Maybe My Dash Isn't Dead After All

With apologies to Mark Twain, the reports of my dash's death have been greatly exaggerated. Tom filled my gas tank yesterday afternoon. He put in 10 gallons and guesstimated (remember, no odometer) that I got around 22 MPG on my first tank. Not too bad, but since much of it was on the interstate, it should be better. With a full tank, my gas gage works again. Maybe there's a dead spot in the fuel level sender that causes the gage to read empty when there's over four gallons left. My 'ometer pair (od' and speed') still aren't behaving. Od' is still stuck on 19949.9, and speed' jumps around a lot. On the way home yesterday, Tom held me to an indicated 60 MPH and did a measured mile in about 68 seconds. That means the speedometer is roughly 13% too high. It is cool, however, to see the needle flopping around the 80 MPH mark when you're really only going 70.

When we got home, Tom adjusted my points (the dwell was a little high), and moved my timing up a little to 12 degrees BTDC (it was only 9). He also measured the vacuum level at the right-side carburetor. At roughly 1500 rpm, it reads just slightly lower than it should. Not bad considering it's been over ten years since I was going down the road.

I now have a name. Actually, I've had one for a few weeks, but forgot to share it. Ariel has christened me Ringo. Tom doesn't use the name when referring to me (he thinks all car names should be feminine), but everyone else in the family (all girls) does.

I also have tunes. Since my in-dash radio is not functioning, Tom used a power converter and a small boom-box to blast out music over my road noise. I'm not sure I'm a big fan of his choice of artists (this morning it was Little River Band and ELO), and I, obviously, have a preference for The Beatles.

Dash is Dead

First of all, I’m now on a first-name basis with Ariel’s dad, Tom.

Second of all, my idiot lights still work. Even though my odometer won’t move, the speedometer jumps around by plus or minus 20 MPH once I’m going faster than 40 MPH, and now the gas gauge died on the way to Tom’s work this morning. It was working off and on before, but jiggling the connection at the back of the gauge usually got it working again. Not this time. So now anyone driving me won’t know how fast they’re going, how far they’ve gone, or how much gas they’ve got left in my tank. Looks like more work for Ariel and Tom.

Last evening, I decided to not start when Tom was leaving work. He had to jack up the right rear, attach some speaker wire to my solenoid, and hotwire me. All it took was moving the starter, and then I would turn over with the key. Last night they permanently installed a wire that would be used for starting if my ignition switch or neutral switch misbehaves again.

Here are some pictures of my newly painted and partially patched floor and the rear part that's yet to be done.

My Race Car Days Are Over

While patching my floor, Ariel and her dad had only installed my driver's seat. With my LOUD exhaust, no carpeting and only the one seat, I really felt like a race car. Well, as of last night when Ariel's dad installed my passenger seat, that dream has ended. After that, he went and picked up Ariel from work. She was so excited. Her dad offered to let her drive, but she didn't have her permit. I was excited to hear her say, "I love my car. It is so cool!"

Also yesterday, Ariel's dad had a fun experience. He had just turned into our neighborhood when the truck behind him started flashing his lights. After pulling over to the curb, the guy jumped out of his truck and came up to us and started gushing about what a really, REALLY nice car I was. He apologized for bothering us, but he just had to have a closer look and to tell Ariel's dad what a great job he was doing on restoring me.