Cam specs for new engine. Please note the largeness of everything.

Fix the engine, bend the axles.

The saga continues with the Monaro's woes.

I made a booking to get the steering aligned when I noticed a rhythmic rubbing sound. Pulled off the wheels and ran the car on stands to check it out. Yes, I know that very dangerous. I analyse problems Dodgey Brothers style.

Both brake rotors had a fair bit of run out. Enough to be moving the calipers each revolution. I strip the calipers and see that they are well past their use by date and get them refurbished. The axles go to my long suffering engine builder for straightening. New rotors are machined and modified for my stud pattern and rare studs.

After much frustration sourcing parts that aren't manufactured or readily available any more, I have the old bitch back together and took her for a spin yesterday. I forgive her the cuts and bruises, the expense and excessively complicated starting ritual every time I drive her. I haven't even thrashed that motor yet and it still scares me.

Re-booked the wheel alignment. Maybe she won't be so keen to kill me if the front end drives straight under acceleration.

Like it? See - Sex sells

On the road again

Some of you are pretty familiar with the big, black, Monaro money pit that has provided so much filler material for our Christmas letters. I have achieved another milestone with her and I thought you’d all love to get an update. At the moment I almost think it’s all been worth it again, even though the entire experience has played merry hell with my state of mind.

A lot of time has passed since the beginning of the Monaro restoration project. 6 years 7 months and 20 days worth to be precise. When I look back through the receipts and remember the rip offs, the failed parts, the injuries and pain I wonder, what the hell was I thinking?

Being told ‘it can’t be done’ has been a major incentive to continue dragging this old bitch back into life. Some said she’d have been better off left quietly rusting away in the field she was found in. Many repairers tried to warn me off her charms but, young and confident, I wouldn’t be told.

The first hurdle was NSW’s Roads and Traffic Authority. They weren’t too keen on giving me rego plates. The car had no compliance plates, no record of previous registration, and major modifications. In the end, I not only managed to get NSW plates on her, but she was motivated by 500+ horsepower as well. (That was the engine I blew up on our way from Orange to Sarina).

Then I had to deal with Qld laws and requirements. (They are completely different of course.) They shook their heads and said it can’t be done here too. For three and a half years I did my research and bought the parts to make it compliant and fitted a detuned version of the first motor. I’m here to tell you that a 400 rear wheel horsepower Monaro is sitting in the carport with Qld plates on it. Can’t wait to fill it with fuel for the first time at $1.80 a litre.

This massive effort has drained any urge for future restorations. The wife must be breathing a sigh of relief. It has, however, taught me many things that maybe could have stayed undiscovered. I know exactly how angry I can get without screaming (and beyond). I know one in ten bolts will strip. I know the one that strips will be in the most awkward position and will always be a special bolt not available anymore.

I wanted to finish what I started though, and the lack of knowledge, tools, and workshop space only made me more determined not to fail. Failing would give all those I-told-you-so insufferable pricks the ammunition they’d need to remind me forever after that they were right. I couldn’t allow that.

It’s hard to justify the highs with the lows though. The highs were great. There’s the two rego achievements motioned above where I got to drive around giving my detractors the finger. The first drive and burnout with a 500 HP motor. The first drive and burnout with a 400 HP motor. The Monaro’s at Bathurst weekend with 400 Monaro’s from around Australia. The first 100 metre long burnout with sun hardened tyres on the way to get new ones fitted. You get the picture.

The Monaro now waits patiently to be taken out on the odd occasion and treated in a manner befitting her general attitude. It’s a nasty attitude; she likes to hurt me. She’s spent long enough languishing in the carport, providing a home to spiders and ants and depressing me every time I looked at it. For now she’s finished with being shipped off to various repairers, gutted and molested, and fitted with Ford parts (diff).

That is until I build up the courage to get her painted. Then it all starts again.

I must take this opportunity to defend myself against something I heard a lot of during the build. To the arrogant ‘if only he’d put his talent/money/time to some other use’ people.

Like what?

Talent? I’ve learned plenty of useful skills and techniques while working on that heap of crap.

Money? I wouldn’t have that money anyway. I only worked two jobs a day and did 31 hours straight every weekend for 6 months to pay for the first motor. (I have an aversion to loaning money from banks.) I stayed with companies far too long and took far more shit from bosses and co-workers than I would have normally because I wanted to finish the second motor. That money was earned for a purpose and its purpose has been achieved. There will be no ‘if only’ breast beating from me.

Time? Well, I could have gotten pretty good at my Playstation games if I hadn’t been lying under the car on freezing concrete, ramming my head into sharp protrusions and smashing my knuckles while rounding off bolts. Fair call on that one.

I might as well remind the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s while I’m feeling so high and mighty. Your arguments don't wash around here, there’s no excuse other than laziness not to achieve at least one of your goals. It might not be much compensation for what you have gone through, but you get to stick it up everyone else who can’t be bothered.

Regardless of past dramas, I’m going to feel good about myself, even if it’s for the briefest time. I persevered and I won.

(Like it? See - Flying)

Wanna buy a Monaro? - Cheap

The Monaro failed rego but I didn’t have the wade through the usual three pages of defects this time. The defects picked up have taken several days to fix though. A bit of rust had broken through around the wheel arches and bottom of the doors. Fairly straight forward cosmetic work, it just takes a while to do it properly. Shocking stuff I know but I occasionally I do try to make things better, not worse. The last few days have been sanding, rust proofing, bogging, painting, sanding, painting, sanding, etc.

Then there's the front left indicator. Didn’t wanna go. I knew we had it working the day before so I figured it’s just a dicky earth. I took the whole assembly out to clean it up a bit. See. Doing it properly.

Well I got it out and tested the wiring and now NONE of the indicators work. Oh, this is just fucked. I have so little knowledge of electrickry that I’m a freaking hazard but I started tracking the wiring back to the harness and ended up with about ten web pages open on the computer and Max Ellery's useless manual and then opened the PDF’s I’d scanned from workshop manuals. None of them helped.

I resort to sticking my big dumb fat head under the dash, (very uncomfortable), and I’m plucking at the wiring and the fuse box with no idea what the hell I’m doing and I spy a little round box full of copper wiring. I fiddle with it and it starts ticking like bomb might. I made a guess that it wasn't a bomb and could very well have something to do with the indicators. Sure enough they were working again. Then everything crapped out again. No amount of increasingly hard taps on the round ticking thing made any difference.

Instead of getting a hammer I searched the computer to find out what the fucking round thing was called and found out it’s a flasher can. Picked one up for $16 IN SARINA and replaced it. There’s different stuff inside the new one. My old stone-age one has been superseded by microchips.

Praise Jesus the bastard fit and didn’t mess me around like I thought it would. The indicators were all going but I couldn’t help noticing the globe was seized in the holder. I should fix that, I thought, before putting it back in. What a stupid idea. Smashed the globe and gouged into the holder to dig the base out then decided to abort the mission and use one I’d ripped off a HG a few years ago. Unfortunately that one is in worse condition on the outside but the spring loaded bulb holder was perfect. Spent around an hour changing every tiny bastard piece over then refit the globe and tested it. Not working again. Son of a bitch. Pushed all the connections together in total frustration and... it worked! Good enough, it’s getting close to beer o’clock so I don't care what the fault was.

Shoved everything back together and went and got the WHEELBARROW to load up all the crap I’d ended up bringing down to the carport to fix one lousy freaking globe.

I hope someone buys this pile of junk before I burn it. If you need help with your Chev wiring James, I’m busy that day. After reading this you probably would rather I stayed the hell away anyway.

(Like it? See - On the road again)

Bloody Monaro

I’m lucky to have relatives who are willing to help me track down parts for the never-ending, ongoing saga of the Monaro build. Let me explain just how time consuming the whole process can be by describing the fitment of a very minor, essential part.

I had an auto sparky work on the car recently and he found one of the tail lights wasn’t working properly, (amongst a thousand other weird things the wiring was doing but we’re not interested in that here).

A clip on the globe holder had rusted away leaving a poor connection when the brakes were applied. Simple enough problem. OK, I’ll just get a new one. No way. No bastard makes them or sells old ones that I could find. (I’ll probably be bombarded with places that stock them now).

Since we were going to Kingaroy for a party (nice one Leanne), we recruited our reliable parts procurer (Errol) to find us a few spare parts from the wrecks we’ve taken parts off recently. He kindly strips a set of wiring and globe holders for the rear lights out of a HK he’s got. Luckily he avoided the snakes and spiders while he worked on the car in the dark or I’d never hear the end of it. All for a lousy tiny part I couldn’t do without. Much appreciated.

I bore my trophy home, confident I had the right part until I compared it to the globe holder I needed to replace. Different. Bloody son of bitch. Unwilling to be thwarted I ripped the holder apart and tried to work out how to make an offset pin globe work in a parallel pin holder. OK it’s not rocket science but I tend to break shit about now so I went at it nice and slow. I filed down the ledge that captures the pin very carefully. Goody it fits. Then I had to pull the entire rear light assemble out of the Monaro to work out how the bastard went back in. (Can’t see shit behind the panel in the boot.) The joy of one man testing the lights won’t be discussed. Finding most of the nuts missing from the light assembly wasn’t surprising. I couldn’t bring myself to jam the assembly back in using a handful of silicone like the person who owned the crap heap before me so I spent another half an hour finding replacements nuts and fitting them.

All up a simple globe replacement took two weeks to finish, hours of discussions and caused the maximum amount of inconvenience to people who probably had better things to do.

No wonder working on cars has been proven to make otherwise normal people insane.

(Like it? See - Wanna buy a Monaro? - Cheap)

The write stuff

No wonder people who retire don't get bored. Not that I think I'm retired, but working from home always makes people think you're doing it pretty easy. I've had an exceptionally busy week getting things done that have been pushed back for one reason or another. I might not be making any money I feel like I've achieved something.

Speaking of money, I’ve brought in about $1000 on eBay. The listing and selling process for the 4 items probably took the best part of a day when added up. That’s a $1000 a day. Pity it’s the only day. I wonder if the wife will notice if I start selling some of her stuff.

The exhaust leak on the Monaro wasn't fixing itself so I pulled the extractors off AGAIN. Had to clean out the spiders in the carport first. They freak me out and I'm sure it was amusing for the neighbours to watch me murdering them. Last time I touched the Monaro was about 10 weeks ago. The recent heavy storms washed about a tonne of dirt into the carport too, so it needed a good clean out. The interior of the Monaro is starting to go mouldy. I'll give it a scorch in the sun tomorrow then clean it properly. At least the motor started. Eventually. After charging the battery and screwing around with the plugs.

I threw the exhaust manifold gaskets away choosing to use gasket compound alone this time against all advice. The Group A heads are D ported and the standard manifold gasket were obscuring the ports. Thankfully it didn’t leak when I tested my work.

The garden has gone spastic. Everything has loved the rain. Some plants have grown over 300mm in 10 days. Exaggeration? I think not. The heavy pruning I applied will not even be noticeable by next week at this rate. Mowing wasn’t very successful. The ground is still so wet the long grass stays damp and clogs the mower. Once again I'm left with those stupid looking wheel marks that spring back up after I'm finished and make a mockery of the whole exercise.

I’ve stripped and undercoated the new bonnet. Massive exercise. I really should get a mask. I don't get why people sniff paint for fun. Just gives me a headache. Rubbing back the undercoat will irritate the hell out of me but then it’s onwards to the final coat and the fabled dummy fitting of the scoop. Still haven't worked out how to mount it yet. Every day I get a little further on the old girl so I’m motivated to keep going. The only problem seems to be when that one small obstruction totally cancels out all my momentum. I am constantly working on this flaw to maintain progress.

Still working on a 'simple, short story' that I intended submitting a month ago. Instead of procrastinating, the problem with this story is too much attention. The damn thing could become a book with the level of detail that creeps in. It's a short story, dammit. It doesn't need every slightest nuance explained. I'll convince myself eventually.

(Like it? See -Manual labourer enters virtual world).

Painting panels

Boy, have I forgotten how much work is involved in stripping and painting vehicles.

The last time I attempted the art I was still a kid of 18 living a home with my poor, long suffering, parents. I bought an HQ Holden ute, with a completely knackered 308 V8 engine and worn out M20 gearbox. Many different people before me had tried to improve it cosmetically in the most superficial way possible. I decided, naively, to have a go repairing the defects myself.

I approached the problem head-on, deciding to start with a fresh canvas. The easiest option was to have the ute tray sand blasted. The sills, on both sides, disintegrated as the blasting media hit them. Wadded newspaper had been used to save the cost of bog by some dodgy bastard. The resulting mess looked really expensive. Having no welding skills, I rebogged the panels, increasing the ute's curb weight by about fifty kilos. Over the next year I poured massive amounts of money, time and effort into the project but the end result reflected the level of expertise involved.

Finally I sold it, Lost about $15,000 on the deal. The last panel beater I used told me the ute had terminal chassis rust and would never see the road again. Utterly discouraged, I took the pittance he offered and moved on.

About three mouths later I saw my ute driving past. With a few inquiries I discovered that my ever-so-helpful panel beater had slapped a bit more bog into it and sold it to his mate. Life can be a hard road when you're young and stupid.

None of this explains why I have just spent hundreds of dollars and two days of my time stripping and painting a bonnet 20 years later. It would seem the memory of my previous experience has faded sufficiently to have another go. The job still sucks. Paying a professional to do it would have worked out to be cheaper in the end but I just can’t help having a go myself. I hope the end result is worth the pain and suffering.

Everyone says 'Oh but the satisfaction of doing it yourself...’ etc. Personally I think the satisfaction of dropping it off and picking it up from a panel beater would be fine by me.

(Like it? See - Preventative list writing)