Repair Mistakes & Blunders

this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...





I was 15 years old, and my older brother had just gotten a '47 Chevy. I kept
overhearing the older kids in school talking about pistons, cylinders,
shackles for lowering, glasspacks and all that, and wished I knew more about
cars. So one evening, I snuck into the garage and lifted the hood of his
car. I unscrewed the beautiful chrome-plated acorn nuts that held the valve
cover on, and lifted off the cover. I had never heard of gaskets, and this
one was cork, and it tore in two or three pieces. I looked at the
complicated works underneath and noticed that some of the rocker arms were
loose, so I tightened them all. Then I put the cover back on, making sure
the torn parts of the cork gasket were lined-up right. Then I started
tightening the acorn nuts on the studs that were to hold the cover on. I
kept tightening because the nuts never seemed to get tight. Eventually the
studs pushed right through the smooth tops of the nuts leaving them with
what I would describe as "trap doors".

I didn't say anything to my brother as he left for work next day, but he had
plenty to say when he got home! The engine had overheated and oil was
seeping out from the valve covers.

I learned from my Dad as he tried to set things right that there was
supposed to be clearance for the valves, and that sometimes you have to
replace a gasket.

Tom in North Dakota

"Rob" <nobody > writes:

> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...

This didn't, but....

I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
University of Washington.

I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
had the drums turned.

What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.

I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
pick up a jack and tools.

I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.

I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
on me.

I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
when I got home.
--
It's time to try defying gravity

"Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
...
> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>
>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>
> This didn't, but....
>
> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
> University of Washington.
>
> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
> had the drums turned.
>
> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>
> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
> pick up a jack and tools.
>
> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>
> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
> on me.
>
> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
> when I got home.

When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can
recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me to
work on cars.

I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand
daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.

I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was
available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids can
just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age
and infirmary.

Nice stories.

DAS
--
To reply directly replace 'nospam' with 'schmetterling'
--
"NotMe" > wrote in message ...
>
> "Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
> ...
>> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>>
>>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>>
>> This didn't, but....
>>
>> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
>> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
>> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
>> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
>> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
>> University of Washington.
>>
>> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
>> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
>> had the drums turned.
>>
>> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
>> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
>> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
>> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
>> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>>
>> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
>> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
>> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
>> pick up a jack and tools.
>>
>> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
>> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
>> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
>> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>>
>> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
>> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
>> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
>> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
>> on me.
>>
>> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
>> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
>> when I got home.
>
> When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can
> recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
> apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me
> to
> work on cars.
>
> I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
> about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand
> daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.
>
> I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was
> available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids
> can just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to
> age and infirmary.
>
>
>

"NotMe" wrote in message ...


"Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
...
> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>
>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>
> This didn't, but....
>
> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
> University of Washington.
>
> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
> had the drums turned.
>
> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>
> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
> pick up a jack and tools.
>
> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>
> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
> on me.
>
> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
> when I got home.

When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can
recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me to
work on cars.

I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand
daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.

I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was
available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids can
just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age
and infirmary.

Here's one for the ages that I did:

I was adjusting the valve lash--and timing--on my "prized" orange 1972
Vega...my first new car...in 1972. I must've been 22. I also had just bought
a new set of Craftsman wrenches and sockets (so already I was dangerous).

After doing everything by the book, I went to fire up the motor...and
something very, very bad happened.

I had left my new ratchet on the crankshaft pulley. It caught on
"something," and the notched timing belt slipped about, oh, maybe 10-20
notches. Then the ratchet slammed into the radiator, putting a gaping hole
in that.

Not having a clue as to how to re-fire the motor at this point, I
punted...and pushed the Vega six blocks to a local gas station, where a guy
re-timed it for me. Took him about 10 minutes.

Huge lesson learned on that one.

"TM" > wrote in message
...
>
>
> "NotMe" wrote in message ...
>
>
> "Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
> ...
>> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>>
>>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>>
>> This didn't, but....
>>
>> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
>> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
>> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
>> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
>> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
>> University of Washington.
>>
>> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
>> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
>> had the drums turned.
>>
>> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
>> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
>> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
>> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
>> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>>
>> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
>> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
>> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
>> pick up a jack and tools.
>>
>> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
>> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
>> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
>> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>>
>> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
>> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
>> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
>> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
>> on me.
>>
>> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
>> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
>> when I got home.
>
> When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can
> recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
> apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me
> to
> work on cars.
>
> I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
> about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand
> daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.
>
> I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was
> available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids
> can
> just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age
> and infirmary.
>
> Here's one for the ages that I did:
>
> I was adjusting the valve lash--and timing--on my "prized" orange 1972
> Vega...my first new car...in 1972. I must've been 22. I also had just
> bought a new set of Craftsman wrenches and sockets (so already I was
> dangerous).
>
> After doing everything by the book, I went to fire up the motor...and
> something very, very bad happened.
>
> I had left my new ratchet on the crankshaft pulley. It caught on
> "something," and the notched timing belt slipped about, oh, maybe 10-20
> notches. Then the ratchet slammed into the radiator, putting a gaping
> hole in that.
>
> Not having a clue as to how to re-fire the motor at this point, I
> punted...and pushed the Vega six blocks to a local gas station, where a
> guy re-timed it for me. Took him about 10 minutes.
>
> Huge lesson learned on that one.

My dad was a AI (inspector grade aircraft mechanic for the military). At
one time he spent 3 years rebuilding an engine for a collector with a F4U
Corsair (inverted gull wing aircraft you see in all the war movies involving
the Pacific war).

In any case he was near completion when some yahoo tossed a few extra parts
in the pile. Old man completely disassembled the engine and redid the work.
When he figured out who did what he beat the living hell out of the SOB.

Were it me I'd have arranged for the SOB to steal more chain than he could
swim with ... but then I'm less forgiving than my old man.

corsairs......flown by pappy Boynton i believe


"NotMe" > wrote in message ...
>
> "TM" > wrote in message
> ...
>>
>>
>> "NotMe" wrote in message ...
>>
>>
>> "Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>>>
>>>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>>>
>>> This didn't, but....
>>>
>>> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
>>> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which
>>> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then
>>> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made
>>> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
>>> University of Washington.
>>>
>>> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
>>> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
>>> had the drums turned.
>>>
>>> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
>>> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
>>> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
>>> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
>>> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>>>
>>> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
>>> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
>>> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
>>> pick up a jack and tools.
>>>
>>> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
>>> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure)
>>> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
>>> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>>>
>>> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly
>>> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
>>> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
>>> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
>>> on me.
>>>
>>> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
>>> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear
>>> when I got home.
>>
>> When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I
>> can
>> recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
>> apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me
>> to
>> work on cars.
>>
>> I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
>> about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one
>> grand
>> daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.
>>
>> I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was
>> available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids
>> can
>> just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age
>> and infirmary.
>>
>> Here's one for the ages that I did:
>>
>> I was adjusting the valve lash--and timing--on my "prized" orange 1972
>> Vega...my first new car...in 1972. I must've been 22. I also had just
>> bought a new set of Craftsman wrenches and sockets (so already I was
>> dangerous).
>>
>> After doing everything by the book, I went to fire up the motor...and
>> something very, very bad happened.
>>
>> I had left my new ratchet on the crankshaft pulley. It caught on
>> "something," and the notched timing belt slipped about, oh, maybe 10-20
>> notches. Then the ratchet slammed into the radiator, putting a gaping
>> hole in that.
>>
>> Not having a clue as to how to re-fire the motor at this point, I
>> punted...and pushed the Vega six blocks to a local gas station, where a
>> guy re-timed it for me. Took him about 10 minutes.
>>
>> Huge lesson learned on that one.
>
> My dad was a AI (inspector grade aircraft mechanic for the military). At
> one time he spent 3 years rebuilding an engine for a collector with a F4U
> Corsair (inverted gull wing aircraft you see in all the war movies
> involving the Pacific war).
>
> In any case he was near completion when some yahoo tossed a few extra
> parts in the pile. Old man completely disassembled the engine and redid
> the work. When he figured out who did what he beat the living hell out of
> the SOB.
>
> Were it me I'd have arranged for the SOB to steal more chain than he could
> swim with ... but then I'm less forgiving than my old man.
>
>
>

"Rob" <nobody > wrote in message
ng.com...
> corsairs......flown by pappy Boynton i believe

Yes that's the one. Real sweat to fly but had built in gotchs if you were
low and slow and goosed it for a go around. Killed more than a few new
pilots until someone figured out way.

>
>
> "NotMe" > wrote in message
> ...
>>
>> "TM" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>>
>>>
>>> "NotMe" wrote in message ...
>>>
>>>
>>> "Joe Pfeiffer" > wrote in message
>>> ...
>>>> "Rob" <nobody > writes:
>>>>
>>>>> this came in a newsletter i get from time to time...
>>>>
>>>> This didn't, but....
>>>>
>>>> I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could
>>>> easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger
>>>> (which
>>>> I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and
>>>> then
>>>> the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have
>>>> made
>>>> me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the
>>>> University of Washington.
>>>>
>>>> I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another
>>>> lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I
>>>> had the drums turned.
>>>>
>>>> What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing,
>>>> going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I
>>>> remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't
>>>> even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes.
>>>> Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.
>>>>
>>>> I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow
>>>> it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking
>>>> brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to
>>>> pick up a jack and tools.
>>>>
>>>> I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of
>>>> the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for
>>>> sure)
>>>> had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes
>>>> were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.
>>>>
>>>> I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time.
>>>> Clearly
>>>> something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty
>>>> obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job
>>>> I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour
>>>> on me.
>>>>
>>>> I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop
>>>> sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my
>>>> underwear
>>>> when I got home.
>>>
>>> When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I
>>> can
>>> recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather
>>> apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me
>>> to
>>> work on cars.
>>>
>>> I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing
>>> about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one
>>> grand
>>> daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.
>>>
>>> I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time
>>> was
>>> available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids
>>> can
>>> just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to
>>> age
>>> and infirmary.
>>>
>>> Here's one for the ages that I did:
>>>
>>> I was adjusting the valve lash--and timing--on my "prized" orange 1972
>>> Vega...my first new car...in 1972. I must've been 22. I also had just
>>> bought a new set of Craftsman wrenches and sockets (so already I was
>>> dangerous).
>>>
>>> After doing everything by the book, I went to fire up the motor...and
>>> something very, very bad happened.
>>>
>>> I had left my new ratchet on the crankshaft pulley. It caught on
>>> "something," and the notched timing belt slipped about, oh, maybe 10-20
>>> notches. Then the ratchet slammed into the radiator, putting a gaping
>>> hole in that.
>>>
>>> Not having a clue as to how to re-fire the motor at this point, I
>>> punted...and pushed the Vega six blocks to a local gas station, where a
>>> guy re-timed it for me. Took him about 10 minutes.
>>>
>>> Huge lesson learned on that one.
>>
>> My dad was a AI (inspector grade aircraft mechanic for the military). At
>> one time he spent 3 years rebuilding an engine for a collector with a F4U
>> Corsair (inverted gull wing aircraft you see in all the war movies
>> involving the Pacific war).
>>
>> In any case he was near completion when some yahoo tossed a few extra
>> parts in the pile. Old man completely disassembled the engine and redid
>> the work. When he figured out who did what he beat the living hell out of
>> the SOB.
>>
>> Were it me I'd have arranged for the SOB to steal more chain than he
>> could swim with ... but then I'm less forgiving than my old man.
>>
>>
>>
>
>