z :: fantasy

The lights glide up and over the curves and valleys, fly across crevices and flow over the slick orange paint before finally sailing up and over the windshield. Each one reaches down from the lamps overhead, caresses Yvonne's bonnet, then disappears behind us, like strangers passing by on the street, quickly seen and quickly forgotten. Underneath this current of light, the robust ford 302 powerplant hums along lazily, sipping on the cool summer air and awaiting the order to launch the car and the driver towards the horizon. With my left arm resting on the open window sill, I can feel the car's heartbeat through my arm, assuring me. Cradling me.

The black tarmac stretches out in front of us, straight and flat as an airport conveyor, whisking us away from the diner and towards soft sheets, covered and secure parking, and if the time is right (and it's always right), a couple more drinks to polish off the evening.

This particular night, the 302, Yvonne, and I are joined by one more. I glance over to the right. Her head is turned out the window, and from my seat I can see her eyes tracing the buildings and signs as they go by. Even in the dark I can see her slender and beautiful neck line, interrupted only by the thin, silk scarf fluttering gently in the breeze. As the FM radio fades out of its serenade and into a more lively track, I watch gravity lose its grip on the corner of her mouth ever so slightly. Grinning, I wake up the engine a bit with my right foot and it roars to life, adding inertia to the list of physical laws to falter. With a twinkle in her blessed eyes, she looks over at me and parts her beautiful red lips to grace me with her words.

"Stop showing off."

"You heard the woman," I said towards the steering wheel, allowing a bit of mischief to creep into my smile.

Of course, Yvonne would have none of it. With a downshift and a quick flick of the wheel, we were nosed into a narrow two-lane road. The street lamps quickly give way to dark leafy trees and with a healthy dose of throttle, we launched headlong into their embrace. Massaging the suspension, I traced the edge of the road with my peripheral vision and peering ahead into the darkness to anticipate the next set of corners. My arms and legs reached out to touch and move in rhythm with Yvonne's controls, the two of us locked in a serene dance up the side of the mountain.

Rev upon rev, corner upon corner, the needle of the tachometer continued to sprint up towards the red, only to fall back down for another pass, over and over again. The tree cover began to thin out, and like a benevolent goddess inspecting her handiwork, the moon revealed peered through the branches, wondering if the little orange flame licking at the night sky was any child of hers. Down below, the mountain god had already passed judgement. The road began to turn narrow and rough, and the edges of the road became more and more precipitous. Smooth, clean pavement gave way to spidery cracks and strewn gravel, tempting the four of us to explore the guardrails. Following his lead, the moon joined in the fray, ducking behind the mountain and shrouding the night with darkness.

Tonight though, this orange flame had the Devil's own resolve. We pushed ever harder, exploring the front end traction a little and the rear end traction a lot. Tires squealed and double clutch downshifts rocked the night in proud rebellion. The white hot headlamps sliced through the darkness like a soldier's lance, guiding our ascent up the Tower of Babylon.

Suddenly, as we rounded a blind corner, the mountain revealed his last card. The road ended abruptly, and in an instant, all that was separating us and the valley below was a gravel summit clearing. Eyes widened as I went hard on the brakes, but in the slippery gravel the rear wheels began to outrun the front. Left, right, left, right, left, I yoked the wheel back and forth, trying to keep the car pointed forward, begging Yvonne to communicated the proper braking pressure to me. Our dance gave way to a deathly embrace. The crunching sound of the gravel screamed in my ears as we slid towards the edge of the cliff. Joining the menacing mountain below, the moon beamed victoriously. There Yvonne said. Right there. Trusting her, I released some of the pressure under my right foot . The chasis relaxed, the tires dug into the ground, and the roar of gravel gave way to the whirr of brake disks. We came to a stop mere feet from the edge.

Immediately, I jumped out of the car, ran two steps and hopped up onto one of the rocks on the edge. I stood up tall and looked down at the mountain. The mountain lay silent.

I turned to look at the moon, and the moon looked up at me.

THE FUTURE GOES PNEUMATIC!

In an effort to increase my quality of life, I have purchased this compressor package from Costco for a meager 200 dollars! It comes with the compressor, tank, and tons of tools, including an impact wrench, air ratchet, and nail gun. At 8 gallons, it's not exactly a bottomless pit of compressed air, and it's pretty damn loud when it's filling up...but shit, I own a NAIL GUN.

Phong and I have already taped the safety back on the nail gun and shot nails and staples across the garage. There is absolutely no way that every single dude who buys a nail gun doesn't attempt this stunt. The gun has terrible driving range because there's aerodynamic tumble. Rifling is the next step.

I used it to change the front brakes. Swapped out the stock pads for Hawk HPS pads...car still pulls to the right though. I think that the driver-front caliper is sleeping on the job.

z :: some interior changes

Swapped a few more pieces from the 260 into the 280. Power antenna, rearview mirror, cigarette lighter, seats, and I'm part way through a center console swap.

While I was doing the power antenna I thought I saw a chance to use the biowrench!


False alarm.



Here's what the car looks like with the seats out. Phong's the blurry dude on the passenger side.

z :: things I still need to pull from the 260

cigarette lighter
quarter interior panels
intake manifolds

z :: moving forward

Almost all of last week, I was in a horribly irritable mood. I was continuously angry at my girlfriend, snappy at my friends (sorry Phong, Sandy) and generally an upsetting person to be around. I'm not sure exactly why I felt this way, but I suspect that it had to do with my dilemma with the 280Z and 260Z's.

You see, last week my mother told me that my dad wanted to ship the orange 280Z to Taiwan. I think they may have misunderstood my intention with the car - to me, this was the realization of my failed goal from three years ago, and coincidentally it was a chance for my father to drive his high school dream car. It was not, however, a car I had purchased for my dad. Actually, he told me not to get it.

However, upon seeing photos of the car parked outside, they told me that they wanted the car. Between filial piety and me wanting to have a smog exempt chasis for the swap, I decided to swap the motor into the red 260z car instead of keeping the orange 280Z. It took me a long time to convince myself though...and my heart was still uneasy.

After doing some research on what the cost of a good, factory quality paint job is (a whopping 5000+ dollars!!!??!?!) I changed my mind and decided to keep the orange car. There was something about the car...I don't know if it was my love for the original orange paint, or the fact that it was the first working Z car that I had ever driven, but I just couldn't part with her. Thus, I told my mom that I was keeping it, and that if my dad wanted an orange 280Z I'd help him find one and clean it up.

Therefore, the paint is freshly buffed out right now, and it looks a million times better than before. My baby is starting to look very presentable, which is good because my dad is coming home today and will want to drive it. I'm falling in love with her more and more.

I have decided not to swap out the dashboard. Phong and I went to pull it a few days ago and it was a pretty big pain in the ass. Plus, I have a buyer for the 260Z now, and it was easier to get rid of with the dash in the car. A 100 dollar dash cap (basically a black plastic cover that mounts flush to the original cover) will more than suffice for my needs, and will be almost indistinguishable from a full, original dash.

The seats from the 260z are in the car now. They have these cool little vents in the lumbar area, which, judging on the lack of similar vents on later cars, are probably pretty useless and/or prone to rusting.

This post is so useless without pics...which I will have for you soon.

But since everyone likes to look at pictures, check out this VERY CLEAN orange, 280Z at a show. I like the look of the chrome mirror and want to install one like that onto my car:

z :: indecision

It is late, and I am tired.

This car project is consuming me.

However, I wanted to report to faithful readers that I have decided to keep the orange 1978 Datsun 280Z, who may or may not receive the name Yvonne as well. She has been a good car with very good original paint, and a charcoal canister in the engine bay isn't the end of the world.

cheers to my little orange flame.

Steve McQueen

I've been watching as many movies featuring hopped up V8's as possible to "get myself in the mood" for engine swapping.

I went to rent "Vanishing Point" today, but got "The Getaway" instead. Also want to watch the original Gone in 60 Seconds. Maybe someone here can help me with my list.

Cars (2006)
Gone in 60 Seconds
Gone in 60 Seconds (modern)
Vanishing Point
Death Proof
Bullitt (car chase scene featured below. If you love V8's, cars, movies, and/or ice cream, you NEED to watch this chase)

z :: a new lady in my life

With great drama and expense, there is a new lady in my life.

The license plate on the 1974 260Z reads:


682 YVN

Obviously, her name is Yvonne. I actually recall a beautiful girl named Yvonne at my old church in Wheaton, IL. I think she caused some drama amongst the guys.

I hope this car will cause some jealousy when I'm all done.

are we having fun yet?

arg. I'm feeling totally overwhelmed by all of this.

Maybe this will make me feel better. I bought these two little toy cars about 3 years ago. Perhaps this is providence:

z and z2 :: turning point

This post may confuse you. Believe me, I am confused as well.

My dad wants to ship the 280Z back to Taiwan. Apparently he was a little too happy with the car. Thus, I will clean up the paint and interior on it, then "sell" it to him for the cash I've paid out of pocket. If he doesn't take it, it is going on Craigslist.

Instead, I will be swapping the motor into my new acquisition, the 1974 260z. A few things to note about the 260z: it is smog exempt, lighter, and has less rust. However, the paint is HELLA cracked and needs to be refinished. Thus the plan is:

L26 motor out
ford 302 in
car running
ford 302 out
paint
ford 302 in

GO!

z2 :: am I out of control?

1974 260Z. Clean title, mostly complete. Will use for parts, possible swap candidate for the L28, to sell (of course).

z :: wax frustrations

About 1/5 of my car has really good, deep, glossy paint on it, perhaps a repaint from a light accident. The other 4/5's is covered with slightly faded, but still workable orange paint...paint that would benefit greatly from a good wax job.

The wax that I have been using from when I first bought my WRX is S100 wax purchased at $15 a jar from the local Harley dealership. It is a thick paste wax that you "scrape" from the jar with a foam pad and seems to work better than any of the other waxes I've tried, which seem to be watery and thin. When used on the WRX, it is easy to achieve a wet, deep finish, even with my n00b detailing skills.

The problem is, this jar of wax seems to have "dried out" a bit over the years (probably from neglect), and when I tried to apply it to the Datsun's right fender, it increased the gloss but hardened to quickly and stubbornly that you can still see the circular application. Solution? New tub of wax.

I will report on how well it cleans up the car's finish.

I also vacuumed the car out and tidied up the interior, so it's feeling a lot cleaner as well.

z :: please don't stop the music

As I mentioned in a previous post, I consider listening to the radio in the car to be one of God's great gifts to mankind. In no other situation can you be bombarded with such a symphony of wonderful sensory stimulations: the thrust of the car lunging towards the horizon, the crisp air flowing through the window and into your welcoming lungs, the hum of the singing engine, and the beat of your favorite jam coming through the FM.

Given that I enjoy the radio so much, the task of installing the Kenwood radio that came with the car was a high priority. I think that it was already installed in the Z and the owner decided to keep it and install it in another project. Seeing that I wasn't sure about buying the car though, he threw it in to sweeten the deal. Sweet indeed, as I would have hated to have to shop for and buy another radio.



The harness had previously been wired in with spade-style crimp connectors. They didn't look too bad, but I wanted to get some more practice for the wiring jobs that were sure to come, so I decided to solder in the harness and work on making it look clean (for once!).

First, the center console came off. Then, I traced all the wires that were "hanging out" in the area, locating the ones that were relevant to the radio. Then, I trimmed both the car-side wires and the radio-side wires to length, so that they would meet up nicely in a soldered junction. If I had it, I would have shrink-wrapped this after I was done, but I settled for electrical tape.


As I was doing this, I accidentally touched the *continuous power* to the *ground* cable, causing a short and a spark. Heeding the warning on the manual a little too late, I went and disconnected the battery on the car to prevent further short circuits. When I finished the harness and plugged it into the radio though, it didn't work! I was worried that I had shorted something in the radio, but it turned out that the fuse on the *continuous power* wire had blown due to the short. Amusingly, the previous owner had the radio wired into the horn circuit and not the radio circuit (probably explains why the horn doesn't work). Anyway, replaced the fuse and the radio started fine, and even sounded pretty good with the 6x9 Pioneer speakers that were installed.


Next, I'll turn my attention to better physically mounting the radio in the center console.


PS. *BRAKE* warning light on the dash turned out to be low fluid, not a vacuum leak. Easy fix!

ETS: ~2 hours

Revised to-do list:

Tier 1 (fix immediately)
- fix up dashboard
- seats, specifically driver's side
- wash, wax, detail
- inner and outer shift boots - fumes and cold air are getting in the car
- heater controls

Tier 2 (fix soon)
- new tires. the current ones are dry rotted and bald
- patch the damage on the passenger door
- carpets behind the doors

Tier 3 (future plans)
- ford 302
- transmission has a crappy 2nd gear synchro...but this will probably be swapped out in the turbo swap
- hatch rust
- maybe 240Z bumper conversion??

z :: generation gap

old and busted


new hotness

I'm thinking about naming the car "Stella" after seeing this on my glass of sprite last night:

I'm not sure though. I rarely name cars, and I've never really seriously considered a woman's name for a vehicle.

Got the Z up and running again, after recharging the battery and cleaning the battery leads. Insurance should go through today too, and as soon as my back heals I think I'll start daily-driving it.

5.0 :: the Silverback enters the scene

"this mustang runs good needs a water pump and master cylinder it has a carb. 5.0 ho motor with a t-5 5speed has a brand new clutch asking $2000 obo or trade for a late 80s or newer sports bike
for more info or to make offer cal xxx-xxx-xxxx ask for owen"

I would never have responded to this ad, except that I've been meaning to get rid of the 1988 CBR and I happen to be looking for a 4 barrel carb HO motor and a T5. I figured it was worth a shot.

I showed up, and sure enough the Mustang was pretty rough. The whole thing was primered black, with a jacked up passenger side door. The interior was dirty and messy. The engine bay was the same way, but it seemed to have the right engine in it. I drove it around, and I immediately discovered the master cylinder. Stepping on the brake was akin to stepping in a bucket of sponge cake - you have to pump the brake to get pressure. The motor started right up, and had a really rewarding rumble. I drove it around San Leandro, finding that it was faster than the datsun (broke traction in first gear no problem) but definitely not as fast as the WRX.

There's a weird chirping sound coming from the car when you accelerate, which the seller attributed to the throwout bearing, although Joey suggested it might be a slipping belt, which is certainly what it sounds like it could be,

I couldn't decide whether I wanted the car right there, so I told him I'd have to do more research on how to ID the GT engine and told him I would call back. He did agree to trade the bike for the car straight across though, which sounded appealing, considering I had only put about 700 into the CBRh.

Went home and talked to an old friend, Mustang Pete, who told me that it was probably a good buy, if only for the T5 transmission. I decided to call him later in the evening. I was still vacillating a bit, since the CBR was a good running bike, but the Mustang would be difficult to sell if I didn't do the 302 swap (it hasn't been registered since June 2007, and I'm at least the second owner since then)...but at the same time, it did seem like a good value.

That night, I tried to move my CBR into a my apt parking spot. I started it up, rode it into the garage, then parked it near my spot. I then started up the Z and pulled it out far enough to drive the CBR in. Got out of the Z, threw a leg over the CBR, only to crank-crank-crank-crank-crank...nothing. I think I had ran the battery out by leaving the parking lights on. Crap. I get back in the Z, which also dies as soon as I try to start it. What are the odds!? Two vehicles with enough voltage to cold start once, then not enough to start immediately thereafter. Bollocks I say, bollocks.

Anyway that helped galvanize my decision to sell the CBR. I pulled the seat off and hooked the battery up to the tender.

The next day, I met up with Owen at 11. I looked at the car briefly, and decided to make the swap. I had been telling Phong about the car, so I decided to pick him up in my new white trash ride. On the way to pick up Aileen, we discovered some hilarious things:

1) The cruise control is controlled by teeny-tiny buttons on TOP of the left control stalk...one of two. There are none on the other side. You can turn on the wipers by lifting the second one. Actually, on the right side, there is one signal stalk, which doesn't do anything. It cannot be pushed, pulled, or twisted in any direction. Jeff said it's a "bonus stalk!" LOL.

2) There is a little drawing of a Mustang, with LED's integrated into it to tell you if your windshield washer fluid, fuel, or lights have issues. It looks ridiculous, like it's from Blade Runner.

3) The stereo deck's "forward" seek/skip button doesn't work.

4) There is a clock in the car. The buttons under it say "DATE," "TIME," and "E-TIME." What in the world is E-TIME?

5) Neither of the front seatbelts retract up against your chest. They're both loose. Contrast that to the Datsun's problem of both seatbelts being too eager to lock.

6) There's a giant oil spill on TOP of the hood.

But fuck. At least there's power steering.

movin and shakin

So, all four bikes are now either in Berkeley or Orinda. The CBR is running fine, and today I'm probably going to trade it for a primered Mustang LX with a GT engine in it, a donor car for my ford 302 V8 swap. It'll be nice to be rid of that bike, and begin parting out the Mustang.

Had a ridiculous thing happen to me yesterday. I started up the CBR to pull it into the apartment garage, then parked it next to my spot. I then started up the Z and pulled it out about 8 feet so I could ride the CBR in. I get out of the Z, then try to start the CBR. Nothing. Cranks but won't start, battery seems a bit flat. I think I accidentally left it with the parking light on. Shit. I then went to pull the Datsun back in. Won't even crank. Double shit. I ended up pushing both into my spot, then going home and crying.

Both will start on my jumpstarter though, so that's a good sign.

B22 :: moving the motorcycles

In order to move the SV and the CBR-RR from San Francisco, I would have to enlist the help of Phong Buu and employ the B2200 truck. The truck had a problem, though - the proper in-bed anchor points were removed in favor of some chinsy sheet-metal mounted hooks on the outside. In order to move the bikes, I would need a pair of proper hooks.


The holes were already there - M8 coarse thread holes.


I found some mild steel square tube to fab the hooks out of, but they were too fat.


Not wanting to purchase more stock just to build these little hooks, I scrounged around the garage before finding the handlebars off of an old Huffy I had taken apart. For some stupid reason it they were made out of a thick gauge, heavy ass steel, which figures, because it was a ridiculously heavy bicycle. That only made them better for what I was doing.


I hacked them off in the bandsaw, then filed the edges smooth.


Then, using the painter's tape method that NEVER FUCKING WORKS, I drilled out the holes in the drill press. I'm pretty sure I burned up two of my bits drilling through this immensely stubborn handlebar steel.


After some drilling to make the pieces fit and a trip to the Orinda auto store (and $10 worth of metric hardware wtf) the tow hooks were in!


After almost dropping the bike 1000 times, Phong and I loaded the SV up onto the truck. Now we had to make sure it wouldn't end up on the Bay Bridge.


Phong is smiling in this picture because we're really not sure how well the bike was held down.


But it held really well! Barely even moved! However, Phong's spine has shifted 8 degrees to the left due to torquing that truck's ridiculously hard to move steering wheel, and my left wrist is hurting like hell from riding Jeff's CBR in stop and go traffic. Whew!

Z :: smells good

Hooray! The Z just passed its smog test. Now I can advertise it as a recently smogged motor when I sell it for whatever I'm throwing in next :)

In other news, check out this guy's super clean ford 289 V8 swap:



240Z V8 Conversion