The Wonderbus has a new Mexican 1600 Type 1 engine that I bought in Tijuana. It has a new 34 PICT 3 carb. It has older tin and alternator and a bunch of other stuff pull from the overheated and blown 1776 the bus came with. All the bits were added to the longblock with care. Usually in the wrong order, which required one step backward for every two steps forward. But no pencils were dropped into open orifices, no studs snapped, all the parts fit. Well, the tin took some pounding and severe dressing-down to fit. Many little trips down to the local VW parts retailer to pick up the odd clamp or gasket or thingummy. (Why doesn't anyone stock 71 bus brake booster hose?)
The engine went in late this afternoon. Neighbor lady asked as she drove by, "it's about time." Which, now that I think of it, was less of a question and more of an editorial comment about how long the Wonderbus has sat in the street without moving.
The new battery brought oil pressure up. At first it cranked over hesitatingly, then as things got more slippery, the rpms increased.
All four new spark plugs went in without a single cross-thread (that would have been a bit disappointing . . . ). Wires and hoses were checked and double-checked. Starter was energized again, this time with everything connected. A couple moments of uncertainty . . . thoughts raced through my head, "Will she start? Did I remember to hook everything up right? How much long will Ken Jennings continue to win?"
Then the engine caught with a satisfying sound, a few moments of smoke as the squirts of oil in the cylinders burned off. A little rough at first, like it was missing on a cylinder, then it smoothed right out. I ran it for the requisite 20 minutes, at either 2,000 rpm, per Wilson, or
2,500 to 4,000 per John Connolly, I forget which, to splash that oil all over everything inside and let the engine know I am serious.It sounded very, very nice. To me, at least: No telling what it sounded like to the neighbors. And frankly, I don't care. When the older engine broke did any of them come over to commiserate or offer a helping hand? No. Not one. Well, a nice fellow in a town nearby did lend me some tools, as did Dave Pearson (Dave? I wrote back to you -- your tools and copy of Wilson's book are waiting to go back . . . Earth to Dave). But none of the neighbors on my street helped. So I reckon that 20 minutes of hearing the engine roar at either 2,000 rpm or 2,500 to 4,000 rpm is just my cunning way of thanking them.
No sign of any leaking oil. Tomorrow, check the valves, take her for a short spin . . . and generally follow the suggested procedure for breaking in a new engine.
I am very pleased. And never would have been able to do it without the help of everyone. Thank you!