MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159p)
At just about the halfway
point of our qualifying race Cliffy pulled into the infield. We didn’t
have radios in those days so we (the crew) had no idea what the problem
was. We kept our eyes on the car and after a minute or so we could see
steam rising from the radiator overflow can… not a good thing. After the
race was over Cliffy pulled into our pit stall and said the temperature
gauge had gone all the way up to 260 degrees, definitely not a good
thing. Alan thought the problem might be a defective radiator cap so
went to purchase a new one from the parts truck parked right across from
us. Cliffy wasn’t so sure but Alan put water in the radiator and the
new cap on to get the car ready for the ‘consolation’ or, what was also
called the ‘last chance’, race. When the race was called onto the track
we felt confident we’d be able to qualify. As Yogi Berra is supposed to
have said, “It’s deja-vu all over again”, and it was for us. About five
laps into the race (and safely in a qualifying spot) we watched Cliffy
pull into the infield and soon saw the dreaded steam emerging from the
catch can. With the car back at our pit stall Cliffy made the call that
we’d probably blown a head gasket. If so, it wasn’t a major cost to fix
it but it would be a time consuming project.
There were only four
or five cars using the big block (428ci) Ford engine and it wasn’t a
surprise to find the others who used it gather around to find out what
our problem was after completion of all the races. Among them was
’Seeg’, C J’s father. This had been their third time to the track and,
as I remember it, without much in the way of success. The track promoter
had advertised C J’s arrival at the track and promoted him as a
potential track champion but it wasn’t going all that well for him. I
asked him what he thought the problem was and he said C J thought it was
the motor… that it wasn’t built for such a small track. He added that
they were thinking of switching over to a Chevy motor. I didn’t think
much about it at the time worrying more about what we’d find when we
took our motor apart on Monday night.
Even though we’d had a bad
night, the little experiment we’d started on opening night of bringing a
hibachi and food to the track to eat after the races continued. This
was well before “tail gating” became the ‘in thing’ at football games.
Cliffy’s wife, Beth, seeing the acceptance of the idea, had bought
extras and shared it with fans who stopped by. The good will generated
sort of glossed over the gloom we’d been showing and by the time we
headed for home the mood had changed for the better.
Sunday, for
me, was typical in that I was up and at church for the 8am service.
However, when I got home Elle wasn’t in the process of getting the kids
ready and I was surprised. It was because Beth had called and invited
all of us for a picnic at her house and Elle had to bring something.
Elle had felt sort of left out of the race car group, especially with
the women, and figured this invitation was a way to become accepted.
Naturally, I was pleased.
Cliffy’ and Beth’s house was small but
they had a big back yard. That was good because there were over a dozen
kids there. Beth had set the rules in that there was to be no “race car
stuff” and the theme was fun and games. It was hard for the guys because
we were curious as to what had happened to the motor the night before.
But, Beth’s rules were adhered to and as far as Elle and I were
concerned we’d been assimilated into the team. The only ‘downer’ was
Buster’s wife, Marilyn, who was just flat out negative about everything.
It was sort of funny in that Buster was the exact opposite. The one
good thing was that she didn’t go to the races so we didn’t have to put
up with it on a weekly basis.
On Monday, I heard from the guidance
counselor at the local high school about some temporary help for a few
weeks and a meeting with her was arranged. I told her of my past
experience with kids from the school and she thought she’d be able to
help us out. But, she did want to meet with me before committing to
giving out names and arranging for interviews. I couldn’t argue but, for
me, it was just another thing to take up valuable time.
At the
garage that night I arrived to find Cliffy had already done quite a bit
of work on dismantling the engine. With the full crew there it didn’t
take long to find that we had, indeed, blown a head gasket. Cliffy’s
father, who had actually assembled the motor, was there to find out what
had gone wrong. He was quite surprised and couldn’t offer up a reason
for the problem. The discovery also explained the reason for the
discolored motor oil we’d found the week before… water from the blown
head gasket. That meant we’d have to drop the oil pan and change the rod
and crank shaft bearings… more time and money. The $1,000 we’d won on opening
night was disappearing rapidly.
I learned something important
that night and that was it was possible to change bearings while the
motor was still mounted in the car. Dick recruited me to help him with
the job and, for the first time since joining the team, I actually felt
like I was a productive member. While the two of us worked on that the
others cleaned up the cylinder heads and block so Cliffy could reinstall
them with new gaskets. The only problem was it took us until 2am to
finish the job. At that point we all anticipated starting the engine.
However, Cliffy’s father had but one rule while we worked in his shop
and that was we couldn’t run a motor after 11pm. At least it was all put
back together as we walked out the door.
To be continued…
2 comments:
Too bad about the head gasket! Hope the motor was fine after that.
Bad
BS... it was a taste of "life in the fast lane"...
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