It Runs!

With the engine back on the chassis, it was time to see if it would run.  But first, there were some connections to be dealt with.

Fuel filter behind the engine.

Fuel line through the tin.

First I worked on the fuel system, attaching the hoses with clamps and routing the steel elbow line through the back tin.  I fixed the fuel filter in the line behind the engine tin, which is recommended but not what you see when you open up most VW engine compartments, because most folks are not concerned about the fire risk.

Fuel lines to the pump.

Fuel line at the front.

Thinking about how this car was essentially grounded because of an engine fire, I decided that this was an opportunity to make the change.  With the hoses hooked up to the fuel pump and carburetor on the engine side and the fuel line to the front of the car on the other side, that part was ready to go.

Wires ready to be hooked up.

A new battery.

Finally, in order to test the engine, I had to hook up the electrics.  Not all the wiring was needed, of course, but just enough to complete the circuit and get the engine to run.  This was one of the hardest tasks of all, mostly because I have trouble understanding the electrical diagrams, and partly because I don't have any wires to work with because they were all burned up.  So, I consulted The Samba and eventually figured out how to wire it up.

Starter is wired up.

Ready to start.

Weeks ago, I had already cleaned, painted and re-installed the starter, so now it was just a matter of hooking up wires between the starter, alternator, coil, distributor and battery.  I studied the diagrams, collected the wires and hooked them all up.  I bought a small gas can, put $1.00 worth of fuel in it and inserted a hose from the front end of the fuel line into the 'tank'.

Then I attempted to start the car.

Sputter and stop.

Wires are working.

First, some Good News.  What it did not do:  It did not scream, or grind, or howl or make any sort of mechanical noise that would make me think it was assembled incorrectly, or that some part was somehow loose inside the engine.  What it didn't do is as or even more important than what it did.

Oil is in the engine.

Now, I knew some of this already.  For example, I already knew that the engine would 'turn over'--that is, that it would go through the cycles without binding or crunching--because when I filled it with oil and turned it over by hand (with a big socket and breaker bar) to set the timing, nothing noticeable had happened.  I rightly took this to be a good sign at the time.  However, whether or not the engine would actually function without screaming or crunching under pressure was another matter.  This I could only determine once I was able to get it running on it's own.

But it sure didn't run.

More Good News.  What it did:  It 'fired', which means that I could see that the spark system was working.  I knew this because once I hit the starter 'switch' (actually me just touching the starter wire to the terminal) the engine would cough and sputter like it 'wanted' to run but somehow it just couldn't get going.

Now the Bad News.  This sputtering, it turns out, was only because I put a small amount of fuel into the carburetor to 'prime' it.  When I looked at the clear fuel filter between the tank and the pump, I could see that no fuel was passing through it.  This meant that the fuel pump wasn't working properly.

Or, I had hooked it up wrong.

Both readers know that the more likely scenario is that I have attempted to assemble it in the 'Phillip Way' and that something has been installed backwards, upside down or otherwise reversed from how it ought to be.  Indeed, this was the case.  I had installed the fuel lines in and out of the pump backwards, so of course no fuel was being pumped to the carburetor.

A quick switch of the lines proved this to true, and in a moment, I had fuel all the way up into the carburetor. By this time I had moved the 'tank' up to just behind the engine so I didn't have extra fuel sitting in the main line for months after I conduct this test and the engine is waiting for me to finish the body work.

Now the fuel lines are fixed.

With fuel now getting to the carburetor and a spark getting to the cylinders, it seemed more and more likely that I could get it running.  The biggest question that remained after 'solving' the fuel mystery was whether or not the carburetor was assembled properly.  I haven't yet described the process, but a few months ago I completely rebuilt the carburetor with a kit that I bought from JBugs.  The carburetor is one very complicated device, and even though I took it apart and re-assembled it, I have only the rudest notion of how the damn thing actually works.  Consequently I had little faith in my ability to get it all back together correctly and this in turn made it the weakest link in the attempt to get the engine running.

The only way to really test whether or not I had got the carb rebuild right was to try and start up the engine again.

So, I hooked up all the wires, double-checked the fuel lines, manually closed the choke on the carburetor (I have not hooked up the electric choke) and touched the starter wire to the battery.

Ready for a second test.

Once again, it coughed and sputtered and died.  But now I could see that it really ought to be working.  I could see all three elements of the internal combustion equation: spark, fuel and air, and I could see that it was really 'trying' to run.  The interesting thing about this engine is how forgiving it will be in getting started.  Now, it might not run right, and it might fail sooner than expected, but if you can just get close enough, the VW engine will run.  Anyone who's seen the clip from Woody Allen's Sleeper (or, amazingly, the whole movie) will know how universal this understanding is, and unlike so many urban legends today, it is actually true.

For proof of this assertion, I offer the following video:

The Spinal Tap

Even though it isn't absolutely necessary to completely remove the wiring harnesses in order to pull the body off the frame, it just makes me feel better knowing that they are out.

After all, one of the most frustrating things to diagnose about a car is the wiring, and in a forty-year-old car, it's a safe bet that one of more of those dozens of wires that make up that ugly snake of a harness that I finally managed to pull out of the left rear quarter-panel has gone bad at some point.  Either a break in the copper conductor or a worn place on the insulation is enough to cause havoc in the electrical system.  Without testing each individual wire I will never be sure that it isn't about to fail.  And it will fail.  Ask HAL.

So out it came.  Laying out on the hot concrete just pulled from the car, it looked sort of like a spinal cord, which is of course pretty much what it is.

Again, with no real need but a desire, I went around front and removed the headlights and turn signals.  Mostly I was curious to see if there was any rust in behind the headlights and I was rewarded with the sight of (mostly) rust-free metal under the eyes.  That front wiring harness will also come out soon, but there's no real rush and it's just fine where it is for now.  The headlights and turn lenses will have to be replaced, along with all the rubber seals and some of the screws.

With the wiring out, it's time to tackle the body bolts.

The Wires Must Go

Since my first major goal is to remove the body from the frame, disconnecting the wiring is an important step.  Although I pulled out the headlights and most of the front wiring harness, the fact is that it won't affect the body removal because that harness is contained within the body.  Not so the rear wiring harness, which of course runs through the body to the engine and rear lights.  I didn't really have to remove the lights, but in the interest of stripping things off for the long run, I went ahead and pulled both taillights out.

Not only are they old, and cracked, but after removing them I realized just how ugly they are.  Ugly, that is, when I saw the nice clean and sharp line that is left when the bulky red-and white plastic lens had been removed.  Seeing this line got me to thinking about how I would and can customize this car as it goes back together.  I don't want to build everything, or even most things by hand, since that would take more time and effort than I have or am willing to part with,  but I am intrigued by the idea of making this little car unique.

There have been a lot of improvements to automobile engineering since 1974, and while most of them can't be retrofitted to an old car like mine, there are many things that I can do, like sound and rust proofing, new instruments and above all, a new set of wiring harnesses.

I think I said it before, but this wiring harness is shot.  I have way too much experience--all of it bad--trying to diagnose and fix electrical wiring problems.  I would rather pull out the whole thing and replace it with brand-new wires, connectors and insulation.  It'll take a lot of work to re-wire this thing, but it will be worth it in the long run.

Not only the wires, but the relays and voltage regulator are also beyond repair and will be replaced.  It feels good, actually, to strip out the old nervous system without even facing the nightmare of figuring it out for now.
There had been a fire in the engine compartment sometime just before the car was laid up last; the melted insulation on the heaviest wire in the system--the battery cable--says it all.

Thanks to some kind of clamp or hook holding the wiring harness inside the right rear quarter panel I haven't been able to pull it out completely, but that isn't necessary to pull the body off, so I will leave it till then, when I can no doubt get a better look and angle on removing it.  For now, the wires connected to the engine are off and that's what counts.  I also disconnected the steering wheel from the body in front and removed the shifter.

Brake cables and lines will  be next, then I can start working on those body bolts.

Who knows?  Maybe it will come off tomorrow!

Tin and Rivets

 After the recalcitrant passenger side seat came..erm, was cut out, it was time to tackle the 'back seat.'  In the 1974 model, however, VW abandoned the pretense of building in a back seat and simply fitted the area behind the front seats with carpet covered wooden panel.

So, though it seemed to me to have been one of those bizarre "there...I fixed it" solutions for which car owners are rightly infamous, the first piece to come out was actually a replacement for the original piece of plywood that fit over the transaxle.

This piece of wood was not the original, but a replacement.  I can tell  because the rust had eaten away at the cross-member onto which it was mounted.  Whoever made the repair did so with an eye to utility and none to practicality, for when I drilled out the rivets and pulled the tin cover off the cross-member, it was not a sight to admire.  Suffice it to say this this entire piece is almost entirely rusted away, from the seat fitting all the way back into the area where the convertible top is stored when down.  It will all have to come out, and from what I can tell from the catalogs, these are not stock parts.  That means I don't have a lot of choices when it come to replacing it, which I most certainly have to do.  I can either find a 'donor' car and cut it out of that or fabricate an entirely new piece.  Either way it is going to be a lot of cutting, welding, grinding and sanding.  What fun!

I can't get to that just yet.  I still have a lot of stuff to pull off and out of this car.  I decided to stick with the sheet metal theme and go ahead and remove all the pieces of sheet metal that were riveted to the frame in the front, three in all.  These pieces in the front threatened to cover rust at least as deep and pervasive as I found in the back, but I think I caught a bit of a break here.

Removing the piece on the driver's side, I found a few spots of rust, but more basic evidence of a lazy repair job.  Instead of replacing the panels properly, they simply ripped out the old stuff and hammered and riveted in some new tin and covered it with carpet.  Considering how cheap the carpet was (not a woven fabric but a cheap spun-plastic mat) I can't imagine that this did anything more than keep the draft at bay on chilly mornings.  The wiring harness snakes up behind this panel but it's hard to believe that's the way it's supposed to be.  The entire wiring harness--front to back--is junk, and not just because it went through some kind of electrical fire in the engine compartment.  I'd rather start with a brand-new if somewhat expensive ($300) wiring harness than spend hours trying to track down a short circuit in a thirty-six year old bundle of cracking wires.


With all this tin out, I gave the body its first spray with compressed air.  I wanted to drive all the rust particles to the back and bottom of the car, but I don't want to spray the out around into the environment. I also don't want to wash it since it's had enough water on it already in my opinion, and the water will just leach all those nasty metals into the soil.  So, for now, I've accumulated a fair bit of rust detritus in the back and when I pull the body off the frame, it'll be time to sweep it all out and bag it for disposal.

Next, I am going to tackle the wiring and lights.  Although it's not necessary to separate the body from the frame, I want to clean up the body as much as I can before pulling it, both to save weight and take care of the easiest tasks first.  I also have to untangle and remove all the wires from the engine before I can release the body from its many entanglements.

Windshield & Wiring

At this point, I am still getting to know my new toy.  I know that I want to strip off everything from the body, but it's hard to decide where to actually start.

I settle on the removing dashboard, which is so rusty and rotten that it literally falls apart in my hand.  Still it has to be removed as if it were whole, and this means removing the windshield.  Now you don't actually have to remove the windshield to do this, but it certainly makes it easier, and in this case, since I am just stripping things off the body, it makes sense to pull out the glass.  First off is the aluminum strip that is set into the rubber gasket that actually holds the windshield in place.  This is actually a decorative piece, and in fact many rebuilds leave this off, for what is loosely called the 'Cal' look.

As soon as that is out, it's time to pull the windshield.  It's not as easy as just pushing it out, but that's to be expected since it is wedged in there tightly for a reason.  It really is a two man job, and fortunately my friend Dan, who was joining us for supper that night, pulled up on his bike. So, while some folks sing for their supper, Dan got his hands rusty-greasy-grimy as we yanked that bad boy right out of it's rusty socket.  It's one of those things that I wish I'd noticed, since it might have made it easier to bargain, but the cracked windshield is just the first of many expensive lessons I expect to learn before this adventure is all over.

Next, I turned my attention back to the dash.  Before I could start stripping the rusty crusty shell from the body, though, I had to remove all the gauges, switches, heater controls and wire for all of that. The easiest things to remove are the big ones: the speedometer and the tachometer, so out they come.

The wiring is so tangled and stiff that a lot of wires simply pulled out of their connectors.  No matter, it's all shot so it all comes out.  I am saving all the wiring for now, but I will certainly invest in a brand-new wiring harness, front to rear.  It's really no fun trying to track down a faulty wire; better to start fresh and face the nightmare of trying to plug it all in correctly.

Fortunately, all that's off in the future somewhere.  For now, I am having fun pulling out all the old and thinking about the new.