No, those are the emergency brake carrier plates. The backing plates can be seen in the pic with the rearend parts. Thank you kindly, sir.
Wait, are you performing brain surgery or working on an old car? Your garage is cleaner and more organized than my house.
No kidding. Good Lord man, I thought I was a picky pain in the ass to all around me, lol. Unreal. Keep it up!
That bachelor fella, about 19 or so's kid brother has a real tidy garage... Just kidding, you're doing a wonderful job and I'm enjoying your writing style. Mart.
LOL Naaaw, this old car stuff is waaaay more important than that! Thanks! BAAHAAAW! I'm sure you are a picky PIA! LOL, I know I can be. That's why I said earlier that I like to say I am "particular"... but my friends always call it something else! Thank you sir!
All kidding aside it's a great read, so well written, like you I've read dozens of similar threads on here as well as other forums but none held my interest quite like yours. My only sadness is not being there, or you being here to witness the fun, maybe I could get Big-T to ride out with me to be your parts cleaner bitches.
What a fantastic and entertaining read. I can literally envision much of the activity and trials you have described thanks to your detailed explanations and humor. The photos are fantastic as well. Great job and great thread my friend. I look forward to more! Like JB said, I wish we could have been there for some of it. BT
HA HA! Thanks guys! You know yer always welcome in Texas! The help in the shop would be great... if for nothing else, to make the beer disappear while I do all the work!
With the rearend out from under the 29, I decided the best time to clean up the underside, would be the present. The surface rust that had taken hold was in no way a threat to anything structural, so I decide on wire brushing and using a rust convertor called The Right Stuff. I bought it years ago at Napa, and I don’t think it’s even sold anymore, but maaan it works pretty damn good! Isn’t that how it always goes? If it works, it ain’t gonna be around for long. The fumes tho… OOOF, those’ll take yer breath away! I laid down a bunch of cardboard on the floor and rolled under it on the creeper… Armed with about every size and shape wire brush you can imagine. I had big and small handheld brushes, a drill with several different sized round, smallish brush wheels, a small grinder with bigger brush wheels and my big grinder with some serious cup brushes. I meant business! And hey, with all those tools of abrasion at my finger tips… How long could it possibly take?... Right! I laid there on my back for over five hours, doing my best to make my arms and shoulders look like I was shooting for the next Mr. Olympia title. The constant shower of fine rust particles & dust that blanketed my body reminded me just how very much I enjoyed the taste of it. That, combined with tiny little daggers of liberated wire wheel strands that punctured my clothes and imbedded themselves in my skin, was so enjoyable... I just didn’t want to stop. Yeah, right! It truly turned into one of “those things”. About half way thru, when I was VERY ready to be done with it… The voice: Ya know… if you go just a little bit longer, it’ll look that much better. Me: This sucks and no one is every gonna see it The voice: But YOU’LL know it's done Me: Ugh! My shoulders are KILLIN me!!! The voice: Quit bein a pussy! You know you’ll never get under here to do it again! YUMMY! The taste of old paint, rust, dirt dobber nests and whatever the hell else had affixed itself to the underside of that car over the last eight and a half decades, had pervaded my nostrils hours before and there was no way of getting around the knowledge that I’d be filling Kleenexes with some nasty looking crap for days. Once I finally decided it was as clean as I was gonna make it, I was ready for the next step. I found that a spray bottle top screwed perfectly onto the Right Stuff bottle, and when set to “mist”, it did a great job of getting in all the tight spots due to its water-like consistency. After it was thoroughly applied, a few cheapo paintbrushes did a first rate job of spreading it all out. But, I could only do about a dozen squirts while holding my breath, because that smell was more potent than ammonia! You ever get a good, strong sniff of ammonia? It’ll about brings tears to yer eyes just thinking about it! This stuff… ooooh buddy!!! It’s difficult to breathe once you pull that trigger for it to spray out! But, it works like a charm. When I was satisfied that I had done all I could (or cared) to do, I cleaned up the mess and trudged into the house. With the robust potpourri of rust, dirt and Right Stuff clogging my sinuses, a myriad of aching muscles and nothing but a stiff drink & a hot shower on my mind, I shut off the shop lights and closed the door. I let the Right Stuff do its thing for a few days… somewhat because I wanted it to be completely dry and work its magic… but also because I wanted to give my arms, shoulders and neck a bit of a rest. When I finally decided to get off my butt and make something happen, I rolled under the 29 and was pleasantly greeted with some very nicely prepped metal. As per the Right Stuff instructions, I grabbed a few rags to wipe it all down and then proceeded to shoot some fresh black paint on every surface and crevice that I now knew so very intimately. Since I’m not planning on getting invited to any Pebble Beach shows with it, I think it oughta do just fine. To be cont…
Now that the underside was finally painted, it was time to get the rear rotating parts back in their houses. Bryan had previously assured me that he would be there to bestow some of his wisdom, as I wasn’t sure how to set the gears and such. I quick call to him and the next Saturday was agreed upon as the planned date for the assemblage. In the meantime, I arched the shoes to fit the drums and prepped all the parts and supplies to be ready when he got there. That Saturday morning arrived with a bright, warm wash of sunlight. I had been waiting for this day for quite some time… cuz I knew I’d finally get to see the Sport Coupe sitting down low with the stance I had planned for it, so many months before. I found that walking from the house, I had bit more of a spring in my step than I had on the previous dozen-or-so most recent trips to the shop. Today there wouldn’t be any dirt falling on my face, no particles of rust to permeate my pallet and no sanding or grinding dust to waft into my nose with the sole mission to clog me up. Nothing but fun and success lay before me today… hopefully. I clicked on the lights in the shop and got some good tunes kickin out of the old tower speakers mounted high on the walls. I specifically remember the first song that played was Speedo by the Cadillacs… always a great one, but that day… it set the mood perfectly! “They often call me Speedo, but my real name is Misteeeer Eeeeearl… mmmmm hhhmm mmmmm” (Did you just sing that in yer head? I hope so, cuz now it’s stuck in mine! LOL) I set down my mug filled with fine coffee goodness, onto my well-worn, wooden bench and headed to the garage doors. When I opened the east, rear door the lively sunlight bathed the opening and shown down on all of the big parts on the floor. You’ve seen the pics, so you know they were all protected from the concrete by a blanket and were patiently waiting for me to get on with the show. The way the sunlight highlighted those fresh & new looking parts, it reminded me of when Indiana Jones took the Staff of Ra into the map room to find the resting place for the Ark of the Covenant. Except these parts… that the sun was graciously warming up for me, were WAAAAAY more important and I didn’t have a bull whip latched to my belt. Everything else, was pretty much identical to the movie though. I gathered up the gaskets, grease, rags and enough other stuff that my arms were filled and headed back to the bench. On my short walk there, I thought about the ga-jillion old car parts that have spent time with that bench… how many times my blood and sweat have mingled with the wood grain... the countless times my drinks have sat in the exact same place on it… enough times to leave a permanent ring tattooed into the hard wood and that same place my mug sat right then with steam hovering above it. Good times! “Just remember Speedo… He don't never take it slow!” Not too long after that, I looked to my left and saw Bryan’s truck backing into my driveway. I greeted him, we exchanged pleasantries and discussed recent happenings. Shortly after, we both agreed we should get started. The rear end bits were the first puzzle pieces to be constructed. He showed me how to mark the gears and read the engagement. Armed with that info, he expounded on the importance of knowing how many paper shims to add to each side of the banjo center section. Unfortunately, between trying to retain the info he was suppling, and my fingertips repetitively covered with Permatex #2, I don’t have any pics of the banjo and bells marriage. We filled the backing plates with pretty parts next, making sure that lube got to all the right intersections. Followed with the torque tube and radius rods The emergency brake carrier plates came next And then the e-brake shoe assemblies. I showed both sides in case anyone ever needs to know which direction any of the linkages or springs needs to go. The speedo… Hey that sounds familiar! “Well, some may call me Joe…Some may call me Moe... Just remember Speedo”… The speedo housing was bolted to the torque tube and sealed up. Here’s a shot of the e-brake toggle lever and the spring placement. Again, both sides for reference Next, we’re gonna do the rear T spring and see if we can get it sittin on rubber again. To be cont…
Not only do you do top notch, fine work, you are one hell of a damn fine author! Your build looks great! Sent from my iPhone using The H.A.M.B. mobile app
The way you were writing that last update made me think there was some impending *record scratch* "reality sets in and the shit hit the fan" moment coming. Buuut I guess this is your story and not one of my own.
I absolutely appreciate that you guys are enjoying this! Thank you for taking the time to read through it!
Ha Ha! Thank you! I figure I should probably do somethin to keep you fellas interested enough to find out what might happen next!
In an earlier post, we already went over which Model T rear springs can be used to lower an A… and plenty of guys have their ideas as to which leaves to remove and how many of them to get the “perfect drop”. I just went with a couple of leaves removed off the top and a couple of alternating leaves after that. No science to it or anything, just what seemed to make sense to me at the time. After paint, lube & reassembly, I ended up with five T leaves total. The next problem to address was the difference of widths between the A and T springs. As many of you know, the stock A spring is 2 ¼” wide and the T spring is a bit shy of that at 2”. There are several ways to take care of this conundrum… I decided to use what I had laying around. Ah yes, hot rodders… the recycling-est of the car bunch! Hmmm… that almost makes me feel like we're “goin green”. Screw you Prius owners!!! Anyway.. the two shortest A leaves would be perfect for making sure that spring didn’t wanna be floppin around in the crossmember, whilst the 29 was getting me where I wanted to go. I snagged the two shortest A leaves and headed to the spring pack. My plan was to put the shortest one on top of the pack and the next shortest one on the bottom of it. I marked the one that needed some cuttin, taking into account that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea if it interfered with the mainspring leaf, as it was doing it’s best to not let me bounce on down the road. I felt it was now a good time to introduce the leaf, to one of my favorite tools… My 4” angle grinder that I fondly refer to as, the Wheel of Death. (Now read that last line again, but put an echo on the last word) HA HA! All my garage buddies know exactly what that means when I, or anyone else speaks those words. I love the Wheel of Death, and also… have GRRRRREAT respect for it. We have accomplished a damn fine amount of spark flying since we've been together… possibly because I stupidly keep a 6” cutoff wheel in at all times. It’s definitely scared me enough to know that I’m always within an inch of life every time I pull that trigger, but it makes me feel ALIIIIIVE! I'm pretty sure we have an understanding between us... I use it correctly (most of the time), and it doesn’t threaten to bite me (at least, it's extremely rare when it has to remind me). With the Wheel of Death and my welder, I can make a serious mess out of just about anything! The intro went smashingly well, and the leaf was quickly about a third of what it had previously been. I painted both of the A leaves in flat black, so it’d be easier to see them in my pics. The length of the lower leaf, in my way of thinkin, should have the longest length possible, to maximize the centering of it in the crossmember. Hopefully, that’ll keep any rockin fore and aft, to a minimum. In the pics you can see what I’m talking about. To use the stock shackles, I inserted 1/8” thick washers on each side of the spring, to keep the slop in check. Also, you can see the shortened dog bones for the stock shocks. So here we are at the point when a musical, fast-forward montage would again take place, if we were on a TV show. Bryan and myself would be running around the car, I would be up and down off the creeper about 42 dozen times, rolling all around the shop floor, the rearend would be slid in place, more running around and finally the Sport Coupe would be lowered down, with its new shoes mounted on. Bryan and I would very quickly shake hands and walk briskly out of the shot. Here’s what we accomplished that day. Unfortunately, all the pretty stuff is underneath… but I’m stoked about the altitude adjustment!!! The next day, I had to get it outside, so I could get a good look at the profile and see how it sat… multi-colored wheels, dust and all! The Firestone Deluxe Champions measure in at 4.50/4.75-16 front and 7.50-16 rear. The voice: Man, you gotta do something about those wheels. Yuck! Me: I know, I know To be cont…
The Jalopy Journal
