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Thread: 1964 Kaiser Willy's Jeep Gladiator J300 Pickup Truck "Cindy" Resto Mod Thread

  1. #41
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    The People

    We are forewarned. People just loving your jeep. Part of the duty of ownership. You assent to accept everyone loving your resto as much or in some ways more than you do. Excluding the Mrs. She once proclaimed that Cindy would be for weekends and date nights only. Let’s start there.

    I do remember well each time He grabs my tongue and inserts good words in place of whatever nonsense I would be prone to yowl. That particular time He said, “Honey, I love you. I love driving with you. On weekends and date nights in any vehicle, or just holding hands together. That truck is just what I drive to work.” Then she curtsied. Then I got a perfectly cooked pork chop. Go figure.

    One other time, I mistakenly said I loved Cindy, and took it back, I thought, in time. Yet, she heard me. Surprisingly she said, “No, it’s okay, you love her.” Then she stepped over a jeep part on the living room floor and walked her pretty little self about the place, my watching her every motion.

    That being said, the first time it happened I was in a left turn with a median and many lanes between that bus stop and me. If you stay in the sun here, you get tanned. So this overly tan gentleman occupying the bus waiting bench jumped up, “Hey Old School, Nice Truck!”. He was in the second lane and running towards me when I waived the stogie, smiled, and dropped the clutch.

    The homeless guy with his life in a backpack on some kind of probably motorized 20 speed bicycle gave me the High sign at a stop light, had the nerve to cut me off as he went to the rail, okay center ĺane, and the race was on! I caught him at the eighth mile and blew by him at the quarter - both of us laughing with a thumbs-up as I sped away the great victor.

    Then I was making a left turn on another day. Saw an old CJ coming at me no top no doors. It’s well over 100 degrees here in the desert. I’m waiting for him to pass by to make my turn, my a/c cranking. He took full advantage, slowing, sticking both arms, hands open and waving back and forth, along with his foot out the side, same back and forth with the foot as the hands. The grin on that guys face. I was cool, but dude deserved the wag of the stogie and a nod of respect to his CJ.

    At 110+, you can broil your appendages on any metal surface under the summer sun. So it did surprise when a construction van contraption with a trailer rolled up on my right side. Window open, arm as big as the side view mirror, laying on a chrome side window sill that must have been hot, too hot for leaning out inspecting my J300 badge. But that’s what this guy did. For a whole light cycle. Due to the fact that his skin didn’t melt, I did not acknowledge his big head sticking out the window.

    Then I was navigating cones in construction zones and two things happened. First, the cone setter was setting cones and when he saw the truck he pointed skyward with cones in his hands like he was directing an airplane on a runway – this was thick with people – lanes going this away and that away – and here is this dude doing a happy dance directing Cindy on through. Stogie wave.

    Time two is delicate. Given all that has happened, this is with proper respect to all involved. But I am a red blooded American who dropped his stogie one time. Let’s just say that sometimes there are enforcement officials supervising traffic wearing mirror glasses, about 5’2”, fitted uniform, braided hair pulled back, offering side view, who, with turn of head, lift of lenses, almond eye under a lifted brow – that’ll make you feel like offering to share handcuffs cause you are bad boy in a bad axe Jeep Truck. I smiled for five miles after, laughed for five miles, and didn’t miss any shifts either.
    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 04-17-2021 at 10:06 AM.

  2. #42
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019


    Suddenly my Cindy was worth real money. By more than quadrupling my initial spend, I had very nearly doubled Cindy’s value. It’s a very real problem in restos. When you figure your valuation. So valuable. It’ll keep you up nights with a flashlight under your pillow in situations of thieves, hoodlums, or curious onlookers venturing too nearby your beloved Kaiser Willy’s Jeep Gladiator Pickup Truck.

    Out of fear, I invented the fence. It’s worldwide. My research showed ‘Jeep’ Clubs in tons of towns, dotting that Darien gap trail all the way down the continent, from up here in North America down to Argentina even – yes they do have jeep gladiator original examples, hold jeep rendezvous down in South America, all the time. They moved production of the Tornado engine down there during the AMC years, I’m told. Lots of fans there locally, apparently. Well because Cindy could be put in a boxcar and in an hour be on her way, I had to act fast. It was also a good call against local hoodlums who wanted a joy ride, and international badge thieves who know that an original Rhino Grille can sell for $100’s online to eastern europe, and no way to intervene since the grille and chromes doesn’t have any identification numerology; no tags. See, later jeep j series owners only have to remove the plastic grilles from 67 onward to reveal the original metal jeep gladiator face – all they need is my original grille, cool light hole cover plates, and chrome light valences to get it done to look old school.

    It scared me to death thinking of Cindy suffering a piece-by-piece or wholesale “reverse resto”. For all these reasons – a fence was the perfect solution.

    You might say, hey idiot, park it in the garage? Well, she parks in there. Plus the oil leaks and old truck aromas are not popular with her. And I store valuable parts from the resto – the original radiator for an example, that someone might want some day. So it has to be external parking only.

    Yes, I ran over the fence. After getting new brakes. I left it like that. Then those questions came streaming in during the next month, such as “your brakes are not safe and what’s that about running over a fence”. By then my truck was back in the shop so I had time to “get back to you”.

    Let’s get into it.

    So the fence pieces are 8 foot sectional, manufactured, easily split dry pine, lightly stapled, traditional picket fence design, painted to match the desert brown coloration typical of the mid 60’s tract housing choreographic to the neighborhood where Cindy lives. Fence parts are cheap. They are ugly. They fit perfectly so as not to appear to be the defensive genius measures that they are.

    To create the desired perimeter effects, attach the fence only loosely together by one screw please, one screw only. This is per section, and only at the top, creating an outwardly normal looking fence look, while hiding the truth that the whole thing will collapse in on itself at the slightest hoodlum hand placement, while standing tall against the more constant dry desert winds.

    Also true, to accent this noise calamity feature, the fence should be secured so as not to creak nor squeak under normal operating conditions such as wind. The fence should, however, squeal like a stuck pig in the case of ill advised touching. And it should explode completely if the vehicle is pried out from behind it or when the vehicle strikes the fence, all aspects to complete the noise additional theft deterrent approach.

    The approach is also highly functional. Fence placement should be within one inch of the truck, to prevent hand placement at or near the original truck badging, to avoid unauthorized side badge removal. Also true, the fence should veer inward toward the roadside, to close off any access from the front bumper area while allowing safe maneuverability at the rear tire placement end of the vehicle containment system.

    Light the area with a day night illuminator such as will require 3 “D” cell batteries to eradicate the need for unnecessary wirings while providing modern security look and feel, such as a blue light and modern smoky lense covering. This should be attached using the minimum number of screws as it will need to be removed and replaced frequently at 120 degrees when the batteries melt. For this reason place the light fixture up and away from the truck paint it protects, similarly distant from the house itself, and over the gravel pit for maximum safety against the common problem of caustic drippage.

    Expert driving will be required to park the vehicle within the perimeter, as the opening is less than one inch per vehicle side, while the total area expands to slightly less than two inches at rear area between the garage wall post and the end of the fence post. Luckily, the intermediate area is wide open due to fence is only on one side, allowing maximum vehicle maneuverability during the parking sequence.

    To use the fence parking perimeter to maximum benefit, simply turn the no power steering long bed vehicle, clutch operated, into reverse gear, from street approach. Grind the gear loudly upon each entrance to discourage thieves who might otherwise think the vehicle operates properly. Miss the opening by approximately less than the one inch, to activate the noise defense system. You’ll park each time like a dream utilizing the flex design parameters built in to your fencing system! Because you have chosen utilitarian paint quality, there is no concern that the paint will scratch – it is too thick by application to be damaged. Perfectly noisy and perfectly effective!

    Upon exit, be aware of the outward facing flanges of bumpers. These may attach to the fence during transit resulting in either the back section of the fence dragging remaining frontal sections one at a time from their moorings as the truck drives down the street, or conversely, causing an accordion effect where the fence is condensed upon itself but still attached to the vehicle. Both of these circumstances are easily remedied by reattaching loose fence parts to each other and the moorings following original installation practices. Remember to unlatch the truck flange from the fence before disembarking for the final time.

    As ancillary security measure, upon exit pull the choke lever outward to maximum during start up. This will fumigate the area with blue gas, hard to breath, clearing it of thieves in the near vicinity of the activity. For those who might attempt a swoop theft maneuver, whereby they stay outside the lighted perimeter but attach a chain or similar under the vehicle, do the following to defeat any idea that the vehicle funtions normally: upon starting the vehicle, at various times of day to maximize neighborhood awareness, stomp on the gas at full choke, release the clutch with great variation, in and out, in and out, causing the vehicle to be lurching into the roadway before stalling. Repeat this strategy vehicle solo or with fence pieces attached, all the way down the street, in both directions, periodically. Pro Tip: varying departure times to ensure success of your vehicle theft deterrent strategy.

    The last time I exploded the fence is the only instructive example. It tells the whole story. My habit is to return to the parking area at a specific time of day. One time, I was preoccupied with the world, but had not crash landed recently. Therefore, when I flew in, the grinding into reverse and the revving up over the curb was notice of my arrival. Unfortunately, I blew the angle of approach. I hit that fence dead center. It not only exploded into my side yard, it also blew pieces on the neighbors side wall. Due to speed, and possible faulty brakes, the chain reaction included not just the front and middle sections, but the newly added third section of fence, all 24 feet were blowed apart loudly.
    I jumped out and fixed it but I did notice some curtains moving in the neighbors.

    So the next day when I arrived at the scheduled time it was a block party atmosphere. These days you can appear on social media doing such things, so I approached with caution, observing all I saw. Two ladies were chatting on the lawn, eyes toward the parking area. Another neighbor was out “watering”, also facing the gravel pit parking only zone. And my own beloved chose that moment to be “checking the mail and putting out the garbage honey”. I knew. I knew it. They wanted a first row seat at the calamity – they only wanted to see the crash – not to help with cleanup like normal neighbors. Well, not today. That time I parked that truck without a noise, without a clutch slippage, without having to repark. Yep. I did park that thing first try like nobody’s business, which it is not, I’ll tell you, except mine. I swear Cindy winked at me upon my swift exit, one motion lockup, step away from the jeep life and back into my life.

    Pictured: Paint, fence, smeared upon paint, jeep. Outward facing bumper flange. Early rare picture of fence, before fence restorations completed.
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    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 04-18-2021 at 04:09 PM.

  3. #43
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    Morals of story v2

    Wasn't satisfied with yesterday's version of the moral. So this is updated moralizing. Sort of a resto moral!

    Friends, I'm hoping to leave it better than I found it.

    Thatís my build, as of today.

    Thanks for reading!!!
    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 04-24-2021 at 08:39 AM.

  4. #44
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    Ole Fivers Driving Academy for Kaiser Willyís Jeep Drivers Ė ďDonít Fence Me In"

    Meep Ė Meep. Hay-Hay.

    So That: we all do well, that for which our vehicles are built Ė driving Ė this is another of many threads on the forum where drivers of old bad axe jeep trucks are welcome to gear down, shift on in, and idle awhile, cut the engine, have a road conference about the weather, life itself, and drivin Jeep.

    All posts welcome & thanks for reading!

  5. #45
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    Driving Lesson I

    Driving Lesson I

    Earlier mentioned was a neighbor who would fit right in among the best on this forum if he were a jeep guy, the same who taught me to drive this Jeep Truck.

    Yep. He was raised turning wrench. Runs some big deal yard to this day. Laments youths who will not pick up engine and transmission to carry across the bay, place it where work will be done, unlike how it was done handily in his day, by himself, and the people he has respected in his wrenching career, which includes those on teams building racetrack hotrods, from early on. If his brain is as big as his shoulders are wide, youíd be wise to listen, which is how it is if only you hear well enough. Therefore, I have been fortunate to do just that, listen, on a few occasions.

    When the truck arrives that first day, he was on the spot and knew a ton about the truck, including engine specs, better than some magazine articles Iíd read. He did not have time to research it, unless Iím mistaken. Must be he carries it up in his noodle container. Then he gave me magazine articles better than the ones I had read on my own Ė just better information. Better sources.

    So he reads. And he learns. That is how you punched your ticket in his day Ė by knowledge acquisition and knowledge retention, self-made. The kind of person you follow in line with now, automatically. Some of us are that person to others, but it was hard earned and scar bearing activities which earned us those stripes.

    He has it; Iím listening. And heís about to teach me to drive this infernal truck bedeviling my wits. I knew how to drive a clutch, though not this clutch truck, and he knew it. Hell, we both did. So, Iíve been fortunate to know a few of these guys in my life. One old head helped me with the purchase and operation of an old tractor.

    As an aside to accentuate a resto rule: later on I grew confident enough to rebuild the tractor carb on my own. I learned then the value of gasketry. Thing leaked and failed to operate well on a cardboard refurbishment of mine until I replaced the gasket with a proper OEM or aftermarket deal. Then it work good. Good deal! Our rule about buy quality parts once, a reminder. Even better, when I sold it on, it was the extra gaskets and all the fuel lines and electrical extras included, matching what I had fabricated on there, and the originals from the tractor in a different box, that sealed the deal. People do love all them extra parts, matching, sold with. Quality parts give credence to the machine.

    As for driving tractor, I almost deranged the old guy fifteen times by erratic head level wild bucket swings during road building as a novice light heavy weight equipment operator, but he never minded, even said it was good for the younger generation to learn tractoring. Told me like this, during break time meals on a roadside: ďeat slower and chewĒ. As he put it, ďmakes the food taste betterĒ, and is ďgood for the digestionĒ. His way of saying slow down and stop taking errant whacks at his head with the mochine. And, I did get good at driving that tractor.

    So the day I almost sold Cindy, out of spite, it was raining, which when that happens in a desert you go driving, hopefully in a Jeep. Similar to first snow up in the hills. Or a beach run after a hurricane. Weather happens and you drive jeep. So we did. You may recall the fiasco of several times when I drove it alone. So that was my expectation. This was gonna be a fiasco, wet version.

    Handed him the keys and he automatically flipped the key in his hand because Cindy takes the key ribs up. I paid closer attention thereafter. Didnít take long, either.

    Because she started right up. No fumes. No choke button. Nada. Just purring.

    Then we pulled out, in the rain mind you, No Grind in first. No clutch smell. No rattle from the bed. No dragging tires during braking. Second gear was as smooth as silk. Third gear was soft as the clouds above, and the rain on the windshield. By now my attention is rapt.

    This dude is actually going to go onto the boulevard first time in the crazy truck! The brakes worked, the clutch worked, the steering worked. Heck, even the lights worked! I almost puked out the window in disgust when he casually turned on the wipers. Yes. They worked too. This truck! Why? Why? Why wonít it run for me this way? He brought her home. Backed into the fence parking area no sound, no problem, no activation of the noise additional fence perimeter safety system. She did not even diesel after he shut her down.

    I never saw her behave that way. Cindy, my truck, actually liked this drive, this driver, which is why I almost sold her that day. This crazy Jeep Truck love! No way this is going down like this. But of course, it did. The truck operated perfectly when driven by someone who knew how to drive clutch.

  6. #46
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    Road Fix #2

    Six lanes to get across from a dead stop. Light about to turn green. Sticking ignition key of recent.

    You been where Iím sitting. Yep - Iíve got no clutch. Everything is quiet times like these. The calm.

    My intentions are to bobble head across a major roadway using only the starter motor when that light turns green, hoping to get just to over there using the electric motor if it happens that way, and the gasser if itíll kick. Same like one of these newfangled e-lectric hybrids, I reckon, because they use electric and gas engines in tandem, by real smart design, so how could it be wrong for me to do the same? Nothing new under the sun, is my view. I plan to embrace the modern thinking.

    Oh yes, Iím hunched up & ready. The past meets the future. Hoping my future is not insinuated into the grille of that city bus hurrying to beat the light in the near lane; and hoping itís not my vintage ride overtopping some modern Prius running the red. Cause Iím a cominí, squinty eyed, and hopeful to make it. Actually, Iím calculating whether I can execute the speed shift on my long throw column shifter from 1st to 2nd while the starter is powering the vehicle. Never tried that yet. I did it.

    Thereís good reason to swivel myself across come hell or high water, as you see I want to get home for supper. She does cook a fine meal and it has been my learning that I should like to eat it when itís hot and not a minute later, or suffer sequential disappointments that could interrupt my biologicals.

    Iím in the street within sight of the house where the dude lives who wouldnít sell me his vintage jeep truck with that window throwback I wanted, back when during acquisition, and since has sold it to someone else, not myself, and I happen to know they have seen this truck, and me in it, and danged if I am breaking down in front of there. Hey buddy, old pal, got some Dot 3 by any chance, for someone you wouldnít even sell your truck to for a generous offer well above list prices? Thatís enough motivation for me and my truck to skedaddle across.

    This actually began a couple of weeks ago. Someone on here who shall be named goes by the name of my friend bmorgil who thought up some vacuum issues related to vehicle braking and I knew it was only a matter of time before Cindy got afflicted with these problems again. Becajse he is normally right about what he claims though I deny it, routinely. And, mainly because the symptoms described did fit my truck to a ďTĒ. I donít know if itís just maintenance or a leaking hole or a loosened fitting. Whatever, Iíll deal with it. But it is spring and the days pass lazily, birds, bees, lemonades etc.

    The pedal got more ornery by the day. Wouldnít stay erect. The pedal engages the clutch less and less and more and more if you know about that. Like it engages momentarily and completely at the same time, then lays limp on the floor. Gotta be a fluid shortage, right? Itís an old truck. Anyway. Iíll get around to it. Sure, after this. It did remind me of the old days when my foot slipped under the pedal and clicked it back up, so I do have some muscle memory of a going bad clutch pedal.

    I hit the ignition. Iím staggering into the intersection. Iím monitoring electric motor sound. Iím hearing the gasser rifle up. Soon Iím speed shifting from 1st to 2nd on the column. Cindy roars to life. I probably could have chirped the tires in my joy but I was not showing off just then. In fact, it was only good I survived at all, as the light in question is short and any misstep could have been disastrous.

    I do manage side streets to home, and pull up for my reverse entry into the gravel pit. I turn the motor off Ė by now Iím just barely able to get it into gears. Odd, the neighbor waves to me, for all the normality, a nice day it is outside the cab. I wave back. Start up & Reverse her in. And now sheís all bound up, internally the clutch and transmission are no longer, and externally I rode up the sidewall a might bit. But home. In time for dinner. Which is good!

    Later, I use a small cup to transfer a might bit of DOT3 from the master cylinder Ė Lordy it is clean and full Ė such a good sight to see except why is my brake pedal soft sometimes if the MC is that clean and full? Anyway Ė a few teaspoons of transfer oil and the clutch resumes normal function enough to shift into forward gear so I can get Cindyís rump off the house pillar and forward thrust into the little front wheel ruts I rolled in where she sits tight overnight without an emergency brake.

    Yes, Iím updating my list of things. Good day to you.

    Update: Okay so that was stupid on my part. But you knew that and thanks for reading on. I did pour in a bunch of DOT3 and it seemed to work. Needed to make a drop off of about ten file boxes. Got almost all the way there and clutch went out completely. Looks to be the slave cylinder seal Ė but thatís me talking. Called the steady mechanic and he said heíd take a look. Parts look available locally. But sheís in the shop. Again.

    Luckily a coworker swooped over and picked up the boxes. That was the first of a few good things:

    Surprise surprise surprise. Where I broke down locality means finding a lighted parking area in case this game goes into overtime. Evenings can get sporty, these parts. I did have a monkey wrench in my hand. And I spilled a half bottle of DOT 3 on the ground through the hole in my clutch tubing. Bank parking lot. Guard comes out, all buff, turns out heís a weight watcher of the barbell type. So Iím all handshakes and apologies. Then it occurs to me heís just checking out the truck. Unbelievable.

    Guess what? He owns a vintage caddy. Low rider. Bounces. And not only does he share the delights of resto, but he tells me a new thing Ė didnít know that due to bounce stress you need an extra frame rail or two underneath while sheís twerking. And, I found a pin stripe guy, local! Has his own rig he called a mobile pin stripe service. Fast, efficient, affordable. By the way Ė come on down to the cars and coffee. Most humble guy ever Ė casually mentions how heís on the freeway other day going to show his auto.

    Guess what else? He's a model builder and loves the story behind Andre's Virtual MB which I bragged about having. Loves it - tells me all kinds of things about the model building world. Apparently it's a thing in restos - somebody printing a desktop version of your resto for you. Who woulda thunk it. Anyway - he appreciated all the effort made to be historically accurate on Andre's part. Said I got a keeper. I agree.

    Then AAA arrives and the guy loves him some bias ply tires. So itís all good. Except this is always how it feels before the shop calls and says, ď Ö _ _ _ Ö Ē

    To be continued. Enjoy the pics!
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    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 05-04-2021 at 06:18 PM.

  7. #47
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    Aug 2019

    The Cataplexy of the Possibles

    Well Cindy is broken again so I’m prone with a case of the cataplexy, and, it’s going to cost me money.

    Works like this. The truck breaks down and the justifying begins. This is the usual self talk, “need to get her back on the road” & “well, too far into it to quit now”’. Then reality sets in. Shrieking imaginings of the worst case. Convinced without evidence that it is a doomsday scenario, “with no parts available to restore to original” & “perhaps it’s time for a modification sequence”. You do try to be reasonable and responsible. The only logical ending point “having exhausted all options, yes, we are going to have to go ahead with it and we will do the modification”. Cha-ching.

    Then you realize she’s been in the shop one day and nothing has been diagnosed, and it’s a 90% chance it is only a 15 cent seal that corroded over 50 years. But you already know where it is headed.

    In my case it could mean that instead of a simple seal or plunger to fix the leaky clutch, the whole clutch will need replaced, so while I’m in there I should probably just add the five speed transmission with the overdrive I’ve been bookmarking on ebay for the past few months. It could happen.

    During the deleted thread about Cindy we had got to a point where we were exploring engine dynamics, the breathing requirements to maximize speed. Looking into the matter tonight, it was revealed a couple of new facts about my situation. First off, Cindy came with a cool new to me brochure. It explained lots of things in small words and pictures. Big point was the new J Series trucks were bad axe. Which we know. In their day, like in all days, Jeeps are superior vehicles, purpose built, and born ready. I was happy to read all about it.

    Then the you tubers were excited a few years back about how an engine works. In my day, it came in a big box with a million pieces and you put it together with your dad using glue – the working model engine. These days, it’s all in the mind’s eye. You see some cool photo realization of a working engine and how the air goes in, the piston evacuates a vacuum, gas squirts in the hole, sparks fly, exhaust forces its way out, combustion spins the connections of metallurgy, until all of it forces the result, and the rubber meets the road. Pro-Tip: Good to know there is blow by in every engine.

    Cindy’s hemispherical cavitation & overhead cam designs remain relevant, improving functionality for fifty years up to now. I have the capacity for more speed, built in. I don’t need a new transmission.

    Then they moved on to torque versus horsepower. My favorite was a guy who converted it to duck power. Seriously, he proved that one horse power equals 130 something ducks power. Which is fun for the imagination. 130 ducks is a lot of ducks. He forgot they use their wings though. And he didn’t include the foot webbing that makes them more powerful than a horse if the experiment is undertaken in a lake. So I turned him off after capturing his point: by whatever name we call it, more power is fast until it blows up.

    But the point is made – torque is force and horsepower is force applied over time. Whatever. Because they also said you have to extract “power loss” from the good results you get if the engine is freed up from constraints, as was mentioned in our first thread conversations. Theory or practice, one would assume. It all amounts to my truck has a ton of power and decent speed, limited by gearing, tire diameter, and that long throw which interrupts power transfer while I shift for five minutes between 1st, 2nd, and 3rd.

    That’s the cataplectic parts of this deal. I sit and learn things. Seriously folks. Do we really think we invented a wheel only a couple thousand years ago into our time on earth? I ask because I know of a beetle that rolls dung. My two cents are if a beetle can figure out that “it” rolls down hill, so did we, and probably the first time we saw something roll down a hill. We needed to invent a wheel? Really? No way.

    Which means we also knew about leverage. Which means we knew the principles of force as soon as we figured out riding a fast horse got you there faster than riding a slow one. Must have been an momentous day, the day the first person proclaimed, “The fastest horse won”. Which is to say, if you need work done, a draft horse is what it is that you will hook up. I need a spreadsheet to make this clear to me? No. No, I don’t.

    So, while I study on my Jeep Truck, it sure isn’t to gain 2% more power. If I want that I’ll just rename horsepower to, what’d that guy call it, oh yeah, metric horsepower. From Wikipedia, “DIN 66036 defines one metric horsepower as the power to raise a mass of 75 kilograms against the Earth's gravitational force over a distance of one metre in one ...”. So now we have boiler horsepower, mechanical horsepower, hydrological horsepower. You can even measure your light bulbs in horsepower. Way to go all humanity.

    All to prove that more is better and Cindy has enough of that to get along just fine. I bought the version of an old truck designed exactly for what I need. Good power. Highway speeds. Easy shifting. So, I’m going to deal with myself this way. I don’t need to change everything about my horse. I just need to ride it as I found it. I will not, no, in no way shape or form, buy myself a new five speed transmission with a built in granny and 5th gear for 75+ mph flying down the highway fun times. Although that would be pretty fun.

    You, me, and everybody hopes this is a quick fix, so I can stop troubling the internet with such as this post. Thanks for reading. Really hope they fix my truck soon!
    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 05-06-2021 at 10:19 PM.

  8. #48
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    Update! Not Fixed Yet

    So the mechanic & shop fixed the clutch in like one day. He's that good. Unfortunately, he also "found a gigantic oil leak". I probably should have admitted in advance that I poured oil all over the engine bay trying to squirt it into the clutch receptacle. Seems he figured that out. Now they have to "get that cleant up". In fact, today I drove by the bank where the oil spill happened. Historical reference for old guys: its a superfund site; for racers the oil hazard covers half a parking spot. Total embarrassment. I'll never go to that bank ever again.

  9. #49
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    a lot more about water than milk or oil

    What do I know about oil?

    Well, we were snowed in deep one time, plus I wanted a 70’s K-5 or a Dodge Ram Charger. I stopped in at the used car lot where this lumpy old truck was sitting with a plow. I had spoken to the OG Neighbor who said the plow alone was worth the purchase price. He said to buy the plow truck for $500, even though the window said $1100. Said to call him when I have the hood open, and bring $600 cash but put a hundred of it in my other pocket and put the $500 on the counter, only after I check the engine.

    So I got the hood open, called him, and he said pull the dip stick and I said oil looks good and he said what color? I said clean oil, little darkish, and he sure it’s not milky? I said no it’s not milky it’s clear and a little darkish. He said leave the hood open, go inside, give him the 500, and talk later. So I did. And that’s how I got a 78 Ram Charger plow truck.

    So, I’ve had good luck with oil, up til now. You put it in, it drips out, or burns sometimes, so you add more. Pretty simple deal. I like oil. More recently, you may have read the above post about milky oil at the dip stick. You know me, this means research! I learned a lot more about water than milk or oil.

    Did you know that ole one leg John Wesley Powell proclaimed upon his first foray into the west that the scarcity of water would limit us to little far apart towns and therefore we shouldn’t? I guess some years later we showed him by naming that big lake, Lake Powell, after him. It feeds big cities he claimed we could never support, him measuring in the 1800’s how it just wouldn’t do with so little water and such frequent drought. Unsustainable for society he said. Give me air conditioning in the 1920’s a bunch people said and we will live in the desert like we were born for it. Good for the economy everyone agreed. Great for humanity, so we hoped. And, the decision was taken.

    Speaking of such, our first neighbors knew how to live as a part of the desert ecosystem, but in more modern times we abandoned that good way we learned and instead installed a roughshod wholesale planned community approach including interstate hi way systems and millions of habitats for humanity atop a dessert, Cadillac style. Is it prime real estate? You bet. Gold, golf, and good times. We can’t imagine a dust bowl being a problem here. We already got dust! Plus, this water we import keeps us fresh and clean in our pretty parts, so we are happy generally speaking, and we have children to prove our sustainability! Until recently.

    Now, somebody flew a drone over all the lakes when they got popular. Did you know we have more drone licensed pilots than actual aircraft pilots? That aerial footage causes public awareness, of all things. Now we all know for sure that all the big lakes we built are dead pool bound, emptying. Bathtub rings do tell. We find ourselves with three options to replenish our western water supply. Air delivery, overland delivery, and underground delivery, which are the known alternatives to saturate back the western lands, available to us now for several decades, and written into NAFTA and River Compacts. That or pray for rain.

    As for air delivery, today most of the western states are seeding clouds. Mostly, they do it in snowstorms to avoid the appearance of creating floods like the Englanders did last century when some giant brain poured too much seed into the cloud eroding a town and 54 souls with it. They do it in pubic to avoid the awfully large Popeye effect made famous when we made mud not war, said best by Forest Gump “One day it started to Rain”. But we shot ourselves in the foot during that mission, when we also added some extra ingredients which harmed humanity called agent orange, slightly different than mustard gas forever banned after the first war. The public distanced itself from cloud seeding and put the tinhats between us and them chem trails. That being the history, they seed clouds today in public private partnerships because that’s the American way – gotta make some green for all, some plants for you, some cash for you. That’s the sky high method of replenishing the west’s water, and it aint enough. Unless we seed every cloud, not enough drops. Still dead pool, empty, bound. Drats!

    So the overland method is by lake, river, and tunnel from way up north, See, we take some arctic water and run that stuff all the way to the equator. You laughing? The plans have been in place for 75 years. We know which valleys to dam, which rivers to divert, where to put the tunnels, and which American rivers will hold a little extry water to transport downstream to quench the thirst in the warmer climes on both sides of the rockies. Keep our reservoirs full it will. Keep us booming it can. The downside? The monkey wrench gang will correctly assert, along with god fearing Americans, and unconvinced scientists, that you don’t mess with mother nature, ever. Business as usual? We shall see.

    And the aquifer method is done by pumping in some cold water into the Ogallala aquifer up northern plains way, where it begins, and which we emptied last century more or less. That underground bathtub stretches like legs all the way down the open country to the borderlands. To fill it back up ensures it’ll seep and gurgle it’s way all down the plains and along the rockies until it shoots up in the air at the southern border town of Artesia. Look up Artesian well for the visual. We could use existing transport methods to extract the new water, same as we have been for 100 years, to reduce costs. The problem with this is towns which people once called “soggy bottom, usa” are now mall crawler suburbia, and they might not like a return to swamp living once the water percolates into the swales they leveled out. So there’s that. It’s a big dilemma. We could do something, or nothing.

    Mick and Keith described best why we haven’t solved the empty reservoir problem: “Get off the fence boy, it’s creasin’ your butt, you aint the only one, with mixed emoh-shun”. We just can’t make up our mind! Do we want wet western towns and cities? Simple: be good to our neighbors when we buy Canadian excess water and share the overflow with Mexico to the South? We just don’t know! Do we honor mother nature, be good stewards of god’s creation, and suffer through a thousand year drought? We don’t know.

    Just to keep you posted, the KWJ Tornado Engine head is cracked and it’s being repaired. If it works, Cindy Truck will be back on the road in a jiffy. If it fails, I’m somewhere between an engine swap and a body swap. Truth be told, I just don’t know. It’s a dilemma, of sorts. I want to take good care of this old truck, but I want to drive it like a bat out of hell too. Maybe that’s why I got the bench seat. To keep from creasin’ my butt.

    If this goes on much longer, I’ll tell you all about aliens!
    Last edited by 5JeepsAz; 07-07-2021 at 05:14 PM.

  10. #50
    Senior Member 5JeepsAz's Avatar
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    Aug 2019

    New Engine. New Transmission. New Ebrake. New Head? What on Earth???

    It rained tonight and I feel like taking a ride in the Jeep. But it’s in the shop. So this is the next best thing. I apologize in advance. But. Just ask yourself this: what are we doing now that we know?

    So military guys take different jobs for lots of different reasons. The flight jocks are a certain breed. Among creed specific things they can do is operate machinery in a void, maintaining flight, staying alive up there. That astronaut’s mom told us in Apollo 13 that these fellas can fly a washing machine if it could fly. They are that good, and whatever else is said about pilots, what they see up there helps us landlubber folks survive down here.

    So in battle, when survival is on the line, no matter how we might feel about a top gun, if they say they saw something over the hill, we do prepare for what they said they saw. Not just some of the time. All of the time. And. Especially when a forward observer breaks silence to inform us what’s over the hill, we prepare accordingly. Not just some of the time but all of the time.

    When people like that say they saw something, we believe it, and we act on the intel, so we survive.

    Yes, we have skeptics. Fellas in the chow line never saw it before, said what they saw was lesser, claimed they’d whoop it’s behind if it was their mission. Some people say they need more evidence; they act on what is in front, what they see for themselves. Others say that we don’t see these things every day, so they cannot be proven to be everywhere, and this somehow lessens the importance of what trusted personnel report is actually see right over the horizon. Commenters include that they are observed only around military features and nuclear places, so it’s not civilian. All denials, of all kinds. According to the type folks there aint no aliens. Care to read more?

    Okay so I believe pilots see these things. I believe people who say we don’t have them in the public arsenal. And I am 100% certain no private company has them, since if they did they would own the world, the moon, and the stars. Further, we only see them around secure sites? Duh. Isn’t that the only place we have equipment that can see them? Last I checked, the camera at the stop light or the bank or the news station or on a satellite is not equipped with military level sensors capable of capturing data on an object that defies the known laws of physics. These things are likely everywhere and have been for eons.

    That’s why I wanted to drive my Jeep, to think that through.

    We have historical records, recent evidence, and now our top people saying the crafts we have on tape do things we don’t know how they do. Such as defy gravity. Such as operate in a vacuum, a gas, and a liquid with equal capability. These things are air, space, and sea capable, but their capability is the same in all three? Got a jeep that functions just as well in the air, in space, and in water? No. No you don’t.

    We have news reports and government confirmation that craft exist we cannot match. What if it is true? US Service Men and Women, Pilots, report unknown craft that defy physical laws. They do not know how the machines they saw do what they saw them do. Our forward observers, the best of us, said they saw something that they couldn’t compete with. They told us that, publicly. Our best don’t know what they saw, but it was better than what we got. I’d say it’s time to face truth, or consequences.

    Thanks for the ride along!

    Here is the donor engine, the donor head, and the donor transmission with Ebrake. Plan is to get back to running and driving, switch transmission, learn how to hot rod a motor.

    Step One: using the donor head to replace the cracked one. Benefit is keeping original engine stock. Related benefit is driving my truck, which is a driver, so that is sort of the point.

    Step Two: Refurb the transmission and install the floor shift. That’s because I want a floor shift, want an ebrake, and this does both. If bend the transfer case shifter to stand side along, I’ll have two sticks making 16 possibilities; 4Lo, 4Hi, 2Lo, 2Hi, R, 1st, 2nd, 3rd. It’s still a three speed, and, yes, I’ll take it!

    Then we take some sweet time learning all about hot rodding the coolest engine ever, the Tornado 230 OHC, of which I now have a spare. Wot? Spare Engine? How great is that? Maybe it can do a time warp, again. Let’s have some fun..

    Enjoy the pics!
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