Topic: Shop stories!

[brewsky]

I was listening to a salesman explaining to a potential customer that the used bike he was looking at had been "been completely gone thru the shop".

I knew the shop foreman and asked him just what that included......
his answer was......"well, what it really means is the salesman rode it in the front door, thru the shop, and out the back" 

[Terry in Australia]

I bought my first 'Wang, a tatty 1975 model in 1983 for $999. It had done a lot of miles, but had been pretty much left alone. I did a cosmetic resto (recovered seat, new paint, new exhaust, new tyres etc) but it had electrical problems. (fcuked alternator)

I took it to my local Honda dealer, and the mechanic (unusually grumpy old bugger) pulled it apart and installed a "good used" stator, and stuck it all back together. He fired it up, and it appeared to be working, so I rode it home. Next day I went for a ride, and it just flattened the battery, again. Great.

I advertised it for sale but didn't get any takers, then I got a telegram from a bike shop offering to buy it from me. I charged the battery, rode it into the city, found the guy who'd offered to buy it, (the manager) he checked it out, and cut me a check.

While the check cutting was still in progress, his mechanic was looking a little concerned about some of the noises emanating from the engine. I explained that the alternator was chain driven offa the crank and the chain had probably stretched, hence the rattle. That must have sounded plausible, because the manager told the mechanic that it was fine, and told him to take it away.

I took the check and quickly cashed it. My mate Davey was in the shop a week later and saw it in a million pieces out in the workshop. The mechanic had a big shiit eating grin on his face and told Davey that they'd sold it and a day later it had come back for warranty work which involved a complete rebuild.

He said the manager would have been fired if he didn't own the shop.........    

[donpark1086]

My shop story is one of incredible skill, unmatched by anything I've seen since in 45 years.

I had my 1967 Triumph T120C Tiger single carb serviced at the local authorized Triumph dealer.  It was shifting poorly and the mechanic, a guy named Quackenbush, did the work.  Quackenbush serviced the clutch, but he left the left adjuster jam nut loose on the pressure plate so that the adjuster screw truned and kept the clutch permanently disengaged.  Which also meant no kick start, and no ride.

Quackenbush arrived at my Dad's house with a normal 1960s style battered pick-up truck with just the usual tailgate and a small piece for lumber for a ramp.  Maybe the lumber was a 10 ft 2X6??

Quackenbush was a small guy, maybe 5'4", and cigarette smoking skinny, and grimy before the days of decent cleaners.

He told me to stand back, and 10 ft from the base of his flimsy narrow ramp, he ran with the bike.  It was perfect execution.  My Tiger rode centrally on the "ramp", nestled right in the back of the truck, and Quackenbush jumped in the back at the same time while his feet never touched the ramp.  Timing, strength, skill, practice.  An acrobat!!

45 years later, I'm still impressed!

Quackenbush remedied his work and gave me back the bike the next day, by taking me to the shop aft on his Trident, which he rode with the same skill and panche as he loaded a bike.

[MoMo]

My shop story is one of incredible skill, unmatched by anything I've seen since in 45 years.

I had my 1967 Triumph T120C Tiger single carb serviced at the local authorized Triumph dealer.  It was shifting poorly and the mechanic, a guy named Quackenbush, did the work.  Quackenbush serviced the clutch, but he left the left adjuster jam nut loose on the pressure plate so that the adjuster screw truned and kept the clutch permanently disengaged.  Which also meant no kick start, and no ride.

Quackenbush arrived at my Dad's house with a normal 1960s style battered pick-up truck with just the usual tailgate and a small piece for lumber for a ramp.  Maybe the lumber was a 10 ft 2X6??

Quackenbush was a small guy, maybe 5'4", and cigarette smoking skinny, and grimy before the days of decent cleaners.

He told me to stand back, and 10 ft from the base of his flimsy narrow ramp, he ran with the bike.  It was perfect execution.  My Tiger rode centrally on the "ramp", nestled right in the back of the truck, and Quackenbush jumped in the back at the same time while his feet never touched the ramp.  Timing, strength, skill, practice.  An acrobat!!

45 years later, I'm still impressed!

Quackenbush remedied his work and gave me back the bike the next day, by taking me to the shop aft on his Trident, which he rode with the same skill and panche as he loaded a bike.

So where were the Marx Brothers in this scenario?  They had to be there with Professor Quackenabush

[Terry in Australia]

Well Mr Quackenbush did better than me. In 1981 I needed to get my non-running CB750K1 over to the bike shop, and being on my own, I decided that I'd have to ride it up into the back of the Dodge 1 ton truck at the Army depot where I was working.

I suppose the height of the tray was around waist height, (2.5 - 3 feet?) and all I had for a ramp was an old door that was laying against the wall of the building. When I secured it to the back of the truck it was at about a 45 degree angle, but being young and dumb, I thought it possible.

I was much thinner and fitter than I am now, so like Mr Quackenbush, I took a run up, and if it wasn't for the exhaust hitting the floor of the truck and momentarily stopping dead, I would have made it.

As it was, the bike toppled to the right, and I (being on the left) was actually flung over the bike, and landed on the ground, providing the bike with a fairly soft landing pad. The only damage to the bike was a slightly bent right handlebar, but I managed to break most of my ribs when the bike landed on me.

I didn't know that they were broken at the time, so when our office cleaner arrived, we managed to manhandle the bike into the truck, and luckily there were enough bikers hanging out at the bike shop when I arrived, who were willing to unload it for me, as (probably because I couldn't stand up straight, for some reason) they realised that I was in no shape to help unload it. The things we do for love.........

[bwaller]

Terry, you're not the first to suffer from "steeprampitis"!

[donpark1086]

Here's another admirable skill and salesmanship story from my days in Illinois.

I'd just bought a new left over 1976 Triumph T140V 750 for $1600.  It would have been 1977.  I found a shop in Geneva, Illinois with great prices on leather jackets and bought two.  But what really caught my eye were two new Ducati black and red 750GT bikes with a price of $2100 each.  Too expensive, my young moronic self concluded.

But the sales guy and shop owner sensed my interest.  The 750GT bikes were not prepared as demonstrators, but a new Ducati 860GTS was fired up for me to test ride. 

And fired up right in the showroom!!  Indoors!!  Why push it outside?  But this was part of the salesmanship, as the bike sounded damn fine indoors.  The shop owner mounted and blasted through the open door with so little clearance to the door frame I thought it impossible.  His first skill demonstration.

In the shop's front lot the owner offered that he'd warm it up for me.  So the helmetless owner rocketed away up the curving hill away from the shop and just before out of earshot turned around.    So here he comes blasting, not coasting, down the hill on the Ducati 860GTS, and it seems certain there is no possible way to stop in the shop's lot at his high speed.

From the street into the shop's lot was an incline of about two feet, so the owner hit this "ramp" while braking heavily, and became airborne  about a foot and both wheel locked in the air.  He then landed heavily, rubber side down, with both wheels locked and skidding in his front lot leaving a couple of black marks about 8 feet long from both tires.

The owner grinned at me, offered the still running bike, and said, "It's your turn".  And of course, now there's a crowd around!!

Timidly I got the 860GTS turned around and aimed up the hill.  Naturally I caught neutral between first and second and offered the crowd an embarrassing over-rev.  The big Duck was very smooth and powerful, but had heavy controls, and steered like a truck.  But 15 minutes later I was back with no crashes or further embarassment.  But I failed literally to "fly" into the front lot with the great style and skilled demonstrated earlier by the shop's owner.

I didn't buy a Ducati bevel twin that day, but did get a used 860GT a year later.  Still have it.  But never did developed "flight" skills with it!!

[MoMo]

Here's another admirable skill and salesmanship story from my days in Illinois.

I'd just bought a new left over 1976 Triumph T140V 750 for $1600.  It would have been 1977.  I found a shop in Geneva, Illinois with great prices on leather jackets and bought two.  But what really caught my eye were two new Ducati black and red 750GT bikes with a price of $2100 each.  Too expensive, my young moronic self concluded.

But the sales guy and shop owner sensed my interest.  The 750GT bikes were not prepared as demonstrators, but a new Ducati 860GTS was fired up for me to test ride. 

And fired up right in the showroom!!  Indoors!!  Why push it outside?  But this was part of the salesmanship, as the bike sounded damn fine indoors.  The shop owner mounted and blasted through the open door with so little clearance to the door frame I thought it impossible.  His first skill demonstration.

In the shop's front lot the owner offered that he'd warm it up for me.  So the helmetless owner rocketed away up the curving hill away form the shop and just before out of earshot turned around.    So here he comes blasting, not coasting, down the hill on the Ducati 860GTS, and it seems certain there is no possible way to stop in the shop's lot at his high speed.

From the street into the shop's lot was an incline of about two feet, so the owner hit this "ramp" while braking heavily, and became airborne  about a foot and both wheel locked in the air.  He then landed heavily, rubber side down, with both wheels locked and skidding in his front lot leaving a couple of black marks about 8 feet long from both tires.

The owner grinned at me, offered the still running bike, and said, "It's your turn".  And of course, now there's a crowd around!!

Timidly I got the 860GTS turned around and aimed up the hill.  Naturally I caught neutral between first and second and offered the crowd an embarrassing over-rev.  The big Duck was very smooth and powerful, but had heavy controls, and steered like a truck.  But 15 minutes later I was back with no crashes or further embarassment.  But I failed literally to "fly" into the front lot with the great style and skilled demonstrated earlier by the shop's owner.

I didn't buy a Ducati bevel twin that day, but did get a used 860GT a year later.  Still have it.  But never did developed "flight" skills with it!!

You got it wrong, you weren't the moron-you were dealing with one...Larry

[CycleRanger]

I arrived at a buddies house literally about one minute too late to prevent him from destroying a small block 350.
He had gotten the heads rebuilt and in the course of putting it back together had dropped a nut down the intake manifold.

Of course when he started the engine it sucked the nut past the valve, wedged against the head, and cocked the piston, and cracked the block..... (Ruined the head too.)

I pulled up right as he was shutting it down.

But the really, really, really, amazingly stupid part of this is he told me he knew he had dropped the nut down the intake and after failing to fish it out had decided the nut was too small to do any damage and would just blow out through the exhaust!
(This was one of the nuts that secured the carb to the manifold...)

I say I could have prevented this by arriving a few minutes sooner because I would have prevented him from starting the engine had he told me he'd dropped something into the manifold. At least I would have tried...

As it was I stuck around while he pulled the 350 apart to witness the damage, all the time drinking his beer and ceaselessly berating him for being such a dumbass.

[70CB750]

Doing practical test on tank, they asked me to demonstrate greasing the radiator fan.  I took out the plug, screw in grease gun and done it just about perfectly, except I dropped and lost the plug under the transmission.  The captain told me it is an "A"  but I have to get the plug out.

There was no chance fishing the plug out of that siht under the tank transmission, I traded a new plug for a bottle of vodka with one of the senior privates

[Damfino]

Great stories, I had to subscribe! 

[Don R]

Not in the shop but on a job site. A competing pipefitting contractor had a job in the same factory we were working in. They had a leak and we noticed a guy would come every day at 12:30 to look at the wet spot on the floor. After a couple days they fixed the leak.  The next day at lunch time we ran over at 12:20 and poured some water where the wet spot had been. The guy came and looked, left and came back with a lift and rubbed his hands all over the pipe looking for a leak. This went on for an entire week, on friday he happened to look through the open doorway at us and everyone was rolling on the floor laughing. Then he knew. Later I hired him.

[HondaMan]

Not in the shop but on a job site. A competing pipefitting contractor had a job in the same factory we were working in. They had a leak and we noticed a guy would come every day at 12:30 to look at the wet spot on the floor. After a couple days they fixed the leak.  The next day at lunch time we ran over at 12:20 and poured some water where the wet spot had been. The guy came and looked, left and came back with a lift and rubbed his hands all over the pipe looking for a leak. This went on for an entire week, on friday he happened to look through the open doorway at us and everyone was rolling on the floor laughing. Then he knew. Later I hired him.

At a place where I worked for 14 years, they once hired a Harley rider to come and be a Mechanical Designer. At first, he seemed a good fit to the work. As time went on, not so much...

Well, this place didn't like to outright fire someone, rather they would encourage them to leave. This wasn't management at work, mind you, but the employees themselves who undertook this task: you might say that everyone there had a "hand" in the business (and are proud of the work they do, and rightly so - they ARE very good at it). So, about once a week, something odd would 'happen' to this poor fellow, which sometimes revolved around the way he would come in drunk in the AM (not your best way to come to work).

One day, I came back from a field trip to find him laying under his Harley in the parking lot, looking up at the bottom. About 5 feet away was a puddle of oil, so I presumed it was his. So did he...

This went on intermittently for about 2 weeks. It wasn't the bike making the puddles...pretty soon, he found a different job.

[72 yellow]

I arrived at a buddies house literally about one minute too late to prevent him from destroying a small block 350.
He had gotten the heads rebuilt and in the course of putting it back together had dropped a nut down the intake manifold.

Of course when he started the engine it sucked the nut past the valve, wedged against the head, and cocked the piston, and cracked the block..... (Ruined the head too.)

I pulled up right as he was shutting it down.

But the really, really, really, amazingly stupid part of this is he told me he knew he had dropped the nut down the intake and after failing to fish it out had decided the nut was too small to do any damage and would just blow out through the exhaust!
(This was one of the nuts that secured the carb to the manifold...)

I say I could have prevented this by arriving a few minutes sooner because I would have prevented him from starting the engine had he told me he'd dropped something into the manifold. At least I would have tried...

As it was I stuck around while he pulled the 350 apart to witness the damage, all the time drinking his beer and ceaselessly berating him for being such a dumbass.

In 1968 I bought a new 68 Plymouth Road Runner.  A kid who lived across the street was about 8 years old at the time really liked the car.  He said some day he would have one.  Sure enough about 10 years later he comes home with a 69 Road Runner.  This guy ruined everything he ever came in contact with.  He blew the engine in no time.  One day he came over and said the engine he had rebuilt in his garage would not turn over.  I asked him the usual questions, battery good, connections correct.  All answered yes.  I asked him if he miked the crank and he asked who's Mike ?  Turns out he had the crank ground .010 under, but had installed main bearings that were for a crank ground .030 under.  He just mashed everything together.  I couldn't help but laugh because he would ask you a question but never try anything you would suggest.  He got mad and I left.  A few days later he sort of fixed everything and got the car running.  My dad and I were outside when he backed the car out of the garage.  He saw us and decided to do a burnout in his driveway just to show us his mechanical skills.  The car would not light the tires no matter how hard he tried.  He got so upset he took the garden hose and soaked the drive .  He accomplished his burnout which also included running over his parents new garden hose and ruining it.  We just stared at him.  He backed out of the drive and went down the street.  At the corner he turned and floored it and nearly took out a fire hydrant.  A couple of weeks later his mom made him sell the car. 

[Don R]

The guy across the street brought home a 65 charger, said it was cherry. no rust, I could see fiberglass hanging out of the fender bottoms. After a year or so his kid got a battery, a starter and a can of starting fluid. After spraying and cranking for a while, I heard a woooomp zzzzeeeeeeeee. A valve cover breather left the property and cleared an 8' fence next door.  It seems it had a holed piston and he's managed to fill the crankcase with ether before it finally made a spark. Boy were his eyes big!  I took over a compression tester and we figured it out. Dad bought another one after that.

[HondaMan]

About 5 blocks from here is a fella who wanted to build a mighty dragstrip '57 Chevy. For years he searched until he found a decent-bodied one with the [un]mighty straight 6 abroad, and spent the winter making a big-block 454 from a wrecked Chevelle fit inside (things like: cut open holes in the fenderwells to fit the wide heads, stuff like that...). After all, it was to be a dragster.

The following summer he pulled out the stock 454 and installed high-CR pistons (11:1), .040" overbore, a turbo cam and...a supercharger. (Hmm...). He worked on it all the next winter to get it ready to run, with a modified Powerslide 2-speed tranny, 4.55:1 rear gears (so he said) in a big differential, and struggled with how to fuel it: finally spent a bunch of $$ to have someone come and put injectors in it for him, with their computer. All in all, it looked like he was building a monster, for sure.

The next Spring came the big day: he backed it out so the whole neighborhood could witness the first-ever startup, along with the EFI guy as kibitzer. They put in some "race gas" and wetted the pump, and started cranking it over from 2 batteries sitting on the driveway (no room for them in the engine bay, hadn't figured that part out yet). The engine caught and fired up.

Boy, we were almost a block away at the time, and it was LOUD, like a dragstrip. The guy I was visiting at the time mentioned, "Boy, that sounds good...Like, too good." About that moment the carbuff revved it up to maybe 3000 RPM, then backed it slowly down, then snapped the throttle big time for a rap: it started to crackle: then came a big "CRACK" and it stopped. From a block away, we could see a wisp of smoke roll up from the engine bay as the 2 guys walked up and both looked down into the smoking bay at the same time (precious moments!). I asked my friend, "What kind of rods did he put under those 11:1 pistons and the blower?". His answer: the ones that came with the block.

Two weeks later, the car was gone.

[70CB750]

We had a guy bring in 454 engine to put in his 69 Corvette. 

I dont care for corvettes much, but the 454 in it, it could give you hard on just listening to it.

[HondaMan]

We had a guy bring in 454 engine to put in his 69 Corvette. 

I dont care for corvettes much, but the 454 in it, it could give you hard on just listening to it.

I had the "baby brother" of the 454 in my 1972 El Camino (built 8/71): it was the ill-fated 402 CID. It could pass anything but a gas station (4 MPG in town, 9-11 MPG hiway). The first week after I got the car (truck?) I had to take it back to Chevy for warranty work: it tracked all over the road. Turned out: the front end was made wrong, the frame holes for the lower control arm on the right side were over 1/2" out of position. They just jammed the adjustments all the way to one side to make it steer straight-ish and gave it back to me, telling me "that's the best we can do". Uh-huh...brand new GM car.

I drove it down to college (170 miles away) the next week, stopping for gas at the 100-mile mark because it was EMPTY. Turns out, it had a little 16-gallon tank (17 really, but the last gallon is below the fuel outlet's hole) with a monster-thirsty engine. Uh-huh. Needs premium gas, too, or it pings like there's something loose inside the cylinders.

Then I took it to a local old guy in Macomb (at college - grey hair counts, to me...) who "knows Chevies" and he removed the right lower control arm, welded the subframe crossmember shut with a couple of hand-made metal discs, and bored the mount holes in the RIGHT position, so he could align the front end correctly. Not warranty: had to pay [a lot in 1971 $$] to get this fixed. Then we notice: the right front wheel is bent - these were the semi-custom 5-spoke GM 'mags' of the day, color-matched to your car, quite the expensive option. So, call the dealer back: they will order a wheel. The next month it comes, and I go to Chicago to get it: not painted. OK, they will paint it today, come for it tomorrow. Next day I get it: does not match the other 3, nor the car, at least 2 shades lighter. Have to take it, school on Monday looms. No, they won't do it over. I've had this car now 50 days. Uh-huh.

In November (car is 3 months old), puddles of oil appear under the engine, and the clutch slips. It has 6000 miles on it, now. Dealer says, "warranty is 90 days or 3,000 miles", so I have to appeal to the Chicago dealer. I do, local dealer tells me the engine must come out for a new rear main seal. They pull the engine the next week as I ride my 750 through the snowstorms to get to work: well, they don't have this type of seal, have to order it - from Detroit.  Uh-huh.

Three weeks later, my car and engine are still in the same stall at this local dealership. They can't get the seal, they say. I mention this to the above-mentioned "old guy who knows Chevies" and he comes across town to the dealer, walks into their part department, and picks a seal off the shelf, walks it out to the Service Manager and tells him it will fit my engine. (Side note: I also work on the "old guy's" CB750 for him from time to time...). The Service Manager has that deer-in-the-headlights look, takes it to the engine where we all look at it and, gee...it's the right one.   Uh-huh.

A week later I get the car back, head to Peoria to get some 750 parts there. About 80 miles enroute, all the belts fly off the engine, at 11 PM in a tiny farming town. A kindly person from the house on the road where I am stopped offers that he can call the gas station (only one in town) owner and he will come out (really?), and he does (!) at midnight. This teaches me a lesson in "customer service" that I have NEVER forgotten since...he installs all new belts for me in 30 minutes, charges me for the belts and $10 - I give him $20. On the return trip to Macomb, all the belts fly off as I pull into town: total belt life was 125 miles before something destroyed them. Uh-huh.

Next day, I get all new belts and install myself. Something does not look right for the power steering belt, but I have to go to Missouri the next day. Take extra belts and tools, hit the road, hauling a CB350 in the back (to my brother). Get 85 miles out, one belt lets go and WHAPS the inside of the hood, so I stop: it is the one on the A/C pump, so I lose my cold-air defroster for the trip. Can live with that. Get to my destination (350 miles) and open the hood: the power steering belt is frayed like it has 100,000 miles on it. Uh-huh.

Pull off the power steering pump: the morons at the dealership had installed the mount bolts in each other's holes during engine reinstallation, then stripped the bracket with their cross-torque force. Have to remove the bracket, make new bolts, drill out the threads and use nuts instead. The car now has 8,000 miles on it. The misaligned, flapping power steering belt was hitting the other belts, causing the problems. Had to fix it myself. Uh-huh.

In December and January I have to drive to Chicago 6 times, and Missouri once. By February it has 12,000 miles on it. I drive to the campus one late February day, then find I cannot get the shifter into Reverse: and, you cannot get the key out of the Ignition until you shift to Reverse. Lock up with my spare key and a towel over the still-inserted one, go to a garage in town to get up on a lift, and pull out the shifter: the reverse pusher-spring cylinder is completely rusted tight, happened between Friday and Monday. I remove 2/3 of the spring inside and reinstall the switch housing so as to still have backup lights, filling it with grease against future water: there is NO SEAL of any kind on this switch, under the car. Uh-huh.

Three days later (March 1), I chase after someone at a stoplight drag and when hitting 3rd gear, the knob (tee handle) breaks off the shifter. Bust my knuckles into the plastic dashboard, which also cracks across its face, clear to the glovebox. Uh-huh.

I get a new shift lever (only $108 in 1972 $$) and install it, and park the thing in front of my house with a For Sale sign in the window. It has 13,000 miles on it. I paid nearly $4000 for it, less than 8 months before. The paint if coming off the hood in 4" large chunks, the front end needs alignment (again), the clutches in the posi-trac differential are slipping (both sides), the rear main seal leaks puddles in minutes, which has ruined the clutch and pressure plate, the front main seal is leaking in a stream when it runs, the carb has caught fire numerous times (because you have to drop the clutch on it to shut it off, or it won't stop chugging), and the tires are bald. The first guy who offers me over $2000 takes it away.

I went to Iowa the next week and bought a Toyota. I've wished GMs on my enemies ever since. Now, the government owns them (despite what the Press says about it).

Uh-huh.

[Damfino]

Whew Mark!  After reading that all I can say is....Uh-huh! 

[bjbuchanan]

Shoulda bought a corvair

Air cooled, tough as nails. Got a bad rap is all. People would regularly tell me they are illegal for the road, I would tell them "I'm just that good I guess, huh?"

[HondaMan]

Shoulda bought a corvair

Air cooled, tough as nails. Got a bad rap is all. People would regularly tell me they are illegal for the road, I would tell them "I'm just that good I guess, huh?"

Now, THERE is (was) a cool GM! My grandparents (who raised me) had one, and I tried to rebuild one (it was too far 'gone') in 1970, loved those little scramblers! There is a guy next to my favorite bike shop here who has a shop called "Rear Engine Specialists" who works on them and REALLY knows them. I go by there now and again to talk to him: he puts my Transistor Ignitions in some of them for his customers. I make red ones, green ones, and silver ones just for those cars.

Myself, I've ended up having the best luck with Fords over the years. Maybe I just understand them better? Dunno...got 4 of them in the driveway, now: Lincoln, Explorer, Fairmont (my daily driver), and a 1967 2-door fastback Galaxie LTD, a very cool car. Need to sell one or two, out of space!

[tomkimberly]

Hondaman, I once worked for GM (AC Delco), the stories I could tell......

Never again will I even consider a GM product.

Honda or Toyota, nothing else.

BTW, to those who do not know, almost all Toyota engines are made by Yamaha.


Tom K.

[HondaMan]

BTW, to those who do not know, almost all Toyota engines are made by Yamaha.

Boy, does THAT explain a lot!

[bjbuchanan]

Shoulda bought a corvair

Air cooled, tough as nails. Got a bad rap is all. People would regularly tell me they are illegal for the road, I would tell them "I'm just that good I guess, huh?"

Now, THERE is (was) a cool GM! My grandparents (who raised me) had one, and I tried to rebuild one (it was too far 'gone') in 1970, loved those little scramblers! There is a guy next to my favorite bike shop here who has a shop called "Rear Engine Specialists" who works on them and REALLY knows them. I go by there now and again to talk to him: he puts my Transistor Ignitions in some of them for his customers. I make red ones, green ones, and silver ones just for those cars.

Myself, I've ended up having the best luck with Fords over the years. Maybe I just understand them better? Dunno...got 4 of them in the driveway, now: Lincoln, Explorer, Fairmont (my daily driver), and a 1967 2-door fastback Galaxie LTD, a very cool car. Need to sell one or two, out of space!

I'm a Ford guy too, I don't care what the stupid jokes are I think they are better machines period. Chevy will stick with something for absolute ages and develop and develop but out of the gate I think Ford does better comparably. You just see more innovation normally. I mean for god's sake the modern v8 they make is STILL a pushrod engine. They really have pushed the envelope more than anybody has with a pushrod but come on, 25 yrs ago everybody else jumped the boat for efficiency

Anyways, rant off

The corvair was tons of fun and that 2 speed powerglide was tough, as any powerglide is. I would put my little cousin in it and dump down in to first at 5k and get some wiggles going on. Rear engine can't do a burnout but they do get wiggly.

From my time on the scene that rear engine specialties guy is a good vendor, pricey with cool stuff but a good vendor. The corvair has a kinda cheap scene as the forgotten classic (with markedly lower prices) but he has some really cool stuff, funny how I would brush up against someone from both markets

[scottly]

My sister came to me, complaining that her 1964 Corvair wasn't running right; it wouldn't go over 55 MPH on the freeway. Oh, yeah, it's smoking, too.
The initial problem was caused by a faulty vacuum modulator that prevented the 'glide from up-shifting. The real damage was due to my sister running the poor car WFO in first gear for 30+ miles.