Repair Mistakes & Blunders

This didn't, but....

I still remember my first brake job. Which is fortunate, as it could easily have been my *last* brake job. The car was my '66 Charger (which I still own... hopefully I'll be able to reassemble the engine and then the car Real Soon Now), the year was roughly 1980, which would have made me 23 or so, the place was Seattle where I was a grad student at the University of Washington.

I followed the directions (probably from Chilton's -- that's another lesson I've learned in the mean time) carefully. I don't remember if I had the drums turned.

What I *do* remember is that the first time I drove it after finishing, going west on NE 50th, heading toward University Village (a road I remember as being about a 50% down grade, but which on checking doesn't even make the list of Seattle's 20 steepest streets), I had no brakes. Remember, 1967 was the year Chrysler adopted dual master cylinders.

I was able to put the car in 1st (it has a manual transmission) to slow it down, and then stop it at the bottom of the hill with the parking brake. I then maneuvered it into the parking lot and walked home to pick up a jack and tools.

I jacked it up and took the front wheels apart, and found that one of the front brakes (I want to say the left, but I don't remember for sure) had come completely undone -- the cable was off its pulleys, the shoes were floating loose.... I put it back together and drove home.

I never did figure out exactly what I did wrong the first time. Clearly something, somewhere that needed to be tight wasn't. I've been pretty obsessive about checking and rechecking *everything* on every brake job I've done in the 30 years since, and I've never had another one go sour on me.

I've always been sort of proud of the facts that I didn't run the stop sign at the bottom of the hill, and I didn't need to change my underwear when I got home.

When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me to work on cars.

I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.

I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids can just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age and infirmary.

Nice stories.

DAS

When I was in my mid 20's and been a new father for just a few years I can recalling making a weekend phone call to my father and my grandfather apologizing for all the 'help' I'd given them when they were teaching me to work on cars.

I can also recall a phone call I'd received from my youngest son musing about how much extra time (by 2X or 3X) it took him when my then one grand daughter insisted on helping him work on the family cars.

I wisely gave him the advice to make the adjustments so that the time was available to do both jobs right Good experiences all around and the kids can just about fix anything although I'm falling off the skill set due to age and infirmary.

Here's one for the ages that I did:

I was adjusting the valve lash--and timing--on my "prized" orange 1972 Vega...my first new car...in 1972. I must've been 22. I also had just bought a new set of Craftsman wrenches and sockets (so already I was dangerous).

After doing everything by the book, I went to fire up the motor...and something very, very bad happened.

I had left my new ratchet on the crankshaft pulley. It caught on "something," and the notched timing belt slipped about, oh, maybe 10-20 notches. Then the ratchet slammed into the radiator, putting a gaping hole in that.

Not having a clue as to how to re-fire the motor at this point, I punted...and pushed the Vega six blocks to a local gas station, where a guy re-timed it for me. Took him about 10 minutes.

Huge lesson learned on that one.

My dad was a AI (inspector grade aircraft mechanic for the military). At one time he spent 3 years rebuilding an engine for a collector with a F4U Corsair (inverted gull wing aircraft you see in all the war movies involving the Pacific war).

In any case he was near completion when some yahoo tossed a few extra parts in the pile. Old man completely disassembled the engine and redid the work. When he figured out who did what he beat the living hell out of the SOB.

Were it me I'd have arranged for the SOB to steal more chain than he could swim with ... but then I'm less forgiving than my old man.

corsairs......flown by pappy Boynton i believe

Yes that's the one. Real sweat to fly but had built in gotchs if you were low and slow and goosed it for a go around. Killed more than a few new pilots until someone figured out way.