How Gertie Got Her Groove Back

As Mitch and Colin sat down at the end of the day to wrap up the details on Ludwig, I was fully expecting them to co-create a to-do list for Ludwig like in years past. Opening the conversation, Colin offered to stay another day to consult on Gertie. Unbeknownst to me, they had been discussing Gertie prior to the infamous spring--> (boing!) --> engine case incident from the previous day. After discussing the issues, consulting Mitch's notes, and a quick trip to the engine compartment, Colin suggested Gertie's engine wasn't as dire as we suspected.

Please understand that I had completely accepted the solemn idea that it might be a year or two before I'd drive my our beloved Gertie once again. We were under the impression she needed a major engine rebuild before driving her again. To hear that there was a chance she would be road-ready in 24 hours was more than I could comprehend. Seriously.

Eager to get the first nerve-wracking solo drive out of the way, Tater Tot and I were largely absent from the day's events revisiting our local favorite places. (By the way, Tater Tot's first words to Ludwig while climbing in to her seat were, "I missed you, Ludwig!")  And I had so much nervous excitement about the remote possibility that Gertie might soon be on the road that I couldn't bear to stick around the garage.

Apparently, for the chunk of the day I was absent there were many hoses replaced, wires checked, an MPS inspected, and some other things I missed. Shortly after our return, she was ready for her first test drive. When they returned Colin happily suggested I take her on a test drive, but I abruptly replied "no" and something about "tick-tock". We were creeping up on the end of the day and I was freaked out that he would have to leave before she'd be road ready. 

Then they worked on this thing in Colin's hand for I don't know how long. What was it? I don't know. I was too anxious to be paying close attention. But I do know it has a bunch of copper parts, and the were having a hard time adjusting it. I can also share that consults on Gertie require a lot more manual reading than Ludwig. I suspect it's because of her complicated little fuel injected engine.

Then Mitch repacked Gertie's hubs with grease.

Tater Tot watched.

I ended up going on a test drive with Colin later on after all. In case you are curious, Colin also gives helpful driving tips to decrease wear on the VWs. He also offers invaluable tidbits about how to not be driven mentally insane by the worry that accompanies having two old ACVWs as our only sources of transportation.

Don't worry, there's more to come. When Colin leaves, the work really isn't over. He's actually more of a consultant-catalyst.

The World's Most Involved Oil Change

The order of the day was to see why Ludwig wouldn't start and, after starting him, to make him run not so poorly.

Chloe and Colin showed up in the afternoon and wrenching commenced. Ludwig was soon up-and-running.

We talked about carburetors, timing, the whole deal. Things were going well.

We took him for a spin. With the carbs pretty well dialed in, Ludwig was a joy to drive. In fact, he drove as well or better than he ever has. Very hunky dory.

So why would a couple guys just back from a very pleasant (except for the steering, which Colin had nothing but dark words for) shakedown run next be seen with the engine removed?

Well, a point of minorish annoyance was Ludwig's lack of a working vacuum retard. ("Vacuum? Just get a 009, like John Muir says to." No. Shut up.) It's a simple fix really: remove the distributor, disassemble it, clean it, and replace it. Remove, disassemble, and clean went well. Replace, not so much.

"That hole there?" he asked. Yes that hole there. That hole there, the hole that feeds oil to the distributor shaft, is where the spring I was replacing, the little unassuming spring who gives tension to the bottom of the distributor shaft, f&^*ing slipped down into the f@#$ing crankcase. Into. The f$%^ing. Crankcase. There is literally no worse possible place in the engine for something like that to go.

For the next several hours the garage was enveloped in such dismay and disbelief (coming from me, not Colin who was unbelievably--one wants to say "disturbingly"--upbeat about the whole affair) that few pictures were taken. I mean, we were looking at disassembling the entire engine. A nine-hour work day suddenly had the specter of 38 hours hanging over it. What's worse, during the engine-in attempt to fish out the spring with a $0.89 telescoping magnet, the freaking magnet disattaches and falls into the case.

Amazingly, hours later, Colin was able to reattach the magnet--which we got a look at--to its telescope assembly. No mean feat when it is much happier making friends with all the steel parts in the case. Normally when a tool offends me to this degree I'm inclined to give it the heave-ho, but we glued the magnet back on and went fishing in the engine case again, upside down now, for the spring. "How about we c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y turn the flywheel and see if anything happens?" Okay, careful, careful, careful, aha! Colin spies and retrieves the wayward spring, mere minutes away from preparing ourselves mentally and physically for a complete teardown. Honestly, I nearly cried. 

After reinstalling the engine we put in fresh oil (have to drain all the oil if you're gonna flip an engine upside down) and were back to talking about timing and carbs.

Praise be.

Next: Gertrude Butterblume.

Space (I Believe In)

One of Big Blue's Drivers was promised an overview of how I organize my tools (such that I do) long ago. In preparation of Colin's stop this Friday, I've been straightening out my work space and as a consequence can now address BB's D's request.

On the top shelf are various lubricants, sealers, adhesives, and such, excluding engine oil. Next down are some basic tune-up parts like oil strainers and filters, valve cover gaskets, points, and condensers. On the left are some parts that are either waiting to be installed (e.g. fuel vapor recovery lines for Gertie, heater cables for Ludwig) or might come in handy during a tune-up (like ignition coils and manifold pressure sensors). Down another shelf is some stuff like speedometers that I don't want to get beat up by bigger, heavier parts, and some stuff that's awaiting repair and installation like Ludwig's fluorescent light and Gertie's clock. The bottom shelf has things that I'd like to use sooner or later like new headlights for Gertie, and maintenance parts too heavy for a higher shelf, like brake pads and shoes. In the bottom left corner of the picture is a crate of stuff I'm actively trying to sell.

I pulled this stack of drawers out of the basement and split up a bunch of various bits of hardware like nuts and bolts and washers which were previously stored in coffee cans into it. It's mostly non-VW specific except for one drawer with little easy-to-lose, hard-to-find bits.

The trusty ol' toolbox has been featured in the past; wrenches and sockets are on top, the top drawer is full of screwdrivers, and the bottom drawer things that you squeeze and/or that fit different sized hardware, like pliers and crescent wrenches.

Big things like prybars go in the olive oil can, cleaning stuff goes in the coffee can, the red thing puts out fires, blah blah blah.

Melcher leaves his shop stereo on all the time and I'd gotten quite used to it but Melissa doesn't like it when I leave ours on. But I'm happy to have a stereo in the garage now at all so I can listen to my prized, neglected collection of cassettes. Close examination of that 1951 Montana license plate shows it has "Prison Made" stamped on it. A prize to whoever can tell me what that silver thing resting above and to the right of the cassettes is.

"The cleaner the dipstick, the closer to God", sayeth the Reverend Horton Heat. I hope those shop rags/prayer cloths aren't rare or anything because I use mine. In the compartments below the workbench are diagnostic tools like my timing light, dwell meter, compression tester. Also some bigger things like torque wrenches and my grease gun live down there. On the left are a few other awkwardly shaped items. On the right are our tire chains.

Two other big compartments are filled with Volkswagen parts of varying utility. Some of this stuff is undoubtedly junk--seven extra hubcaps, anyone?--but some is good stuff if not downright valuable, like the OG Type 3 intake air bellows in perfect condition and several Type 3 oil filler boots.

So there it is. I didn't even mention the stuff I couldn't take pictures of because Ludwig's in the way, or the junk I've stowed in the basement because it's just too much to think about really. If anyone has any tips on how I can best heat a garage while taking up next to no space, I'd love to hear them.

10, 13

I don't know as these wrenches should be counted among my favorite tools, but since the most common sizes for nuts and bolts on an air-cooled VW are 10 and 13 millimeters they deserve some kind of mention. If you work on Type 3s or late buses, you really should get an extended 10mm like this one for easier loosening and tightening of the distributor clamp. 1/2" and 13mm wrenches are basically interchangeable, fyi.

Bentley Type 3 Service Manual

I bought my copy of the Bentley manual for Type 3s in, I think, 1991 from John Osborne at Metric Motors in Windside Nebraska. He sold it to me cheap because it was fairly beat up (during my ownership it got much more beat up). It's an earlier printing.

I don't know why I started doing this, but when you're on a roll....

This is why I've never bought a newer, non-beat up copy: mine's old enough that the wiring diagrams are in color. Decoding b&w wiring diagrams when you're an electricity idiot can only lead to muffled weeping.