Spannerhead Dot Com

Very sore today. I’ve been going full steam trying to get the Z back on the road before this Thursday, since it’s my son’s last day of 1st grade and I promised him I’d drive him to school in it.

The upshot is that after spending most of the last month “topside,” getting the engine running, these past few weeks have seen me mostly under the car, up to my elbows in dirty, cramped brake, clutch and driveline work.

In a nutshell, I’ve:

• Replaced the clutch master cylinder, slave cylinder and rubber line
• Replaced the brake master cylinder and rubber lines and rebuilt all four brakes
• Replaced the transmission’s rear oil seal
• Added new trans fluid (Red Line MT-90)
• Replaced the differential cover gasket
• Added new gear oil to the diff (Red Line 75W-90)

And now for some pictures:

These are all the parts that had to come off for me to be able replace the cover gasket on the diff. The axle shafts in particular were a bear to remove. More modern CV joints and circlips make life much easier.

The internals of the diff looked relatively unscathed after 40 years. However, to my recollection, there is a pronounced whine from the diff whilst driving, something that will be looked into further during the full restoration phase.

Interesting find: There is a (apparently non-OEM) baffle for the diff breather sandwiched in between two cover gaskets. It was a bit annoying to have to order another gasket, but I’m glad it’s there.

I despise drum brakes. Yes, I’ve heard all the arguments for how a disc conversion is expensive, and that my braking performance will likely actually decrease slightly, but to not have to deal with pulling off drums that are fused to the hub, or rebuild ornery wheel cylinders… I would pay quite a bit. And of course, there’s also the fact that discs just look better.

With any luck, I’ll have it on the road for a test drive tonight. Just need to bleed the clutch and brake systems and we’ll be good to go. Video (hopefully) forthcoming.

Update: (9:05 PM) The required brake bridge didn’t come in tonight, as promised. Frustrating. Won’t have a whole evening to tune it before Thursday, but…I’ll make the best of it. Disappointing.

Editor’s note: This post is Part 15 of an ongoing series chronicling my efforts toward the restoration of my 1972 Datsun 240Z, originally my father’s. Read the other installments here:

• Part 23: Gutting the Interior
• Part 22: The Teardown Begins
• Part 21: …And the Engine Comes Out
• Part 20: Treasure Hunting
• Part 19: Beginnings
• Part 18: VIN Discoveries
• Part 17: The Bad News
• Part 16: On The Road
• Part 14: It Lives!
• Part 13: Restoring the Fuel System, Part I
• Part 12: Meat on the Wheels
• Part 11: Inspiration (Sort Of)
• Part 10: Carbs’ Return
• Part 9: First Triad Z Club Meet
• Part 8: Wheel Work
• Part 7: Tactical Changes
• Part 6: Little Things
• Part 5: Coming Home
• Part 4: The Rollout
• Part 3: Confessions of a Poor Car Enthusiast
• Part 2: Opening the Tomb
• Part 1: Projecting Forward

Earlier in the month, I took my kids to the Double SAARC/MAARS club race at Virginia International Raceway, or VIR, near Danville. I’d attended the annual springtime event before, thought not in years, but it was much as I remembered it: $10 cost of entry for a ton of racing action, all different classes of cars, free and easy access to the pits, drivers and teams, and wide open areas of the infield for the kids to run around in. I bought my dad along, too, and they all loved it.

The free parade laps of the track at lunchtime were a definite highlight. The kids loved spiraling down through the Rollercoaster and up through the Climbing Esses. It was great fun.

Click on the jump to view the photos!

Although not quite as intense as the recent controversy surrounding the automotive term “coupe” (set off by the introduction of so-called “four-door coupes”), the precise definition of the descriptor “sports car” has been debated for far longer.

Can a sports car have more than two doors? Does it matter which wheels are driven? Need it have only two seats? Is sports-car-dom the exclusive province of the classic convertible?

While (in my mind) the definition of “coupe” is far more objective—two doors, and no more—the meaning of the term “sports car” is more subjectively rooted in the philosophy that underscores a car’s raison d’être. Put succinctly, to me, a sports car uniquely prioritizes enjoyment in two areas: Driving enjoyment and looks.

In other words, a sports car is more of an idea than a cut-and-dried checklist of physical attributes a car may or may not have. That said, the idea does carry with it some inescapable connotations.

For one, the notion that a sports car places aesthetics above almost all else rules out four-door cars, since back doors and a somewhat usable rear seat are, in essence, compromises in the name of practicality. Also, for every attractive sedan (and there are many), I can just as easily find a more visually pleasing two-door shape. So while the sports car concept may not rule out four-door cars by definition, it does by implication.

The same goes for the attribute of driving enjoyment. Whatever the merits of worthy front wheel drive cars, their engineers compromised—they opted for packaging efficiency, or platform sharing economies with other models in an automaker’s range or a host of other reasons and denied the car the mechanical configuration best suited to maximizing driving enjoyment: Rear wheel drive.

Ironically, the subjective definition of a sport car in terms of its vehicular priorities becomes a far more useful tool than an objective one in establishing a car’s category. Rather than wondering, for example, whether a BMW 8 series should be considered a sports car, given its two doors and RWD chassis, we can apply the subjective test and observe that significant compromises were made in the name of luxury, concessions which effectively place it outside the circle of true sports cars. And the template can be applied to just about any car with ease.

I think it’s a workable concept. Let’s lay to rest the notion that “all sports cars must have X, Y or Z,” and think more deeply about cars’ priorities and their designers’ intentions.

Dragged the kids to a local BMW show for a bit Saturday morning. An annual gathering of vintage (pre-E32 7 series) BMWs the show was a cornucopia of classic German performance machinery. Dominated by 2002s, E30 M3s and E9 coupes, there were a scattering of E28 5 series, E24 6 series and other types mixed in.

Click on the jump to view the photos!

Motor Trend recently offered the latest in a long line of speculation over the design direction of the next generation of Ford’s most important upcoming car, the 2015 Mustang.

Ford’s designers have a supremely daunting balancing act to perform, having to move the car stylistically beyond its retro roots while simultaneously capturing the nostalgic charm that caused the ’05+ Mustang to become such a breakout hit. I don’t envy them.

In many ways the stylists’ task was much easier with the ’10+ refresh. They could afford to coast a bit on the retro themes pioneered by its immediate predecessor, and simply tidy up and tighten the proportions and detailing. For 2015, though, a bigger, more wholesale change is expected. Time will tell whether they’re able to successfully walk the nostalgia/progress tightrope, or whether the new Mustang ends up having all the appeal of a classic rock band trying pathetically to reinvent itself and “stay current.” For a car that draws so much on its own heritage for its appeal, the margin for error is very small indeed.

A quick disclaimer: I should be clear that the images shown in this post aren’t depictions of the actual 2015 Ford Mustang, nor even concept renderings the automaker itself has released, but purely speculative takes by the automotive press and blogosphere.

As a designer, I’d like to think that my designs don’t stand or fall depending on whether or not a certain design element is present. Especially given that engineers have to comb over the design and alter it so that it’s able to actually be manufactured economically, it’s wise to not cling too tightly to any one particular element.

Unfortunately, many automakers all too often anchor their designs too firmly in a particular styling detail (the BMW E38’s rocker panels, for example), and frequently it happens to be one that isn’t integrated with the car’s proportions or worse, removable. The cars featured in this post fall into the latter category, and the absence of their factory-designed spoilers, or rear wings, completely compromises their styling integrity.

’93-’98 Toyota Supra: Notwithstanding its legendary status in the import tuner scene, this car’s styling was never warmly received by the automotive press at large. One publication aptly described it as a “pastiche of styling cues from other, more coherent cars.” And with its dramatic spoiler removed, the flaws in the Mark 4 Supra’s proportions stand out all the more.

Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution: Here’s an instance where a vehicle needs its spoiler not only for visual balance, but also to reinforce its “rally-ready” image. The Evo and archrival Subaru WRX STI wouldn’t be what they are without a liberal sprinkling of scoops, fins and wings. Bereft of its spoiler, the Evo’s econobox proportions scream.

Porsche 924: Credit Porsche for recognizing this problem, and tackling it head-on with the later 924 and 944, which were never, ever seen without their giant rubber spoilers. The early 924’s cool reception (owing mainly to its mixed Porsche/VW pedigree) was chilled even further by the car’s unfinished-looking, egg-like rump.

Mazda MX-6: With its fetching teardrop proportions, Mazda’s second-generation MX-6 is undoubtedly one of the loveliest cars of the mid-’90s era. All the more tragic, then, to witness a spoiler-less example, with its awkward profile. A winged MX-6 is such a study in taste and automotive grace that even a step away from that peak of design is a steep drop, visually-speaking.

A small victory.

So nice to have this under my belt. After ordering all the parts on my spreadsheet:

I set about getting the Z’s engine running, even if the car itself isn’t yet mobile. Here’s what was done:

• Replaced all engine bay coolant hoses, replaced coolant
• Drained, cleaned and re-sealed fuel tank
• Flushed all fuel hardlines and replaced all rubber lines
• Set valve clearances, replaced valve cover gasket:

• Removed intake manifold coolant pipe and plugged passages
• Had carbs rebuilt
• New battery
• Replaced thermostat, oil pressure sensor, fuel pump and filter…

…along with a few other odds and ends. Filled the tank with a few gallons of 93, added 5 fresh quarts of 15W-40 Rotella T heavy duty oil (love the stuff) and a new filter, and on Wednesday evening…cranked it. The results of the first attempt can be found here—while the engine started, it immediately began to cycle between racing and bogging in the exact manner it had before I parked it eight years ago. By juggling the choke and throttle, I managed to stabilize things long enough for the engine to warm up, at which point I was able to use the idle screw to keep it running. But the engine was still missing and sputtering, something obviously wrong.

I was bummed. I didn’t hear any knocking or tapping that would indicate internal damage from the no-oil-pressure incident, but I wondered if somehow the cycling idle might be caused by something I’d done, though I wasn’t sure how it could be connected to a loss of oil pressure without some accompanying metal-on-metal noise.

Still, as another Z owner pointed out, it started, it stayed running, and it didn’t overheat. So there was that. The critical bit of information came from yet another Z owner, Frank in Houston, who right away saw that the outlet pipe on the balance tube for the (removed) air pump was unplugged, creating a huge post-throttle vacuum leak. The behavior of the engine on first startup was so dramatic that I didn’t see how plugging the pipe would make a substantial difference, but…did it ever. The surging idle completely disappeared, replaced by a perfectly-running, docile and tractable still-untuned engine. Amazing. And extraordinarily encouraging.

The upshot is that the engine wasn’t ruined by the no-oil-pressure incident, so I’ll simply pull it and clean it up in lieu of totally rebuilding it, reducing the cost and time of the restoration exponentially.

Now I’ve just got to get it back on the road for a “last hurrah” before I park it for the resto, which means…brakes and clutch time. Onward!

Editor’s note: This post is Part 14 of an ongoing series chronicling my efforts toward the restoration of my 1972 Datsun 240Z, originally my father’s. Read the other installments here:

• Part 23: Gutting the Interior
• Part 22: The Teardown Begins
• Part 21: …And the Engine Comes Out
• Part 20: Treasure Hunting
• Part 19: Beginnings
• Part 18: VIN Discoveries
• Part 17: The Bad News
• Part 16: On The Road
• Part 15: Getting It Back On The Road
• Part 13: Restoring the Fuel System, Part I
• Part 12: Meat on the Wheels
• Part 11: Inspiration (Sort Of)
• Part 10: Carbs’ Return
• Part 9: First Triad Z Club Meet
• Part 8: Wheel Work
• Part 7: Tactical Changes
• Part 6: Little Things
• Part 5: Coming Home
• Part 4: The Rollout
• Part 3: Confessions of a Poor Car Enthusiast
• Part 2: Opening the Tomb
• Part 1: Projecting Forward

The more things change…

The Viper has returned after a two-year hiatus, this time bearing an SRT badge instead of the old Dodge one, and with more power than ever, but design-wise, one could be forgiven for thinking they were in a kind of time-warp while beholding it.

Packing 640 hp from its signature 8.4l pushrod V10, the car’s developers insist a primary goal was to civilize the car, making it more livable and accessible while preserving its rawness and character, and I’ve no doubt they’ve made great strides in that direction. When considering its competition—the Corvette ZR1, Shelby GT500, various Ferraris and Porsches—its horsepower figure seems barely adequate; it was certainly easier top the supercar mountain when the original 400-hp Viper first exploded onto the scene in all its irreverent glory in the early ’90s. Brute power isn’t enough anymore, so there was little else for the engineers to do except make it more docile.

That being the case, the chassis engineers seem to have charged the stylists with carrying the torch of the Viper’s innate essence. To accomplish this, the designers basically pretended that the previous generation ’03-’10 car never existed and penned a surprisingly cursory update of the original ’96-’02 Viper GTS coupe. Where the ’03-’10 car’s waistline was relatively undramatic, the new car’s flanks plunge in the manner of the original’s. The double-bubble roof and ducktail spoiler have even returned.

And as much as I’d like to criticize Chrysler for designing something so derivative of one of their previous products, I just can’t. See, the original Viper GTS coupe is hands-down one of the best looking American cars ever. It’s extroverted, yes, but all the lines resolve perfectly, whether on the front end, the side or at the rear. It’s a flamboyant, yet cohesive shape, and the new Viper’s stylists were right to recognize near-perfection when they saw it, and try to emulate it. It’s not like it’ll ever be mistaken for anything else.

There was far more commotion surrounding this year’s Bahrain Grand Prix than there was in the race itself.

The off-again, on-again event was finally held on Sunday in the midst of protests over the country’s crackdown on political dissent. Formula 1 being a global sport, and one that’s consistently prided itself on paying lip service to a higher social conscience (even if the main concern of the powers-that-be has been and always will be money, first and foremost), there were serious doubts as to whether the event would actually proceed. In the end, though, the race weekend moved forward and Sebastian Vettel won from pole position in his Red Bull, a bit of deja vu to anyone who followed his dominance last season.

Kimi Räikkönen and Romain Grosjean rounded out the podium for a strong showing by the Lotus Renault team. The second-place finish was particularly vindicating for Räikkönen after his single-lap meltdown last race in China. Both Williams cars retired, another setback for what was supposed to be a resurgent year for the storied British team. As for “my” driver, Fernando Alonso in his Ferrari had a decent drive from 9th place on the grid, but couldn’t manage better than 7th. At least he finished in the points, and with four different winners in the first four races of the season, is within spitting distance of the top of the leaderboard.

Spain in three weeks! Can’t wait for the European leg of the F1 season.

The drivers’ points standings after the race:

1. 53: Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull-Renault
2. 49: Lewis Hamilton, McLaren-Mercedes
3. 48: Mark Webber, Red Bull-Renault
4. 43: Jenson Button, McLaren-Mercedes
5. 43: Fernando Alonso, Ferrari