Gearbox

With the trailing arms out and off to the machine shop to receive their new bushings, it was time to pull out the transmission.  I like the British term for this piece better--gearbox--because it sounds racier I guess, but by either name it had to come off the frame for cleaning and inspection.

This is not a difficult job--unless the body and engine are still attached, and even then it's fairly straightforward.  It's attached in just three places, so it was a simple matter to unbolt it and lift it off the frame.  I set up a hydraulic jack underneath just in case, but as it's made of aluminum, after the bolts were out and the shift rod was detached, I was able to simply pull it out and set it off the the side.

The gearbox is dirty but looks to be in good shape.  Although it had a fair amount of crud built up, particularly around the driveaxle connections, it doesn't appear to have been leaking, at least not too much.  The layer of crud is either a bit of grease that oozed from the front seal and has been collecting dirt for thirty-seven years or is just mud and dirt built up in those places you expect it to.  The 'guts' of the gearbox are relatively hard to wear out, so when I check the fluid if it's free of contaminants (especially metal) I will assume that it is ok and just clean it up before putting it back in.  Of course, if there are metal flakes in the fluid, it will be time for a trip to the junkyard.

Speaking of the junkyard, I took the trailing arms in to Austin V-Dub last week to have the bushings replaced and it was a lot more expensive than I thought it would be.  The guy just called to tell me that they are ready and the total came to over $650.  Now, to be fair, $250 of that is actually for the front ball joints, which are being replaced as well.  Although the $400 for the rear trailing arm bushings is a lot of money, I really don't have any choice.  For one thing, the bushings are no longer common, and of course replacing them is no longer a routine machine shop chore.  Fortunately the guy at Austin V-Dub is older and knows what he is doing, which is--of course--a lot more than I can say for myself.

While waiting to save up the money to get my heavy metal parts our of hock next week, I turned my attention to the front beam.  Although I had not intended to pull this off originally, after the work I've done on the rear it seemed like the consistent--if not easiest--thing to do was to pull it off, clean and repaint it.  Just four bolts hold it on, and in just a few minutes my decision proved to be worth it, for the rust and grime I discovered was considerable and I'll feel a lot better about it knowing it's clean and tidy under there, even if no one will ever see it except for me.  This task also meant that my dirty days are not over, as the broken and rusted lower torsion springs left quite a gritty mess inside the tube.  That stuff had to come out, and all the surface grime and rust had to be whisked off the frame with the wire wheel.  Then I  primed and painted the beam, but since I didn't clean up the mounting bracket on the frame, I will have to wait to put it back on this weekend.

That is, if I have time.  I am working all three days so hopefully I will earn enough cash to go get my newly refurbished parts for the following weekend.  Then, watch out!  This baby's going to start going the other way!

The Deepest Point

I am nearly there.  With the removal of the diagonal trailing arms, I have reached what I consider to be the 'deepest' point of the Ghia project.  Here is have gotten to the bushings that must be replaced before I can begin to put it back together.

It wasn't all that hard a task, in spite of the fact that I had to buy yet another special tool--a 17mm allen head wrench--and the fact that these parts would be difficult to reach but for the fact that everything else is off the frame.

At first, though, I wasn't sure if it would even come off.  It looked like there was a dimple in the bracket holding the pivot bolt, so I held off thinking there must be some way to remove or avoid that dimple, but in the end, I just went ahead and twisted out the bolt.  If there was any resistance from the dimple, I didn't feel it.  When I put it back, it'll be interesting to see if it has any bearing on the way it goes together and/or works.

I took the other trailing arm off yesterday, so for now, though, I have reached the limit of what I can do to the car.  I still have to remove the transmission, but that hardly counts, as there are just three bolts holding that in and they are easy to get to.

My next step will be to have the ball joints pressed out and new ones pressed into the front suspension.  At the same time, I'll take in the rear trailing arms to have the bushings removed and replaced.

Driveaxles

While I am waiting for an bolt of inspiration that will loose the stuck nut that hinders my progress on removing the right rear wheel, I decided to work on something else, knowing that there are others things to work on and hoping that progress there would raise my gumption level and break the impasse that stalled me for a week or more.

Although I don't intend to rebuild the engine, I find that term 'rebuild' to be a bit flexible.  That is, because I have removed the engine, there are many parts of it that I will remove, clean, repair, sand, paint and replace as part of the overall refurbishment.  These are things like the alternator and fan, the 'doghouse' shroud that holds that fan and covers the oil cooler, the carburetor, the intake manifold and the alternator pulley.

None of these things need to be replaced, just cleaned, painted and reassembled.  The engine has, from the beginning, looked to be in very good shape, and when I got all that stuff off my hopes were buoyed, if not actually confirmed.  The oil that I (finally) drained from the crankcase was dirty but not contaminated with any metal that I could feel.  For some reason, I have yet to conduct one of the easiest and most basic tests of an engine's condition, the spark plugs.  I'll have to do this tonight.


Once I had all the dirty (but not rusty or even bent) shrouding removed and buffed the dirt off the head covers, I discovered a little tag that says "Made in the Netherlands".  I am not sure if this means the whole engine, or just the head cover, but it's an interesting discovery.  At this point I stopped and put the engine aside, but before I put it back together, I will consider removing and/or changing the heads.  I plan to put in dual carbs, so it may be that some new (or rebuilt) heads would improve the engine performance enough to make it worthwhile.  I'll 'save' that for later.

The next task I turned to was removing the driveaxles.  This job required buying a(nother) new tool--which came as part of a set of three--to remove the bolts that connect the two ends of the driveaxle.  The driveaxle connects the transmission to the wheels, and removing it is the next-to-last step in the tear-down process.  When the body is still on the frame, this in one of the hardest to reach and dirtiest places on the car, but as it stands now, it's very easy to reach.

These bolts are still plenty dirty, though, and to make use of the tool without stripping out them out, I had to make sure all the little splines were cleaned out thoroughly.  These bolts are unique to VW's, and are apparently still in use on today's cars, so you won't find the tools to remove them at Home Depot, or even Freight Harbor.  I had to order them online. It was certainly worth the expense and the wait because it really does fit at both ends: into the bolt heads and on my ratchet.  It was a little scary, at first, using it.  It felt as if it was going to strip like aluminum, but a little extra leverage was all it took.  In no more than ten minutes, all twelve bolts and the driveaxle were out.  Although this was dirty, it doesn't appear to be damaged or rusted, so it's likely that a simple clean and re-grease is all these parts will need.

After both of the driveaxles are out, I can remove the transmission.  Like the engine, it looks to be in pretty good shape.  I'll have to drain the fluid and see if there is any metal in it, and decide from there whether or not I'm going to replace it.  This is another decision to be made down the road, so to speak.

Next I will turn my attention to removing the diagonal swing arms, which connect the wheel bearings to the frame of the car.  This is more heavy metal work and may even require one more special tool, but it will be the last (major) part to come off the car.  There are still a number of pieces to come off the frame before it can be cleaned, sanded and painted, so I can't say that the teardown is at an end, but I am getting close!

Stuck

I'm stuck.

It's not a big problem, really. But it is enough to have got me stuck in what Robert Pirsig, author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance called a "gumption trap." This is a place where, for a reason often very, very small, an entire project grinds to a halt because the driving desire behind the project--the gumption--is lost.

A gumption trap starts with something simple that fails or doesn't work the way it is supposed to. In my case, it's a stuck nut. I know, I know, that sounds like a perfect description of yours truly.

In this case, the nut I'm talking about--the one that has me figuratively stuck because it is literally stuck--is a rather large steel one. To be precise, it is a 36mm nut, and it holds the brake assembly--drum, brakes and backing plate--to the rear driveaxle. There are two of these nuts, one on each side of the car.  They are--quite naturally, given the job that they do (holding the wheels on)--torqued down very, very tight.  I got one off, no problem.  But the other one is, well, stuck.

I don't know how many foot-pounds it takes to break this nut exactly, nor do I really care, but I do know it's one helluva lot. I know (now) that you are supposed to break these nuts while the car is not merely still assembled, but also while it is still resting on the ground. In other words, this should have been one of the first things I did, like six months ago.

This nut is stuck because the amount of force required to break it free is no more than two or three pounds less than the entire weight of the car.  Now that it's stripped down to the frame, I just can't bring enough force to bear. My puny little 140 pounds of dead weight is just not enough. Even the breaker bar that extends my reach by a foot and a half and doubles my leverage is insufficient to the task.

So, there you go.  I'm stuck. I've tried various solutions, but so far, nothing's worked. In fact, so many things haven't worked that I can say with some certainty: I am stuck. I look at it. I think about it. Nothing comes to mind. Yet.

Actually, being stuck isn't all bad. In fact, it may be the very reason why I've undertaken this project in the first place. In Zen, Pirsig used the idea of 'stuckness' as a pivotal point for his inquiry into the nature of Reality.  He observed that it's not until we are stuck--that is, in a critical situation without an obvious solution--that we become momentarily aware of Reality itself.

Reality appears to us only for that moment, however. As soon as we find our solution, we lose that direct contact with it, and find ourselves dealing instead with the duality that masquerades as the world.  We turn from the light and again see only the shadows.

Fear not, I'm in no danger of losing touch with Reality.  Though I am staring at the light, I'm still well and truly stuck on this damn nut.

The exasperating aspect of this situation is the fact that this is a double-edged sword (or wrench, if you will) that I'm holding here. On the one hand, as both Readers know, I love the metal and the grease and the whole taking-things-apart idea that the Ghia project embodies. In a simple world, it'd be easy to explain these impulses as simple boyish desires to have fun tinkering and getting dirty.  I don't deny it. To a large extent, that is actually the case.

On the other hand, if it were all too easy (if that nut were to just come rightoff), it'd be no fun either.  Ironically, it actually feels good to be stuck.  For a while, anyway.  It seems that I seek stuckness as a way of finding satisfaction in what I do.  It's an integral part of the process and the source of my motivation.  Escaping from the gumption trap is truly an exhilarating feeling.  But you can't get that feeling without getting stuck, first.

I know, to a casual observer driving down our street on a Sunday afternoon, it might look like I'm just standing over a rusted hulk of a car with a couple of buddies, drinking beer from a green bottle and doing nothing. There's some truth to that.

But that's only part of the story.

Inside that stereotypical South Austin driveway mechanic is a true philosophical type, pondering the infinite mysteries of a stuck bolt in much the same way Socrates considered the nature of Love during one of those infamous all night drinking parties he had with his buddies.

Ok, ok, so I'm no Socrates and this is no Symposium. But then, could he, would he, have figured out how to break this damn nut?

Front End Follies and Engine Removal

Much to the disappointment of at least one Reader, there will be no further mention of ball-banging in this journal, as it appears that the author is, sadly, incapable of said banging.

Close observation and careful reading on the internet (both of which are considered by experts to be critical auto mechanical skills) have revealed that the task is one best left to professionals, who will apparently not bang, but gently press the ball-joints out of their sockets in the torsion arms, at a cost of $35 per socket (or ball-joint, depending on your point of view).

To this end, yesterday I called Austin VeeDub--the local VW scrapyard/spare parts/machine shop--and they do this all the time, so instead of ordering the ball-joints online and trying to put them in myself, I'll just pay for the service and the parts and let them do it all in one go.  I'll just take in the old and come back for the new.

Pulling all these parts off has been relatively easy till now.  This is the first thing that I simply can't do here in the driveway.  There will be other things, like having the rotors turned and polished.  I had to pull them off first, of course, before I could get to the ball joints and torsion arms, and they look a bit worse than they really are.  They are a bit rough and have a bit of rust around the edges and on the back, but that can be machined/cleaned off with relative ease.

The piece I was after was a bushing.  This bit of plastic (formerly rubber) is what keeps the torsion arm from scraping against the front beam tube, and it is the most difficult and 'deepest' part I will have to replace before I can begin to rebuild.  Or so I thought.  Pulling off the lower torsion arms I discovered that the spring steel torsion 'leaves' that are inside the front beam tubes were rusted and broken.  Somehow water had made it's way into the tube and reduced the grease inside to a useless gray cream.  Rust and torque did the rest.  I pulled out the whole set of torsion leaves and threw away the broken ones.  The call to Austin VeeDub also revealed that they had sets of these leaves in the used parts department.  All I have to do is come down and find a set that fits.  Interestingly, when I called Austin VeeDub, the used parts manager is the same guy that was working there back when I rebuilt my other two VW's!  I don't know if he'll remember me, but I sure remember him.  he helped me solve more problems than anyone besides John Muir (cf. How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive).

After pulling apart the front beam as much as possible without actually pulling it off the frame (no need to do that yet, as I'd just have to store it somewhere) it was time to remove the steering box.  I hadn't planned on this, but discovered that after the power washing I had gotten some water in the box and it was beginning to get stiff.  So, I pulled it off and as I turned it over, the remainder of the oil in the case poured out all over my leg.  Three days and three showers later, I think the smell is gone, whew!

Next it was time to pull off the engine.  This is necessary at this point only to restore some balance to the frame now sitting up on jack stands.  After pulling off all the front heavy metal, the whole thing was beginning to get back heavy, which meant I could tip it up with barely a finger.  One more part off and the it would just sit up on it's butt.  Richard suggested putting some rocks on the front end to hold it down, but I opted to pull the engine instead.

Pulling the engine is not a difficult job when the body is on the car, but with it off, it's amazingly easy.  There are just four bolts holding it to the transmission case, and I had these out in just a couple of minutes.  I bought a cheap little dolly at the tool store and put it under the engine along with a couple of scissor jacks.  Then when the bolts were out, I just lowered it down and set in on the little dolly and voila!  Now I have the engine off but I don't have to move it very far, which is nice.  I just leave it under the trap like before.

It looks like the clutch is is good shape, which reinforces my belief that this car didn't get driven very much after the rebuilt engine was put in.  Closer inspection of the transmission though, makes me think it was the original on the car, and a likely candidate for replacement.  Leaks from the seals around the driveshafts are good indicators that it's time to replace rather than refurbish this part.  After all, it's way too complicated and just cheap enough that I don't have to bother.

Next up:  After transmission removal, the rebuild begins with the front beam.

Heavy Metal

 I didn't get to work on the Ghia yesterday because I had to drive to Dallas on business, but it would have been a great day to turn a corner, so to speak, in the process.  As it is, I was able to get after some of the front suspension the week before, when the temperature dropped and just enough snow fell that we got a day off.  Cold though it was, it was still a bright sunshiney day, and I went out to bust some knuckles on some cold and heavy steel.

As it turns out, I didn't manage to hurt myself in spite of the cold and the repeated use of a hammer to remove the tie rod ends and the ball joints.  Because they have to literally support all the steel I've already managed to strip off the car, the suspension parts are the heaviest and hardest to remove of all the pieces on the frame, including the engine.  I used a special tool called a 'pickle fork' to remove the tie rod ends, driving the wedge-like steel fork into the gap between the stuck tie-rod end and the pitman arm (on the steering box) and the wheel spindles.  It seemed like mayhem, but after a couple of whacks, they came right out.

I wish the same could be said for the ball joints.  The top joints fell out of their mountings with a couple of hard whacks with the hammer, but the bottom joints are in too fast to simply bang out, especially on a cold day.  I've been reading that the way to get them out is to heat the torsion arm mounts until they are a dull red, then bang 'em out with the hammer.  It doesn't sound very precise, but it might be easier and cheaper than buying a special tool.

Once I removed the brake rotors I had my first look at the front wheel bearings, which looked perfect.  A little clean and some new grease and it will work perfectly.  I am not so sure about the rotors, which are a bit rusty on the edges but otherwise smooth across the braking surface.  They aren't expensive to replace, but I am working on the principle that anything not broken or worn out can be cleaned up and put back on the car.  It's both economical and respectful of the mechanics--if it ain't broke, I am not going to fix it.  Besides, there's plenty of broken and rusty stuff that I can replace!  In any case, I am finally down to the most basic element.  Once I replace the two bushings on the torsion bar arms, I'll be on my way back up.

Next: Ball joint banging