Roadside repairs,,,everybodys got a story

After having read the "What tools do you keep in the car?" post,,,,it reminded me of several roadside repairs over the years of traveling in hot rods,,,,,,

In 2001, Mrs. HRP and myself were on our way back home from a show in Lexington,South Carolina,,,enjoying the back roads of the state and the flathead was running great and we were discussing what a great day it has been,,,,,,,we even won a nice plaque and a cool Ford hat!

And then it happened,,,the car just died,,,,,no sweet flathead music no nothing,,,well, there was a cow next to the fence on the p***anger side of the car,,,,only comment,,,you guess it,, "MOO".

What the Hell am I gonna do now,,,,,great day just went to HELL in a handbasket!

And ol' hardhead me don't even have a screwdriver in the car....in the middle of nowhere and its getting late in the day,,,,,I got maybe 2 hours to fix the problem and drive another 60 miles before darkness sets in.

As I exited my shiny but dead 32 mordor wondering what my options were and knowing the battery is under the car and it's to low to get it out without a jack,,,a beat to hell 78 chevy truck pulls over on the other side of the road and the young guy ask,,,

"DO YA NEED ANY HELP"?

Well,,,Yeah,,,but unless you got a few tools and a jack there ain't much you can do,,except give me a lift to the closest town to get a roll back,,,,

Here's where the Earl Hickie karma thing starts,,,,,,

His reply was,,,,"no problem,,,I got a big set of tools in the back of the truck,,,I have a floor jack and jack stands,,,,I just finished changing the engine in this here truck",,,,,,,

We got the mordor jacked up and I removed the battery and about that time a friend of mine arrived on the scene that had been at the same show and offered to take me to the next town for a new battery and bring me back,,,,

The stranger in the truck needed to get home so we used a couple of wooden 4x4's that were in the back of the truck and put them under the front wheels of the 32,,,,I could ease off them when it was repaired,,,,

I offered to pay him for his trouble and all he wanted was a picture of him and his girlfriend next to the car,,,,several photo's were taken and we hopped in my pals roadster and hit the road,,,,long story short,,,the battery was replaced and we almost got up our driveway before it died again,,,,,,,,having driven the last 10 or so miles in the dark with no lights,,,,but we did get home..

Ok,,,I know there has to be a few hundred more roadside repair storys or it went home on a hook tales,,,,lets hear em! HRP

 

The only serious one I had was a breakdown on the Penn. Turnpike on the way to Macungie. I was getting a vibration in the car and thought it was the rear end going bad. It turned out to be a wheel bearing. I was lucky to be traveling with a buddy and we pulled the cars off into a small town and used a parking lot. I had the tools, and we pulled the axle out and he drove all over hell to find a bearing and someone with a press to put the new on on. Put the axle back in and was fine and had a great weekend. So far that's the only one other than the normal breakdowns five miles from home when I'm trying to get things sorted out.

 

I was on my way back from the Louisville Nats in my flathead powered 37. On the last leg, it was getting dark and I stopped for gas about 50 miles from home.
Filled it up and went to start it. Deader than a doorknob (where'd that saying come from anyway.?)
After a push start, The meter indicated the generator took a ****.
Realizing the dead battery wouldn't get me home, We took one of the battery quiclk jump setups and threw it in the back and ran a jumper cable through the window out to the battery under the hood.
I ran 50 miles all the way home just with that small battery by keeping my lights off all the way and running close between two other cars that were with us.
At those times. its gets alittle stressful.. but later you realize it usually ends up being the most fun you have on those trips.

 

My best one was in my 29AA. Was duck/goose hunting when it was lightly raining, weather turned and got colder and started snowing. At the time, I was running a 283 chevy with ram lynz open top filter. Stock hood. Water had got into carb and froze. Ended up needing to leave the trk. at lake shore and catch a ride with another hunter.
Next am went back out to the blind, sun came out hit mid 30's and about 11am tried starting the truck. After some spit and gruggle she fired up, ran rough for a few then smothed out and I went back to the cabin.

These type things are why some of my friends say there are daily drivers and then there is a Earl's driver.

Latter

Earl

 

I was coming home from a car show on Memorial Day one year in my 55 Safari and it had just started to rain lightly.I had only vacuum wipers(read NO wipers)at the time and no Rain-X so I started to slow down a bit and the car dies.
I roll to a stop right next to one of the gates to Michigan I nternational Speedway.I try turning it over and it does fine but doesn't want to fire.
The only tools I have with me are a Swiss Army Knife as I had been working on the car the previous night and left my tool kit that I normally carry in the car in the shop.
I had recently had some problems with contaminated fuel and had not as yet removed the tank(a REAL chore on the Safari)to have it cleaned.
There was an antique shop open just down the road a few hundred yards so I went there and asked to use the phone to call my wife to bring tools.
While I was waiting I decided to see how much of a h***le it was going to be to get at the fuel line.I lay down on the ground and looked up and to my amazement the line was in plain sight just above the axle .It also had a small section of neoprene hose on it attached by a Murray clamp.
Taking my knife and using the screwdriver blade I managed to get the clamp loose and the hose pulled off.Very little gas dribbled out and I knew I had a near-full tank so I figured the line must be partially blocked.
Looking around for something to clear it with,I found a McDonald's drinking straw in the glove box.The straw fit exactly into the hose and by careful manipulation I was able to blow into the straw with my mouth and free the obstruction.
I was hooking the line back up when my wife pulled in with the tools.I got in the car and after a few cranks it came to life again.Driving slowly following her,we drove the 15 or so miles back to the house.
Upon pulling the tank,I found that some genius who had the tank out before,instead of springing for a new gasket for the sending unit.had opted to seal it with "monkey snot" i.e.: black silicone.Having the tank purged by a local radiator shop and blowing out the main fuel line with high pressure air coupled with a new fuel filter cured the problem.
I NEVER drive anywhere anymore unless I have my tool kit with me;and a good supply of McDonald's drinking straws too!

 

Funniest one that happened to me was when I worked in Santa Barbara and lived in Ventura - 33 miles down the coast.

At the time I was running a 50 Ford coupe with triples on a very mild flathead.

The main throttle rod broke right after fire-up.
I went back into work and grabbed a length of sturdy white cotton string.
Tied that to the throttle linkage, ran it through a smooth hole in the firewall and drove home operating the throttle with the string.
Only scary moments were when my pal would yank the string when I wasn't looking.


Luckiest one was with the same 50 Ford coupe, now running a 324" Rocket Motor with triples.
The soft plug at the top of the lower radiator hose's inlet sprung a leak right after fire-up.
It was the first time we'd taken it to Santa Maria dragstrip after the engine swap.

I'd overlooked replacing the soft plug during the rebuild.

Little brother took my 57 Buick Roadmaster hardtop - a white beauty with pipes that was the towcar - and went into town to find a replacement.
Most places were closed, but he came back with a couple soft plugs close to what we measured.
Trouble was, one was too big and the other too small.

I got to looking at it and realized the small plug would drive into the leaking plug - if there was a ledge under the leaking plug that would keep it from falling inside.

It was worth a shot, popped the small plug into the leaking plug with no problems and filling the radiator showed no leaks.

We ran the car in C/Gas and picked up our first drag racing trophy which I still have....

 

Coming back from Daytona this last year, towing the modified behind the 48 Chevy coupe, as we get into Orlando City limits, a vibration started. The first thing I thought of was the roads that they had been chipping on and drove on.
After a couple of miles, my wife says " Are these roads that bad?" I had already been checking tires and wheels in the mirrors and saw nothing unusual.
I told her we would pull over after we got out of Orlando traffic. We did.
I found that the left rear tire on the 48 had a knot on it the size of a baseball. No problem, I have a donut I can run and get home on.
After tearing my trunk apart looking for the lug wrench, I realized I had left in the shop at the house as I had pulled all the wheels off the modified and had them balanced.
The only thing I had to get the lugs off with was a Craftsman 3/8" rachet and spark plug socket. It works, but I am glad the Craftsman is guaranteed for life as I ripped the guts out of it on the next to the last lug.
I will guarantee you that I will never leave the house without checking tools again.

 

I'm in a '56 Chevy 265 driving on a country road at 2:00 a.m. at least 40 miles from nowhere. Suddenly the engine shuts off. All I have with me is a screwdriver and a book of matches. I open the hood and remove the aircleaner. O.K....I have gas squirting from the accelerator pump. Must be electrical. I remove the distributor cap and, sure enough, with the help of one of the matches, I see the points are fried. I find an old used point set in the glove box. I removed the burnt set and cleaned up the used ones with the striker from the matchbook. Still lighting my way with matches I get that set back in the distributor. Then I gap them with the matchbook cover.....016" thick. Cap back on, turn the key and SHAZAM, it fires right up !

Good thing, too....I was down to my last match.

Other than an hours' time and 50 mosquito bites on my *** I'm rolling again !!

 

Wait 'til Jdubbya sees this thread....he's got quite the story!

 

******* Redneck nationals last year, decided friday morning to go to New Orleans (week before Katrina) We leave Hammond, drive 40 some odd miles, then it's over Lake Ponchatrain (for those of you that dont know, this is a 23 mile long bridge, there is a 7 mile (or so ) section, where you CANNOT see land). Cool drive in, breakfast, then hurricanes, topped off with lunch at Ricks Cabaret. On the drive back, everything is great...we are in sight of land,when the Truck dies, on the bridge.....this is not good. Close enough to coast, made it off the bridge & into a parking lot. Quick check, change the fuel pump, (thanks to one of the guys at the Quick lube place that had some extra terminals in his box) and back to Hammond. Thanked the lucky stars that the pump did not fail in the middle of the bridge

 

The shoebox business coupe I used to have liked scaring me. I had my son with me one day, cruising down I-40 to Ft Smith (to a Mustang show a friend was in), when it came time to exit, I hit the brakes and nothing happened..just all the way to the floor...luckily the parking brake functioned...kind of...going around the loop to get on I-540, I managed to get it slowed down enough so I could pull over and get on AR64 to the wal mart that used to be there. A guy that was in my Car club at the time was the service manager there, and let me use their tools....to fix the problem. A burst steel brake line going to the left rear wheel...I rolled up what was left and crimped it off, bled the rest, and went on my merry way. It was then I discovered I hated single line master cylinders.

Another time, my 56 pontiac still had the 4" lowering blocks in the back, oh yeah, she looked good...and I had learned to love the sound of the driveshaft hitting the tunnel...I never thought how I would get the tires off if ever I should have a flat.

I learned how.

I was doing 60 when the p***enger side rear tire blew, oh, I also learned what a scrub line is all about, because the ends of the u-bolts (yes, they were cut off so as not to stick out past the nuts that held them) hung just below the edge of the rim...they dug into the pavement.

It wouldnt have been so bad, I guess, except for the fact that I-40 was undergoing major reconstruction then, and it was in a one-lane zone (thats why I was only doin' 60), in traffic no less. I managed to find a spot where the dump trucks could go between the concrete barriers, and yanked her over right there...made a GOD AWFUL sound and jerked when it went over that 3 or 4 inch drop off..

To change the tire, I had to jack the car up, put her on stands, take the shocks loose, then the rear spring shackles...all this to be able to get the tire out from under the wheelwell...took an hour to change the tire, it's a good thing they weren't working on that secion that particular day.

needless to say, the lowering blocks came out as soon as I got home.

as bad as I hate them, I can see why people go to two, three, or four link susupensions and air...

 

I was at the James Dean Run and staying in a motel in Muncie. Guy pulls in the lot about dusk in a beautiful '54 Chevy Bel Air hardtop and the 6 banger is snortin' and wheezing. He pops the hood and we check the dizzy cap. Sure enough a fairly long crack between 3 of the posts. We go to like 3 Autozones and Napas and can't find one. He's from Iowa, it's Saturday night, he needs to be at work on Monday morning and the parts stores can get him one until Tuesday morning. We stop at a drugstore and I buy a can of hair spray. We get back to the car and I s****e the crack with my trusty pocket knife and then I proceed to spray the hell out of the inside cap. Back with the pocket knife after it dries and I s****e the posts. Fired right up and ran like a top. He calls me in Ohio on Monday evening after he gets off of work to tell me he drove it back to Iowa on Sunday evening without a hitch.

I keep hair spray in my trunk now. Does that make me GAY?

 

I keep hair spray in my trunk now. Does that make me GAY?

Naw...sounds pretty ingenious to me.
Thats a great idea! I bet a clear spray enamel or laquer would do the same thing.
I like this post. Many good ideas come from the mother of invention.

 

You'd better read up Petejoe....if we run together to the showdown....it'll be tough keeping that clunker of yours on the road....

I'd better watch joking with you. I should have learned my lesson the last time. Karma was on your side!

 

you have to ask.....

 

I was driving my 59 Chevy to Abomber30's shop for some body work with Django following behind when I heard a weird gringing noise. I pulled over and discovered that my leaky, rusty, FULL gas tank had fallen out at 55mph. Since I was going to the shop I hadn't put any tools in the car. We were in the middle of nowhere, too! Django borrowed a wrench from a farmer and we relocated the tank to the trunk and i plugged some rust holes with CHEWING GUM! 45 minutes later we made it to Drew's shop. The trunk had a lot of gas in it, but that was from NEW holes. The chewing gum held!!!

 

While driving the radical hardtop back from GG's Des Moines event, we drove thru Missouri Valley, Iowa on Highway 30...just as it was getting dark...and it was hot as hell. We no more than got in town and the engine died...pullled off to a side street and proceeded to check everything...

Big fella with a huge cowboy hat and boots pulls up in a new Chevy pickup..."Need help?" He growled.

"Maybe...car just died, checking electrical now."

"Got a huge shop just up the hill...we can tow the car up there and you can work in the light." He said, looking a bit intimidating. "Got a few sodas for you too."

"Uhm, no thanx, I think we can find out the problem here...mite just take us a few minutes and then we can be on the road..." I didn't know who this big guy was or what his intentions were...

He stood around and watched...offering advice and offering his shop a time or two after..kept wondering why he wanted to get the '57 up to his place.

Finally found the Ammeter burned thru...was grounding itself out...cut the wires, connected them and the car started...

I thanked him for waiting while we searched out the problem and he handed me his business card...said "If you're ever in this town again, give me a call, I like hot rods." I didn't look at it, preferring to get back in my car and hit the road. Didn't know what he had in mind...just outside of Omaha, I looked at the card...it read:

Bubba Berry, Mayor of Missouri Valley...

Boy did I feel dumb!!!

R-

 

Not really a "repair" per say but a pretty funny story. Although I'm told you must have had to be there....

The T-Town gang was leaving StrayKat two or three years ago and we stopped for a bite to eat. While we were eating we noticed it was getting darker and darker by the minute.

We quickly finished eating and went outside to see a black m*** of a wall cloud looking thing coming across the prairie with neat little funnels peaking out here and there.

Keep in mind this is Northern Oklahoma looking Northwest. We could see it but it was still a ways away.

We decide to jump in the rides and haul it on out of there. Maybe smarter to sit and see but those storms usually bring hail and hail is no good. So we start heading out and we can see this mess coming after us but nothing to do now but put the hammer down.

I was a car or two behind MONKEY and he hit a big old bump and I saw something take flight. I didn't have mush time to think about it as it was my turn for the same bump and I was doing that thing we all do when we know it's gonna hurt. Puckering and trying to make myself lighter.

As soon as I hit that bump all hell broke loose. I had no idea what it was. The rear of the car was trying to buck the front of it off so I figured I lost a tire, screwed a wheel, sheared some lugs. Who knows.

We have our little flashy light system down. I hit the lights and we pulled over. It's starting to rain like mad.

I jump out and run around to the back just wondering what kinda **** I got myself into. Tornadoes, no spare. Did I even pack the jack? I don't remember.

Seems the thing that flew out of the back of Monkeys truck was a pair of his ****ies. They somehow magically wrapped around my right rear wheel, doing no good for the balance of things. It took a minute to get them loose as we edged the car forward but we got them.

And those are some tough pants too! No visible damage.

We got a little wet but we did miss the bulk of that storm. Pretty sure that was the one that knocked StrayKat's house loose of the foundation.


Last year at Dewey was pretty fun. We got to help Jeter Junior replace his front wheel bearings on his 59 Caddy.

****s to have to do that on the road but even I was releived when we got it done. And I didn't have to worry about how I was going to get all the way back to Colorado!

 

Hillbilly I know EXACTLY what you mean about the Pontiac! Even my Safari with out blocks,you have to jack the car up incredibly high to get the rear tires off.I couldn't even imagine trying to do it on a lowered car.Supposedly you could get 7.60x15 tires as an option over the stock 7.10's.I can't believe you could get a 7.60 to FIT into that wheelwell.

Reminds me of another on the road incident I had with my Austin Mini estate wagon. I was driving down the Interstate(495)in M***achusetts to visit a fellow Mini owner.I had just pulled off the Interstate at the exit I thought I was supposed to take when it died.

I pulled to the side of the road and started checking things.Plenty of gas going into the SU's but no spark to the plugs.AHA!! I thought;the,"Prince of Darkness" has struck again!

Knowing that any Lucas-equipped vehicle requires the carrying of a diverse selection of spare parts,I proceeded to find out exactly what was causing the problem.

Turns out I needed an ignition coil(I had just about everything else but one).In the half hour or so that I'd been working on the car I noticed that there had been only one or two cars go by me on the exit and there were NO houses around.It's a pretty desolate stretch of road with no businesses or the like along the Interstate either.

Figuring I'm going to have to hoof it to a phone and not being in the greatest shape for walking,I decide to get out my pocket bike that I have in the back and ride that.

I push the Mini off the road a bit and unload the bike.It's a little temperamental but finally starts.I check to make sure I have enough gas in it and take off.

After about 4 or 5 MILES I finally come to of all things a Regional High School.I pull into the entrance and notice the shops off to one side.I pull up to the auto shop(by now just about every kid in cl*** has come running out)and ask if there is a phone I can use.They are amazed by this wild-haired 230 lb.hippie with a full beard riding a bike not much bigger than his ***.

The shop teacher shows me to the one in his office and I dial my friend figuring he'll have a spare coil.No answer.

The shop teacher asks what the problem is and I tell him.He offers me a coil off one of the customers cars and refuses to accept any money for it.I thank him and stuff it in my T-shirt(I have no pockets and can't carry it and control the bike at the same time)and head back to the car.

I p*** a couple of cars on the return trip and one of them nearly runs off the road staring at me.I get back,install the coil and take off for home.

Since then(1977)the bike has never been left anywhere but the back of whatever car I'm driving(usually a wagon).I usually refer to it as,"Despair Tire" when people ask what it is.

 

Hmmm here's mine... I was goin from Truckee to Reno Only about 30 miles no big deal... So im in my 50 ford Got to the show had a good time seein Demented are Go.. a lil tipsy but Still in total control then dark... bat went dead so I pull over and look in the trunk(where the bat is) looks fine go look in the engine bay... no belt at all... damn and its gettin cold .. around 30 degrees!! And my girl(date) was gettin cold and then I think about it I said take off one of your stockings!! She said I'd ratrher DO IT in a bed!! I said Hell no its gonna get us home!! w****d it arounf the pullys tight... and Luckly I had a spare almost charger batt in the trunk... swap the batt's and fires up and that stocking is holdin up for the 25 miles home!!!

 

Generally when I break things on the road, I break them ******** enough that there is no fix, which generally leads to a towing story (use search function for that thread). Blown center sections, snapped camshafts, thrown rods...no roadside repair for that stuff.

I always carry paper clips with me on the road. I was driving my 57 Bel Air one day, cruising home from school. Suddenly, the accelerator pedal falls to the floor, and the car is just idling. ****. Throttle linkage. The rubber grommet/washer had dry rotten and fallen out, and the cotter pin then vibrated loose. I took the "java jacket" off of my cup of coffee, tore it into an appopriate size and punched a hole through it with a screw driver. That was my new washer. Then I took the paper clip and used that as the cotter pin. 3000+ miles later, I sold the car with that still in place.

 

In the 70's I was going to college summer school in South Dakota and my wife and daughter went to Michigan to visit her parents. I finished up at the Standard station I worked at at midnight and jumped in the coupe for Holland, MI, down I 29 and across I 80. Rubbed through a heater hos on the way but a couple spark plugs fixed that. On the way back, I started losing power and it finally quit at Iowa City, IA, on a late Sunday afternoon. It'd start again after sitting and run for a few minutes, so I limped into a Phillips 66. They had all the tools to fix it but it wouldn't clear the hoist, so I crawled undr it in the gravel. Found the back tank wasn't vented well enough and my Dupree pulse pump had overheated, causing the screw to melt out of the plastic contact holder. I was putting it back together when the Cedar Valley Street Rods drove by. They'd been at the opening of the Sycamore Mall and were headed back to Cedar Rapids. Here's a '30 coupe in obvious trouble in a gas station and every one of theose street rodders drove right on by. Years later, when I ended up working in Cedar Rapids, they couldn't understand why I didn't want to join their club. I bet if they'd been HAMBers, the lot would have been full.

 

You must be talking about the day I wanted to kill you!

Not a Repair, but a story:

After a complete disaster trip to Indy, the year before, I was sure that things were gonna be smooth, and my 62 Impala wagon was in tip-top shape for the haul. Going over every nut, bolt, belt, etc. I found it to be ready.
Me and a young kid named Marcus proceeded to leave the Flint area, at the same time as (for re-***urance) flatheadpete, his wife, and another friend. Things were going along fine, until just before Coldwater Michigan, when I felt something odd. There was construction going on, so I blamed the vibration on that. It seemed to get a little worse, as if I had a tire going down, so I pulled it over to have a look see. I found that the tires were in fine shape, and all seemed well, so we went on. After we got back on to I-69, things were smooth sailing, for the first mile, and then all **** broke loose. All I can remember, is the car shaking violently, and feeling the ***-end of the car drift out. It seems that my vibration, was in fact, the lug nuts on the drivers rear breaking away, and leaving me with a hell of a scary situation. I got the car off the side of the road, and luckily the car was low enough, that it caused the wheel to eventually wedge itself up in the wheelwell, acting as a scrub-brake.
The whole time that this was happening, Pete was none the wiser, I had signaled him, flashed the lights etc, but away he went. I did not have my cell phone with me. (my employer gave it to me for work only) Luckily, a p***ing motorist had stopped, and I was able to use his cell phone. Not knowing Pete's cell number, I called back to my sister in Flint, had her go over to my house, and get his number and call him to notify him of my big mess. In the meantime, I had called to arrange a tow home, since the wheel and tire were trashed, the axle was bent, and we were a couple hours away from home.
About two hours later, my caravanning partner, shows back up. The first thing he says is "I gotta get a picture of that." I could have killed the skinny little ****er right there, and could have cared less who had witnessed it. Needless to say, we were on the side of I-69 for about 4 hours, and saw alot of cars that were heading down to Indy. Most of them stopped at first, including Denise (HRLC),that is how I originally met her and big olds.
When the flatbed showed up, Me and my buddy went with the driver, to get my car home, and Pete, Jenny and Marcus went on. I got the car home, made it roll, shoved it in the garage, and hopped in my truck and went on to Indy.

Lessons learned:
-No matter how many times you go over your car, it could still give you fits...it is old you know.
-Whenever caravanning with Pete, make sure to have him follow you, and by all means have a phone with you...
-And finally, I-69 seems to get ALOT of traffic for old cars headed to Indy, I know because I couldnt tell you how many times I heard.."was that you in the wagon, crashed on the side of the road?"

Oh well, if there wasnt risks to take, and things to complain to your friends about,what would the fun of it be.


BTW- about 1 1/2 months, and about $3500 later, I was back at it....insurance is gooooood!

 

Yep. We got about 90 miles bfore we turned around. The picture is actually pretty good. Oh well. Ya live and ya learn.

 

I was a mere pup of 21 and much more left wing then I am now 20 years later. i was driving, easy now, a '69 Volvo I had cobbled together from tow cars. At the mall (remember, I was much younger then) the damned thing sputters and dies. I coasted into a parking spot and popped the hood. Check for spark - OK, check for fuel - OK. Hmmm. a head scratcher. I called the fellow who I bought the cars from and he, being a Volvo freak diagnoses it as a timing gear gone bad. Damned fiberpressed****thingy!! I hop the bus home, ride my bike to his house, snag the gear, go home, grab toolbox, spare gasket set, drain pan for coolant and all the other **** I'll need to fix it, load it all on the bus and go back to the mall.

I started repairs at 8:00 the evening in the mall parking. About 9:30 a cop rolls up, asks what I'm doing. I tell him "Changing a timing gear, isn't it obvious?" He didn't like my sarcasm but apparently he didn't like paperwork even more. He just shook his head, said, "Sure you're not stealing it?" and gave me a blank look. "Uhmm, yeah, I'm not stealing it. Why would anyone bother to change the timing gear on a car they intend to STEAL?" Cop says "I dunno. It's a strange world." and got back in the squad and left.

I wrapped it up an hour later and drove home.

 

Coming back to DFW from College Station, I was driving along desolate Hwy 6 about 11pm after a football game when I noticed my dash lights getting dim and the radio getting quiet. I told my gf to put on her walking shoes, this could be bad.

Car limped along (I turned the headlights off and went to parking lights only at 30mph) when we made a final curve and it stalled at the very edge of a tiny little Texas town. Got out to look for a payphone - pre cell-phone era here - and found one outside a small cinder-block auto parts store. I noticed on the side of the store that there was a small crack of light. I peeked in and saw a tiny old man doing some welding inside. I knocked, and he let me in. Come to find out, he had the alternator in stock. I walked back to the Tbird, got the alternator off (I always carry tools ) and he helped swap the pulley. I was back on the road in 15mins. Definitely the most fortunate thing that has ever happened to me. hahaaa

 

75 miles into my first trip to Bonneville Speed Week '05 in my 50 Plymouth, clipping along at about 75 mph on the freeway, the flatty 6 stumbles once, twice, and stalls. I tried to restart it coasting down the road a few times, and nothing...

The shoulder on the freeway was steep, so I wasn't able to get completely off the pavement. Lots of semis barreling past at 70 mph rocking the car. I did a few quick checks and determined that it wasn't getting fuel. Wondered if the pickup in the tank clogged or if the new fuel pump died.

Standing there with my head under the hood, a guy in a ****py old ford sedan pulls over and backs up, but doesn't get out. I walked over to his p***enger window, and notice he only has one leg. He offered a ride, but by then I had already called a tow. He casually mentioned that he lost his leg looking under the hood of his car on the freeway when another car ran into him.

Creeped me out, so I sat on the side of the road, well away from the car, watching the cars whizz past.

Turned out the be the pump, and I could probably have fixed it if I had been on a quiet side road. The wrist pin in the pump lever had worked it's way out, stopping the pump from working. The pin was ready to fall on the ground, but was still there. Got to know the tow driver pretty well after spending 2 hours in the truck on the way back home. Turned out to be a five hour adventure round trip.

Speed Week this year or bust...

Pete

 

Here's a quick one that happened to me last year on the way to the showdown in Pa.
Big chief, Dat Dirty rat and myself were in the mountains of Pa when i noticed the left exhaust stack on my truck wasn't tight to the cab like it's supposed to be..
It looked like the bracket broke and it was only staying on with the pipe it self..
So after a few miles like that i knew i was going to loose it and i'd have no drivers exhaust..
We pulled over a few more miles down the road and sure enough the bracket broke..
I have a healthy supply of tools and misc **** i carry all the time, but nothing to fix this in a hurry..
Big Chief on the other hand had some mechanics wire on board..

So after wrapping it about 5 times with wire we were on our way again..
It stayed that way until i got back home..
Thats a few trips around the dirt track, and about 450 miles...

That thin little wire is STRONG stuff !!
Thanks chief!

 

Well…not as good (Bad?) as most of these but here is mine.

2 years back. The last part of our move from San Diego to Missouri is the wife; kids and I are driving cross-country to the new house. Her and 2 kids in the Mini Van, Me and 1 kid in my 50 Chevy P/U. Got two-way radios to talk back and forth and a good ***ortment of tools. All goes well and I was more worried about her Van (160,000 miles) than my 50+year-old truck. After all this was its third trip of at least 2000 miles, and after 20 years of ownership, I know the old girl quite well. (The truck, not the wife. Still ain't got them females figured.)

Got as far as Truth or Consequences New Mexico and noticed a strange “squeak-crunch” noise from under the trucks hood at idle. Pulled into A McDonalds and listening to it under the hood, sounded like maybe a bearing in the Alt going south. Pulled off the belt…noise still there. OK, Power steering Pump? Pull of that belt, noise gone. Fine I don’t need P/S anyway. Put the fan/alt belt on…noise back. After watching it real close idling there I notice the lower pulley wobbles just a hair, exactly in time with the “squeak-crunch” noise. The pulley had cracked/pulled through around most of the bolt heads. No sweat, I even brought some spare hardware in the toolbox. Put a bigger washer around each bolt and done. Dam I’m a smart feller to have every thing I need ‘eh?

Got east of Albuquerque and felt a vibration slowly building as the hours and miles past. Pulled off the I40 into Santa Rosa for gas and to check it out. Got down the off ramp and it sounded like all the rods knocking’ Man that’s a bad sound with 700+ miles to go. Turns out the Harmonic balancer was about to fall off. The other problem must have vibrated the big bolt down in the center loose. (Its not one of the bolts that holds the pulley on this old Buick engine) It’s early (1:00am) on a Sunday, but it could have been worse, the balancer didn’t fall off, the bolts still there and I got tools…no worries. Get some sleep and fix it in the morning.

Morning comes and I go to run the bolt back in… it’s a 15/16th…biggest socket I brought with is a 7/8ths. After a few words that I should not have been saying on a Sunday, I asked at the Hotel desk if they had any tools. Sure, and he gets me a hammer, pipe wrench and some bent screwdrivers. No thanks; it’s not a Ford (That’s going to leave a mark). Got an AutoPepKragenBoyZone in town? No, but he thinks the NAPA is sometimes open on Sundays. Gives me directions, warns me about the local cops Speed-trap (He was there) I hop in the Mini Van and I get to the NAPA store only to find out from the Bored/Disinterested kid working there that the size I need is sold out. Has a whole set for $75, but that’s a lot just to get one socket. To my surprise he busts open the set, hands me the socket and says “Here, just bring it back when you’re done”. There are still some cool people left around! Put the bolt in and the rest of the trip was smooth, except for the B/S I went through with the Auto Transport Company that was shipping my Hudson, but that’s off this subject and doesn’t involve any cool or helpful people.

Hey! Look at that, an FNG no more!