Roadside repairs,,,everybodys got a story

Got a real quickie...driving home from the Louisville Nats in '99 we (wife and I) had just crossed from Indiana into Michigan on I-69. The pavement went from silky smooth to cracked and slabby at the state line. A few miles into Mich. and I here a distinct light tapping from the engine. After i checked the gauges and ignoring the noise for a couple miles my wifes asks about it. So then i pull off the side of the freeway and pop the hood. Of course with the traffic I can't hear a thing from the engine. So we drive to the next exit and get off, find a parking lot and stop. I open the hood again and can now very clearly hear a clicking noise. I'm hoping maybe a belt or at worse the alt. As i lean in to listen closer I place my hand on the dipstick; what the hey....? I can feel the tapping in the dipstick, so of course I pull it out, except it won't come out. So i pull harder and finally it "gives" away and pops out. The bottom of the dipstick is gone, from the top notch for the oil level down, and the last bit is bent 90 degrees. I think the crappy pavement, which made the car "buck" up and down got the dipstick whipping and it touched the crank and got bent so it was touching the crank and tapping. I put a new stick in it when i got home and have never gotten that piece out of the pan... Fastest roadside repair i've ever done.

 

I have owned more POS cars and trucks than I care to mention, so I have broken down a million times (at least!). Of those times , a few have been memorable...

I was in my first (of many) '57 Chevys, heading out with a buddy to a local cruise night, when the car stumbles and dies. We trace it to a fuel delivery problem and I quickly discover that it's a clogged filter inside the Rochester 2G. Problem is, I have no tools. On my walk to find tools I find a pair of pliers on the side of the road, so I returned to the car and pulled out the filter using the found pliers and a dime for a screwdriver. That one was easy.

I've made things from trash on the side of the road that would make McGuiver proud. Its funny how you always remember those trips. The ones that involve something breaking. What did we ever do without cell phones?

Spike

 

Coming back from the KKOA nats in '93 in my '54 Chevy on some highway in Tennessee I pulled over to help some dirtbags on the hard shoulder. It was after sundown and getting dark.
Turns out these guys were a bunch of hippies returning from a rainbow gathering.
They were complaining that their POS Buick Invicta was slowing down as it was going uphill and they could smell something burning. The stink and billowing smoke coming from their left rear wheel indicated a frozen wheel cylinder. I crimped the rear brake line and let loose the wheel cylinder and the shoes backed off. I told 'em the car "would drive but be mighty careful and drive slower than the 45 mph you normally do when being as redeyed as yourselves."
In their appreciation they invited me and my travel buddy to partake in their fine tweed. It was most relaxing and enjoyable, right there on the hard shoulder.
One of their party had been given the name, Johnny Potseed, it was his honorable duty to throw from his belly bag, hither and yon, the seeds that might germinate into ganga one day.


I told you I was a hippie.

 

Pistons 'n' Paint '04, Merc and myself take off for lunch in the Olds. We're about to roll out of the parking lot when Mike (oldcarpilot) yells at me that one of my gas tank straps is hangin' loose. Damn! I crawl under the car, seems it came unhooked, no idea how. So I shove it back in place and everything is good...

well a few months later, I'm cruising down 35 heading to my parents for something or other. Just cruising along, a decent amount of traffic but it's moving ok. I'm getting ready to exit and get onto a different highway, moving over to the right lane, when I hear a funny clunk and a dragging sound....WTF?? Car is still running...guages are all green...didn't run over anything...better take it one exit early and check it out.

I get off the highway and the only place to pull over is the entrance to a construction site. I pull in, get out and walk around the car. Holy shit! My gas tank is on the ground, hanging by the rubber fuel lines. I must have drug that thing 1/4 to 1/2 a mile!! One strap is still attached to the car, the other is gone. I look in the car...rope...wire....bungee cord! Thank god I only had about a quarter tank of gas, and a floor jack in the trunk. Got the other strap re-situated and used the bungee for the other. Made a new strap at the folks house and replaced the hoses. Later when I filled the tank, its leaked pretty bad around the sending unit, so I replaced that too.

Could have been bad....

oh, and not a roadside repair...but I drove an ex's '66 ford home to do the brakes....come up to the light, hit the brakes to stop the car, then set the e-brake quick to keep it stopped while the brake pedal slowly drops to the floor, and pop it in neutral. Light turns green, drop it back into gear, let off the e-brake and go. That was fun...

 

Swapped a rebuilt motor in my olds a couple years back. We moved the old motor into the corner, set it on some propped up bricks. Setting the motor down, the balancer hits the bricks and proceeds to fall apart. The rubber was desintegrated, the outter ring was completely loose. Never felt a thing in the car, no vibrations or anything....probably wouldn't have known untill it slid completely off into the timing cover or pulley. Bet that would have been pretty...

 

I really wanted to take my wagon and the shop guys to pistons and paint this year. I figured it would be a good time and we could FINALLY relax a little after the week before, so we did the usual pre trip check the tires, oil (looked a little low, so I will top it off and take some spares"just in case") belts, adjusted the linkage a little for highway drivin' on the center carb, changed pants, washed my hands, loaded up and we were off like a prom dress.

I was enjoying the hell outta driving my crew around in this fine example of an o.g.s.u.v. and noticing that everyone driving at us seemed to be paying alot of attention.(Huh! washing it paid off!) just cruising along at around 80...
then a trucker hit the air horns. I look in the rear view and HOLY CRAP!
either we are on fire or somethin' is leakin on the manifold...off the highway as the lifters begin to rattle.
pull into a shell station and we start to look for a leak and we find it.
it appears the the brass t fitting the previous owner had plumbed into the oil pressure sending unti had backed off. no problem, just grab one of the wrenches in the back and tighten it up(laziness pays off...I had a FULL set of tools that I got for my wife in the back..and had forgotten to take them out!)
touch the damn thing with the wrench and it promptly breaks off, leaving the threads in the oil filter adapter
simotaniously,three mechanics and one engineer all sya "OH SHIT."
Okay. don't panic...just think...ah ha!
hammer a screwdriver into the offending chunk and back it off! WRONG!
screwdriver simply scrares the innards of the brass out.
Pat says "Jam a twig in it."
it was all I could do not to smack him. I can fix this...
go to the back and dig around...Hey!Torx bits! lets try this...
hammer one into the peice and it backs out nice.
remove the electric sending unit, thread the capilary tubing into the adapter...nice! check the oil, add 3 quarts and off we go.
all patting ourselves on the back and such.
The egineer then says Hey! that only took 9 minutes!
funny how car stories go. from fucked to fixed in 9 minutes flat!

 

Few years ago we were coming back from an average swap meet in our tow vehicle, a diesel suburban, smell antifreeze, not gettin hot its late or early depending on how old ya are, screwit keep goin. Then the belts start sqealin, and it gets hot. Here we go,, and hand full of wrenches, middle of nowhere.
open the hood, antifreeze runnin out the weep hole in the water pump.

The only thing we had bought at the swap meet was a package of grease zerks, okat deal,, and I wasn't comin home empty handed. Pulled the pulley off, hammered zerks into both holes (broken rachet is an effective hammer), pumped it full of grease, dried the belts put it back together, up ended the washer fliud into the radiator and took off, sold the suburban a year later, never changed the water pump.

 

Duct tape is my friend


Not too many roadside repairs here.

Headlights went on friends Tbucket one night while we were doing 100mph! -very scary in the pitch dark-we drove to the nearest streetlighting and fixed the prob.

Have duct taped quite a few loose/broken things on a few rods at roadside.

Changed a fuel pump on friends 37 Chev Coupe at roadside.

Kept a leaking radatior patched for about 60mile trip by using exhaust manifold sealant-it bakes itself on, as well as expanding with the heat.

 

Boy . . . I have a bunch . . . but this is one of my favorites!

My uncle brought me out a 36 Chevy pickup -- when I was about 17 or so. Anyway, it was rusty as crap, but had a stocker 283 Chevy in it, 3 speed Chevy tranny and some rearend from hell. It still had the original "Stanley Meats" sign on it from the 30's . . . 4 digit phone numbers and all. (This was in the mid 70's).

Anyway, I ripped the motor apart, put a big Isky cam in it, headers, Edelbrock Torker manifold, 600 double pumper . . . you get the picture. This was now my transportation to junior college out in California. There wasn't another hot-rod in the 30,000 student parking lot like this beast! It was ugly, rusty, dirty and light . . . and really hauled ass for what it was.

Anyway . . . one day as I'm leaving the school parking lot . . .the damn throttle cable broke -- right on a major 6 lane highway! Shit! Guess what, you know, those cheap "spoon" repro throttle assemblies that had a cable like your old Schwin bike had? Lasts about 2 weeks when you have it bending every damn direction there is to reach the carb . . .

So WTF . . . how the hell am I going to get home? Am I going to call somebody? Who the hell has a cable to help me anyway . . . and there are girls to think about! Well . . . off go the stupid track shoes . . . strip off the shoe laces . . . and whah fucking lah . . . a new throttle cable!

Now . . . I sure as hell wasn't going to try to hook this up to the PITA spoon throttle . . . so I just threaded it through one of the numerous damn holes in the firewall (you know the ones where 4,000 degrees of exhaust heat come through!) and made a dandy nice "hand throttle".

Should have seen this cool dude . . . leaning down to work the shoe lace hand throttle . . . working the clutch . . . working the shifter . . . trying to steer the "gearbox from hell" . . . you get the picture. But DAMNIT . . . I made it home in rush hour on CrenshawBlvd in Torrance, CA . . . in time for my friends to pick me up to drink beer and chase some fine Hermosa Beach "spinners" . . . whooooo yaaaaaaaaaaah, now that's what I'm talkin about!

Damn I miss driving a car with a shoe-lace throttle . . . and let me tell yah about those "spinners"! . . . Ah, that's another story . . .

Bored&Stroked

 

My pal Tom and I were heading down I-15 in his 'ol cornbinder welding rig and run out of gas about a mile from the Yermo check station . We are both hung over from too much suds the night before and it's cold as hell outside . he jumps out to see if the old Lincoln SA 200 has any gas in it but it's dry as a bone . So what else do we have that will burn ? A -hah ,acetylene! You know that stuff you put in a balloon in high school metal shop and touched it off causing an explosion that got you expelled ? Shit, we had 50 ft. of welding hose ,a beatup journeyman cutting torch and a full red bottle . Tom asks if the 'binder will run on this stuff , "got to do something 'cause I'm to screwed up to walk down to that station " I reply as I string the hose down the side of the truck looping around door handles , antennas and west coast mirror brackets . Shivering my butt off I lift the hood , remove the grimy oil bath air cleaner and hang the torch into the carb. using a piece of 6011 welding rod to tie it to a heater hose and the choke bracket . I crack the Victor open about a half a turn and tell him to hit the starter and hold the pedal about halfway open , it lites off immediately and after doing some fine tuning between his foot and the fuel valve on that torch ,I slam the hood and away we go at about 3000 rpm , yeah it was a trip shifting that 4 speed but with him clutching and shifting and me turning the ignition off and on to simulate a throttle , we are cooking with gas ! Uneventful trip to the station , we pulled up to the pump , I go out and shut off the gas, engine dies and start wrapping up the hose , as the station manager does a triple take at what he had just seen ,but acted like he'd seen it everyday for a month . Oh yeah , don't even think about turning on the oxygen unless you want an permanent cure for your hangover!!

 

This one beats the living hell out of anything I've ever done . . . but I can see myself giving it a try. Hell - all you needed to do was jerry-rig that Victor pressure gauge to the throttle (maybe with a bit of my shoe laces) and you'l have a hell of a rig. Who knows . . . with just a weeeeeee bit of O2 . . . you might have a replacement for Nitro!

 

Snap To: That's the best story I've ever heard!!

Mine just scarred the hell outta me!

Coming back from GG Indy one year, I running about 85 on I-65 in KY, heading toward Nashville. My buddy is somewhere behind me pulling his 32 5W bracket car.

I'm in the hammer lane when all of a sudden, BANG!! Sounded like a tire blew!
The roadster started shaking so violently, the doors flew open. I touch the brake to slow down, and the pedal goes to the floor. OOOHHH shit!

None of the 5 asshole civilians in the right lane would open up and let me over, and a big truck on my ass, so I had to punch it up to the lead guy, who finally figured it out and motioned me over. Could barely steer the thing with the violent shake. Cut 'em all off, coasted to a stop, ass puckering the seat, and bailed out, figuring I had broke the QC or something.

WTF? No flats, driveshaft still in, wheels on. Went around that bitch twice.

Finally I see the RF caliper (I know, I know) wedged at the bottom of the wheel! Brake line ripped off. Yeah, a couple of pounds of caliper will throw the balance off.

Buddy finally gets there, and we decide to rig it and drive to the next exit.
Plugged the steel brake line at the frame fitting, got brakes, pulled out the caliper (it had broken off at the ears!?!?) and drove her on. Got to the exit, pulled the 32 off the trailer, loaded the roadster and went to N'ville. My buddy drove the bracket car 65 miles on home with the race tune and 4 something gears!

 

I've never had any major breakdowns in any non stock car, but I think that is because I usually carried every tool known to man when I went any distance in or on a modifed vehicle/bike.

Guaranteed, fact of life, you can't deny it: if you have the tool or part you need in the car with you, you'll never ever need it!

 

I was going to stay at a mates house the day before the Hayling Island Run (England) about 6 years ago in my 39 Convert.

I wan't having a good day as I'd already lost a hubcap on the motorway. I had to drive through Silverstone which unfortunately it was the Grand Prix the same weekend, I'd already travelled 80 miles with no problems.

I get pretty much through Silverstone Village, the traffic's moving Very slow and theres a big hill up ahead. I get not even half way up the hill and the car starts to die, I manage to get it half off the road but i'm causing a big obstruction for others to get past. So I'm sat on the radiator with my legs either side of the flatmotor working on the fuel pump as there's no fuel getting to the carb. The arm of the fuel pump looks worn so theres not much I can do but call a tow truck to take me to my mates house, as I know he's got a new pump there.

Seeing as I'm ready for the weekend - I pull out my fold up chair, get out my sandwiches, suncream and crack open a beer. Meanwhile - I'm causing the traffic to go even slower with most people slowing down for a better look or to offer stupid wise ass remarks. I'd waited about 2 hours already for the tow truck when a Cop turns up on his Motorbike - and says that I've got to get this thing off the road as I'm causing an obstruction. I reply that I'm waiting for a tow truck as there's not much else I can do. He says that he doesn't care and that the car has to be moved off the road NOW. I tell him politely that the car weighs at least 1/2 tonne - its on a hill and that he's very welcome to give me a push while I steer the car off the road. He goes red in the face mutters something under his breath and gets back on his bike. Fortunately the tow truck arrives and takes me to my mates house where we change the fuel pump in 5 minutes. I then take him to the garage where his 32 Roadster is stored, at night with my headlights pointing up in the air like searchlights (another story as this was the cars first real run after a few shakedown runs to test the brakes etc). The weekend was great, apart from the throttle sticking, and losing my lunch and hat on the way home when a Big truck went past. Oh and Fat Doug sat on my chair and broke it

cheers

Bob

 

About 10 years ago, I was on a week-long tour with my '37 coupe. About 2-days out, we were leaving the hotel , when upon shifting normal from 1st to second (3-speed, floor shift), the f'ng shift handle come off the tranny. I pulled her over to the side, pulled off the floor cover and found the hold-down tower thingy that compresses the spring, broke in half. I moved the tranny into 3rd gear and drove from mid-Pensylvannia to Maryland in 3rd. gear. When I got to Maryland, I called my son-in-law to get a replacement off a spare tranny I had and next day air ship it to me. I got it, installed it and finished the tour. I figured the clutch plate & flywheel would be junk after driving all that way in 3rd gear, but there wasn't any damage done.


Luck is better than skill......EVERY time !!

 

Great thread, especially using acetylene gas for for fuel!! On the way to the LA Roadster show this year in my old blue deuce roadster with the Lake Area Roadster Club (9 cars), we all seemed to have some trouble. I had more than my share. On the way out we stopped in Santa Rosa to see Vern Tardel's shop (Vern is the greatest!!) and do some repairs on one of the guys cars (brake shoe pivot bolt fell out/into the drum on the back of his '36 roadster). Anyway we had a great time with Vern and headed to the Flamingo Hotel for the night. Just before we get there my wife notices that the carpet is soaked, and dammit it's anti-freeze so that means the heater core is leaking. No big deal, I'll by-pass it when I get to the motel. Crusing to the room through the parking lot after checking in, I slow waaay down for the first speed bump - OK and then to the next one a little faster - bam#@$!! I nailed the the drain plug on my cast (stupid) aluminum oil pan. I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. No luck, it was gushing out of a crack from the drain plug up the back of the pan. We all had plenty of tools (for the 5000 mile roundtrip), a little floor jack, oil and a drain pan, so first I pulled the heater hose off and hooked it back up to the water pump while frying my hands in the hot anti-freeze and generally making a big mess in the parking lot. Then I dumped the oil and pulled the pan off. By then it was dark and about 9 PM and Vern was coming over to the hotel for dinner with us so we went to eat. After dinner we headed back to Vern's shop to fire up his TIG and my good friend and ace welder Randy G. went to work on the pan. First try it still leaked a little so he burned her in good the second time to seal it up. While waiting for it to cool, we bullshitted with Vern and had a good time. We finally left after midnight and headed back to the hotel. I slapped the pan back on (thank God for the reusable Fel-Pro pan gasket I used) and filled it back up with oil, packed the tools and cleaned up the oil slick in the hotel parking lot. I made it to bed at 2 AM and was ready for the last day of driving into LA. The Roadster Show was great as always, but my luck was better that my friend Bob P. who was driving his friend John's black suede Deuce Roadster from Missouri with a Mullins trailer in tow. They almost made it all the way in until they got rearended by a Ford pickup (doing about 70 MPH) which shoved them into the back of a truck on I-10 a few miles from the fairgrounds. They got out without a scratch (or fire), but there was about 30 feet of gas all around the car when they climbed out. Very, very lucky. My luck didn't get much better either. The wife and I decided to run down to Ruby's Diner on the Huntington Beach pier for supper before we left town the next morning. On the way down I noticed that a noisy lifter was getting louder despite trying my best to ignore it. After a great burger and fries we headed back up to Diamond Bar to the hotel. It was banging pretty bad by the time we got there. So out come the tools, off the goes the valve cover and I see I have a two piece roller (blue Pro-Form) roller rocker. Apparently not the hot ticket with 37K on the motor. By then its 9 PM and not a parts store is open in LA on Sunday night. The rest of the gang pulled out at 5 AM to try to beat the heat and traffic on I-15 the next morning. The next day the fellow pages helped me locate Bob, a retired sheirffs deputy who delivered me to the parts store to get a rocker arm so I could start the drive back to South Dakota. (By the way, I caught the heat - it was a lovely 112 degrees in Needles when I stopped for gas at noon!)

 

The throttle cable broke on my model A pickup comming home from Winston Salem back in the seventys and I used the detachable sholder strap from Mrs. HRP's pocketbook,,,,and used it as a hand throttle like C9 ,,,,,it got us home! HRP

 

I was driving my '62 Pontiac Tempest through the middle of Indianapolis about 2:30am on the way to the "Feast of Tabernacles" in French Lick. There were no other cars on the road except an 18-wheeler ahead of me. Suddenly, he swerved for no apparent reason. Just as suddenly, WHAM! A dear wiped out the front of the car. I was able to make it to a motel at the next exit before the slant 4 overheated too badly. The next morning, the motel owner told me there was a stripped and abandoned Toyota Tercel behind the building. I shoe-stringed it's itty-bitty radiator where my mangled one had been. Then I went to Wal-mart and got two 5-gallon water bladders. I used them to refill the little radiator about every 15 minutes. When I finally got to my destination, a friend UPS'd a radiator from my 63 Buick Skylark, which fit perfectly. The oddest thing about this whole story is why anyone would decide to name their town, "French Lick."

 

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!!!

Ha! i was just about to post my story! A buddy and both our girlfriends had been cruising around just looking for something to do; we get back to my buddy's hotel room (longer story...) and chill there for a while. When i went back out to take my girl home, i noticed a huge pool under the back of the car, that turned out to be gas. Had my girlfriend help me chew a whole pack of gum to fix the hole. Ended up just having it flushed and sealed. The only other real bad breakdown ive had is when i spun the guts out of the same car's rear end. Had to have it towed that time...

 

A couple of years ago I was working out in the garage and was getting frustrated with what I was working on. I decided to be spontaneous and get up early the next morning to drive to a rod run about 4 hours away. That night, I threw my socket set and a jack and some other tools behind the seat of my 55 chevy pickup.
The next morning, I got up at 4:30 and headed out to the coast. I was heading down I-5 at my usual 75- 80 mph and there was a reader board saying that the freeway was closed due to a fatality collision three exits away. I decide that I will get off on the next exit and take highway 99 around the problem. As I was traveling down 99 I noticed that my truck was pulling a little to the right when I hit the brakes. The next stoplight turned red I hit the brakes and my truck swapped lanes. I kept driving and it started to wander, so at the next intersection I pulled off into a lighted parking lot and I can barely control the direction of the truck.
I got out and looked underneath and the centerlink of my camaro clip is hanging down but the tie rod ends are attached to the steering arms. I found that my idler arm had come unbolted, and the bolts were long gone. Now its 5am, dark, and I'm stuck in an area that I am totally not familliar with. After sitting for a while trying to figure out what to do I decided to remove some other "non-essential" bolts to hold the idler in place long enough to limp home. Anything I could find that was big enough, didn't have removable nuts. My tools were totally useless.
I walked a few blocks in each direction and found an auto parts store but it didn't open for 4 hours. Anybody who I could call that early in the morning was out of town. Sitting in my truck, thumming through my wallet, I found my hagerty insurance card with a 24 hr protection number so I called to ask about towing and I explained that I didn't need a tow If I could just get a couple of bolts. Long story short, the guy at hagerty found a Home Depot 10 blocks from me that opened at 6am. That walk was the most satisfying 10 blocks (both ways) I ever walked. I got it put back together by 6:30 and was so pissed I just went back home.
The lucky part was that if the freeway would not have been closed that idler would have come off at 80mph on the freeway. I could have been killed. Its probably a good idea to keep an assortment of nuts and bolts in addition to a tool kit to avoid being stranded somewhere.

Dave

 

At the end of my "tour of duty" in diesel school, me and 2 budds, decide to make a roadtrip to Cleveland from Lima, Ohio. Borrowed a late model Chevy truck from my job to haul some personal shit and tow, my newly acqired 64' Dynamic 88.
Any-hoo, tollbooth monkey would not let us on turnpike, so we had to take back roads. Soon after, the fuel pump starts to leak at the weep hole. The truck finally breaks down on this two lane country road. I walk up to this farm house to ask for help. I walk into the kitchen and look around at pictures of sprint cars and trophy on the walls.
Long story short, we disconnect the Olds and nurse the truck into his barn, fully equipped with every piece of fab tool you could imagine. He calls his buddy from a local parts store, who opens his store, and brings over a new pump. I put it on in about 15 minutes and the truck ran fine. The guy charges me 10 buck!! and sends us on our way. WOW, twilight zone or what!
By the time we got to my parents, unloaded the stuff and car and hauled ass back to Lima, it was like 3 ayem. Definetly a trip from heaven and hell.
JT

 

My friend broke down a tire on the side of the road with nothing but a rock and a 2 x 4 for tools. No jack no nothing. This was on a deuce coupe.

 

Some great stories here, there's a bunch of 'em in my post (yeah all on one car!) from last year when i collected the '39. I think most of you have seen the post but if not....take a look.

http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=66760&highlight=32LIMEY

Kev.

 

Just had the experience of having a fuel pump crap out on the Jersey side of the Lincoln Tunnel. The cops got her flatbedded to the head of the tunnel on the island with assistance got the pump changed added some gas top off. Thankfully a couple of guys had the right size wrenches to make the job simple. My hardest thing was finding a 440 fuel pump we had to go back into Jersey to find one.

 

its a trail side repair but none the less its a goodun. me and a buddy are out wheelin around in his 78 power wagon. he has an unsecured tool box in the back of his truck and no tail gate. we climb this steep hill.. the box falls out (unknown to us) we don't notice until we are about a mile down the trail. anyhow he flips around and starts driving like a mad man down the trail. so I say hey man ya better slow down unless ya wanna break something. right after i say this the clutch pedal drops to the floor. the linkage fell off. and of course all the tools are in the tool box.. with no parts and no tools (except for a rusty crappy pair of vice grips) managed to put the rod back on and secure it with a beer can top, with my trusty pair of vice grips lol.

 

Bringing the thread back with this little dusey.

Bought this car with a broken leaf spring. Stuck this bad cat on and drove it 5.5 hrs home!
parts:
2 pieces of 68 camaro mono leaf cut into 8 inch sections
4 rural king trailer ubolts
2 pieces of puch mower
4 4inch sections of angle iron

(sorry the pic is so big not sure how to resize it)
P.s. cruised the car again today. thanks again Steven!

 

Yesterday, an in-law was driving and paying attention to livestock along a dirt road. Ran the right side wheels of the vehicle and trailer into the ditch. Blew out the wood side of the trailer. Rope and residential electrical wire tied things up well enough to get where we were going to do some agricultural work. Some pieces got jettisoned, tools went into the back of the vehicle; what else was left went into the refuse bin on the trailer we had used to bring water. I took video for the purpose of mapping the route. The event wasn't well captured.

 

I've lived around here (about an hour south) all my life and I have never figured that out! It is an awesome town with ALOT of history though.

sorry I know you posted this some 6 years ago haha

 

I've had to do a few roadside repairs. One time I had the headlight switch go out of my 77 Ford F100. Wound up ripping out some speaker wire and hooked up one headlamp and then drove the truck for another 3 hours. Another time I filled up the tank on the same truck with E-85. Ran like crap, took some wire and wired the choke 3/4s of the way shut. Truck ran ok but it sure sucked fuel.

 

this is not a repair story, but an interesting rescue.

I used to commute Fremont to Oakland, 40 miles a day, 5 days a week in my 61 Dodge Dart. one day just before I got to work I got a serious vibration coming from the motor and pulled to the side. found out later my crank had broke in two pieces on my trusty slanted six.

Called my buddy Jim who I had known since I was 12. only god knows how many broken cars we have flat towed in our many years as buddies. all he had was a Honda fuckpile at the time so we went back and got my other car and a good length of rope.

with me in the Dodge braking for both cars (we had this down, didn't even need to discuss the plan) we towed it back on East 14th / Martin Luther King Jr Blvd / Mission Blvd all the way to Fremont... 30 miles, 20 stoplights, great fun!

what made it fun was my 62 Caddy tow car. still got the Dodge, but the Caddy is long gone. Jim Passed away in 1993. I guess now I'd just call a tow truck

Here's the unlikely pair in front of my old house. Believe it or not, the Caddy fit in that little garage. I had about a foot to spare.