Back in the spring of '87, I lived in Eugene, and would drive up to Seattle to work during the week as a computer tech. I was working with 8088 and 286 clones and IBM PCs, networking them with a product called LanLink, that worked via the serial port. The office software was called Smartware, and was the first integrated, complete suite with a cross application programming language.
When I got the job, I had to figure out how to commute to Seattle. A friend of mine had a '55 GMC pickup that had been used to mow grass for years. Somebody bought it, and proceeded to blow the head gasket. They let the truck sit, and the inside of the cylinders got rusty. The engine was a straight 6 that took 8 quarts of oil. I bought the truck for $100, cleaned out the cylinders with emery cloth, put a new head gasket in the truck that Brooks Cut Rate Auto, amazingly, had in stock, and presto, I had wheels to go to my new job.
I carried my tools around in a stainless steel bowl which I talk about in this article, and which you can see a picture of in this article.
Here is a picture of a 55 GMC pickup in better shape than mine:
I had endless trouble with the voltage regulator, and had to improvise a charging system by connecting the battery to the generator when the lights got dim, and disconnecting when the lights got bright. I used a bolt and a nail that was bent to fit over the end of the bolt. Light from the sparks would fill the cab when I connected or disconnected the nail. I picked up some hitchhikers one time, and they got off early, before Corvallis, their destination, after they witnessed my sparking manual charge system. I'm not sure they knew it or not, but in a 55 GMC, the gas tank is in the cab under the seat.
One problem with the truck was that it had sloppy tie-rod ends. The king pins probably weren't too happy either. As I'd drive down the road, if I paid too much attention to steering, I'd over correct and over correct again to correct the careening, and it would get quite nerve racking and dangerous. The trick, though, was to drive towards a spot 100 yards ahead, rather than reacting to every bump in the road. Sure, I had to correct when a bump would knock the tie-rod ends over to the other side of the joint, but this just happened naturally. This trick works with many things besides driving an old pickup.
One of the brake drums was badly grooved. I'm not sure how seriously I thought about having the drum turned. It may have been too far gone. I called around and found a wrecking yard in Springfield that had a drum they said would work. Urbana and I went out to the wrecking yard and they sent a guy out to pull the part. He came back and tossed the drum ten feet into the windshield of the wrecked car we were standing next to and said, "there you go". I'm not sure if we did something wrong like not pull the part ourselves, or if that was just his way of having fun. We charged the drum on some plastic, and the guy at the counter forced the imprint machine across the card even though it was in crooked and cracked the card.
We lived in an apartment building that didn't allow car repairs in the parking lot, but I didn't really have much of a choice, so I worked on the truck in the lot anyway. The hub, it turns out, was riveted to the drum. It was a long time ago, but I'm guessing I pulled the whole wheel off to see that the drum was scored and bought the new drum from the wrecking yard. To remove the drum I used a cold chisel to remove the rivets. I spent hours in the parking lot of our apartment complex banging on that cold chisel. The drum magnified the glorious sound. We thought for sure the landlord, Les, would have something to say, but he never did.
I was back in Eugene for good by summer. I'm fairly sure that I purchased a regulator at the NAPA store in Veneta while on my pie delivery route, but the truck didn't start very well by the end of the summer. She was a bit tired after the trips to Seattle. I'd put over 5,000 miles on the engine, which doesn't seem like much, but for a truck that old it is quite a few without spending much money. Curtis came over one Saturday, the first week in November, and helped me clean the truck up. I got her running OK and went to the spray and wash to clean out the engine compartment a bit. She was running rough, but I figured I just had to get the engine hot, since she had been sitting awhile. I decided to drive out to Veneta, which was about 15 miles. She coughed most of the way. I filled her up at a gas station just outside of Veneta, but she wouldn't start. I got somebody to give me a jump, but I still couldn't start her again. I decided to hitch back to Eugene, but nobody would pick me up. I started walking home, but it was a long ways, I didn't have a coat, and I had recently shaved off my hair, so I was getting kind of cold.
I decided to take a different approach and stood outside of a mini market and asked everybody leaving if they wanted to give me a ride home and $50 for my truck. I found somebody who said he would. He and his friend gave me a ride home and $50 and I gave him the title. I didn't even really transfer the title, as it was simply signed by the previous owner, so I probably only had $150 into the truck. Not bad for 5,000 miles and a lot of fun.
|
