FRANK'S CLASSIC CAR BLOG

North Main - Chapter Nine

2026-03-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

Street racing to us was kind of the norm. Yeah, we knew it was "against the law", but viewed it as mostly harmless fun. Local street racing was also more convenient, as the only local legal race tracks in southern California at that time were Riverside International Raceway (RIR) and Orange County International Raceway (OCIR). While RIR was fairly close to us most of the races there were sanctioned. When there was open racing the place was always packed. OCIR had a lot more street racing type events but it was also a lot farther drive, plus I didn't have a trailer, so that meant driving the Chevelle to the track. One event that was always held at OCIR was the Super Chevy Show. It was a Chevy-only car show, swap meet, and drag race. I never missed that show as it was my favorite. Another OCIR favorite was the Coors 64 Funny Cars event that was held annually. As the name implies, there were at least 64 funny cars and it was a show like no other!

According to local lore, one of the oldest street racing areas (prior to North Main) was on Palmyrita Avenue. Palmyrita was buried deep in the orange groves which provided great cover for racing activities. But it was not an ideal location, mainly because it was a narrow two lane street with almost no room for off street parking. Nobody raced there anymore but my buddy Duane used it to "test" his GTO, as it was located not too far from his house. More than a few times I rode shotgun with him while he was testing out different combinations on his goat. Usually it was another tri-power that he scored at the local Pick-a-Part or Ecology Auto Wrecking. We were lucky enough to have grown up during the glory days of wrecking yards. I personally procured parts from GTO's, SS Chevelle's, GT Mustang's, 442 Oldsmobile's, and many more. Although a lot of these muscle cars are kind of rare now, back then the junk yards were littered with them. I remember removing the Carter carburetors off of a 413 Chrysler cross ram, taking the factory aluminum intake manifold off a 1969 GTO Judge, wrenching off a '68 Corvette 427 tri-power manifold (somebody beat me to the carbs), pilfering a turbo from a Corvair Spyder, dismantling more Rochester Quadrajets that I can remember, and laying on cardboard muscling out Muncie 4 speed transmissions and the occasional Turbo Hydramatic 400. I also had a thing for car emblems and always had to remove as many as I could during each bone yard visit. The rarest car I recall seeing was at R&B Auto Wrecking. Someone had actually junked a 1969 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler Dan Gurney Special! I really liked this car and it looked like it belonged on a NASCAR track. It was complete but the previous owner had disassembled the top end of the motor and stuffed it in the trunk. Unlike the "self service" yards, R&B was a traditional wrecking yard. Fortunately I knew the owner Will Gray, who was a giant of a man, and he would let me roam the yard and remove my own parts. It was during one of those jaunts that I spotted the Mercury, so I went up to the office and asked Will if he would sell me the whole car. We walked out to the Mercury and he lifted the hood to look over the engine. Will stuck his hand down into one of the cylinders to check for a ridge and his hand was so large that it wouldn't even fit in the bore! He told me he wanted the engine out of the Cyclone for his pickup but if I wanted the rest of the car, I could have it for $1000. Regrettably I did not buy the Merc and I believe it ended up getting parted out. Who knew? We certainly didn't.

The junkyards were essential to us because we didn't have a lot of money, and the more money that I could save meant that I could buy another car! Some of the better ones I didn't have to buy, I actually traded for them. These are some of the trades that I recall: a 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix traded for a 1975 Chevy Monza with a factory V-8 and 4 speed, a 1985 Suzuki KX500 traded for a 1969 Plymouth Road Runner with a 440, a 1967 Pontiac Firebird traded for a 1973 Plymouth Cuda, a 1967 Ford Mustang traded for a 1963 Chevy K10 stepside pickup with a 402 big block, and a 1953 Oldsmobile Super 88 traded for a 1962 Mercury Monterey with a 390. I was all over the map when it came to trading. The deciding factor was usually if I liked the way it looked! Remember, these cars were relatively cheap back then. Besides my '69 Chevelle Malibu and the aforementioned trades, here are some of my more memorable rides that I used to own: a 1939 Ford Pickup, a 1955 Chevy Bel Air, a 1956 Chevy 210, a 1957 Chevy Bel Air, a 1964 Ford Falcon Sprint, a 1966 Impala SS 396 convertible, a 1967 Chevelle L79, a 1967 Chevy El Camino L35, a 1967 Chevelle SS, a 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400, a 1968 Pontiac GTO, a 1968 Chevy II Nova SS, a 1969 Ford Mustang Grande 428CJ, a 1969 Camaro SS, a 1969 Chevelle SS, a 1969 Firebird 400 convertible, a 1969 Pontiac GTO, a 1970 Camaro SS, a 1972 Oldsmobile 442, and a 1983 Hurst/Olds. I also owned many variants of these vehicles that were just considered "plain Jane" or base models but out of all of these muscle cars the only one that I managed to hang on to was the Olds 442. There were also tons of cool cars just languishing in people's driveways or side yards. I would drive around neighborhoods looking for potential projects to buy and would either knock on the door or leave a note. I was used to hearing "no, not for sale" or "I'm going to fix it up someday" and the occasional "get lost punk". The following are some of the cars that I didn't score: a 1966 Chevelle SS, a 1967 Ford Fairlane GTA, a 1967 Chevelle convertible, a 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400 convertible, a 1968 Ford Mustang GT, a 1970 Pontiac GTO Judge, a 1970 Chevelle SS, a 1972 Chevelle Heavy Chevy, a 1972 Camaro Z/28, and a 1979 Pontiac Macho T/A.

I have bought and sold more vehicles than I can remember but as with a lot of people, there is always that "one" that got away. In my case, that one was the 1939 Ford Pickup that my dad gave to me for my 21st birthday. Not a muscle car by any means but it did have a flat head V-8 with a 3 speed and a Columbia overdrive rear end. My father was the original owner and drove that truck up until I was born. In my late 20's I had to sell it, and a few other cars, to pay a hospital bill. I also wish I still had my '69 Chevelle. When I sold it I really didn't need the money but a friend of mine had been bugging me for awhile to sell it to him. I finally gave in and sold him the car on one condition - that if he decided to sell it, I would get the first chance to buy it back. Of course those type of conditions never work out. It was about six months later and I am driving down a side street when low and behold, there is my Chevelle sitting in front of some random house. I was actually on the way to that friends house, the very same one that I had sold it to, but now I had a bone to pick with him. "Did you sell my car?" was the first thing I said when he answered the door. "It wasn't your car anymore" he said, "Besides, I didn't think you still wanted it." Boy was I pissed! I did find out that the guy he sold it to was a friend of his named Paul. So I ended up going over to Paul's house to see if he would sell me my Chevelle. I talked to Paul and explained to him that it was basically my first car and that I was supposed to get the first shot at buying it. He flat out told me that he wouldn't sell it to me because he never got the opportunity to buy his first car back, so why should I be able to? I couldn't believe it! To make matters worse he ended up selling the Chevelle a few weeks later to some random dude who ended up thrashing it. Ironically I "found" my Chevelle one last time many years later at a body shop where I had brought a '67 Pontiac Lemans to for some rust repair. The car was reduced to just a rolling body, no engine or transmission and the hood was missing as well as most of the interior. Even in the condition that it was in I recognized it immediately. To make absolutely sure I crawled into the engine compartment and looked up into the transmission tunnel. Scratched into the top of the tunnel, right above where the bell housing would be, were numerous dates. You see, every time I blew up a transmission or changed out a clutch, I would scratch the date in the tunnel of the Chevelle. Now there was no doubt this was my old car so I had to ask the owner of the body shop about it. He told me it was a customer's car that didn't pay his bill so he was going to do a lien sale on it and keep it. I told him I was interested in buying it and to let me know if he wanted to sell it. A few months later I get a call from him asking me if I am still interested in buying the Chevelle. "Heck yeah" I said, "how much?" He told me $2500 and I told him it would take me a month to get the money together, but I wanted it. A little over a month later I tried to call him to set up an appointment to get the Chevelle but nobody was picking up the shop phone. I decided to drive down there and what I found was the gates to the business were locked shut and there was a "No Trespassing" sign posted by the sheriff's office along with yellow tape stating "Police Line Do Not Cross". I asked one of the business's that was next to him what happened and they told me that the owner was a tweeker and the police had raided the place last week. Apparently they found a boat load of drugs so everything was seized, and I didn't know if I could get my Chevelle back or not. I knew a Sargent that was on the Police force so I asked him what happens to all the stuff that is seized in a drug bust. He told me most of it will probably be auctioned off and I could check with the department for auction dates. When I specifically asked him about the cars he said that only the complete ones would be going to auction, the parts cars would be sold for scrap and the city had a contract with a local metal recycler to haul them off. My last chance to get my car back was history and just like that my old Chevelle was gone forever.

FranktoidTM No. 28 - Quadrajet or Quadrajunk? You Decide.

2026-03-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

Here is my review of a reproduction Chinese Quadrajet for your viewing pleasure.

18, Life and 1 Million

2026-02-17T07:07:00.000-08:00

Eighteen years ago today I started this blog to share some of my automotive knowledge and put all the stories floating around in my head in writing. What used to be called pen to paper is now keyboard to computer. I wanted so badly to get a writing gig with an automotive magazine like Hot Rod, or Popular Hot Rodding, or Car Craft, or basically anything in print. Had I landed a writing job this blog probably wouldn't exist and you would not have the pleasure of reading all of my drivel. It also dawned on me that I probably would no longer be employed at said automotive publication because most magazine publishers have gone the way of the Dodo bird or got bought up in some corporate deal and shuttered. Ask David Freiburger about that last one. It's funny how unanswered prayers are actually blessings in disguise. Life is good. Heck, I even got to retire early! I will probably never be "published" but i'm okay with that. This blog will continue for the foreseeable future with yours truly at the helm churning out the stories, not AI. Also, another milestone reached here at the Amberlight Garage is that we have just surpassed one million unique views! That is one million individual people that have visited Frank's Classic Car Blog. I know, that's a mere drop in a bucket to some social media influencers on TikTok or even a lot of the music videos on YouTube, but they are my one million views and I am very grateful for every one of them.

Kid Rock 2.0

2026-02-12T20:21:00.000-08:00

Back in 2021 I wrote about Kid Rock and a cool video of his that I ran across titled First Kiss. That same year Cody Johnson released a song that became a favorite of mine called 'Til You Can't. I have been a fan of Kid Rock, AKA Robert Ritchie, for awhile now and when he did his own rendition of 'Til You Can't, it just blew me away! Words have never been so powerful...

FranktoidTM No. 27 - If Tool Boxes Could Talk

2026-02-01T20:59:00.000-08:00

I recently re-organized my tool boxes, mainly to make room for new tools that I had bought but also because it was years overdue. It was a bit of a daunting task as I have five roll-a-ways. I'm not one to just chuck tools away either, every piece has its place. I might be a little OCD when it comes to my tools but at least I can find everything when I need it. Some of the boxes I have had for over 45 years so the main problem I have in re-organizing is the relocation of tools that have been in the same drawer the entire time. Now I have to remember their new location! Many a night was spent wrenching on my project cars and pulling tools out of these boxes so their locations were ingrained in my memory. I also cleaned out my portable tool box. That's the one that I always brought with me to the wrecking yards. Self-service yards started about the same time that I got my drivers license. Before that junkyards were like auto parts stores; you went up to the counter and requested the part that you needed. They might have had it on a shelf in the back labeled with a yellow paint marker or they would send an employee out into the yard to remove it for you. If that yard didn't have what you wanted they would get on the "squawk box" and check other wrecking yards in the area to see if they had it.

The self-service yards in my area of Southern California at that time were Ecology Auto Wrecking and Pick-a-Part. I would visit them almost weekly, tool box in hand. My tool box was on the smaller side so there was not really any spare room in it for "extra parts", but I would still have to open it up when leaving the yard so they could make sure it didn't contain any pilfered parts. The joke was on them, everyone knew that was what your pockets were for! As I was emptying out my portable box I ran across some scraps of paper and remembered that I used to write down parts that I was looking for during my junkyard crawls. I glanced over the lists and couldn't remember if I ever ended up finding the parts or not. I even forgot that I had owned one of the vehicles on the list! If my tool boxes could talk they might remind me of a thing or two... which I'm sure I have forgotten!

New Year, New Fears

2026-01-01T21:14:00.000-08:00

For the new year I have decided to adopt the attitude "What, me worry?", the iconic catchphrase of Alfred E. Neuman who is the freckled, gap-toothed mascot of Mad Magazine. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of worries for the up coming year. A few that come to mind: Will I break ground on the new Amberlight Garage this summer? Will I start working again on Project Yellowjacket? Will I buy another project car? You see, these are the worries that I can actually do something about. I predict the other worldly worries will show their ugly face soon enough, but I hesitate to go into any detail, lest you worry. I will say this: there will be perceived fears that will be nothing but smoke and mirrors. Don't be fooled. In other news I also have been kicking around the idea of a YouTube channel, although that would consume more of my time which is something that I always seem to be running short on. So the new year may see a new channel, or not.

North Main - Chapter Eight

2025-12-26T19:36:00.000-08:00

I drove back to the relative safety of Market Street where everyone was cruising and decided to park in front of the Firestone Tire. I was just hanging out, listening to 94.7 KMET on my Pioneer Super Tuner, and before long I saw Jim in his Camaro on the cruise circuit. I shouted to him and he flipped a bitch and pulled up to where I was parked. He jumps out of his car and says "Where the heck did you go?" I explained that I was checking out my car when I saw the bust going down and got the hell out of there. Jim told me he got a ticket for "spectating" as he was already pulled over on the side of the road when the cops showed up. Luckily he was outside his car so I guess they couldn't prove he was driving. I was already on the verge of losing my license with all the exhibition of speed tickets that I had. I think the only reason that I still had my license was that my dad knew the Juvenile Court judge. The last time I was in front of him he warned me that if I got one more ticket I would lose my license for 6 months! I was already skating on thin ice and had almost got busted! As Jim and I were standing there bullshitting we saw multiple tow trucks go by, towing cars that were down at North Main! We were wondering why they were taking them this way, as it was packed with cruisers, and then it dawned on us. They were parading them down Market Street to send a message to all the other racers!

Even with my close call and the intimidation parade orchestrated by Riverside's finest, the next weekend we still went down to North Main! Our reasoning was that the Police were too busy to schedule a raid two weekends in a row. It turned out that we were either right or just got lucky, but the racing that next weekend was crazy. The turnout was massive. It seems like word had spread about the Police raid and that brought even more people out, both spectators and racers. I had gotten there early in anticipation of getting some racing action. Lots of guys were checking out my Chevelle but to my surprise I couldn't get a race! It turned out that word had also spread about me beating Jim's Camaro. This was the evening that I remember seeing the first trailered cars show up. I knew better than to ask for a race but I still wanted to check them out, so I acted like I was interested. One of the cars was a 1955 Ford Thunderbird, but it was basically just the body on a tube chassis. It was running a big block Ford with an automatic trans, 9 inch rear end with wheelie bars. The other trailered car was a late 40's English Ford Anglia with a 6-71 blown Chevy small block, automatic trans, and a radically shortened 9 inch, also with wheelie bars. Both of these were full blown race cars! As far as I know, this was a first for North Main and it showed how serious the racing was becoming. I got to talking with the car's owners and it turned out they both drove out from Whittier. These guys were pretty cool and they had pretty much just brought their cars out to show them off. They did fire up the Anglia and back it off the trailer, but it did not make a pass that night. There were plenty of races going down so there was no lack of action. One race in particular that I was looking forward to, and one that had been talked up for weeks, was between Livingston with his 67 Chevelle and Morgan with his Ford Courier pickup. The Chevelle was running a 327 V-8 and a Doug Nash 5 speed. The Courier had a 2.3 liter turbo charged 4 cylinder. A lot of people thought that the Chevelle would trample the Courier, but a few, myself included, knew that that Ford Courier was no stock pickup. Not only did it have plexiglass windows, but the owner/builder had the nickname "Turbo Joe", and this was not his first rodeo! The night turned out to be a bust because Turbo Joe didn't show up, so we would have to wait some more to see this match. Livingston raced a few cars that night and beat them hands down. His high compression, roller cammed small block was well known and tough to beat.

The next weekend the crowd at North Main had really surged in size, I think partially in anticipation of the Livingston/Morgan race. There were also at least four trailered cars there! People were standing 3 and 4 deep when Turbo Joe pulled up to the line next to Livingston. Everyone wanted to see this race! The Chevelle came off the line hard and got a little squirrely, whereas the Courier took off like a slingshot. Mid track, the Chevelle caught the Courier and I thought it was over at that point, but to the surprise of many, the Courier and Chevelle stayed neck and neck almost to the end. I say almost because some (like me) saw Livingston pull ahead right at the end, but others said Turbo Joe inched him. The spotter that was at the finish line said it was too close to call. They would just have to race again! Unfortunately it would not be tonight, as the Courier had developed a misfire and Morgan had to take it home. Livingston was adamant that he had won and was really wanting that rematch. He had the hood up on the Chevelle and a lot of people were standing around it while he was talking some serious smack. I saw an opportunity and, in front of everybody, challenged him to a race. Now he had also heard that I had beaten Jim's Camaro, which was also small block powered, but I don't think he believed the story. In fact, I had heard that he referred to my big block as a "boat anchor"! He didn't answer me right away so I decided to throw down the gauntlet and said "What's the matter, afraid of getting beat by a boat anchor?" That did it and he shot me a look and said "I'll see you at the line!"

I beelined back to my Chevelle and checked a few things under the hood as well as lower the rear tire pressure. I fired up the big block and proceeded over to the starting line. We didn't have to wait long before it was our turn. The scene was surreal. Two radical Chevelles inching up to the line, our lopey camshafts chopping up the cold night air and snorting fumes out our exhaust pipes, like a horse's breath through its nostrils. This was a rat versus mouse, 4 speed against 5 speed, high school rivalry revisited, all out balls to the wall race. I am watching the guy staging us and start to rev my engine to just under three thousand rpm. Tonight he was using a flash light instead of his arms because of how dark it was out. The seconds seemed like minutes as I found myself wanting to look over at Livingston, but knew better, lest I miss the light. Suddenly there was the light, and I simultaneously dumped the clutch and mashed down the accelerator pedal. My big block roared, his small block screamed, both of us grabbing gears like our life depended on it. I glanced over once and saw Livingston's headlights, which meant I was pulling on him! With my adrenaline rushing, I shifted at 7500 rpm and stabbed the final gear home. I beat Livingston by a good car length, further cementing my Chevelles street cred. I was no sooner parked when Livingston rushed up to me demanding a rematch. Others soon chorused him, wanting to see us race again, even though there was still a bunch of racing going down. What I really wanted to do was a thorough check over on my Chevelle before I raced it again. The last thing I needed was to damage my motor! Before I could answer him, a loud bang was heard, followed by metallic grinding noises. Everyone's attention immediately shifted to the race that was happening, a 390 powered Ford truck versus a 400 small block Chevy 4x4. The driver of the Chevy decided to race the truck in four wheel drive and proceeded to grenade the trucks transfer case, which caused the front driveshaft to break loose and launch into the engines oil pan. The resulting mess of oil, gear lube, and metal shrapnel spread across the road like the Exxon Valdez oil spill. And just as quickly, the racing was over for the night.

I hopped into the Chevelle and headed towards Market Street where I knew the cruising action would be hot. All the spots were full in front of the Firestone so I decided to cruise for awhile. There were a lot of cars cruising that I did not recognize and that explained why it was so packed. There must have been a bunch of out-of-towners that showed up tonight. As I'm cruising I see Chuck, a buddy of mine from High School, hanging out on one of the street corners. He is holding up a sign that says "I can lick my eyebrows" and trying to hitch a ride with any female cruiser. I honk my horn, point at him and start laughing! Chuck was crazy and always good for a laugh. I had finally completed the cruise circuit and the Firestone lot was still full, so I headed down to park at Carl's Jr. I was hungry anyways so I decided to kick back inside of Carl's while I scarfed down a Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger. It wasn't long before Jim found me. He sat down and started eating what was left of my fries. I asked him if he had seen my race but he told me that he had to work late and had just gotten down there. I recapped the race for Jim and he wanted to go find Livingston and race him with his Camaro! I then told him about the accident and the mess that it left. I said it would be at least a week before any racing would be happening at North Main, maybe longer if the police decided to pay a visit again. We talked about how risky it was getting and I told him I didn't know how much longer I would be going down to North Main because I couldn't risk losing my license. Jim then told me about a new place he had heard about where there was street racing going on. The street was at least a mile long and was located in a new industrial park on the other side of town, close to Orco Block. He told me he drove over there on his lunch break to see for himself and the street was almost perfectly flat with fresh blacktop. Now he had me curious and we decided to both go and check it out next weekend. "We might have to race to see how good it is." I said to him. "You're on!" Jim said, with a mischievous grin on his face.

Good vs Evil

2025-09-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Warning: Off topic post.

Today, September the 10th, Charlie Kirk was assassinated. Mr Kirk was a conservative christian and someone that, in my opinion, stood for good. Let's not sugar coat it, he was murdered because of what he believed in and spoke about. Charlie was making an impact and because of that someone felt that they needed to silence him. Why? What's the end game? Is this the new normal? Freedom of speech is dead, quite literally. In a past blog Another New Beer, I predicted "something major and ominous happening in the upcoming year". The murder of Charlie Kirk would definitely qualify as the major part. I realized what the ominous part was after I read a lot of the disgusting and vile comments to Charlie's death.

Evil seems to be lurking around every corner now-a-days. Evil is especially present on the internet. Social media is evils best friend judging from the pure hatred that was put on display following the news of Charlie Kirk's death. People were actually celebrating his death and relishing the pain that his family is feeling, just because of what he believed in. Evil seems to be running rampant and must be stopped. Pure evil, that's the ominous part. These are dark times and we need the light of good. Charlie's death shook me to the core, as it did to a lot of good people. I also can't shake the feeling that a sleeping giant was awakened. Mark my words: Good will prevail over evil. And to every evil person spreading hate and false information about him I have but one message: I am Charlie Kirk.

North Main - Chapter Seven

2025-09-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

Although I really wanted to race my Chevelle at North Main, I discovered a serious traction problem now that the big block was installed in the car. My rear tires were 245/60/15 BF Goodrich T/A Radials that had seen better days. I needed some serious meats to get the power of the 402 to the pavement. Pro Trac made a really nice street/strip tire that had a super soft compound but everyone that I knew that had them told me that they wore out really quick, even if you weren't doing burnouts all the time! I was running an 8 inch wide rally wheel so I wanted to get the widest tire possible that would fit inside the stock wheel wells. Just when I thought that I was out of options, I spotted a Super Shops ad in the Sunday paper advertising a brand new T/A radial. BF Goodrich had just released their widest radial tire, a 305/50/15! Talk about some bodacious donuts, these things were massive! I needed a set of these pronto!

One of the cool things about the Super Shops was that you could get a trial fit of the tire you wanted on your car. I had to make sure that this steam roller sized tire would fit on the Chevelle without rubbing. As soon as I had a chance, I cruised down to the local Super Shops on 7th street. Although the sales guy was eager to sell me a set of tires, the labor guy was insistent that the tires were not going to fit. I was starting to doubt it myself after the tire was mounted because it was ballooning out so much from the edge of the rim. Much to my surprise those massive meats tucked up in the wheel wells perfectly. The view from behind was incredible! The tires were so wide it looked like the car had mini tubs installed. Now I was ready and Saturday was just a few days away!

Saturday morning and afternoon was spent prepping the car for that evenings activities. I have to admit, the Chevelle really looked good cleaned up. Medium blue metallic with argent silver all along the bottom rocker panels, 15x8 rally wheels in the rear with the wide trim rings, and 14x6 rally wheels up front. Just my luck, my mom had made lasagna for dinner, so I was definitely eating (and having seconds) and that made me get a late start on that evenings activities. The weather was perfect and I decided to hit the cruise circuit before heading out to North Main. The place was absolutely packed! There were a lot of people hanging out and even more cruising. It was bumper to bumper for miles, and I was inching along in the Chevelle, looking for a place to pull over and park. Although I preferred manual transmissions, my left leg was getting quite a workout in that traffic. When I put the big block in I also upgraded the clutch to a heavy duty three finger pressure plate that I had custom built at Clutch Masters. As I was depressing the clutch pedal it started to feel like something was grinding or rubbing. I was going to pull over to see what was up when suddenly there was a pop noise just as I was pushing the pedal, and my foot slammed to the floor. I was in neutral and managed to coast over to a driveway entrance. After a quick check over, it did not take me long to figure out what had happened. The pivot that held one end of the clutch counter shaft had snapped off in the block. I knew it would not be a quick fix, so off I went on foot to find a pay phone. While I was walking I was trying to figure out how I was going to get the Chevelle home. I stopped at the Carl's Jr to get a drink and spotted a guy a knew from the neighborhood, Zeke. Zeke was older but was a seasoned mechanic and street racer so I figured he might know what I could do. After explaining to him what had happened, he told me to just drive it home. I gave him a confused look and before I could ask how he explained it to me. "It's easy", Zeke said, "just start the motor with the car in first gear." "Let off the gas before you shift and it will go into the next gear." "What about red lights?" I asked. "Pop it in neutral, kill the motor, and then start all over again" Zeke replied. Armed with this information I was determined to give it a try. This was all new to me and I needed to concentrate, so I left the radio off and rolled up all the windows except for the drivers. With the engine off I put the transmission in first gear, waited for a break in traffic, then hit the starter. The Chevelle lurched forward as the starter was engaged, and as soon as the motor fired, I was off! Shifting was actually easy, letting off the gas just like Zeke said, the trans did go into the next gear. It took a little pressure and was a bit notchy, but it worked and got me home. The Chevelle would be down for the count for a few days until I was able to repair it. So much for racing at North Main! It would just have to wait.

The next day after work I had the front of the Chevelle up on car ramps and removed the counter shaft to gain access to the block pivot. I had a spare in my parts stash but I had to get the piece out that broke off in the block. Working in a very tight area, I used a small center punch and started tapping on the edge of the broken stud. I got lucky as it slowly started to back out of the hole, and before long the broken piece was removed. After I got everything re-assembled and adjusted, I decided to test the pedal action before I took the car off of the ramps. I enlisted the help of my sister to push on the clutch pedal while I watched from underneath. Right away I could see there was a bigger problem. My first clue was that my sister basically had to use both feet to depress the clutch pedal and the second clue was that when the pedal was pushed, the car's body would actually move on the frame. It's not like the body bushings were loose or worn out either. I couldn't believe that the pressure plate was so stiff that it was causing that amount of flex in the body. With that amount of pressure something had to give, and I realized that it was only a matter of time before something else broke. The logical choice was to switch out the pressure plate, so the Chevelle stayed up on the car ramps and I started the process of removing the transmission. I had become sort of an expert on the R&R procedure for the transmission. 1) Remove driveshaft. 2) Remove shifter handle. 3) Remove speedometer cable. 4) Remove four bolts retaining the transmission to the bellhousing and remove transmission. 5) Remove clutch fork spring and loosen fork adjusting rod. 6) Remove throw out bearing. 7) Remove bellhousing to gain access to the pressure plate, disc, and flywheel. Now that the Jean LaFoote pressure plate was removed, I had to decide what I was going to replace it with.

Everyone I knew ran 3 finger clutches. They were stiffer then a diaphragm clutch and held more pressure. When I first converted the car to a manual transmission I put in a diaphragm clutch. The pedal pressure was fairly light and it wasn't long before the disc started slipping. I needed a pressure plate with more clamping force so I upgraded to a Borg & Beck style, aka 3 finger, pressure plate. When I installed the big block I upgraded the clutch to a 12 inch unit, so I couldn't use my old setup as it was only 10-1/2 inches. My initial thought was to buy another 3 finger clutch with less pressure, probably a McCloud or Hays unit. I decided to head over to J & M Speed Center to see what they had. The owner, Phil, was working the counter when I got there and I started asking him about clutches. I told him about my clutch problem and he said he might have just what I was looking for. He went back into the warehouse and brought out a black and orange box that said Centerforce on it. Phil told me it was a new style of diaphragm clutch that used centrifugal weights to increase the clamping force. It was the best of both worlds, the clamping force of a 3 finger with the light pedal pressure of a diaphragm. Needless to say I was sold, so I bought a new Centerforce clutch kit to install in the Chevelle.

The new clutch went in without any problems and worked flawlessly. The pedal was easy to push and the action was smooth. Now the Chevelle was ready for North Main and I couldn't wait for the weekend. Before you could say "Bob's your uncle", it was Saturday evening. When I got to North Main it was filling up fast. Tonight was hot and you could already tell there was going to be a lot of racing action. Both spectators and racers parked on the shoulder of the street, parking lights on if you were looking for a race. Guys would walk up and down the line of cars checking out the competition, and several were checking out my Chevelle. I got more then a few questions about the rear tires and if the car had been mini-tubbed. Racing had already started and I was eager to find a race. Just then I spotted a guy I knew from high school, Jim, in his Camaro. You really couldn't miss his car with the polished tunnel ram sticking out of the hood and the whine of the Pete Jackson gear drive. I flagged him down and he pulled over. The first thing he said to me is "you gonna race that thing tonight or did you break something else?" "Only if you have the balls to race me first." I retorted. "Your on!" Jim said, and with that I fired up the Chevelle and followed him to the staging area. North Main was a total of 4 lanes, so with 2 lanes side by side it made it a little easier to race without worrying about oncoming traffic. Drag racing would run North to South and the "staging area" was nothing more then a line that someone had painted across the Southbound lanes. Soon we were lined up and waiting for the guy who was staging that night to signal us with his flashlight. I found out later that a lot of people thought that Jim was going to take me as his Camaro had a reputation for being really fast. We both came off the line hard and Jim's high reving small block got the jump on me. By the time I grabbed second gear I had caught up and third gear saw me pulling away from him. John Dahl had told me that the motor should handle 7500 rpm all day but I was shifting at 7000 and that big block was screaming! By the time I hit 4th I was a solid car length ahead and breaking away. The race was over before I knew it and I had won! Most of the racers would just slow down and do a u-turn in the street to head back, which is exactly what Jim did. I was sure he wanted a rematch but before I raced again I wanted to look my car over real quick. It was too dark out to do this on the side of North Main so I continued to drive up the street about a mile to the only business that was out there. It had a small parking lot with a light, just enough for me to check things out. As I was parked there looking over the car I could see all the cars in the distance and hear another race going down. Just then I saw at least half a dozen police cars speed right by me towards where the racing was happening. Another swath of cop cars were coming from the opposite direction, lights blazing. A bust was going down and it looked to me like a big one! I jumped in my car, left my lights off, and quickly headed down the street away from all the action.

Getting a Clue

2025-08-13T20:16:00.000-07:00

It seems most project cars that are on the market are being sold due to burn out, either mentally, monetary, or both. If you're lucky, every once in awhile the car gods might decide to throw a deal your way. But in my humble opinion, buying someone else's project car is a lot like playing the game Clue. You start out with very little information and as you dive deeper into it, more clues start to reveal themselves. Recently I was fortunate enough to accompany my lifelong friend Duane on a trip to pick up not one, but two Pontiac Grand Prix hardtops! The car gods were in an especially good mood because he scored them both for $1000! Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

There was not a lot of information available about them. The owner had passed away and his family was selling them. The cars had been stored for decades in a rural storage lot so their overall condition was suspect, but they were both bucket seat cars with center consoles, so could you really go wrong for a thousand dollars? Duane and I are old school and came loaded for bear. We also did this very methodically, one car at a time, swapping out flat tires, airing up the ones that would hold air, and using a chain and a come-along to pull the cars up on the trailer. No electric winches or battery powered impact wrenches here, just brawn and muscle that we paid for dearly the next day! I call this the "young of mind, old of body" syndrome.

Yours truly pretending I'm in the pits at a NASCAR race.

Getting ready to hand winch this behemoth up on the trailer.

The wide track Pontiac is loaded and ready to go.

What we have is two almost identical Pontiac's that had been sinking into the terra firma for decades, but there was still a lot more to figure out. Both trunks were locked with no keys, and one of the car's hood was chained shut, so it's engine remained a mystery for now. All the seats were in amazing shape considering how long these vehicles sat. We also found a lot of evidence of the cars being covered with heavy tarps at one time so that is what probably saved both interiors from total annihilation. Once each Grand Prix was relocated to their new home, the inspection began. Up first was cutting the lock and chain that secured one of the Pontiac's hood to see what lurked in the engine bay. We knew both cars had the 4 speed Hydra-Matic transmission and one had what appeared to be it's original 389 V-8, but the other was a complete mystery. Upon cutting the lock and opening the hood, Duane was greeted by every Pontiac enthusiasts dream - a 421 cubic inch V-8 with tri-power carburetion! Talk about hitting the jackpot!

This very special air cleaner is a clue to what lies below it.

A sight for sore eyes, factory multiple carburetion.

As the clues started to reveal themselves, there were still some major unknowns. The 389 in the other Grand Prix was totally complete and stock. It still wore it's factory Carter 4 BBL carburetor along with dual exhaust but it's condition was a total mystery. It was as though the car had been driven into storage and parked. But Duane didn't just fall off the turnip truck, and we both knew better as our combined 90 years of automotive experience told us so. There was a reason, but what was it? Duane was determined to get to the bottom of it and began working on the 389 in earnest. He actually got the engine to start and run! This ruled out any major engine problems like a spun bearing or broken timing chain. The radiator was bone dry and the system appeared to still be sealed. Probably a rusted out freeze plug, right? Upon further inspection the next clue revealed itself.

Pretty sure this cracked block is why the car was parked!

With both engines more or less sorted out, curiosity was killing the cat so we had to find out what was in those locked trunks. Both cars were sitting really low in the rear and we figured either the trunks were loaded with cement blocks or the coil springs were collapsed. First up was the Grand Prix with the 421. Upon getting the trunk open, besides getting attacked by wasps, Duane was greeted by a cornucopia of Pontiac parts. The previous owner had apparently used the Pontiac's portly trunk to store his spare parts.

All this and more was discovered in the trunk of the Grand Prix!

Next up was the 389 powered Grand Prix to see what treasures were tucked away in it's trunk. Using the clues divulged in the first trunk, I jokingly told Duane that there was probably a tri-power stashed in there. Low and behold, there was a tri-power manifold and more!

Another set of 8 lug wheels and a tri power!

With both trunks sorted out it was time to solve the mystery of the 421 powered Grand Prix. The engine looked as if it had been rebuilt and installed but with nothing really hooked up. It needed a starter, which was in the trunk, so that had to be addressed first. Upon further inspection another clue revealed itself. The flywheel was missing! Someone had bolted the engine to the transmission but failed to install it. Duane had no choice but to remove the trans in order to install the flywheel, which conveniently was also found in the trunk.

No car lifts here, this transmission was removed the old fashioned way!

After the Hydra-Matic was removed another clue revealed itself. The reason they did not install the flywheel was because the 421 that was installed in the Grand Prix was a later model motor. In 1962 the 389 would have had a crank hub that measured 2.600 whereas the 421 had a crank hub measurement of 2.750, so there was no way to bolt the Hydra-Matics special flywheel and spring hub to the 421. The original starter would not work either so that presented another problem. With a vast array of Pontiac parts at his disposal, Duane quickly formulated a plan. The Hydra-Matic would be swapped out for a Turbo-Hydramatic TH400 transmission. The flex plate for the TH400 will bolt up to the 421 crank and a later model starter could be used. Once the clues were figured out it all started to come together.

Starter and flexplate problem solved!

Doesn't everyone have a good used TH400 in their parts stash?

As I write this the final details are being completed on the transmission swap for the Grand Prix. Next up will be going through the brake system and maybe using one of the sets of 8 lug wheels to put this Pontiac on the road. So for this automotive version of Clue, if you accused Professor Pontiac in the driveway with a wrench, your guess would be correct!

Those Were The Days, My Friend

2025-06-30T22:07:00.000-07:00

Last winter I got bored, so I decided to get a part time job to keep busy during my retirement. I called upon my past experience in auto parts and landed a job at the local parts store. Well the "winter only" gig just kept going and here I am, still working. I foolishly thought that I could relive some of my glory days as a counterman. Heck, I still know the part number for Standard Motor Products Chevrolet V-8 distributor points, DR2270XP. Guess what, points aren't really sold anymore, except maybe for an old tractor. No need to memorize part numbers as you have a computer filled full of them, along with google, right at your fingertips. Don't know what a part is? Simply take a picture of it with your phone and hit search. Bingo! Instant results that can make anyone, and I mean anyone, look like they actually know what they are doing. Don't have any automotive or parts experience? No problem, it's really the computer doing all the work. The real eye opener was the prices. I know everything goes up and of course you have inflation, but how the heck does automatic transmission fluid go from 99 cents to over $12 a quart? Talk about sticker shock!

There is just no place, or need, for a former parts professional in the industry anymore. Nobody needs a carburetor diagnosis, timing suggestions, or tune up tips anymore. It's really a young persons game, old folks need not apply, except maybe in management and you can forget that. It's the same old corporate bull crap, jump through hoops to get your "bonus", work an insane amount of hours, chase an ever increasing quota, etc, etc. Been there, done that. No thanks! I think it's time I hang up my counterman's hat for good. I would rather remember the good old days of selling parts then today's pick and click and push this months promo pitch. Call me old, but those were the days my friend, and they are gone forever.

Still Swimming

2025-01-10T08:07:00.000-08:00

Recently, while perusing the google universe, I ran across a "Auto Bloggers Database" website. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to investigate it further to see what I could find. The site is Feedspot and they have a auto bloggers database that is bar none. As I was browsing their A to Z listings of auto blogs, I spotted "Classic Car Blogs", so I jumped down that rabbit hole to see what I could find. I was a bit surprised to find yours truly listed as number 28 under the 50 Best Classic Cars and Websites in 2025. Wow, I am truly humbled. Unless it's AI generated, then no.

While I'm on the subject of self promotion, a seemingly random blog of mine has gone pre-viral, amassing an astonishing 50k plus views! Gee, I wonder why? Could it be it's subject matter? Yes, a mere drop in the bucket in TikTok land, but I will take what I can get.

Another New Beer

2025-01-01T20:16:00.000-08:00

As I get older, every new year is like a trying a new beer. Some are really good and others are crap. The last four beers have been some of the worst that I have tasted. I'm talking hogwash like Bud Light. Hey, some folks like that swill, so the last four beers to them have been nothing but thirst quenching. To each their own I say. Personally I am looking forward to the next four ales, but I am going to take it one bellywash at a time. As for my annual prediction of things to come, well lets just say the jury is still out. I would love to say that it's going to be all rainbows and unicorns, but the stark truth is the incoming POTUS has a hell of a lot of work to do. I can't shake the feeling of something major and ominous happening in the upcoming year. I pray that I am wrong, but if my past predictions are any clue, this one will follow suit.

So what does the new year have in store for the Amberlight Garage you ask? (Okay, maybe you didn't ask but I am going to tell you anyways) Well, financing has been secured for the major addition, so vetting contractors will be the next step. While technically still in the planning stages, the new Amberlight will be larger then the old digs, but it will be far from a "garage mahal". A large mezzanine is planned, along with a dedicated fabrication/welding room. And with any luck, project Yellowjacket will emerge from Helm's Deep and work will begin in earnest on it. Hey, all it takes is time and money, and I just happen to have a little of each!

The Last Call

2024-11-20T20:39:00.001-08:00

Although this post is completely unrelated to classic cars or anything automotive, it is relevant to life, maybe yours but definitely mine. As a surprise for my wife on our anniversary I decided to buy another project car. Just kidding! I'm not that daft... Actually I bought tickets to one of her favorite musicians, Alan Jackson. This is his last tour and is aptly named "Last Call, One More For The Road." Let me tell you, this man puts on one heck of a concert! The show was like a trip down memory lane with a lot of his classic music videos and cool stories that Alan recounted throughout the show.

We attended his last show for 2024 in Salt Lake City, Utah and it dawned on me that this is it for him. Everyone that was there could clearly tell that he loves performing but time was catching up with him. It was painful to watch him walk across the stage and lean on a special rig when he was singing. I think he was in pain but wanted to be in top form for his fans so he declined taking any pain killers. I had not seen a recent picture of him so it was a bit of a surprise for me when I saw him up on stage. My first thought was: man, he looks old. My second thought was: man, he is only a few years older then me! It was just like when you see a classmate from your high school days and the first thing you notice is how old they look. Then reality comes crashing in when you realize that you are the same age and probably look just as old, or older!

While the brain is a physical organ that can be seen and studied, the mind is a conceptual idea representing our thoughts, feelings, and consciousness, which cannot be physically touched or observed. My brain may be physically old but my mind is consciously young, hence my reaction when I see someone around my age and think they look like Methuselah. Now I have been told numerous times that I look young for my age, but anyone would look young as compared to a 969 year old! Perhaps Henry Ford said it best: “Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.”

Toe the Line

2024-11-14T20:42:00.000-08:00

It's probably best that I stick to what I know, and low and behold, another project vehicle has claimed residence at the Amberlight Garage. My latest acquisition is a 1989 Dodge RAM 4 wheel drive truck. This was the last of the "box styled" pickups and the big ram head hood ornament always reminded me of the bulldog ornament on a Mack truck. Bought as a former daily driver, it's not exactly a restoration candidate, but more of a drive it while you fix it up project.

I had been looking for another horse to put in the stable and was really in need of a pickup. Even when I am not in the market to buy I still pay attention and monitor classic car prices. It's like the stock market for me. There had been a steady decline in asking prices and after the usual feeding frenzy (as I call it) I noticed that vehicles were starting to take longer to sell. This is the perfect storm scenario for buying. Now the only challenge was finding a truck that was relatively rust free and that's not an easy feat in the neck of the woods that I live in. The vast majority that I looked at made most rust buckets look good. I'm talking Titanic levels of rust. The ad for the Dodge did not mention rust and that is usually a bad thing. Folks like to brag about "rust free" but tend to forget to mention it when it's bad. To say I was surprised when I looked at this truck would be an understatement. It had California levels of rust, as in Southern California, as in none! Sure it had a few spots of surface rust, but no cancer, rot, or flaking metal. I couldn't even find any bondo! The person selling it was the second owner, the original being his grandfather. He had a lot of the original paperwork for it and even had the stock rims that came on the truck from the factory! Now I had been watching this particular truck for a little while so I knew it had been for sale for more then a couple of weeks so I made a cash offer lower then the asking price. I didn't want to low ball him too bad because I wanted the truck and I don't think he realized just how few rust free trucks there are where we live! Honestly I didn't know why the truck hadn't sold sooner just for that fact. Remember what I said earlier about the perfect storm? Well I think this was it and that was confirmed when my offer was accepted almost as fast as I had said it.

As I do with all my projects, I started a list of repairs and modifications that I want to do on the Dodge. The suspension is all original with the exception of some of the steering components so one of my first mods will be a complete suspension kit. The truck still has it's original exhaust system so that will be replaced as well. The engine is all stock, original, and runs well but a Magnum 360 swap might be a future mod. Shoot, half the fun of getting a new project is planning what you are going to do to it! It has been quite a few years since I have owned a truck so I am going to have fun with this one. Little by little I'll get it done. I just have to keep on truckin'...

North Main - Chapter Six

2024-10-02T20:45:00.000-07:00

Up to this point all my time down at North Main was as a spectator or helping out fellow racers with their cars. I really wanted to race but was lacking one crucial item to do so - horsepower! In anticipation of more power, I had already upgraded the rear end on my Chevelle to a 373 posi 12 bolt axle. The transmission was a 4 speed M22 Muncie "Rock Crusher", along with a Hays sintered metal clutch and a Lakewood scatter shield. Although I had acquired various small block parts and could have cobbled together a decent 327 or 350, I wanted some serious horsepower to replace the 307 that was still motivating the Malibu.

My first ever job was as a helper in an engine rebuilding shop called Auto Engine Exchange. The owner, Bill, taught me many things, including an old racers saying: There is no replacement for displacement. I knew I needed cubic inches and the best way to achieve that in the eighties was with a porcupine headed big block. Even back then big block chevys were expensive, so I was always on the look out for a suitable candidate. The local self serve wrecking yard was a decent source for good prospects. During my many trips to Ecology Auto Wrecking I found more then a few 396 Impalas and a bunch of worn out 454 powered trucks. A complete engine could be had for $200 bucks, but the cost could quickly spiral out of control if it needed to be rebuilt, so I was always looking for that diamond in the rough. I was hoping to get lucky and find a wrecked car that had a recently rebuilt engine, or even evidence of a valve job. I started more junk yard motors then I can count, some with disastrous consequences! Local networking turned up a few leads, one of which was a very worn out "race motor" and another was a 366 industrial block that someone was trying to pass off as a 396 passenger car motor. One other lead ended up not even being a big block, it was a 400 small block. Now I had read a few articles on the "big inch" small block and the potential for horsepower that it had, so I was intrigued. At a asking price of $25 dollars, I snapped it up and brought it to my go-to machine shop, Motor Supply and Machine. I was fortunate that my neighbor, John Dahl, was the lead machinist at Motor Supply. He was a perfectionist by nature and I trusted him, especially when it came to engine or machine work. I brought the block to him for hot tanking and to get it magnafluxed for cracks. I loved going to that machine shop as there was always something special being worked on. This time was no different as John showed me a 454 blower motor that he was building for his 1970 Nova Super Sport. I left the shop in awe that day after seeing that big block with it's aluminum heads, BDS blower and Enderle fuel injection. A few days later I heard back from John about my block and it was not good news. The block had a crack between two of the cylinders and was basically junk. He asked what my plans were for it and I told him about wanting to replace the motor in my Chevelle, and also about my fruitless hunt for a big block. Then he told me that the final assembly was all done on his 454 and he would be dropping it in the Nova soon, and would I be interested in buying his old motor? I hesitantly asked how much, because I knew how bad ass his "old" 396 was. When he told me he would sell it to me for $500 dollars, all I said was "when can I pick it up?"

A couple of weeks later I got the message I had been waiting for, my motor was ready for pickup. I thought maybe I would be helping John remove the motor from his Nova but to my surprise when I showed up at his house the following Saturday, the motor had already been pulled out and was looking almost new. John told me that he decided to freshen it up so that it didn't give me any problems. Typical machinist. He knew I had a 4 speed transmission so he swapped out the cam (the Nova was an automatic), gave me the new cam card and instructed me on the break in procedure. Wow! I couldn't wait to put this wicked big block in my Chevelle! The motor was technically 402 cubic inches (.030 over 396). It had rectangular port heads with stainless steel valves, Crane roller rockers, Cloyes true roller timing chain, TRW forged pistons, Melling high volume oil pump, Milodon oil pan and windage tray, and an Edelbrock intake manifold. In anticipation of getting the big block I had put the word out that my 307 was for sale. I thought it might be a tough sell because most gear heads viewed Chevrolet's 307 as an abomination. It was actually a 283 block with a 327 crank but performance was not the first thing that came to mind, especially if compared to other small blocks. My friend Johnny ending up buying it for his '66 Impala low rider as he thought it would be a good upgrade to his 283. He also bought a polished Edelbrock "shoe box" tunnel ram with dual Holley carbs from me to put on it! Now flush with a little extra cash, I decided to purchase a new set of Hooker Headers for the soon to be big block Chevelle. I cruised down to J&M Speed Center to purchase the headers only to find out that they had to order the ones that I wanted, and I had to wait a week for them to be shipped or I could do a customer pick up. I had been jonesing on that big block for awhile now and didn't want to wait a minute longer then I had to, so I chose the will call option, and am I glad I did. The Hooker Header company was about 20 minutes from where I lived. At the time they were located in Ontario, California so I made the short drive over there to pick up my headers. I showed up at their will call and was told it would a few minutes while they pulled my order. I had no sooner sat down when a guy walks in from the back and asks me if I would like to see how headers are made. I couldn't say "heck yeah" fast enough! I soon found myself on a personal tour of the Hooker Header factory. To say it was cool would be an understatement. When I left there with my new set of headers I had a whole new appreciation of how headers are manufactured.

On my drive home I swung by D&H Rentals to get an engine hoist. They rented the type that you could tow behind your vehicle which made it convenient, and a one man job, to get home. Now everyone who I had talked to about this engine swap told me that I needed big block frame perches for the motor mounts in order to get the engine to bolt up. After trying in vane to find a used set I ended up going to the local Chevy dealer, DeAnza Chevrolet, to see what their parts department had to offer. The counterman pulled up a diagram on a microfiche machine and then spun it around so I could see it. After verifying the exact parts I needed he disappeared in the back. A few moments later he comes back and tells me that he located a set at a dealer back east. The price was a shock and the wait to get them was even more shocking! I decided to ask him if he knew what the difference was between small block and big block frame mounts. He told me only the height. Big block perches were about one inch taller then small block. I decided to pass on purchasing new perches and thought if worse comes to worse I could use washers to space up the small block perches. Boy was I wrong, but in a good way. When the engine compartment was finally ready for the big block and I was lowering it slowly into position, the motor mounts lined up perfectly with the small block perches! Yes it took a little jostling and the oil pan only had about 1/2 inch clearance in a few spots, but it fit!

So there I was on a late Saturday afternoon, the 396 nestled in the Chevelle's engine bay, and as I am tightening the final header bolts it suddenly dawns on me that I made no provision for the exhaust system! Jerl's muffler shop was already closed and I really wanted to drive the car but it's not like I could go cruising with open headers. I quickly formulated a plan and used a hacksaw to cut the turbo mufflers off of my old exhaust system, then I grabbed the reducers that I bought with the headers and walked up the street to my neighbors house to see if he could weld them up. My neighbor, Bobby Goodwin, was a circle track racer and had everything in his garage to fabricate and work on his race car. Bobby and his brother Wayne raced at Corona Raceway in the half mile dirt oval and figure eight. I spent many a Saturday helping him prep his car and then watching him race. Bob and Wayne were like mentors to me growing up and I learned a lot from both of them. As I got older and was preoccupied with cars, I spent less and less time at his house and the dirt track. I was glad to see that he was home but I totally spaced and forgot that it was Saturday. I saw his race car loaded up on the trailer and it dawned on me that he was going racing. Fudge! Only I didn't say fudge. He was still loading stuff up into his truck when he spotted me and asked what was up. I explained that I needed a little welding done and showed him what I was working with. Bob said to me, "You know how to weld, the garage is open." "Just make sure to close everything up when you are done." I couldn't say thanks fast enough and made a beeline to his garage. I used his acetylene torch along with a coat hanger for filler rod to weld the reducers to the mufflers. With this setup the mufflers were basically being bolted directly to the header collector. I figured that it would be quieter then open headers and it was the only choice I had if I wanted to go cruising later that night.

After double-triple checking everything and pre lubing the engine I was ready to fire it up. From the cam card that John had given me I knew that it had a very healthy cam in it and I was eager to hear how it sounded. After the first startup and initial cam break in, where I varied the engine rpm between 1500 and 3000 for about 20 minutes, I was ready to change the oil and take it out for a spin. The hood was still off the car but that was fine with me as it would just show off my new big block all the better. The cam ended up being radical enough that I had to do some fine tuning on the Holley carburetor to get the engine to respond the way that I wanted it to, but the sound was incredible! I'm sure you could hear me coming a block away! I was really glad that I had installed a decent stereo system in the Chevelle as I needed it to be loud to hear the music over the exhaust. I had a Pioneer Super Tuner, an Alpine graphic equalizer, Carver 200 watt amp, and 6 speakers. Now all I had to do was wash the car, Armor All the tires and dash, shower, throw on a Izod shirt along with my 501 Levi's and I was ready to go cruising. I was driving down Magnolia Avenue to the newest cruise area when I noticed a large crowd had gathered in the Gemco parking lot. Picture this: I am turning into the parking lot in my blue '69 Chevelle and Loverboy's Working for the Weekend comes on the radio. I have the stereo cranked up, the engine is loud, sounds wicked, and is totally visible because my hood is off. As if on cue, everyone standing around turns and looks at me as I pull into the lot. I am in first gear and goose the throttle a couple of times which really lifts the front end of my Chevelle due to the Moroso drag springs and shocks. After idling past a seemingly endless gauntlet of people I found an open spot by where some of my friends were parked. As soon as I shut down the engine a crowd formed around the car. It wasn't long before one of the guys looked at me and said "North Main?" "Next weekend" I said, "After the motor is broke in."

FranktoidTM No. 26 - Wiping Out Low Prices

2024-01-28T19:03:00.000-08:00

It is pretty much common knowledge that almost everything is getting more expensive now-a-days. Unless you're living under a rock, you have noticed. All you have to do is pay attention to the stuff you regularly purchase and watch the prices. This appears to be a two tier approach because if the price has not noticeably gone up then the product appears to have shrunk. This is referred to as "shrinkflation". Case in point: The other day I bought lunch at McDonald's and my Filet-O-Fish sandwich was literally the size of a slider. Even the boxes that hold them have gotten smaller. Excuses abound for shrinkflation, from being called a conspiracy theory to blaming it on the Mandela effect - another words they were always that size, you just thought they were larger! Call me crazy then because I finished it in three bites and my mouth sure hasn't gotten any bigger... And imagine my surprise (or lack thereof) when I saw an ad for $18 off wiper blades! Just how expensive are these blades?! The last set I bought was like half of that. Are wiper blades on the inflation station destined for even higher prices? Maybe it's just the high prices of the seller, who I definitely won't name here out of common decency, but they might just rhyme with Zappa.

Wild Horses

2024-01-05T19:29:00.000-08:00

Check out this video I ran across while perusing the interwebs. It was created by Noah Bowman who is one heck of a talented artist!

2024 - A Knew Year

2024-01-01T07:52:00.000-08:00

It is once again a new year and it has become sort of a tradition here at Frank's Classic Car Blog that I try and predict what lies ahead in the upcoming twelve months. If my past predictions are any indication it would seem that I just might know what is in store for both donkeys, elephants, and the rest of the "basket of deplorables". There is a lot of fear mongering going on and tons of conspiracy theories floating around, mainly about aliens and AI. Everyone seems to know this or know that and most folks are getting to the point that they don't know what to believe. Without doing a deep dive let me just say this about 2024: Hold on, you ain't seen nothing yet. A year from now I can look back and say "I knew it!" or eat crow, and eating crow would be a lot better for what I think is in store for We the People.

In the new year I need to dedicate more time to this blog of mine. Some people may be looking for a distraction from all the white noise and Frank's Classic Car Blog aims to please. Expect updates on Project Yellowjacket, the "new" Amberlight Garage, and very possibly a new project. I also think that we are going to see a dip in classic car prices in 2024. I follow the market closely and have already seen a significant drop, especially on project cars. Bullishly I can also predict the following for this blog: hold on, you ain't seen nothing yet.

FranktoidTM No. 25 - The Last Post of 2023

2023-12-31T20:42:00.000-08:00

Wow, time really flies! Seems like just yesterday I was making New Year promises that I wouldn't keep. I'm starting to sound like a politician! Well I can honestly say that I got absolutely nothing done on Project Yellowjacket. I did manage to buy more parts for it and squirrel them away but that's about it. As far as the blog goes I have decided to completely turn it over to AI, that way I can claim plausible deniability about all of it's content. I mean AI is going to take over everything anyways, right? By the look of things I think the White House has already converted to AI. Switching gears, the Amberlight is in shambles with major delays on the addition and I have also decided to build a large covered car corral to store future projects, or maybe hide the large alien craft I discovered. Oops, did I say car corral? I meant horse corral. Right honey? Horse corral, that's what I'm building... Stay tuned for details on the car err, I mean horse corral. Now if you will excuse me I have a Zoom meeting with Giorgio Tsoukalos.

North Main - Chapter Five

2023-08-28T19:37:00.006-07:00

Birds of a feather flock together, that would best sum up my friends, acquaintances,and people I knew growing up and especially during my mid to late teens. We ate, drank, and slept cars. Duane had (and still has) a '67 Pontiac GTO with a 400 cubic inch V-8, tri-power carburetors and a 4-speed manual trans. Jim had a '67 Chevy Camaro with a small block 350 equipped with a polished tunnel ram with dual quads. Bob had a '67 Chevy Chevelle with a 327 and a 4-speed, Paul had a '70 Dodge Challenger with a 440 and slapstick automatic, Zeke had a '67 Chevy El Camino with a 327 wearing big 'n little Cragar SS mags, Buddy had a '65 Chevy Chevelle Super Sport with a wicked 327, Roy had a '70 Chevy Chevelle SS 396 with a 4-speed, Dominic had a '70 Chevy El Camino with a 300 horsepower 350 wearing Daisy mags, Francesco had (and still has) a '65 Chevrolet Corvette with a 425 horsepower 396 big block and a 4-speed (that I actually got to drive!), Danny had a '67 Pontiac Firebird with a small block Chevy in it, lil' Erik had a '70 Chevy Chevelle that he equipped with hand controls due to his paralysis, and Rob had a '69 Pontiac Firebird. There of course were many more but these are the ones that stuck with me.

Many of these cars were regulars on the cruise circuit and more than a few raced at North Main. As was common during this era, a lot of guys were referred to by their last name. I also recall Downing and his pro street '71 Chevy Vega, Mix and his '65 Chevy Chevelle Malibu, Hudson and his '69 Chevy Z28 Camaro with nitrous, Lattica and his '67 Chevy Nova with a Doug Nash 5 speed, Atkins and his '70 Plymouth Roadrunner with a 440, Larkins and any number of his race ready big block Mopars, the Cruz brothers who had (and both still have) a '68 Chevy Camaro rs/ss and a '65 Ford Mustang fastback, and the Whittier Boys with their pro street '55 Ford T-Bird and small block Anglia. Like I had said, towards the end more and more purpose built race cars started showing up on trailers which really caught the attention of the local authorities.

Everyone that I knew also worked on their own rides. There was no internet to search for answers so networking among fellow enthusiasts was necessary if you didn't know the answer yourself. If I needed to talk to an expert I would just call them. I picked the brains of some of the best of the best. When I had a question about a Pontiac I called Nunzi Romano from Nunzi's Automotive or Ken Crocie from H-O Racing Specialties (whose son Kevin I would later work with at Super Shops). I called Bill Summer from Summer Brothers Racing when I had a question about my big block Chevy gear drive, George Spink when I had a fabrication question (it also helped that he lived just a few blocks from my parents), for camshaft questions I talked with either Jerry or Don Johanson from Howard's Cams and for high performance parts recommendations none other then Phil Braybrooks from J&M Speed Center. Sometimes you figured it out on the first try and other times it was trial and error. I vividly remember a recurring problem I was having on my '69 Chevelle. Just prior to my big block swap I was trying to squeeze out as much power as possible from the original 307 small block. The engine had been balanced and had a healthy Crane Cam in it. I wanted as much compression as possible so I had installed an early set of 194 small chamber heads that had been surfaced and port matched. To top it off I put on the recently released Edelbrock Performer intake manifold. The problem was that I was oil fouling plugs but only on a couple of cylinders. I pulled the heads off numerous times and had them checked. Each cylinder had good compression and I had installed the rings myself so I was leaning towards a collapsed oil control ring, but on two cylinders? What are the chances of that? More clues were revealed during the subsequent reassembly and testing. I was still getting oil fouling but now it had switched one of the cylinders! One of the previous suspect cylinders was now firing correctly with no sign of oil burning on the plug... what the heck! I was really confused now and needed to consult someone with a lot more mechanical experience than me, but who?

I went over to see my friend Jim as he had a lot of experience with small blocks. After explaining what was happening to my Chevelle motor he was as confused as I was but suggested that we go ask his neighbor Fred. Fred was quite a bit older then we were and was a GM line mechanic. He had decades of experience and always seemed to be working on a car when he was at home. After explaining to Fred what was happening to my motor he sat down and started asking me some questions. He was particularly interested in the heads and how much had been milled off of them. His educated guess was that the intake manifold was not sealing correctly and was pulling oil from the galley below the intake. I had never heard of this before and it never dawned on me that it was even possible. He told me what to look for so I went back to tear down the top of the motor. After removing the intake and carefully inspecting the gasket I spotted it. On the bottom side of the intake gasket, at the end that was closest to the oil galley, the gasket was wet with oil. I checked both the intake manifold and the head with a straight edge and also did a dry fit test on the intake to see how much clearance was between the intake and head mounting surface. It looked good until I put the cork sealing strips on the front and rear of the galley. With the intake in place the cork raised it up too far and there was my problem! Fred had suspected that the milled heads might be causing some problems and when I told him what I had discovered he told me to throw away the cork ends and use RTV silicone. I bought some fresh FelPro blue intake gaskets, a tube of Permatex silicone and the next morning proceeded to button everything back up.

That morning happened to be a Saturday so I got an early start in anticipation of cruising Market Street later that evening. My friend Johnny and his buddy Jose showed up and were soon helping me. After the initial start up and setting the timing I was ready for its shake down run. Johnny had ridden in my Chevelle numerous times so he kind of knew what to expect performance wise. Everyone climbed in and I took off, anxious to see and feel the results. The very first thing I noticed was the power, it was like a whole different motor! This motor was pulling hard! Johnny was shocked at the power difference and Jose was just sitting in the back seat, wide eyed with a smile on his face. I was really feeling good when all of a sudden the motor started losing power. I could feel it as it was happening and then I noticed the smoke. I immediately pulled over, leaving the engine idle while I got out and popped open the hood. It now had a noticeable miss at idle and was running rough, all the same symptoms as before! Man was I pissed off! I couldn't believe it but the same problem was back. All that work for nothing! I jumped back in and started to head back to the house. The motor seemed like it was getting worse and started loading up on me. I was at a red light waiting to turn right on Van Buren Blvd when the engine shut off. As I was cranking the starter to get it started again the light turns green and of course cars start honking at me. I get the engine to fire up, proceed to rev it to about 6500 rpm, and dump the clutch... right across from a Police car waiting at the intersection! Of course I did not see the cop car, I was too engrossed in getting the car started and getting back home. The Chevelle ended up getting sideways as I turned through the intersection and was billowing smoke from both the rear tires and the exhaust, but I'm sure the fuzz only saw the tire smoke. My two passengers saw the cop before I did and tried in vain to get me to lay off the gas pedal but I was hell bent on teaching that motor a lesson. There was so much smoke that I literally could only see the police car's red and blue lights before I saw the car itself so it was a good block or two before I pulled over.

Now at that point in my young life I had had my share of traffic tickets. Exhibition of speed, speeding, California stop (rolling through a stop sign), engaging in a speed contest, reckless driving, and too many fix-it tickets to count. Heck, I made John Milner from American Graffiti look like a choir boy. I was in serious danger of losing my drivers license and I thought this stunt was the final nail in the coffin. When the officer walked up to my window I felt my heart sink as he was not a city cop, he was a CHP Officer! Everyone knew that the Highway Patrol did not mess around. They did not pull people over to give them warnings or warm hugs, they are all business all the time, or so I was led to believe. The first thing he says to me was "What the heck were you thinking and what's your problem?!" I thought honesty was the best policy here so I started off with "I was not thinking, that's the problem" and then proceeded to tell him the whole story about the engine, which Johnny and Jose collaborated, right up to the very end when I lost my shit and dumped the clutch. The officer was very patient and listened to everything. After verifying that I had a valid driver's license and lecturing me on my disregard of my passenger's safety, he said he understood what I was saying and that I needed to think about how my actions can affect others. He then wished me luck on figuring out what was wrong with the engine and told me I was free to go! Wait, did I just get a "warning" from a CHP officer? No one I knew would believe me so I was glad I had two witnesses with me.

So it was back to the drawing board on the Chevelle's engine problem, or in my case back to talk with Fred. Fred was asking a lot more questions, this time it was about the gaskets. He had worked on more than a few Corvettes and they all had aluminum intake manifolds. He told me they used a different gasket than the cast iron intakes, it was a different material. That got me thinking and after another tear down I noticed the intake gasket had failed again, this time on multiple runners. I knew it was getting sufficient clamping force but the material still failed. Fred suspected it was too hard of a gasket material so he suggested I get a pair of GM intake gaskets that were specifically for a Corvette. I went down to the parts counter at De Anza Chevrolet and picked up a set. I noticed that the material was softer and seemed thicker so I was eager to try them out. It turned out that those gaskets did solve my engine's problem and a few years later Edelbrock issued a technical bulletin saying not to use FelPro blue gaskets on their aluminum intakes as leaks could develop. Go figure, we found that out before they did, the hard way!

FranktoidTM No. 24 - AI Bloggers, The Future or Fiction?

2023-07-20T20:31:00.002-07:00

Sometimes I really wonder about this blog. I strive to make it free of click bait, sponsored content, and "guest articles" which is really just someone trying to sell something. With the seeming rapid advancement of artificial intelligence, or AI for short, how long will it be before all the folks who are actually employed to write get replaced by AI? Fortunately I do not rely on my blogging for income, I do it as a hobby. I know, hard to believe that I actually enjoy writing, go figure.

Now AI might be able to churn out a fictional story or two, and maybe some technical papers and history based stuff, but how about legitimate classic car stuff? I use the term legitimate because AI cannot read minds or books (unless they are digital), "its" research is based strictly off the internet and human interaction, so therein lies the problem. We all know almost everything on the interwebs is not always true and a lot of so-called "experts" have to be taken with a grain of salt. If the past few years have taught us anything its that you can't always believe what the media is telling you or what you are seeing. (think deep fake and AI videos)

Imagine AI trying to write a story like North Main and pulling all of its research from internet articles, videos, and movies. AI is not real, as the name implies, it is artificial. Its the intelligence part that is controversial. Once I finish writing North Main I suppose AI could could find it, copy what ever it wants to and re-write it artificially, but in my opinion, that is just another form of plagiarism or copyright infringement and that begs the question: can AI even be held accountable? Technically case law does not apply to it, let that sink in for a minute...

FranktoidTM No. 23 - Triggered

2023-03-09T18:30:00.000-08:00

A lot of people associate the word "triggered" with experiencing a strong emotional reaction of fear, shock, anger, or worry, especially if they are made to remember something bad that has happened in the past, myself included. The trigger that is about to unfold here is not bad, emotional perhaps, and is best described by another definition of triggered which is a particular action, process, or situation. In my case is was a particular action that triggered me.

I was going through old photographs and ran across one that was taken back in the early 90's. I had completely forgotten about this photo but man, did it ever bring back a flood of memories. To almost anyone else it is just an old, grainy photo. But to me it speaks volumes, as it includes my first house, my first real garage (pre Amberlight), my daily driver '69 Chevelle Malibu, my project car - a 1966 Chevy Impala SS convertible big block car, our '85 Honda Accord family car, and barely visible - another '66 Impala, this one was a hardtop ex-street racer aptly named "The White Whale". I can even see my Craftsman air compressor, still in it's packing crate, that I had purchased at Sears. Who would of thought one photograph could trigger so many memories?

I think photos are one of the more powerful triggers out there, both good and bad. I sympathize with those that see the bad ones. I am sure that old pictures of the Twin Towers in New York bother a lot of folks, especially if they lost a loved one there. For myself, I do not like seeing photos of the Mandalay Bay Hotel in Las Vegas. My son was at the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival in 2017 and almost lost his life in the deadliest mass shooting in United States history. To help deal with the stress I literally wrote about it the next day. Sometimes words have a healing effect, at least for me.

The reason I was going through my old photos was to organize them and put them into photo albums. Remember those? I think it's so much better to be able to access your photos in an album then to keep them filed away in a box. I consider myself lucky that the vast majority of my photos are physical photographs, not JPEG files. Remember that the next time you are searching for a pic on your phone or PC. Digital does come in handy but I think there can be a balance between the two. So if you have some old photos tucked away, go dig them out and trigger yourself, in a good way.

L to R - 69 Malibu, 66 Impala SS, 85 Accord, 66 Impala Hardtop

Death of the Firing Order

2023-02-11T21:19:00.004-08:00

Quick, off the top of your head, can you tell me the cylinder firing order of the pre-LS Chevrolet V-8? I have the inkling that only the older generation of gear heads can recite this numerical order by memory. Having worked in the parts industry for decades I knew the cylinder firing orders of GM, Ford, and Chrysler engines by heart, but that was long before a certain device was invented. What is this device that I speak of? None other then the "smartphone" you are holding right now or the PC in your house. Back in the day auto parts stores had catalog racks, not computers like today. To prevent having to look up the same part number time after time, we memorized things, lots of things. One of the most famous examples of auto related memorized data was in the 1992 movie My Cousin Vinny, where Mona Lisa Vito says: "Chevy didn't make a 327 in '55, the 327 didn't come out till '62. And it wasn't offered in the Bel Air with a four-barrel carb till '64. However, in 1964, the correct ignition timing would be four degrees before top-dead-center." Given the fact that this movie was released prior to the availability of search engines like Google,Yahoo, and even AltaVista, plus during the infancy of the internet itself, the writers really did their research and provided an accurate line for the movie.

Years ago I remember reading this quote by some self-proclaimed expert: "Why memorize when I can Google it?" In reality it was probably an ad hoc created by Google, much like the very early subliminal message in the 2002 movie Maid in Manhattan, starring Jennifer Lopez as Marisa Ventura. In that movie her characters son, Ty, asks her why Simon and Garfunkel broke up. Marisa responds with "You got me, you can Google it at school." In under one generation society has been conditioned to "Google it", or the equivalent, to find the answers to their questions. The aforementioned smartphone is now actually smarter and growing more intelligent with each new version that is released. Remember the CRAY-2 super computer from the 80's? Well your Apple iPhone 12 is 5000 times faster then the CRAY-2 and 5500 pounds lighter! Think about that for a second, or Google it.

A New Year, Maybe

2023-01-01T19:40:00.001-08:00

It is the first day of a new year and I will once again go out on a limb to predict what the rest of 2023 holds in store for us, John and Jane Q Public. I think I can sum it up in just a few words: More of the same. That's the vibe that I'm getting, and if my past predictions are any indication, it will probably be spot-on. The "new normal" is becoming just that and it's a little disconcerting. For all you truthers out there I see a lot of inconvenient proof coming out that will open a lot of folks eyes to what is really going on around them. I'll stop right there lest I wax on about politics and really do a deep dive, and that's not what this blog page is about.

I will also predict that there will more content posted on this blog for your reading enjoyment and 100 percent free of charge! Now that I am retired it should be pretty easy, right? Ha! I'm still unpacking from our big move. On top of that the new Amberlight Garage is a disaster plus I am in the planning stages of a major addition to it, but not to worry, "good things come to those that wait". For those wondering if they can use that quote on their significant others and their to-do list, the answer is unequivocally NO.

The new year hopefully holds some major progress on Project Yellowjacket as well. Now that I am down to just one project I can put the proverbial nose to the grindstone and git-r-done! The plan has always been to put a 455 in it, which I am still in the process of gathering just the right parts for, but I started wondering about the 350 that is currently in it. When I bought the car back in 2014 I was told that the engine did run but had been sitting for at least a decade due to a major oil leak. I did discover that the oil leak was actually in the transmission. One time when I tried to add oil to the trans, the ATF ran out onto the ground almost as fast as I was pouring it in! In theory the engine should run if everything checks out okay. Time will tell and maybe you will see a "first start in 20 years" video... maybe.