and you certainly don’t want someone getting your home address. They already have your key!
Status Quo
By Jean Zanardi
He bought a car which doesn’t run,
This doesn’t matter to my son,
He sees it as a shining gem
And it means a lot to him;
It’s kind of old and needs repair
But it’s made him walk on air;
He talks and tells me of such things
As fuel pumps and piston rings,
Carburetors, four speed gears,
As underneath the hood he peers;
Customizing is the thing,
Oh, the prestige it will bring.
His waking hours he’ll be found
Neath the hood or on the ground,
Full of grease from head to toe,
Yes, he’s really in the know;
He puts together, takes apart
With a very happy heart,
His status quo has really soared
Since he acquired this beat up Ford;
His friends drop by to see this prize
And there’s envy in their eyes;
He’s just fifteen, my bright eyed son,
And owns a car which doesn’t run.
I hope you enjoyed this poem as much as I did. I want to thank Andy for submitting it along with his story The Young Mechanic!
Fortbragg Whale Festival
Our next planned outing will be the Whale festival on March 18th.We will leave the Burger King Parking lot at 7:45 am. So show up a bit early; maybe get something to eat and visit before we leave.The flyer says the show will be cancled if it is raining. Many times in the past the weather has been bad here and nice there so a brave few may venture out even if it’s wet here.
Board & General meeting
Our board meeting will be at the Bettencourts shop Monday March 6th at 6:00 pm. All club members are welcome.
The general meeting is on March 9 at 7:00 pm. With after meeting goodies supplied by Bill & Lorri Barker. I look forward to seeing you there!
Creeper Race Results
At last months meeting we held creeper races. The Racers where Jim Montalvo, Lee Bryant, John Yde, Dave Bouthillier, Neil Orr, & Carolyn Cunningham.
When all was said and done Neil Orr ended up our Winner.Afterwards the club all devoured a chocolate cake and had some friendly conversation.
Donut Derilects
A hardy few of us; at Brad Wealtons lead met last Saturday morning (6am) under the Willits arch. It was a bit cool out but it gave us an excuse to wear our whool jackets and talked cars. There was also the added bonus of seeing the sunrise. There wasn’t any donuts as there where none to be had that early. I think a walk over to Chevron for a Krispy cream next time may solve that problem. Brad would like to make this a regular Saturday morning event weather permitting.
The Young Mechanic
By Andy Zanardi
My first experience with anything to do with the mechanics of a car came at the early age of six. I was in the first grade of the local parochial school just one block from home. My father had decided that the ‘46 Buick’s engine needed to be overhauled or replaced. I should now say that my father did not understand then or at any time through his life the workings of an engine, let alone the other components of a car. Despite this lack of knowledge he attempted to tackle the job at hand. The “Fireball 8” was a good size engine tipping the scales at well over 500 pounds. Rebuilding this monster, in place, was a costly endeavor so a used engine from the wrecking yard was acquired. Dad raised the car as high as he could, hoping to remove the engine from the bottom. He soon realized that this was not going to happen and the engine could only be removed from above. He borrowed a block & tackle and some chain. Next he looked around for something to attach the rig to. Wa La!! An “A” framed swing. Mine. It was put in place with the block & tackle and the chain was pulled, and pulled, and pulled. The engine just sat there.
As I walked up the driveway I couldn’t help but see my swing set limply bent in a “V” pointing down to the engine of the long black Buick. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a coffee “Royal” with his head lowered. My mother was doing everything in her power to keep from falling down laughing. Me, I just stood there with tears running down my face. Dad eventually found a way to get the engine out and the other back in. My swing on the other hand was never quite the same.
The next attempt to do automotive repairs came a few years later. The big Buick was gone and dad was now driving a 1951 Dodge Coronet. The power plant was typical of the day. An in-line flathead six. The transmission was something unusual though. There was a shifter on the column and a clutch pedal on the floor. The shifter basically had two positions, other than reverse. In the up position was a compound gear set and in the lower position was the normal gear set. Essentially you would push the clutch pedal in, drop the shifter to the lower position, let the clutch out and press on the throttle. Nothing unusual about that except that the next gear change came by either letting off the throttle so the solenoid could shift to the next gear without load to the transmission or you would press down on the clutch pedal so the solenoid could make the shift to the next gear, again without load on the transmission. That was it. Two gears forward. The compound gear set was only used for heavy loads, like when my dad went down to the river to get sand to make concrete.
One day the thing quit shifting and I was given the job of removing the drive shaft so the transmission could be taken out. Remember I was just a kid at the time. The rear of the car was raised and set on cinder blocks. Dad had told me to just unbolt the u-joints and the drive shaft would come right out. Wrong. I’m under the car and I don’t see any u-joints. It’s a closed drive line. I spent the better part of the day removing the rear axle assembly, including the springs so that the transmission could be accessed. With the tranny on the ground it was thoroughly inspected with no apparent damage found. As it turned out there was nothing wrong with tranny. The wire to the solenoid had broken off.
By now my mother had learned to drive so another car was purchased. An almost new white over red ‘55 Mercury Montclair, loaded. That summer we were on our way to New Mexico in the Merc for a one week vacation. Actually it was to see the relatives. Dad always drove this route at night to avoid the desert heat which could be well into the 110-120 range. At night it would still be in the 90’s. About 100 miles into the 900 mile drive the engine started to overheat. A canvas water bag was standard equipment for crossing the desert so the engine was quickly cooled and refreshed. Further down the road overheating was again the problem. As the night progressed many stops had to be made to add water and now a new problem, the engine was loosing oil. Instead of turning around and heading for home, dad insisted we move forward. By the time we reached Gallup the Merc was spewing white and blue smoke a mile behind.
My uncle owned a Chevron station in town which had a rack and lots of tools. The heads came off and we found a big hole in one of the pistons. Not good. Dad called the two or three wrecking yards to find a replacement engine. Since the 292 V8 was a relatively new engine finding one in a wrecked car would be difficult to say the least. The only used 292 in town had a hefty price tag so dad decided to replace the piston and put in new rings & bearings. The ridge was reamed and cylinders honed. New rings were put on the pistons which were then carefully positioned in the block. Keep in mind that I am the one doing the work while dad is drinking beer and discussing family business with my uncle. I didn’t know much about putting pistons, rings or bearings in an engine so I would ask my uncle for advice. The thinking here was that my uncle owned a gas station and garage so he must know all about engines, right. Wrong. When it came time for the bearings I asked which way they should go on and I followed his advice to a “T”.
Now it’s time to start the engine. The ignition key is turned and the engine goes into a quick spin then falls off to a slow crawl. It wasn’t cranking fast enough to start. The ‘55 had a six volt system so the thinking was jump the battery with 12 volts to get it spinning. This didn’t work so out on the road for a push start. It eventually started but every time it was shut down it would not crank fast enough to restart. The pan was pulled and it was discovered that the bearings had spun because they were put in backward. There is a reason why those little tabs are there. Boy was I glad to get home.
Not The car from Andy’s story but a picture for those not knowing what a 46 Buick looks like.
