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Okay, so we end up just north of Everett at this guy's house to pick up the
two Fastys. Martin and Brooke run to the store to buy a battery, Adam and I
are dropping the engine in the "runner" to replace the clutch and pressure
plate, while the rest of the gang (John, Ken, Frank) drag the parts car onto
the tow dolly.
The "runner" is in sad shape, spider webs everywhere, no seat belts, moldy
smelling, and a large, center mounted single carb above the engine :-( We got
the clutch in, no problems -- well, I accidently wiped off the marks on the
flywheel when I was cleaning the oil off it but Adam remembered it's
orientation -- and the ignition was rigged up with a two-pole toggle switch
and a loose wire that was used to hot wire the starter. Brake fluid was added
to the two-chamber resevoir (rear side was empty...for a reason we would find
out) and the front axle nuts/clamps tightened to remove the 1/4" wheel play.
I'm driving and Martin is passenger. We leave the guy's place behind the
Suburban towing the parts car.
And run out of gas.
We're about 1/2 mile from the guy's place and about a mile from the gas
station. Thanks to cell-phone technology Adam and crew come back to help us
out. While we're waiting I'm pumping the brakes because the only braking that
is coming on is the last centimeter of pedal travel! The e-brake is worthless
right now. I'm looking at all the rust just in front of the accelerater pedal
and hoping the brake line will hold up. A couple of quick pumps and the brake
line suddenly sprays brake fluid on my leg and shoe :-( I put a towel over
the new leak to keep it from spraying even more on me.
The Suburban shows up and we decide it's too far to push the car and the gas
station only sells the mondo-huge gas cans so we rope the front bumper of the
"runner" to the rear bumper of the towed parts car. Adam tows us to the gas
station with only one stop sign along the way...which was in front of the
local police station. Luckily, nobody saw us and we make it to the gas
station.
Toby
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