The Jalopy Journal
Discussion in 'The Hokey Ass Message Board' started by deto, Nov 11, 2010.
You did all that and didn't film (video) it? Coulda been a big hit!
Back in the 80s I was lucky to find a old hot rod in pieces, a '33 Ford five window, in Manchester, NH. Worked on the car all winter and my partner, the D of DJ's Louver Service, and I were to go to York, PA to the NSRA meet that June. Thursday night before the event we were still bolting stuff on the car. Friday after work we took off in a driving rain storm. Got down in CT on I-84 and it was raining so hard I decided we'd stay the night at a motel and leave early Saturday morning for York. We got off the interstate and found a motel but when I tried to make a right turn into the motel, the car would only turn a few degrees. Had to back up and turn several times to get into motel parking lot. We parked, got the room and while I was in the lobby, Dick started looking at the front end. I returned to the car to find him sitting on the curb, just staring at the ground. When he finally spoke to me, it seems no one had set the jam nuts on the draglink and when we stopped at the motel, there was only a thread or two left before we would have had no steering, while traveling on a wet interstate in the dark at 70 mph. We can look back now, a couple of decades later, and joke about it. But at the time, when the reality sunk in, it was pretty damn terrifying. Now everything gets double checked without exception.
How are any of us still here?
A few years ago i had a O/T 4x4 truck that i was taking both differentials from for my other truck. I had the rear out and had to slap another diff under the rear so I could haul it to the junkyard. I tried to use a old bumper jack on the rear of the frame to lift it up enough to slide the diff into place,well after the ass end of the truck tipped over while I was jacking the truck up I decided to go a different route and break out the engine hoist.
Those of you who know me on a personal level know that I have lots of scars. I call them reminders.
Okay, raise your hand of you know what a "ground squirrel" is. I beleive they are actually called a striped back gray squirrel or some other cutesy shit like that, but in tallahassee florida, they are "ground squirrels", and one of those little bastards tried to kill me.
See, the ground squirrel isn't nearly as arboreal (tree livin, cleatus) as their native buddies. they are quick, and that is their primary means of defense. in the winter months, rather than finding some idyllic nesting place like a hole in a tree, or your attic, they don't typically nest more than about 3 feet in the ground. these little meanaces to society love mufflers.
okay. raise your hand if you know what a honda trail 50 is. A modern masterpeice of 2 stroke ingenutiy from our friends from japan, the honda trail 50 had alot of punch stuffed into the chassis (that's the frame, Cleatus) of a childrens size motorcycle. provided, of course, you could get it into the powerband, which started at about 3000 r.p.m.'s. it didn't really have a "muffler"- it had what our friend from japan referred to as an "expansion chamber" which is pivotal in the scavenging effect of a 2 stroke engine. thats why the little bastards sound like chainsaw on crack.
in the event a member of the rodent species (them's rats and such, Cleatus.) decides to nest in one of them, The repairman has the daunting task of pickind various bits of detritus (that's leaves and stuff, cleatus.) out of the pipe through a hole about the size a salt shaker. no fun, and you get a lap full of rat shit every time. an experienced rider in the region knows the easiest way to hinder this from happening revolves around the use of 1 (one) redish "super bouncy ball" from target, wal mart, or the convinence store of your choosing.
step 1. fire up the bike.
step 2. rev the hell out of it to get the test pipe good and hot.
step 3.turn off bike and jam the ball into the end of the test pipe, causing it to melt a nice circle into it, about 1/2 way into the ball to assure a good seal. drain the gas and store it for all 4 weeks of winter.
see, children do things they aren't supposed to do, such as go for a ride on their bike after school when dad is at work. and sometimes, they screw up by doing thing like accidentally stuffing the ball onto the test pipe too many times, creating a nearly pefect plug for the test pipe. no problem...just stuff the plug into the test pipe, install a new one, and nobody is the wiser!
thus my story begins.....
I was working at A.C.S. in talahassee florida. it's a super high end shop full of exotic cars and various restorations. such as the 1958 corvette I had just finished polishing after a grueling amount of wet sanding. I needed to stand up straight a bit, so I wandered into the bike shop for a bit to stretch out. inside was Jerry, the owner and chief motorcycle ninja. he was having a moment of enragement because he couldn't figure out what the heck was going on with his sons tricked out Honda trail 50.
have I mentioned I am not...AM NOT a motorcycle mechanic?
in a moment of genius, I announced that I would fix this bike. I decided that the clutches were sticking together ( becuase, you know, things like that happen in 4 weeks of 50 degree weather...in an alternate reality somewhere.) because the bike would idle, but not get out the power band.
I rolled the bike outside to the parking lot, and sat astride the wee monster. sort of. 1 foot on the ground, the other on the footpeg nearest the gear selector shaft.
did I mention that the bike had been idling for some time now?
I gave the bike a little gas and instead of "ring, ringedeededee," it just went "wonk, wooonk" like a saxaphone stuck on the anus of an elephant. I then shifted the bike into first, which egaged with a happy little "clunk" and eased the clutch out. no throttle, only pulling a little. I rocked the bike back and forth a couple times, and wisely, gave it some gas. "wonk".
little more gas. it was starting to try to pull now. "woonk".
a little more gas (okay, a lot more. )"WOOOONK".
It was at that exact moment the ground squirrels of Talahassee florida got their revenge against a mild mannered man from Texas.
see, the previously mentioned "anti squirrel nesting device" had melted juuust enough to exit the test pipe with considerable force and moxy. it was described as " a red streak which exited the rear of the vehicle with considerable force which was never to be seen again."
"woooonk" instantly turned into "REEEEE!!!!!!" and the little engine that could belted out all 35 of it's horsepower.
with me on it.
the bike stood straight up, and did the most perfect "any given sunday" wheelie you could dream of. problem was, my clutch hand was on the back of the bike. and my gas hand...well, when the bike stood up, it actually backed the throttle off a tick, which was when my lightning fast reflexes told my body what to do...get over the motor with my chest to the tank, which , in turn, pegged said throttle. and turned the bike 50 degrees hard port...and pointed me and the bike at a freshly restored corvette.
"lay it down. LAY IT DOWN! LAAAY IT DOOOOWN" screamed, so I did just that. the wrong way. meaning that instead of letting go of the throttle, I kept it pinned while manouvering into a tight little circle. which ended with the footpeg hitting the asphault, and ramming the triple trees of the bike into my balls at around 35 m.p.h., which then threw me onto the "business side" of the bike, chest first into the test pipe, while allowing for enough of the rest of me to get some road rash in fun places such as my forehead and ankle knob.
I HATE ground squirrels.
I was OK until I read that line. Damn near fell out of the chair laughing.
great stories folks, keep 'em coming.
I was loading a Yamaha Warrior 4 wheeler in the back of my dually. Had to give it just enough gas for it to go in the bed and not the bed box. Killed it short, dumped the clutch hung the throttle, big mistake. We shot up in the air and landed in the street with the bike on top. Cracked my tailbone. Those damn straps on ramps ain't meant for that kind of abuse.
Had a 4x4 o/t truck, the hood latch would catch. So a I took a chain and hairpin from a hood pin set and tied the hood down. A friend of mine and me took of to see another friend. Running about 45 the hoods flies up against the windshield and come to a screeching halt. Drove the last 2 miles to his house backwards. The look on their faces when we got there was comical.
my buddy came over one time in his 68 camaro with a 671 blown small block, i just about shit my self when i saw the rubber band instead of a throttle return spring!!
I had my drag car with a parachute, I wanted a picture of the chute billowing nicely behind the car. So me and a few guys went out in the sticks at a car show event, left a guy or 2 at the finish line and made a 90 MPH pass down a farm black top and pulled the chute. Well if you have pulled a chute you know the feeling, the chute hits and you get a little bump from it slowing you down, that part went OK. The part where it hooked on the farmers beefed into the ground sick of kids ripping it up mail box felt a hell of a lot out of place. Instead of a few nice pics of a chute billowing we ended up with a picture of a mail box attacking a chute, losing badly, getting launched up in the air 60 feet and a shredded fucked up 600 dollar chute flopping around behind a drag car with a driver who looks like he just shit his pants in the drivers seat. The farmer saw this and came running out over it, when he got to us he was laughing his ass off. We bought him a new box and installed it the next weekend. I never bought another chute.
hahaha... I hate ground squirrels...
Sounds like the stupid zoomies that are on my hot rod truck. nothing like getting sick and smelling like shit every time i drive it.
these are all incredible
This may be true, but I still wont admit it.
At age 13 or so my friends and i used to soak tennis balls in gasoline, light them on fire and whip them at each other with oven mits.
18 and working at a Gm dealership cleaning cars. My 71 duster with a leaning tower of power is shitting its second trans so I have to replace it hastily over the weekend in a gravel drive because it was my only transportation. Everything semed fine but car wouldnt turn over every now and then. About a week later I am making a left turn into work running late so clipping right along and steering wheel locks with me heading toward front row of new park avenues. I missed them by inches. I get the car to the back lot and opened the hood to find the starter fell out and dropped down and wedged between k member and steering linkage. must not have tightened bolt and nut.
About 6-7 years ago i had a stripped down 80s monte ss I drag raced for a couple years at the local track. Was racing all weekend so Friday night after time runs I locked up car and trailer and went home. I came back next day and started getting ready and realized I locked keys in car with no spares. I had no luck with coat hangers so the only way I figured I was gonna get the keys short of breaking a window was taking off heater core block off plate on firewall and climbing through. So i jump over fender standing over the tire (no fenderwells)look around to make sure no one is close enough to see what i am doing and climb through firewall arms first. of coarse it is a drag car so no need to keep power looks working so i am to my waist in firewall with my upper body contorted enough so I could reach doorlock knob. Good thing the glove box was removed and lower hinge bar.it took me about 3 minutes to fish my way back out scratched to shit and torn t-shirt as they call my class to the line for time runs. I went 3 rounds that day and then about mid afternoon after losing i sat on the fender of my buddys open trailer for the next 4-5 hours with my back to the sun drinking beer and bsing. Next morning i awoke to extreme burning on my left shoulder blade. My ripped t shirt exposed my pasty white skin to the sun and i was left with a fist sized sunburned spot on my back. Worst part is dumb ass me locked the doors a second time and had to repeat firewall entrance the following day.
bottle jack under the rear axle of the 60 cheve.....Removed the rear wheel and crawled uder for a slight repair.
Came back out and the bottle jack slipped and the rear came to the ground. No one ther but me.
Would have been DRT back in 70
A Honda 50 does not have anywhere near 35-hp.
there is some funny ass post here...well heres mine..at 21 i saved my money for a car i had to have a 85 cutlass salon well i had it on the road 2 days and i blew the engine drag raceing a friend...at least i won..well i went to the junk yard and pulled a 307 out of a 80 olds tornado and over a few weeks i rebuilt it and did tons of extra work.. gasket match port polish etc...well i felt after i had it in the car and runing something was missing..hmm but what? so i hit the parts store and look around well what do ya know i found what i needed a edelbrock air filter the dimond shaped one with the foam filter so my cars all done well less then a week later im out playing around havin fun its 12:45 and i figure i better get some beer so i park at the store get my beer and hop back in the car well when i try to start it up it poped back out the carb thinking nothin of it i keep turning it over when i see some flames under the hood well thinkg safty first i push the car far away from the gas pumps and go to pop the hood well guess what happin i look im my had and what do i see the handle riped off with about 12 inchs of cord and the hood diddint pop so what can i do...i kick one of the grills out cram my hand up and try to get it popped but no luck so i keeped going at it just then a cop walks up and asked if i needed help i said nope im good when just then the fuel line melted and presto i had light to see but bad part is i still had my arm in the grill so the cop just grabed me and riped me out and away so i could watch my cool car turn into a hot rod well the cop was cool he asked if i had any thing in the trunk to save cous it this time the fire had the car from the front seats up burning..i said i have a 12 pack of beer and 200 dollers of fireworks well he went and got it all for me gave me the beer and said its ok drink up lol but i got 3000 from the insurence companey and bought me a nice fuel injection mustang
Got one even better .When i was about 16 myself and 2 freinds hoped a free ride on the tail gate of a 72 Chevy pickup ,because we were tired of walking at night .The guy that was driving and gave us a ride misunderstood where we wanted to be dropped at and kept going.My 2 freinds dared me to jump at 25 mph.I accepted the challenge (mainly to show off) and went for it .I thought i would be smart and get my feet moving while hanging off the side of the truck to get a head start on the gravel road.It didnt work and i hit hard on my face and elbows.Was digging small rocks out from under my skin on my face and arms afterwards .Its a wonder i didnt break my neck ,as i barrel rolled several times .I also used to set 12 gauge shells on a fence post and shoot the primers with a pellet gun from about 20 feet away and hit 22 rimfires with a hammer when i was about 13 ...
1:30 in the mornin', my 2 Buddies and I are flying across the I-90 floating bridge between Bellevue and Seattle, in my '76 Dodge van, when my friend coaxes me to hit 100 mph because he wants to stand up in the van and see what it's like. All's cool as we hit land in Seattle, and rip into the I-90 tunnel. Shootin' out the other end like a watermelon seed, we're still doing 90+. Well DAMNED if there wasn't a COP on the other side of the road giving some guy a ticket. So naturally I take the first exit I can off of I-90, but it"s a HUGE horseshoe of an off ramp, 5 stories high. I'm breaking, steering, and praying as hard as I can as I start my turn, right away I feel the right 2 wheels starting to come off the ground, as my Buddies scramble for the high side. I HAVE to straighten out the wheel to keep from flipping the van over the edge of the off ramp. This plants all wheels back on the ground, but now I'm heading straight for the guard rail. So I kick it back to the right towards the turn. instantly I feel the right side wheels starting to lift again. I jerk it to the left again to get back on all fours, but there's that wall again... and so it goes down that whole off ramp, left...right...2 wheels...4 wheels...at the bottom of the ramp I hook a U-turn trying to loose the COP I expect is HOT on my tail. Sure enough I look up the off ramp, and there he is, lights a flashin", I'm cooked. There's no out running his radio, so I pull over before he's upon us. As he pulls up I jump out and say "Thank God you're here, my throttle stuck, and I thought we were going to DIE". He wasn't quite buying it, so he gave me the choice of drive home with a "Reckless driving ticket", or have it towed home with a "Driving a Faulty Vehicle" ticket. I told him to call the tow truck. When it showed up, and the COP left, I begged the tow guy to not tow my van, and he said, "What van?". Get lost.
We all work as pump jocks, so I took a Repair Order form from work, and filled it all out to read I had my motor mounts fixed and the problem was gone. Then took it to the Magistrate and had it thrown out.
Please tell me Ed did the work on my truck.
Back in the early 70s I bought a 64 Ford Galaxie for 300.00( good old days), had a 390 4 speed in it. Me and a buddy were drinking and went to get some more beer, we were going back to his house in a trailer court, rough ass dirt road, I gassed it hard and grabbed second gear fishtailing all over the road, we hit a bump and knocked the tie rod out of the socket, I was spinning the wheel but it was freewheeling and veering to the left. We hit a parked car and knocked it into a trailer house knocking the trailer off the blocks and a big hole in the side of it, the owner comes running out saying WTF and then freaking out and saying dont call the cops, he was the local hardcore drug dealer and didnt want the cops anywhere around, that was fine with me, I was drunk and didnt want them either. I worked out a deal to pay him for the damages I caused and started paying him. He got busted a few months later for a bunch of drugs and took off. Last I heard he was still on the run, dont think he ever got caught and I never heard from him again...
back when I was growing up on my father farm we had a tractor that had the steering box gone bad. We put the tractor in the barn and decided to change the box out. We end up going to a local tractor junk yard and the guy there said he did not have that box but he had one that would work. Bought the box installed it. Things were not lining up right so we had to make some adjustments to make it fit.
Finished it up started the tractor and started backing it out of the barn. To get out of the barn I had to turn right. well the turn the wheel to the right and the tractor went left right under a storage loft and knock me out the tractor.
If you know how tractors works. you have a hand throttle and is geared low and will run over anything. The tractor went out though the barn and headed across the yard right past the house, across the road and was heading for the neighbors house. The hole time I was running after it. I finally caught up with it and jump on and got it stopped. The fun part was trying to drive it back home. My mon watch the hole thing go down.
From hitting the loft I ended up with a sprain neck. Had to were a neck brace for six weeks.
Another one. Growing up as a kid the thing to do is turn your bike into a chopper. So I did it to mine. got some pipe and welded them on the forks to extend the front end. put on a 12 inch front wheel and I was ready to go. I rode the bike about a week without and problem.
One day a bunch of us kids got together to ride around the neighborhood. Every thing was going well and I decided to take off and get in front of the rest of the kids. As I pedaled faster the front end came off the ground and that when I remember I forgot to tighten the front axle. The reason I remember is because as the front end came up I watch the front wheel roll down the road.
when the bike came back down the forks dug in the road and I hit the handle bars with my chest as I flew over them. want to talk about pain.
There are more.
A honda 50 may not have 3.5 horse power. hehe.
........What a great thread..........can't stop laughing.....
I have been laughing for an hour reading this and thought fit to contribute one of my earlier brushes w/ mortality:
I learned to drive a manual transmission at age 13-14 on a 1947 Massey-Ferguson tractor my uncle called "buster" (as in "ball buster"). It had that pan seat (no back) and the shifter stuck up right between your legs. It also had touchy brakes - hit them too fast and you caught the shifter with your tender bits... but pop the clutch and you didn't have a seatback to hold you in place. Like hotrod40 said - set the hand throttle and she chugged away on her own. You can probably see where this is going. I started out by learning to mow the field and driveway edges with a bush hog, a big mower deck that runs off the rear PTO and trundles behind you. On my first try, I was approaching the hill and hit the brakes a bit hard, catching the shifter in my junk and knocking the wind out of me. Already sensitive about using the brakes too hard, I decided to downshift going down the hill. I missed the lower gear (got a higher one) and my foot slipped off the clutch, causing the tractor to lurch HARD. I tumbled off the back, kissed the PTO and bounced off the bush hog deck (whew!) to land in a bruised heap on the ground. To add insult to injury, I then had to get up and chase the tractor down the hill (*&^%$# hand throttle) before it went into the river. My step-dad watched the whole thing and was laughing his ass off - had tears rolling down his cheeks. Mom didn't think it was too cool that her only son almost went under the bush hog.
This thread is great! Lol
Borrowed enough plywood and nails from homesites to build a soapbox-like car.
Flip top roof. Red/white/blue paintjob (first one we ever painted). Ball bearing wheels from baby carriages. Rebar axles, drilled for cotter pins. Foot-operated brakes (2 X 4's covered with rubber, pivot to rub on carriage wheels. Broomstick, wrapped with cord, for steering.
Milford, NJ, Hunterdon Hills, backroad, big hill, all the way up. About 1968.
Put our potatoes in: Scott will drive first. Me and Marky give him a good push.
Fast, very fast.
Car starts weaving, oh shit, death weave, across both lanes. Steering cord was loose.
Hits the brakes, brake parts fly all over the street, just before the car left the road and hit the barbed wire. Roof parts all over the ditch.
Trying to get him out of the barbed wire, an old lady stops and says "do you need a bandaid". Marky who's about 8, says to her " I think we need a fuckin ambulance"
I think Scott still has the barb wire stripes on his arm and gut. To this day, whenever we so something on the edge (often) one of us says "better tighten the steering".
A few years later, about 100 yds further down the hill, I think Scott had another episode in later years. He made it through, but that's a whole 'nother story.
Originally Posted by LUX BLUE
(snipped due to length)
Funny Story, but Cleatus, Honda Trail 50 is a four stroke, doesn't have an expansion chamber, doesn't go "ringa-dee-dee", doesn't have a clutch to dump, and doesn't have 35 horsepower.
that is my favorite part of this whole thread hahaha
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