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The Wanderer

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
We're building a bugout/survival vehicle for the apocalypse here, right? :giggle:

Pick a response.
1) I have God, so my relocation plan for the end of time includes figuring out how to get traction on streets of gold and whether or not to use the mansion in the New Jerusalem or the country one.
2) clearly not, no gun safe.

:horns:

This is like an RV, only for people who hate people thus cannot stand RV parks and who take weekend trips to Mexico (from Seattle). 3-10 days, 2 people 3 or so large dogs....
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
There isn't much on a diesel that is mission critical - keep the shut off pin open and you're good to go.

I don't know if I'll have room for a 2nd alternator - depends on the AC portion of the HVAC. if there is a 110v/230v ac compressor, most of the room opened up by the removal of the engine driven pump would be lost....
I like the idea of using a charge controller that manages the solar panels as well. I think when camping, for the most part the solar/batteries will be for the water pump, a fan to keep the air moving inside, and for the refrigerator.... combined, not a lot of draw. If I need AC it would be run by a portable, gas (or propane) generator.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
back on the lift.... making sure the center of the lift is 1/3 the distance from the front wheel


so the reason was I thought the power issue could be the fusible link on the starter... nope


going a different radio route - or maybe fewer radios. This covers am/fm, CB, FRS/GMRS, and HAM 2m 70cm and 10m, and commercial bands along with the ability to work as a police scanner. I think the 'stereo' system will be mp3/bluetooth.

and the wire fixes continue


here is where the cruise and cannister take off should be connected

given how everything has fought me on this - I seriously doubt this will fix the cruise issue, but start with low-hanging then move up the fixit tree

cannister

installed

line ran


this is what the connection looks like at the pump

I lost a transmission because the cooler lines got brittle then broke (while at full-bean climbing a mountain)

so I replace them
and while I was at it, I noticed something that could later be an issue


fixed


silliness - it was repainted, but they didn't take the primer off that was causing the problem...


new wiper motor - it wasn't the problem (starting to be a recurring theme)


I wish the easy stuff fixed it - but I figure this is a good primer for someone who has a square body with the common issues. Most of the fixes I've done so far are the 'common' fixes for the issue so if you're starting on your square and you have these issues, these are the first steps...
tomorrow, more wiring but first I need to find the break.... which is either under the turbo or in the harness that crosses behind the motor.... or somewhere else...
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
something like this?

http://www.theinverterstore.com/300...24-volt.html?gclid=CIPw-uKa1dICFUqVfgodm7AFkg
3000-watt-pure-sine-inverter-charger-24-volt-52.gif
 

JPaul

Well-Known Member
Messages
2,400
Location
Way up north, UT
That one does not include a charge controller for use with solar or other DC charging sources, it charges the battery when you have mains AC being supplied, and then switches over to battery when the power goes out. It's designed for in-home use. You'd still need a separate charge controller to charge the batteries with solar. But this would be great if you want to be able to charge the batteries back up after you get home, you can just plug it into your house/garage wiring.

 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
Its attraction to me was I could charge the batteries off the generator.

what do you think about all-in-one when it comes to integrating panels with batteries and a generator? my general experience has been that if you need 3 things, it's better to buy 3 cheap (read simple) devices then it is to buy one expensive device that does it all (thus fitting under my "if something does everything, it does nothing well" rule)
 

JPaul

Well-Known Member
Messages
2,400
Location
Way up north, UT
If you're going to be using a generator then that'd be a good one to get, since you can just hook the generator up to that and then have everything connect through the inverter since it has an auto-transfer switch built in, and it should charge the batteries at the same time. You'd then get a charge controller to go between the solar panel(s) and the battery bank to charge off of solar (or any other DC source).

So you'd operate a few different ways:

1: Inverter running off of alternator power with engine running (charges batteries and supplies power to inverter)

2: Inverter running off of battery bank while:
A: Solar panels charge batteries/supply power through charge controller (if draw from inverter is more amps than charge controller/solar panels can provide it will pull the extra from the batteries - discharging them. Also note that the "Load" outputs on a charge controller should only be hooked up to any load that pulls less amps than the controller is rated for, if the load needs more than that, you hook it directly to the battery bank!)
OR
B: Batteries being discharged (night time, no solar, engine off, no generator power)

3: Inverter in bypass mode, 110v supplied by generator (charges batteries simultaneously) - Note: Charge controller should automatically stop trying to charge batteries when it senses the voltage on the battery side is high enough, so the batteries will only be charged by either the solar OR the generator/inverter charger


The solar panels are not going to provide near enough power to run a 3000 watt inverter straight up unless you haul a trailer with you that has a massive solar panel array that folds out (20 feet by 11 feet using 12x 250 watt panels for 3000 watts total). All the solar panels will be able to do is help charge up the batteries in between uses. A couple 250 watt panels would measure 65" x 80" roughly, so those would fit on top of the Suburban OK and provide 500 watts of power at full illumination, so about 20 amps at 24v, which isn't bad at all really. You're rarely going to get that much output though since that's at full noon on a clear day with the panels aimed directly at the sun during the summer in the desert. A third panel would increase it to about 30 amps, so with losses and inefficiency you'd still be around 20 amps on a good day probably.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
If my calculations are correct, I should be able to run all I need off what the solar provides and/or what's stored in the batteries - it's just the energy-sapping ac that creates the need for alternative generating. 65" is a bit wide, I need to keep the panels to 48" wide so that the rack protects them.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
[FONT=&quot]so I learned something. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]On every GM truck I'd seen before this, two wires go to the starter - one from the alternator and one that powers the entire rig. This one has one from the starter, but none from the alternator.... that one, the wire I removed that was half a lamp cord was the one supplying the full-time power... easy enough to replace and all works again(ish)[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]the green line to the battery... yeah :([/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]the rest of the evening was spent putting fluid in my transmission jack - and it still doesn't work... this is getting annoying.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]next is the suspension - my patience for wiring is over at the moment (though I am not done), but maybe lifting a truck will raise my spirits (at minimum, it'll raise a truck)[/FONT]
 

JPaul

Well-Known Member
Messages
2,400
Location
Way up north, UT
One 250 watt panel is 65 by 40, so one would fit inside your roof rack fine. Otherwise 100 watt panels are usually about 48 x 22, but you'd only get 200 watts in about the same space as one 250 watt panel if you mounted two of them. Alternatively you can mount two 250 and have them fold together to fit inside/under the roof rack. If you have space under the rack (or make space) then you could make it so they fold together and slide under the rack, then when you're stopped and want to charge you can can slide them out and unfold them. Bonus is you'd have a bit of an awning.


If my calculations are correct, I should be able to run all I need off what the solar provides and/or what's stored in the batteries - it's just the energy-sapping ac that creates the need for alternative generating. 65" is a bit wide, I need to keep the panels to 48" wide so that the rack protects them.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
sounds like I need to get busy with a tape measure.... however, it's 11 feet off the ground right now (the roof) so it'll have to happen a bit later


there would be pictures tonight but photobucket is being a bucket


in lieu of that, we have another episode of the Wanderers and the question haunting all of your minds - will my Suburban weight 14,000 lbs when done....
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
THE WILD ONE AT GRAVELRAMA!

By Rick Sieman





When we last left Carl and Emma, Carl had gotten lost on the backroads while trying a shortcut visit to Emma's Uncle Howard in Ohio. What with the darkness and the fog, Carl had no idea he had wandered into the competitor's area at the famed Gravelrama event. And when an event official approached Carl, mistaking him for a competitor, Carl thought it would not be a bad idea to enter an event or three. Emma was nearly speechless.

"Welcome to Gravelrama, sir We don't get too many full-sized trucks like yours entering the events. Just sign here and indicate the events you want to enter."
Carl looked at the clipboard. Hmmm. Mud bogs ... hillclimbs ... obstacle course. An evil look came into his eyes. Emma exploded: "Carl! You wouldn't dare!"
A lopsided grin appeared. "Where do I sign?"
The official held up a hand. "First we have to figure out what class you're going to be in. Sportsman or pro?"
Carl scratched his chin and spit a wad of tobacco about 23 feet, just missing a snoozing dog. The dog yelped and scrambled off. "I'm not sure."
"Well, make up your mind. Have you ever competed for money before?"
"Oh, yes ... all the time."
"Good. Then you're in the pro class. Go over there and have your truck weighed. By the way sir, yours is the most original monster truck I've
ever seen."

Emma dragged Carl off to one side. "Carl, have you lost your marbles? Has someone blown your pilot light out? What's this about racing for money?"
Carl grunted. "Don't you remember when I drag raced that bozo in the red Bronco? Over on that dry lake bed near where we were camping? I won ten bucks and a six pack of WartHog Light beer. No way can I compete against innocent Sportsmen with a record like that!"
Emma looked at the sky. "Carl, you big dummy, aren't you afraid of destroying 'The Whale'? And how do you expect to compete against real professional trucks?"
Carl shook his head from side to side. "Emma, you're forgettin' that I got a 454 under the hood with enough horsepower to probably change the rotation of the earth if I could get the traction. Anyways, 'The Whale will also be worlds lighter than all of those monster trucks. Those things hit the scales at ten or eleven thousand pounds or more. 'The Whale' will have the edge in the quick and nimble department."

A half hour later, Carl drove The Whale off the scales and was handed a slip of paper. "Fourteen thousand, two hundred and eighteen pounds! This can't be right! Hey buddy, you better check those scales!"
The scale man pushed his wire rimmed glasses back on his nose and studied the print-out form from the scales. "Sorry, sir. You're right. Should be fourteen thousand, four hundred and eighteen pounds. You know, it's amazing your rig is that light, what with that boat on the top, and that satellite dish, and those two air conditioners, and that pair of trail bikes, and that TV antenna, and those three roll-up awnings, and the
remote shower, and those fold out barbecues, and those ..."
Carl cut in, "Hey, put it in neutral, will you buddy! I know it's no lightweight, but you don't have to rub it in."
"Sorry sir. It's just that it's so, so ... big. Anyway, take this slip over to sign-up and give it to the officials with your entry form."

Carl got in line at sign-up, while Emma stood alongside, quietly singing church hymns, much to Carl's consternation. Eventually, he got up to the table and stood there in front of the white haired old lady running sign up.
She looked up, smiled, and barked, "What are you, a mute, or just stupid. Gimmee that paper."
Meekly, Carl handed over the weigh-in slip.
The lady peered over her glasses at it. "Hmmm. Over 14,000 pounds. This puts you in the Unlimited Monster Truck class. You'll be going up against USA 1, King Kong, The Virginia Beach Beast, The Festering Boil Mark 11, Big Foot and about a dozen others. Now, do you just want to sign up for an individual event, or hit all three and go for the overall?"
"Uhh, what are the events?"
"Well, since this is the first year we've had a Monster Truck competition, I guess maybe you're not familiar with our format. We got us three events, starting with the sand drags, then it's the obstacle course and, of course, we wrap it up with the hill climb. Double points on the hill climb. Come on now, get your finger out of your nose; what's it gonna be. One? All three?"
"Duhh ... all three, I guess."
"Good. Sign here and cough up some entry fee money. And lots of luck, fat boy. You'll need it."

Competition started with the sand drags. It was a typical side-by-side format. Carl edged up to the lights and looked at the monster truck next to him. It was a huge Dodge pickup with flames belching out of the open headers. On the door was a name: Thundering Dog Breath, and there was a drawing of a rabid hound with flames pouring out of its nostrils. Carl shuddered as he listened to the outrageous engine snarl and bellow.
The lights turned green and the Dodge shot off the line, while Carl sat there with his engine revving wildly. He had forgotten to put it in gear, violating one of drag racing's most important tenets.
Luckily, the Dodge shredded its motor to itsy-bitsy pieces 35 yards out. Carl put The Whale into gear and quietly drove by the smoldering Dodge, being careful not to
run over the melted blower laying in his lane.

Round One to The Whale.

What happened after that staggers the imagination: three of the next four competitors red-lighted on the start and one got a wheel over the marked line and was DQ-d. Carl found himself in the finals against Big Foot. It was not much of a contest, as Big Foot turned in a 7-second flat run against Carl's 18.9. Still, Carl had managed a second place and some valuable points.

The obstacle course was run against the clock, and, as luck would have it, Carl drew the first start. He blasted off the line and did, indeed, keep the pedal to the metal. The Whale lurched, bounced, slithered, heaved, wallowed and plowed around the course.
It cleared a small jump, and the boat fell off the top. On a rough straight, the satellite dish toppled off and rolled through the trees.
Carl lost the front trail bike on the off-camber sweeper and the rear trail bike jiggled off on the short down hill. Through the mud bog, two of the awnings ripped off and five coolers fell out of the rear window.
Fishing rods rattled around inside the cab and copies of Field and Stream fluttered inside like crazed snow. A coffee maker did a U-turn like a boomerang in mid-air, then turned itself into shards of glass when the refrigerator door slammed it against a wall.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
Carl made a mental note to flip the fridge lock in the "down" position before his next race. This was accentuated as a wedge of cheddar cheese splattered against the dash, followed by a head of lettuce, that was just starting to get brown on the edges.
A loaf of Wonder Bread hit Carl in the back (no injury), but the butter dish that nailed him in the thigh. Now that hurt! A cord from a hair dryer wrapped around Carl's neck, and the plastic appliance bounced off his chest.
On the next jump, the dryer hit Carl on the chin and turned itself on the high setting. A blast of hot air aimed straight down at Carl's crotch, and he started to make howling sounds and jiggle his legs madly.
This made him stomp on the throttle harder, which actually gave him a pretty good time on the last third of the course.
Crossing the finish line, Carl let out a huge sigh of relief and slumped over the wheel, exhausted. The dryer blew a steady stream of hot air on his left ankle. Carl got his time slip and headed for the porta-potties to change his underwear.

The rest of the competitors didn't turn in very good times. It seems like most of them were slowed down by running over objects on the course. One guy hit a satellite dish and broke a tie rod. Another ran over a trail bike and got three flat tires.
Only Big Foot turned in an obstacle course time close to Carl, and it was slowed down considerably by the boat it had to drag over half the course. The anchor had somehow gotten hooked on a shock and at the other end of 65 feet of nylon line, a bass boat ripped trenches in the ground with an upside-down Evinrude motor.

At the end of the obstacle course run, Carl and Big Foot were tied with each having a first and a second. Unless they both screwed up big time, the winner would be whoever won the hill climb.

Word filtered through the crowd: it was Big Foot against The Whale in the final. Most of the rest of the competition had been weeded out in the first two rounds with mechanical problems, or by hitting odd objects on the obstacle course and maiming vulnerable parts on the undercarriage.

Still, a few other monster trucks had to make their runs. The first one flipped over backwards right off the starting line. Another snapped a drive shaft half way up the hill, sending pea gravel flying in every direction from the wildly flailing shaft.

The third remaining truck, a huge Chevy called Snail-Tracks, revved its giant engine madly and prepared to make a serious run at the hill, when an extremely dumb crow flew by, intent on eating a juicy bug it was chasing, and darted head first into the gaping holes of the huge blower. The engine burped, coughed and then died. A flutter of black feathers wafted out of the headers and the juicy bug gave a sigh of relief and headed back to its home to do whatever it is that bugs do.

This left The Whale and Big Foot. A coin was flipped and Carl lost; this meant he had to go first.
Carl gulped and eased The Whale up to the line and peered up at the hill. It was almost a football field long and made entirely of a zillion tons of gravel dumped in a giant heap.
How steep was it? Well, as steep as you can stack gravel and not have it slide back down to level ground. Some said it was 45 degrees. Carl figured it was more like 89 degrees from horizontal.

Off to the side with the spectators, Emma knitted furiously. She was making a delightful sock out of red yarn. But she was so nervous that it was more than likely the only sock in the entire state of Ohio with five fingers knitted into the heel.

Carl rolled his window down and spit his plug of chewing tobacco out of the window, depositing the 3,812th stain on the side of The Whale since he had bought it years ago.

Most everything was tied down properly or removed from the inside of The
Whale. Carl didn't need any more stuff flying around on the inside of the cab while trying to climb this killer hill.

Carl gulped, checked to make sure the 4-WD lever was in four low, then slipped the trans into gear. The 454 under the hood howled and four tires threw rooster tails.
All too soon, The Whale was slanted sharply uphill. All Carl could see was blue sky and the occasional banner off to the side. He hit the first bad bump on the hill and the screws holding the gun rack to the roof ripped loose from the particle board backing.
Guns were rattling around inside the cab like ping pong balls in a bingo cage. A shot rang out and a chunk of the windshield exploded. Then a half dozen more shots barked through the cab as the guns jangled around in a tangled heap.
Carl ducked down as far as he could to avoid getting his head blown off as
the inside of The Whale sounded more and more like a Rambo movie.

All of a sudden, things felt strange. Gravity was either getting weird, or, or ... The Whale was heading back down the hill at full throttle!
Spectators and Officials alike scattered as The Whale charged back toward the starting line. Amazingly, Carl didn't hit anyone on his way into the mud bog.
The Whale eventually came to a halt up to the door handles in the deepest part of the slime. One last gun shot rang out, then Carl climbed out of the window, visibly shaken.

The officials calmed everyone down and got order restored. The signal was given to the driver of Big Foot to start up and make his run. A puzzled look came over the driver's face as the engine refused to turn over. A quick check was made on the battery connections and all of the ignition parts. Everything checked out just fine, but the engine would not even rotate the slightest bit.
An official looked at his watch. "Big Foot, you got 15 minutes to get that thing fired up, or forfeit the run."
Carl sidled over to Emma. "Typical Ford. Never starts when you really need them to."

The clock ticked by and Carl was named the winner of the hill climb. Disgruntled, the Big Foot crew loaded up and headed back to the shop. Two days later, they would find a bullet lodged right between the block and the timing gear.

Carl accepted his trophy and the $25,000 first place check, with a possum-eating grin. He turned to Emma, gave her a hug and said, "Well, looks like I had me a pretty good payday here. Twenty five big ones. Whaddaya think, honey pot?"
"I think were going to be lucky to break even. I did a rough estimate on the damage to the boat, the satellite, the trail bikes, the awnings and the interior of The Whale. Add a new paint job, body work and a windshield, and you might have made eighteen bucks. Tops. Now can we please load this mess up and get to Uncle Howard's before he passes away from old age?"
"Sure, Emma. One thing first, though. I saw this in a Marlon Brando movie once. Now looks like the perfect time to do it. Should impress Old Uncle Howard."

With that, Carl duct taped the big trophy to the hood of The Whale and pointed the battered and bruised rig toward Uncle Howard's House.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
Starting the lift.... first step, lower the transfer case - pretty easy, move the spacers from above the frame to between the frame and the cross member

funny, they didn't say I needed a come along to get things to line back up


next, trim a stop off the driveshaft (the bit marked in yellow)


wipers, part 3
a controller

a new controller installed


I think I have success - won't know until it's all back together but it seems I have delay, low and high speeds.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
back to fun after showing off my '40 today at a car show...
riding on air

now steel

I paid someone, once, to take this off.... feels so foolish every time I do it now because it's so easy


getting there


I gave up trying to find my brake hoses... I bought a second set that I didn't use on the fj40 build... no idea where they went. I'm sure they'll turn up a day or two after I get the new ones on.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
started to mount the sway bar, then realized I really need to buy some more 3/8 grade 8 bolts... tomorrow for sure


yesterday was air spring, now air steering


rear getting there


I always feel like, somebody's watching me


cut the ubolts down


I swear the back spring was harder then the front


sorting shocks


so I did it, I pulled the drum off.... 40%, maybe... time to turn the drum and put new pads.... but I do like stopping so it is what it is.


and good thing I did, passenger side was leaking
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
steering is no longer an air connection


nor is the sway bar


shocking development....


whoa




new whoa

front pad is on the bottom - notice how it's shorter?

thicker pad goes on the back (the longer pad)

apparently the PO didn't notice that. The driver's side was correct, passenger side not so much

assembled with go fast stickers on the shocks
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
THE WANDERERS #7

HITTING THE TRAILS WITH UNCLE HOWARD

By Rick Sieman

When we last left Carl and Emma, Carl had just won the Monster Truck Shootout at Gravelrama, through a bizarre chain of luck and weird occurrences. We join them now as they continue on to Uncle Howard's place.
***
Carl stuffed a fresh wad of Red Man into his cheek, fiddled with the radio and dialed in a good country station. The sounds of Amarillo Fats and the Moon Mountain Frog Kickers filled the spacious cab of the huge Suburban. One of Carl's favorite songs was on, the lilting "She Left Me For The Circus Geek Blues."

"Emma, how much more to go 'til we get to Uncle Howard's house anyways?"
Emma put down her knitting, furrowed her brows and peered at the road map. "Well, about 20 miles if you don't get us lost again."
"Lost? How often do I get us lost?"
"Ohh, there was that time in Utah when we had to back up three miles through an abandoned mine to reach the highway, then there was that time in Florida when you drove over that illegal still in the back woods and almost got us shot, then there was ... "
"Hey, put a lid on it, Emma. I mean lately."
"Lately? Remember that short cut in Oregon where we had to spend three days sleeping in The Whale until that Ranger showed us the way out? And then ... "
"Jeez. Never mind, never mind. I just wonder why we have to visit this dumb Uncle of yours anyway."
"Carl, you know that Uncle Howard is very ill and on his last legs. Aunt Millie says he may not last the year. And he is fami*ly, you know."
"Emma, that old coot has been dying for the last ten years. And the way he drives, it's amazing he made it past his twenties. Not to mention that lame World War II Jeep he owns. That thing is a death trap! It's got the original shocks from Day One, and I think he only changes the oil every five years or so.
"Now, Carl The doctors say that driving his Jeep around in the woods is healthy for him. It gets him out into the fresh air."
"If dear old Uncle Howard would change his life style a little bit, he'll probably live to be 165. Think about it. He sucks down a full quart of Jack Daniels whiskey every day with no mix or ice. Just drinks it out of a long straw so he don't have to take his cigars out of his mouth while he drinks. And how many cigars does he smoke a day? Twenty, is it?"
"Now dear, he's cut that down to 18 a day."
"Yeh, but he inhales 'em. Big ugly North Carolina stogies and he inhales 'em. Why don't he just chew some Red Man like I do if he's a tobacco man?"
"Well, he did that for a while, but Aunt Millie made him quit. He kept spitting on everything ... the grand kids, the chickens, the cat and the poodle, the mail man, the gas meter reader man, that white haired old lady that came around handing out copies of Watch Tower ... just about anyone he didn't like."
Carl grunted. "Which is most everybody. Your Uncle Howard is the most foul-mouthed irritating person I've ever met. I just hope he doesn't ask me to go trail driving with him again this year. He almost killed us both with that death trap Jeep!"
Emma sighed. "Calm down, dear. We're almost there and I know Uncle Howard will be delighted to see you again."
***
"Hi'ya, fat boy. See you packed some more lard on that over*loaded frame of yours. You gonna be a Sumo wrestler or something?"
Carl's eyes narrowed. "Glad to see you again, Uncle Howard. You look great."
"What are you, a doctor? I don't need a medical opinion from someone with the bad taste to drive a Chevy. Like I say, Chevro*let is a French name, which means it's a French car. I drive a Jeep, a real American car."
"The Whale is a GMC, not a Chevy, and it's made in America."
"GMC, Chevy, same thing. You can carve a soup bowl out of a cow pie, but it's still a cow pie underneath. Figured you'd have better taste, but noooooo, you got one a those flashy looking trucks that won't go anywhere. My Jeep might not be pretty, but it'll go places that Walrus of yours won't."
"Whale. Not Walrus. Whale."
"Yep, you sure do look like a whale, Carl. We ought to put up a fence around you and charge admission. Call it Blubber Land. you can be Shamu the Chevy driver. Hee, hee."
Carl's face got very, very red, but Emma poked him in the ribs and he just gritted his teeth.
"Feel like making a little bet on that, Uncle Howard?"
"Oh, you got money to bet? Figured by the size of that beer gut that you spent all your spare money on Cheetos and a bucket of lard to dip 'em in. Well, if you want to part with a few green ones, who am I to deny the mentally bewildered of the opportunity to lose their shorts? Twenny bucks, bozo?"
"Make it forty, Uncle Howard!"
"Pretty feisty for the Pillsbury Doughboy, ain't ya? Why don't you go all the way and plank down a C-note. A hundred dollar bill, triple chins."
"You got a bet! See, I got me a 454 under the hood and 22 of the best shocks money can buy. And that 454 ain't stock, not by a long shot!"
"Modified, huh? Did I ever tell you how to really get perfor*mance out of a 454 motor? It's all in the spark plug, ya know."
Carl bit. "Spark plug? Howzat?"
"Easy. Just take out the stock spark plugs, get yourself a set of Champion N2C plugs and screw a Jeep in 'em. Haw, haw! Boy, you went for that like a carp after a worm, chubby."
The hair on the back of Carl's neck stood up and a large vein started throbbing in both temples. "Okay, Uncle Howard ... let's go for it. Howsa 'bout a nice little 50-mile loop, anywhere you want to drive off-road, and I'll follow you like I was tied to you by a rope."
"Make it 40 miles, lumpy. I'm an old man. The doc says I gotta sorta watch it." Uncle Howard then fired up a large green cigar the size of a four cell flashlight. "Every two hours I sorta take enough pills to choke a rhino just to keep my heart from explod*ing like wet toilet paper."

An hour later, after Uncle Howard had eaten six pork chops and soaked up the drippings in a loaf of pumpernickel bread, then inhaled that, too, they headed out of town, with the crusty old Jeep leading the way.
Emma decided to stay home and knit doilies for Aunt Millie to put under the ceramic doily on top of the TV set. She wanted no part of a trail driving bet between Carl and Uncle Howard.
***
Uncle Howard stopped at the old stone quarry and got out of the Jeep. Carl joined him, eager to do battle.
"Okee-dokee, bubble butt, here's the rules. I'll take off down that gravel road and end up back here. Now, I'll keep my speed down so's you don't get behind and get lost. When I get to a tough section, I'll wait for you to screw it up, then I'll come back and get you and collect my hundred smackers. If, by some weird chance, you can follow me all the way back here without me having to get your saggy cheeks out a trouble, then you win. Got it, porky?"
Carl folded his arms over his chest, looked at the skinny-tired Jeep, then glanced at The Whale. It looked good, sporting some serious 40-inch Gumbo Mudders, with lots of ground clearance. In fact, The Whale looked impressive enough to drive right over Uncle Howard's Jeep, like those car crushing monster trucks. The image stuck in Carl's mind and he beamed and smiled.
"What are you smiling about, pudgy? Let's hit the trails!"
***
Three hours later, Uncle Howard walked into the house, counting a small handful of money, and licking his chops. Behind him was Carl, looking more than a little dejected.
Emma looked up from crocheting a snowflake the size of a pizza. "Well, did you boys have a nice drive in the woods?"
Uncle Howard reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table and knocked back a hearty slug. "I did, but I'm not so sure that fatso here did. This here is his hundred smackers that is now mine. But I'm not one to rub it in. Let the loser tell you the sad story. Yuk, yuk."
Carl slumped in a chair. "He took me through the narrowest trail I ever saw in my life. A dirt bike would have had trouble getting between some of those trees, but that skinny little Jeep just fit in there ... barely. I took half the paint off the side of The Whale trying, but ... "
"Yup, like I said, chubby, I knew you was doomed the second I saw that big dumb Chevy you was driving. You wanna drive in the real woods, you get a jeep. Now, if you all will excuse me. I gotta take some pills to keep me alive. After all, I'm an old man. An old man who's a hundred bucks richer than he was a few hours ago. Hey, cheer up, fat boy. If I got any of this left when I die, I'll leave it to you in my will. Hee, hee!"
Emma heard a thumping sound and looked out of the window. Carl was busy putting dents in the left front fender of The Whale with his head. Emma sighed and returned to her crocheting.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
[FONT=&quot]The first part was successful. Drive 160 miles to pick up one tire. [/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]piece of cake, on to the next task... oh wait, why do I smell sewer?[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The water table as been rising and at this point the drain field is now trying to become my shop.... so I went out and dug a drainage ditch, by hand, in poo. Never, ever use a pick with your mouth open....[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]finished up the rear... [/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]onto what should be the easy part... the front. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]the rotors were shot but 35 bucks and new is ready to install[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]which requires taking the hub off.... honestly, this is a first time it rusted enough that aluminum turned to rust.... but I'm sure the races are pristine[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]hmmm, unless someone has developed a new, coating process for bearings the answer to the above hope would be "oh hell no"[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]that's interesting, the pads aren't wearing evenly.... [/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]so new bearings and calipers will come tomorrow.... and I'm still spending money on a 10 bolt... I honestly don't know which was worse, poo channels or throwing money at a 10 bolt front diff....[/FONT]
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
and today's title is "how to milk a job" brake job and a lift - maybe 12 hours total.... I think I'm at hour 20 and I'm still not done

so we pick up today's saga at the "bought more new parts"
on the left we see the old race, on the right the new... darker is not better... I'm glad I caught all this now


I love my beat table outside... races out


clean everything up


Under Buick's watchful eye


greased


Oh mother... hub on the left is okay, the right... what happened to the copper bushing? Time to buy new hubs.... and yet another delay


brake lines are in, brakes are bled


really?!!!

clearanced

stickers installed


and I still have to finish the shocks on the other side.... then put the tires and wheels back on.... then maybe test drive it (well, I suppose I should put a seat back in to do this).... then continue my wiring fixes. At least now it's 4" further from the earth, much better.... maybe in a couple weeks I can get with the overland modifications - though if there's nothing I've learned better and through bitter experience; it really doesn't pay to have the best equipped rig if it ain't reliable.
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
[FONT=&quot]This is a glow plug controller[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]unless it's supposed to blow copper bits through the interior of the controller - it is being replaced. I bought the 'better' DX1005 - I've no idea if it's better or not, the broken one is a replacement - AC delco, so I guess I'll see[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]This is what is now controller glow plugs[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]and I forgot to get a switch today..... ah well, some days I get lots done, others... not so much[/FONT]
 

SuperBuickGuy

Well-Known Member
Messages
3,403
Location
Woodinville, WA
THE WANDERERS #8
[h=1][/h][h=1]SHINE ON HARVEST MOON – PT 1[/h]By Rick Sieman


When we last left Carl and Emma, they had just spent a consid*erable amount of time with cranky old Uncle Howard in Ohio. Even though Carl had lost a trail-driving bet with Uncle Howard, he managed to gain a dog; specifically, he found a mangy mutt, named him Ace the Wonder Dog, and made him a permanent part of their traveling road (and off road) show.
***
We join them now, as The Whale heads south on Interstate 77. Route 77 wanders through Canton, Marietta and farther south into West Virginia via Charleston.
The Whale lumbered through Beckley and eventually into Blue*field at the base of the Great Smoky Mountains. The massive mountain range loomed through a slight mist, majestic enough in its own right to stand up to anything Europe had to offer.

Carl looked up ahead, as the beautiful highway climbed up and up and up. Emma sighed. "Isn't it beautiful, Carl? Sort of takes your breath away!"
"Yup. Prettier 'n a gutted deer on the hood of a pickup truck."
Emma shuddered. "Carl, you certainly do have a way with words."
"Yeh, I do, don't I? Anyways, why don't you whip out that East Coast map and see how far it is to East Carolina?"
"You mean North Carolina, don't you!"
"That's what I said. You got wax in your ears, woman?"
Emma sighed again. "Well, we have to cross the mountains, then the first big city in North Carolina is Winston-Salem. Carl, would you mind telling me just exactly where we're heading? Or am I supposed to guess?"
"Here's the deal. North Carolina is tobacco country and one of the guys at that Boron gas station back in Ohio was telling me that you could get tobacco products down there real cheap. So I figure I could save a bundle and stock up on some chew. My favor*ite brand of chewing tobacco is actually made at a plant some*where south of Fayetteville. Yes sir, Mule Butt Chewing Tobacco is grown, harvested and processed in a little town by the name of Harvest Moon. Boy, talking about chewing tobacco is making my mouth water. Think I'll treat myself to a plug."

Emma started to say something, but thought better of it and instead grabbed a copy of People Magazine and started to read an article about Cher running off with the entire backfield of the Green Bay Packers. After all, Carl did stop smoking those horri*ble green cigars. Still, that habit of his of spitting out the ...
Splat! Carl ejected a wad of juice out of the window of The Whale with deadly accuracy and blasted a roadside sign dead center. Yet another mist of tobacco juice wafted back to stain the driver's side of The Whale. A constant smile creased Carl's face and he turned to Emma: "Hey, honey pot, here we are in the Rockies, the home of Blue Grass music. See if you can get some of it on the radio."
"You mean Smokies, dear."
"Yeh, that's what I said."

Emma fiddled with the dials of the impressive sound system, not really sure of what she was doing. In the back of her brain, she had this small fear of hitting the wrong button and getting ejected through the - roof like one of those fighter pilots.
Eventually she stumbled on a control that changed the sta*tions:

"... and that was Fester Dank and the Frog Mountain Boys playin' "I Met Her Under The Haystack And Got Stuck On The Pitchfork Of Love: Next, we'll hear from White Lightning Willy and the Stump Jumpers after this message from the Lumberton Chicken Farm down near ... "

…Dial, dial, dial. . .
" ... so you figure 41 bushels an acre without Wonder-Gro and at least double that with ... "

…Dial, dial, dial . . .
" ... songs for truckers only. So send $19.95 for your 50 greatest hits, including White Line Fever, Doomsday Hill, Outta Control and Haulin' Gas, and everyone's favorite, Don't Pass Me On The Right, 'Cause I Left My Heart For You. Remember, that's $19.95, plus $3.50 for shipping and han ... "

…Dial, dial, dial. . .
" ... We'll be here for the next four hours, just a pickin' and grinnin'; so stay tuned to the happy spot on your dial. We're gonna kick it off with Dueling Jugs, by The Newton Grove Corn Squeezers. . "

"Yup, that's it Emma. Leave it right there."
The sound of banjos being plucked filled the cab of The Whale and Carl slapped the dash and jiggled his head from side to side like a demented chicken. Emma sighed for the 200th time that day and tried to concentrate on her magazine article.
Ace the Wonder Dog slept soundly, with his tail moving in time to the music and a pool of drool formed under his jaws as he dreamed about chasing and catching fat juicy rabbits.

***

About four hours later, they crossed the magnificent Smokies and descended into the heart of North Carolina. Emma fumbled with the map and gave Carl directions. They peeled off of Highway 1 near Southern Pines and headed east toward Harvest Moon.

The two-lane blacktop road soon deteriorated into a hard packed dirt road, which got worse and worse the further they went. Ruts and bumps appeared, then rocks. Small ones at first, then slabs of granite. Carl drove carefully, driving around the worst rocks and ruts and letting the suspension suck up the small bumps and obstacles. The satellite dish on the roof of The Whale swayed gently, as did the boat and the two trail bikes hung on the bumper racks.

A moment later, a deer darted in front of The Whale and Carl yanked violently at the wheel, missing the deer by inches. The Whale careened off the side of the dirt road and the stomach wrenching sound of abused metal ripped through the cab, and tree branches flew all over place!
Emma clutched her chest and yiped. "Oh, Carl! I'm so proud of you. You made a heroic effort to miss that cute little deer and you saved its life. I could just hug you!"
"Hey, save your hugs for New Years Eve when they're playing some hot Guy Lombardo music. I woulda blasted Bambi there head on with a full throttle, but if you'll recall, I got a brand new winch on the front and I don't need to get the cable all gunked up with deer guts. As far as I'm concerned. Bambi got off real cheap. Tell you what though, if The Whale is hurt real bad, I'm gonna get one of my rifles off the roof rack and hunt that pointy headed hunk of venison and make a stew out of him."

Carl wheezed and grunted as he got out of the giant Suburban to inspect the damage. Emma heard a stream of curse words come out of Carl's mouth that would have curdled milk on a cold day. Apparently not all was well with The Whale.
Carl yanked the driver's side door open and snarled. "Well, Bambi put us in a fine fix. We got a hole in the radiator from a tree branch big enough to hide a ham sandwich. Hope I can find a place that's got some torches. I can braze that sucker shut."
Emma sighed yet another time. "But Carl, we're out here on a dirt road in the woods of North Carolina. I haven't seen a house for a half hour ... oh, Carl, I'm worried!"
"Hey, honey pot, don't you worry none. Old Carl has been in tougher situations than this and still come out smilin'. Got it?"
Emma emitted a weak smile, and nodded.

Carl got out and climbed the ladder on the back of The Whale to the roof. He peered around like a very fat Indian scanning the horizon, and finally found what he was looking for. "There's smoke, Emma. No more than a mile or two away. And where there's smoke, there's people. I figure we got enough spare water with us to keep fillin' the radiator without overheating and get us there. Looks like it'll be straight cross-country, but I think The Whale is more than capable."
Carl filled the radiator with water and grumbled as he watched the water pour out, then fired up The Whale and headed off through the deep woods.

Twenty minutes and three re-filling stops later, Carl broke into a clearing and breathed a sigh of relief. There were three buildings, a half dozen trucks and all sorts of equipment around. A long tall fellow with a straggly beard ambled over and leaned on the drivers side door.

"You folks lost?"
"Nope. We got a hole in the radiator and saw your smoke. I was hopin' you might have a set of torches handy so I can fix it up. I'm sure willing to pay a few bucks."
The tall man scratched his beard. "Well, Luke has the truck with the portable welders on it, and he's, aahh, out in the field makin' some repairs right now. Why don't y'all join us for a bite and some hospitality while we're waitin' fer Luke?"
"Hey, great! This here's my wife, Emma, and my name is Carl."
"Hidee. My name is Stanhope. C'mon and sit."
"Great! Nice spread you got here, Stanley."
"Stanhope."
"That's what I said."
"Okey-dokey. You folks care for somethin' to sip on?"
Emma smiled. "Yes, a cold soft drink would be nice."
 
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