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Three fat nut trick may have saved my marriage (long) Posted by Notnoel [Email] (#23) [Profile/Gallery] (more from Notnoel) on Mon, 23 Dec 2013 08:01:18 Members do not see ads below this line. - Help Keep This Site Online - Signup |
To those following my latest soap opera, I am happy to report that after spending all day Friday, Saturday, and Sunday my 1988 5-speed conversion saga is finally over. But not without added last minute drama, to drive my wife into near frenzy (read on).
On Thursday night, I finally was able to remove the broken bolt extractor from the one of the broken, too long bolts that had seized my engine. On Friday (my birthday), determined not to have that happen again, and seeing little other way out of my troubles, I once again pulled the power train, and separated the engine and transmission. Saturday I was pumped up. I got up early, rolled the engine onto its back, and used a sawzall to cut the ends of the bolts that were binding to the crankshaft off - thank God they were the 2 lower bolts. I was even successful retrieving all of the little bits of the bolts and used an entire can of brake cleaner to thoroughly wash all of the metal cuttings out of the engine.
Next I reassembled the car,reverse bled the clutch, hopped in, put her in neutral, and fired her up at about dinner time. What sweet sounds. I then pushed the clutch in and prepared to put her in reverse, when the clutch pedal dropped to the floor. Panic, nervous convulsions, and much swearing then ensued. I could simply not believe it - I was despondent. The only part I had re-used was my master cylinder, and I was sure it had failed. With no way to get the car running (I thought) it was time to inform the wife that I'd need a ride to work. Long serious talking to me by my wife then ensued.
Sunday arrives. I was feeling hung down, brung down , hung-up, hung-over, and all kinds of mean and nasty things. I set about cleaning up the garage and ordering the tools for what promised to be another long evening come Monday after I was able to obtain a new master cylinder. I worked around the car; unable to even look at her, so frustrated was I. I cleaned up and organized the entire garage. I then happened to look under the car (at about 3 pm). And there,.....under the car....was the most beautiful thing I ever saw, a pool of brake fluid near the front of the car.
This meant that my brand new slave had failed, AND I HAD ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE!! I could fix the car right then, right there and this ordeal might finally be over.
SO, three fat nuts gets the clutch assembly out of my old car, three fat nuts gets the clutch out of the new car, swap-swap, wrench-wrench, and finally I have a functioning automobile. Getting it done yesterday was a God-send - I don't think my wife would have stood for too much more.
Thanks to Cmyles, and all of the others who provided real land emotional support through the worst repair story of my life!
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