Everyday TR1 - When desaster strikes... (part 1)

 So about a month I just wanted to do a quick (1)40,000km oil-change, because I knew in the coming weeks quite a bit of driving was due, also the engine had just done several dyno-pulls (more on that in an upcoming post) and it just the right thing to do really. 

 No big deal, right? RIGHT? Look at the drain-plug again. It came out together with the adapter. 

 

The oil looked a lot like it was rightfully being changed, but... well there wasn't much thread left for stainless steel thread repair-insert to bite into. So I made a new one from aluminium. 

Now you may be (very) right to think, if it failed in stainless, how should one made from ally do any better?
 

Noticed a little something? That case is black all of a sudden. (It's actually a broken BT1100 engine case.) So remove the paint/powder coating...

... and pre-heat it.

And suddenly the case is silver again (because I found an old XV750SE case). Guess what, I gave welding up the drain-plug a shot. 

 Wasn't great, but... serviceable. So attempted to repeat it once more on the BT-case. 

It went completely sideways. So with a roughly fifty percent success rate, I decided to bite the bullet and give it a shot. Much better prep, lots of pre-heating...

I'd say not terrible. Not usable either.

Then came up with the "clever" idea to use a stud, so I could get to the backside behind the bolt and weld that one shut. Except... I managed to weld the stud in. As a result, had to weld a nut to the stud... 

This was getting old fast. Also I was going through tungsten-needles like candy... so I asked some actual pros for advice. Pretty much tried all their recommendations and then decided to have a look at the manual of my TIG welder - even though it's AC, it wants to have the leads set up the other way round to how it is supposed to be done when welding DC. 

 

See that hefty bead of aluminium on the bottom and how shiny it is? Well, all of a sudden, it worked properly, only took a few minutes, no real pre-heating and just a bit of patience. Guess who got a bit cocky. Decided to beef up the spot to make it a bit stronger for the future. 

 

 

It was at this moment, that I realized I wasn't going to be happy with what I've done over the last week or so.

New 160mm chuck backplate for the Matra

 Martha II came with a generous selection of original three-jaw chucks, made by very, very reputable manufacturers. Unfortunately they all shared one commonality: They were at least 70 years old and hopelessly worn out. 

To my big surprise Din800 M33 is still a pretty common standard on woodworking lathes. As cutting M33x3.5mm threads by hand is at the best of times "no fun", I was more than delighted to find out that cheap steel fixture plates are commonly available, but usually only up to around 125mm, with the odd one being available in 150mm/6". 

 

So in fact only the center section with the actual thread was really useful to me (for now) and a cheap 63mm (2 1/2") holesaw made relatively short work of the mild steel plate.

 

Trying the same trick on some actual tool-steel finally killed the poor holesaw and left me now other chance than to first drill and then bore the center hole to size.

 

 

Bit of TIG-magic later and a hole for a C-spanner later:

 

The thing with proper tool-steel and the right inserts is, you end up with a really lovely finish.

As the whole "using-a-holesaw-to-drill-the-center-out"-thing really backfired, I decided to do something I had put off for ages. A long while ago, I found a Morse Taper 2 reamer made in the Soviet Republic of Ukraine, still in its original wax coating and wrapper. Based on the writing the outside, I assume it was manufactured in February 1986. So, the brown stuff is almost forty year old wax and not rust. Also it is sharp enough to immediately draw first blood...

 

 

The bore cleaned up absolutely beautifully, even though I might have to face the barrel off by a milimetre or two as all the tool sit in there quite a bit deeper than before.

 

So that's it and I have to admit, even a relatively inexpensive 160mm chuck is a massive improvement over a worn out top-of-the-shelf one from more than 70 years ago. 

Project Pickle - fuel tank woes

 So as you may or may not remember, as port of the restauration, I installed a new fuel tank. Because I can't leave things alone, I drilled a hole and installed a drain plug.

Either the rather massive plug warped during welding or it wasn't as flat as I had hoped to begin with. Anyway, going at it with a file for a while, sorted things permanently. 

 Installed an old TR1 oil-drainplug, because it has a built-in magnet, which should catch some of the rust-flakes that will unavoidably start floating around in the tank. 

 Now one doesn't get particularly spoilt by the lavish creature comforts in the Suzuki, but admittedly this is pretty much all that my fuel gauge was willing to let me know about the situation in the tank.

 Installing a new sender is almost easy, as the opening in the tank has to be modified a little bit, as the late Maruti senders are rectangular boxes and slightly as the original Suzuki item.

And after one rather substantial investment of close to 40L of the finest unleaded petrol, one is presented with this rather epic result:

 

And I'll admit that having a fuel gauge, which whilst not really accurate, is still comforting. 

Project Pickle - over 4100km with a SJ410

Fourthousandonehundred (and change) kilometres in a 1983 Suzuki SJ410 within six months.

Which roughly estimates to around 52 hours behind the steering wheel. To get the obvious out of the way: No, not all that time was fun. As a matter of fact, a lot of times I very strongly (and loudly) questioned my decision. 

But let's start at the beginning: A Suzuki SJ410 is slow. And loud. And if you don't seal all the holes properly, it is also very cold or wet. Or both at the same time. Throw in a questionable alternator and you have a very steep learning curve ahead of you, meaning decisions like: lights, wipers or heater? But it is also the most raw and honest 4-wheeled vehicle I have ever owned. Nothing about a Suzuki SJ is pretentious. Your feet rest against the inside (or outside depends of the point of view) of the wheel wells. The roof? You see the inside of the sheet metal that is the roof and it keeps on going like this. Creature comforts? Well, it's got a heater and provisions for a radio and the gauges are there to inform you about the engine's vitals and what is mandated by the legal code for motor vehicles. 

When working on one it becomes rather apparent that some engineer took a very long look at a World War II Jeep and decided that they could do better. And better they did. Let's start at the very front under the bonnet: A "mighty" 970cc four-cylinder (F10A - also known as the "Yes, Daddy"-engine ), pumping out a rather modest 44hp and around 70NM of  not exactly a lot of torque. But this engine has a very different redeeming feature: Once dialed in properly it simply ignores the fact that it can only put out 44 horses. It also completely forgets the fact that these power-levels are reached at deafening rpm-levels. Pair this with a pair of short-geared axles and a (very nice) four-speed box and you have a little powerplant in front of you screaming at you at 5000 to 6000rpm until let you go of the throttle. Because that's the other thing, the engine is an absolute peach. 

A full grown car with about the overall dimensions of the original Smart, live axles and leaf springs is never going to be a Rolls Royce. Period. Once loaded with 100-200kg in the back the rear springs stop kicking you in the back and whilst still hampered by the short wheelbase, it becomes a lot more bearable. Still the stretch of Autobahn entirely made from concrete slabs spaced approx. the same distance as the wheelbase makes the whole car bounce like a wild bronco. (And made the exhaust split in half.)

So do I regret the Suzuki? No, not at all. A good way to describe it would be to call it a motorcycle with four wheels and a roof. It is surprisingly fuel efficient usually between seven and eight litres per 100 kilometres. It is (just about) fast enough to follow the lorries on the Autobahn and it can do so for several hours without overheating and in a world where everything has to move faster and faster it's a vehicle that will do more than just remind you that whilst it can keep up with most traffic, it's preferred speed is rather different.  

 

(Also there's more stuff coming again on the blog - no worries. 😉) 

Project Pickle - front axle overhaul (part 17)

There were some subtle hints, almost indiscernible signs on that front axle... who am I kidding: There was red RTV on the free wheel hubs and one of the dials didn't move at all. 

 Just in order to get an idea of the state of affairs and because I would have to do it later anyway, should I have to dig in any further, I decided to drain the oil from the axle.

 DID I DECIDE TO DRAIN THE OIL FROM THE AXLE. 

 (In the end I welded a large nut to the filler plug in order to open it and then drained the oil.) The mere fact that the wheelbearing nut wasn't even finger tight probably surprises no one at this point?

Also RTV is clearly the solution, when you actually have leaky axle seals and the oil-grease mix is leaking out of the hubs. 

Be overjoyed for the lack of smell-o-vision. 

Despite the look, the UJ cleaned up nicely (and so did all the other mucky bits), but it was obvious that water got in and did its thing. 

 Surprisingly the kingpin-bearings didn't have any excessive play and could probably have been reused. 

Once cleaned things started to look decidedly better. 

 The wheel bearings were definitely shot.

... and because they were so shot, the axles wore out the actual axle support, which in turn caused the leaky axle seal.

Even though I am well aware that the axle housings will be rusty again at some point, a lick o' paint goes a long way in making stuff look nicer.

 

One of the weird fails prior to the overhaul was a failed star-washer, which probably caused the locknut to come loose at some point. Also the cheap aftermarket ones had a tang which was too wide and wouldn't properly engage with the cut out in the axle. 

In order to get the little circlip in, the axle stub has to be pulled out - turns out that's what the little M8-thread in the end is for.

And that's the front axle overhaul done. Probably the most difficult thing to do was to get the green rubber seals over the balls, which involved putting the wooden handle from my hammer through one of the kingpin bearing seats and levering it over with two small tire irons.