Before the snow came, Tomi and I decided to take the Miata out on one last drive. We headed up the Alpine Loop from Alpine, Utah to Provo Canyon with a quick detour to Cascade Springs. It was a beautiful, crisp late October day. A perfect close to a great year of driving.
This morning when I woke up I had at least two inches of snow on my lawn. This after two days of four plus inches in the morning. It always melts by mid day, but I’m relatively sick of snow at this point. Its April 10th for gods sake!
So I decided to offer up the sacrifice of a couple pounds of flesh to the Spring Gods:
Delicious, and hopefully spring will finally grace us with its presence!
Back with another exciting installment of Auto Text! Eric and I discuss the Nissan Altima Coupe and the Hyundai Genesis Coupe.
Eric: Why can’t the Altima Coupe be RWD with a 2.0T and a 6-speed? Why Stephen? Why?
Stephen: Because the world hates you. Besides, just get a Genesis Coupe.
Eric: But the Altima Coupe is so much sexier. Kind of an awkward ass, but I can forgive that.
Stephen: Yeah, I know. But do you love what’s on the inside? I mean, she may be a pretty face but does she make you smile? The Genesis Coupe may not have the looks, but she’ll keep you happy.
Eric: Ms. Altima could make me smile in SR trim with a V6. But at that point she really let herself go with the weight and that gold digging $32k sticker. The Genesis accepts me for who I am in 2.0 R-spec trim for $10k less and she makes me laugh and feel young again. Do you know what it’s like to laugh like that?
Stephen: To laugh like you’re young and free without a care in the world? Son, I drive a Miata. I know.
Eric: How I long for that unbridled passion. How could I even think of that money grubbing Altima when the sweet Genesis is at my beck and…
OMG Integra what are you doing home so soon? I.. I was just looking at this C&D Genesis article for Stephen… No, it’s got nothing to do with you! Honey, come back here!
Stephen: Eric, you’ve got to man up and tell Teggy that you’re growing apart. That you have adult needs that she can’t fulfill. You want to do power slides and lay down insane patches of rubber. You want 50/50 weight distribution. You want boost! She needs to know it’s not her, it’s you.
Eric: I know. I’ve tried but she gets so angry and yells at me. Deep down, I’m scared to leave her.
Stephen: Some times, Eric, bold action is the only way.
Eric: Some day. But not today. Shhh… She might hear us.
Stephen: I’ll pray for you.
Eric: Thanks.
…Was a good night. The cork was popped the moment we heard the House had fallen on the Wicked Witch and toasts were had for every flying monkey blotted from the sky! Now we can look forward to everyone turning away from the mythical land of Oz and going back to Kansas.
Several of my good friends and I often lament that the ’80′s are long gone. Though we were but babes in that most luminous of recent decades, to us it represents the last of the golden age. When getting to go out and play with friends meant running around outside, not hoveling in the basement in front of a PlayStation. When music was unique and diverse, not all auto tuned mindless drivel. Before computers had taken over cars (and our lives) and the state decided to try to become everyone’s nanny. When political bickering ended at the water because we all had a common foe. Back when men were men and women liked it that way!
Now I have attempted to keep politics at a minimum on this site but I saw the following ad today, and though it is decidedly slanted one way, I think that it sums up how far our country has fallen in the last 26 years particularly if you juxtaposition it against the original Reagan campaign ad. Not just because of the current or previous administrations, but because of so many things in society that we have lost since the 1980′s.
Now am I saying that I want to go back to the 80′s? Fear of nuclear war, terrible fashion (shoulder pads? Mom, what the hell were you thinking?), no internet, ect. ect. The answer is no. And I’m not aggrandizing Ronald Reagan here either. All I’m saying is that the 80′s, love ‘em or hate ‘em, represented a period of innocence and simplicity that I sometimes long to return.
Continuing our often slightly off color automotive texting, Eric and I discuss the Ferrari 458 Italia:
(Photo © 2010 richebets; used under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license)
Stephen: Outside of our usual area of interest, but what are your thoughts on the 458 Italia (aside from being flaming hot)?
Eric: Makes me pretty hot in my pants. Prettier then the F430 and I didn’t think that was possible. Way hotter than the 360 Modena. Puns not intended.
Stephen: I think between the California and the Italia the Italia is far more attractive. And let’s face it, for folks like us who cares about the performance of a Ferrari. All we ever get out of them is eye candy. Just like freshman coeds. That’s not to say I wouldn’t flog a 599 GTB like the naughty exchange student she is.
Eric: Well put.
My friend Eric and I are members of the automotive enthusiast fringe. The weirder, harder to find the better. This is an absolutely hilarious text message exchange we had the other day regarding one of my favorite websites, Bring a Trailer.
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Eric: Dude, what have u done? Bringatrailer.com is cocaine. I Keep telling myself I have it under control.
Me: Yes… Yes it is. That Cosworth gave me a redwood.
Eric: Oh yeah! and the 953 Rally! Boing! I can stop any time.. I can stop any time.
Me: Snooort.
Eric: Oh yes… (wipes blood from nostril) thats it right there
Me: Rusty pipe? Been awhile since you thought about buying a 30 year old 25k garage find?
Eric: Apparently. I usually fap to the stuff on hemmings site, but this stuff is more kink… I mean unique
Me: Its kinda like 8mm snuff films, I know. The stuff on Hemmings is so pedestrian and clean. You have to be really out there to like BaT.
Eric: Oh yeah. It makes me feel so dirty.. and I love it. I also love our seemless transition from drug to sex innuendo
Me: Sex, drugs and rusty cars baby!
I work on cars all the time and I enjoy it right up to the point when you are no longer doing it for fun, but rather out of need.
Today I noticed that my Samurai was having some issues starting, acting like it had a dying battery. That pissed me off because it’s got a new Optima Redtop and I had the alternator tested just a few weeks ago. So everything should be good.
I pulled into my parking spot at work and shut the engine off and I thought I would make sure it would start again. Nope. Needless to say I was pissed. Car wouldn’t start, I was already late for work (not that really mattered) and it was raining.
I popped the hood and took a quick look around, jiggled some wires and tried to start it again, but to no avail. Not much I could do at the moment so I locked everything down and headed into work.
First think I did when I got into work was call into the knowledge database (Dad) to see what he thought. He thought the same as I, no power equals either a dead battery or a short somewhere. Both were not exciting propositions, but I was hoping for the former just for ease.
As I sat at work contemplating the problem my thoughts turned to a problem I had had before I left for a trip to the Arizona Strip several weeks ago. There had been some corrosion on the back side of the weather pack coming off the batteries accessory wire. The first opportunity that I could take a break at work I headed out into the soaking parking lot and popped the hood on the Samurai again.
So there I am, hood up, rain pouring down in the middle of the parking lot and I’m rooting around the engine compartment for wires. I had several guys look at me oddly as they drove by, of course none of them stopping to offer help.
After the offending weather pack was located I found that the corrosion and eaten away at the wire heading into it. I pulled the tool box out and clipped the weather pack off and stripped the wire down. Then I reconnected everything for a quick fix and sure enough, it started right up. Sweet. I closed everything up and headed back into work still within my 15 minute break limit.
You may be asking why I would want to post such a tale up. I remember as a kid seeing people working on cars in parking lots all the time. My Dad and I have replaced a clutch in a hotel parking lot. You don’t see that anymore.
That is for several reasons, but paramount is that vehicles are too complex now, which I have complained about before, and the gear head lifestyle is dying as a result. Fathers and son’s no longer bond over working on cars. People never learn how to change a tire, let alone diagnosis wiring problems. It’s sad.
So I posted this little tale as an example of ‘When Men Were Men’ and not afraid to get their hands dirty and stand in the rain just to get their car back on the road. I feel privileged that I was blessed with a father who thought it was important enough to teach me that I can fix practically anything myself.
While I was building Tomi a bike I realized that this would mean that I needed a bike too. Tomi would want to ride to the store together, the park, ect. Unlike Tomi’s bike, I didn’t need to go searching for one, I knew what one I would fix up. My Dad’s 1962 Raleigh Sprite:
As you can see from the above picture, it had been sitting for awhile. Probably 12 years or more. A little history on the bike is that my Dad got this in 1962 when he was 13 years old. It is a 10 speed using a Campagnolo Gran Sport friction derailer system. It has a 22.5 inch frame, which is a little short for me, but not bad. The saddle is a Lycett B15 Sparrow.
I remember my Dad riding it with my sister, Mom and I when I was a kid. Of course, once I got my drivers license, bike riding was out. So the bike languished at first in the garage, then in the old playhouse in the backyard. Once I knew I needed a bike, this is the first one that popped in my head. Not only because of my long standing mantra of never buying new vehicle’s, but also for the history.
There was nothing mechanically wrong with the bike, it just needed a really good cleaning and a tune up. So I set myself upon it, the results of which will be detailed in pictures later. I really wanted to keep the bike as original as possible, but a few things had to be swapped. First were the consumables. Tires, brake pads, handle bar grips. The tires I replaced with Continental Ultra Sport’s, the pads with Shimano R50t’s and white Bontrager handlebar wraps to match the original brake cable housings. I was lucky enough to be able to recover the brake cable housings, which I was afraid would be too brittle.
I wavered back and forth on whether or not to try and restore the extremely rusty original wheels. Finally I decided to just replace them when new steel ones. A consequence of this decision was that I needed to get the five speed free wheel gear cluster off the old wheel. I was unable to and none of the bike shops I took it to could either, even resulting in one shop rounding off their tool! So I had to get a new gear cluster, which was disappointing.
To clean the bike I striped it down to just the frame and crank. I went over the whole thing with Brake Kleen and got all the dirt and grime off of it. And there was a lot! It took two whole cans of Brake Kleen. Next I used rubbing compound on all the chrome and polished the frame. Finally I waxed everything. Doesn’t sound like too hard of a task, but it took me a couple of days to really get it good and clean. The results speak for themselves though.
The saddle was another item that I wondered if I should replace. It was 50 years old, dry and cracking. I went online to see if I could find a replacement, only to find that Lycett had been bought out by Brooks decades ago and a replacement Brooks saddle of the same design was nearly $300! Even good used ones on eBay fetch over $100. That was a bit out of my budget. So I spent a few hours really rubbing in saddle soap on both the top and bottom and polishing the rails. The result is a very supple saddle. I’m not sure how comfortable it is, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.
It was a very enjoyable experience to bring the bike back to something of it’s former glory. So now, onto the pictures!
Cleaned and ready to ride!
Really cool, and shiny, badge on the fork.
Thats right! A typewriter! Amazing, huh? So here’s the story. As many of you know I do a lot of 4-wheeling. One of the trips that I take is called the Relic Run. This is a multi-day expedition done only with vehicles aged 1979 or older and camping gear that is in the spirit of the 1970′s or older. Last year, 2009, was the inaugural run of this event. We circumnavigated the Great Salt Lake and had a blast. This year we are heading to the High Unita’s.
So what does the typewriter have to do with this? We’ll I’ve been tasked with trying to stir up some media interest. One of the ideas that I had was to contact these various outlets with an authentic, type written letter in conjunction with our more modern techniques. Strange, perhaps, but also make us seem like a fun group.
So I asked my mom if I could borrow her old electric typewriter. What we have here is a Smith-Corona Coronet Automatic 12.
This is original ’70′s. My mom got it for her high school graduation in 1971 and took it with her to college and business school. It is mint, not a scratch or dent on it. Perfect working order. The only thing I had to replace is the ribbon. Even the carrying case is perfect. And it needs a carrying case, because it weighs a solid ton!
I haven’t typed too much on it yet, but all I can say is that it is satisfying. The weight that you have to use to push down the keys. The reverberation you feel as the arm strikes the paper. And of course, that sound. The wonderful typewriter sound. It makes typing on my Apple Slim Keyboard just feel, well, fake.
Part of me wishes that I could use a typewriter all the time to write. But it’s just not practical in todays world. It will be fun to use for this project, and probably future Relic Run‘s. As with so many things, I just have a problem with nostalgia. A typewriter is just so simple and reflects a simpler time.
