Down to Brass Tacks (Post #13)

Bo offered to sell me the car.  I was tempted, but there were a few other things on my mind at the same time, like getting drafted!  This was 1969, the war in Viet Nam was in full swing and Uncle Sam needed more cannon fodder.  All males born between 1944 and 1950 were given a lottery number, and when your number was drawn, you were drafted--unless you had some kind of deferment.  Being enrolled in an institution of higher learning could keep you out of the draft, but only if you completed a certain number of credit hours per semester.  And I was a little behind . . . . 

Then there was the money.  I didn't have any.  For some reason it didn't occur to me that a penniless university student who is about to be drafted needs a 14 year-old clapped out exotic Italian sports car like he needs an all expense paid trip to Southeast Asia. 

So I bought it. 

Numbers are important for cars, too.  Every car has a lot of them: part numbers, registration numbers, license numbers, body numbers, chassis numbers, engine numbers, etc.  To register a car you have to know the chassis number and it's good to know the engine number, too.  At the time it was a nuisance looking for them but eventually I realized they are of critical importance.

Chassis number AR 1900C *02016*

Engine number 1308*01541*

Being in law school, Bo drew up a contract enabling me to pay in installments.  The first installment in October, 1969, was my old Honda 305 Scrambler, already an antique itself, but freshly painted with a rebuilt transmission . . . and even more freshly wrecked!  Days before consummating the deal on the Alfatross I flew over the handlebars at about 40 mph on a bridge right in front of a Greyhound bus.  I came out of it largely intact, but the bike was a mess.  Later I determined that the odometer cable had wrapped itself around the front drum brake after a strut worked loose, instantly locking up the front wheel. 

Unfazed, Bo delivered the bike anyway to a customer he had already lined up.  In order to save the deal I had to throw in what passed for a stereo set in those days: a record player with two speakers.  The other payments were in cash totalling $770. 

A year later, for better or for worse, the Alfatross was mine!

Wheels and Spinners (Post # 12)

While the work is progressing on the rotisserie other important aspects of the restoration are moving along in parallel. The rotisserie is one of the items on my list of individual tasks that can be done in-house.  But there are a lot of tasks that it is wiser to farm out.  It isn't always easy to decide which is which.  A good example is the Wire Wheel Saga. 

The Alfatross triple-laced 72-spoke "Record"
wire wheels before restoration.

My wheels were in pretty bad shape from the beginning.  They were one task I knew I would have to send out to a sub-contractor.  Why? you might ask.  They look like nothing more than beefy bicycle wheels.  How hard can it be?  The correct answer is VERY!  The somewhat delicate light-weight alloy rims have to be separated from the spokes and hubs, which are steel.  Everything has to be cleaned, re-chromed, and re-assembled.  Special jigs and equipment are necessary.  I asked around for advice on who could be trusted to do the job and was directed to Mr. Cork Adams of Precision Wire Wheels in Quincy Illinois.  Two years and $2,763.65 later they came back.  It was worth the wait.  I almost hate to put tires on them and put them back in service!

In addition to cleaning, re-chroming, and re-lacing, Cork also re-stamped the rims with the original manufacturing data and applied the "Carlo Borrani SPA" decals to the hub interiors.


 

An original spinner after the vacation in California 

As the wheels were nearing completion I turned my attention to the knock-off "spinners," which seem to have seen a lot of neglect and curb-surfing over the decades, not to mention the fact that you are supposed to hit them with a hammer to tighten or loosen them!  They were rusty and in need of re-chroming, but the biggest concern was how to restore the embossed Alfa logo and "dismount" instruction engraving. I considered trying to do this myself as well as trying to buy NOS replacements, but I really wanted to restore the originals that came with the car.  Both options dead-ended.  Cork said he knew a guy in California who might be able to restore them, so I sent all four spinners to Cork to forward to his engraver.  At this point things started to go sideways: an object lesson in what can happen to your stuff when you send it out to a sub-contractor.  The guy in California was going through a divorce, or his dog died, or his pencil was dull or whatever.  At one point he said he lost my parts!  Finally, months later, I got the spinners back in much worse condition than they were sent out in--and a bill for $50!  Restoration was no longer an option!

Restoration is no longer an option

Then a miracle occurred.  Leafing through a car magazine one day I saw an article about the revival of the Borrani company, long out of business.  The article said someone had breathed new life into the firm and they would soon be up and running again and able to manufacture new wheels and spinners using the original dies and equipment!  I saved the article but didn't follow up until I decided that 2013 would be Resurrection Year for the Alfatross.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote to Matteo Bosisio, Head of the Classic Wheels section for Ruote Borrani.  He wrote back immediately with the order information for exact replacements for the Alfatross, and referred me to Borrani's supplier in the US: A&M Garage in Austin, Texas.  To make a short story even shorter, the order process was as seamless as it was painless and the new spinners arrived THIS AFTERNOON! 

A new spinner from Borrani

The new spinners are perfect replacements.  I will keep the old ones because they are original, but they are now just paperweights.  There are a couple of things worth pointing out in the Wheel Saga: First, the cost of sub-contracted wheel restoration is not out-of-sight, as I had feared.  The wheels and spinners together cost $3,965. The real drag was the time it took!  Point Two: Modern interest in old cars like the Alfatross enabled the revival of Borrani and the availability of authentic replacement parts.  And the Internet made it possible to find Borrani and parts I needed in a matter of minutes.  FedEx got the parts to me almost instantaneously.  Somehow, at least in this case, things that used to hold up progress for months--like exact part identificaion, customs, currency exchange, check clearing, translations and the like--just weren't there anymore.

And get this--Sr. Bosisio had a look at this blog, liked what he saw, and wrote back: "If you happen to be around Milan, please call me I will be more than happy to guide you thru the Alfa Museum and take you for a visit over to the Zagato facility."

How's THAT for service!

Building the Rotisserie (Post # 11)

The main task right now is getting the Alfatross up on the rotisserie so we can clean the the bottom and interior and soda blast the body.  While we're at it, we'll check for rust problems on the frame, dents in the floor pan, and for electrolytic corrosion of the aluminum body due to dissimilar metals being in contact. 

The good news is that Dave already has both the rotisserie, the commercial soda blaster, and a heap of experience acquired not only from running Auto Right Collision Repair in Santa Fe, but also from building the "HelCamino," a 1972 El Camino frame-off resto-mod project just completed last year.

Powder-coated and plated frame and running gear of Dave's last project, the Hel Camino . . .

. . . which has already accumulated a pile of plaques and shelf of trophies!

I had hoped to have the Alfatross up on the rotisserie by now, but the re-engineering, cutting and welding associated with modifying  the rotisserie to suit this application is taking longer than anticipated.  As I mentioned before we are going to suspend the car from a 17 ft. long section of steel pipe run through the body instead of the normal technique of attaching to the underside of the frame.  This means that we have to build brackets on top of the frame inside the body and align them with each other, the trunk opening, and the grill opening. 

It also means we have to modify the rotisserie "heads" to receive the ends of the pipe.  It isn't all that difficult, it just takes a lot of measuring, cutting, welding, and drilling.  The simple design we came up with is  U-shaped brackets and sockets that can be bolted to the front faces of the rotisserie heads.  This makes it possible to restore the rotisserie heads to their normal configuration in the future.

Standard rotisserie head before modification.

Dave and I working out the sockets to attach to the rotisserie heads.

Welding one of the sockets to the rotisserie head.

We had to buy a 20 ft joint of oil well "drill stem" for the axle pipe and cut it down to 17 feet.  One thing I can tell you is that drill stem is some of the toughest steel around.  I went through 5 Sawzall blades making just one cut!   It's also pretty darn heavy.  The walls are 1/4 inch thick and I estimate the length we're using weighs more than 150 pounds--much too heavy to use in test-fitting the alignment of the brackets inside the car.  Solution?  Use lightweight PVC pipe for alignment. 

View through the grill: aligning the brackets.

As expected, some more grinding and fitting will be needed before we do final welding on the brackets and bolt them to the frame. 

Back to work . . . .

First Ride, 1968 (Post # 10)

More backstory:
My first ride in the Alfatross was as a passenger.  It was not something to write home about.  To open the door I had to scrutinize the aluminum plate that was where a door handle would normal be, but this thing was flush with the door panel.  Pressing a recessed button at one end raised a lever handle at the other end that you had to pull to unlatch the door.  A mouldy smell wafted out to greet me.The slat-backed faux suede seats were rudimentary and uncomfortable looking.  In between the seats was a tall transmission tunnel topped with a very business-like short chrome gearshift lever.  There was some kind of thick, stained, wool carpeting on the floor, obviously not original equipment.  The aluminum doors closed with an un-reassuring tinny clap.  The crazed Plexiglas windows were practically opaque and the hand crank to wind them down felt unequal to the task.  You didn't need a sales brochure to tell you that the primary directive for the builders of this car was "Keep the weight down." 

The Bueg "Dynometer," some type of accelerometer. 

But the dashboard was gloriously studded with instruments, switches, and cloisonne badges for the Automobile Club Milano, Alfa Romeo Owners Club, and the Rally di Sanremo.  In the center of the dash was a Jaeger chronometer and a "dynometer" was slung under the dash in a special gimble.

The San Remo rally badge mounted on the dash:
evidence of a race history?

The Jaeger Chronometer.  Further evidence of
race history?

The exhaust system was shot, so normal conversation was impossible.  We bombed around on a twisting two-lane country road for an hour or so.   Surprisingly, the deep, but skimpy bucket seat became more comfortable.  I don't remember much about that first ride except that it was exhilarating  and disappointing at the same time.   

Blast from the Past (Post # 09)

A few days ago, in response to something I mentioned in a previous post, Peter Marshall sent me four photos of the Alfatross, apparently taken in 1965.  I have been corresponding with Peter in England  since 1981.  He is the go-to guy for reliable information about Alfa Romeo 1900s and has been an inspiration to many of us owners for the last 40 years.

The Alfatross in 1965.  Owner: Pat Braden.  Note peculiar icon painted on front
fender ahead of the door.

There can be no question that this is the Alfatross.  The giveaway is the icon on the front fender just in front of the door.  All other features also match.   The previous owner made a sketch of the icon before repainting the car to preserve a record of it in case it might be important later.  Thank you, Bo! 

These images show that a blog can be a powerful tool.  As a result of a previous postingI now have four photos of the Alfatross that were previously unknown to me.  The photos, shot with a Polaroid camera, are not of the best quality, but that is true of just about all photographs from that period.  Does anyone even remember Polaroid cameras now?   The scans Peter sent me are much clearer than what I can show here. 

Evidently Pat Braden, the owner, took these photos to show the car's condition to prospective buyers.  He was advertising it for sale in Road & Track magazine for $2,250!  It's value had been falling for 10 years--but it still hadn't hit rock bottom!

The Alfatross seen from the rear quarter in 1965. 

The photo of the rear quarter is probably the most important for me because it shows the presence of a rear bumper.  This was removed during the repaint and the holes in the body for its supports were filled in.  Until these photos arrived I always wondered if it had ever had a rear bumper.  Now I know!

The Alfatross interior in 1965.

The interior shot is important to me because it shows that the Jaeger chronometer and various badges are in place on the dash. That proves they were installed some time between 1955 and 1965 and not added later.  The interior is already looking shop-worn.  One of the previous owners must have installed the seat belts--they would not have been original equipment.  There is some kind of carpet on the floor and over the transmission tunnel--original?

The engine room.  Not much to see from this side.  The air cleaner
housing that covers the two dual downdraft Solex P II carbs
probably weighs 25 pounds!

The Rotisserie (Post # 08)

Time to get back to "current events."   I'll continue with the back-story later.

The bottom of a car is not a pretty sight. Especially after years of all-season daily use in inclement weather and the occasional oil leak or two. How do you get all that grunge off, and what is hiding underneath it? While it may be possible to get it off while lying on your back beneath the car with a scraper in one hand and a can of solvent in the other, take it from me, that gets old in a hurry.

A total restoration requires that the bottom of a car as well as the stripped interior and all the little nooks and crannies must be cleaned and inspected for hidden damage like rust spots on the steel chassis and electrolytic corrsion where the steel and aluminum come into contact with each other. A common practice to make this easier is to separate the chassis from the body and treat each individually. But the Alfatross's hand-made aluminum body could not be separated from its steel chassis without cutting it. So the only option is to treat the body and chassis at the same time on a rotisserie.

 Restorers often use a car rotisserie to take the aggravation out of this important, but often neglected aspect of a restoration. In the case of the Alfatross, we took a page from the playbook of the guys at the car museum in Phoenix who did something similar a few years ago. Instead of attaching the rotisserie to the car's frame, which is the standard practice, they fabricated two brackets inside the body and on top of the frame so they could pass an iron pipe straight through the car from the trunk opening to the grille opening. This resulted in much better balance and control of the car during rotation.  

After obtaining excellent engineering drawings of the brackets from Mr. Jean-Marc Freslon we set about making our own brackets for the Alfatross.  The brackets are pretty simple, but we needed fairly heavy wall material--have you checked out the price of steel these days?   They don't give it away, even scrap!




Dave measuring the shock tower bolt pattern spacing.



The front rotisserie shaft bracket in place temporarily before
final welding and bolting to the engine mounts.



Dave's rear rotisserie shaft bracket in place temporarily before
welding on the base plates and bolting them to the tops of
the shock towers.



Looking straight through the car from the trunk to the front grille
with the two 4 in. pipe sleeves in perfectalignment. The rotisserie
pipe shaft, supported by supports at either end, will run through
the sleeves allowing the body and chassis to rotate around it
for easy access to all surfaces inside and out.

We hope to have the Alfatross up on the rotisserie ready to start the cleaning and inspection phase by this time next week--but we're making this up as we go along, so who knows what we'll find? 

Romancing the Stone (Post # 07)

Cousin Bo was older, married, in Law School, and much more worldly-wise than I.  When he saw I was already infatuated with the car he started romancing the stone.  It was built for racing, he said, popping the hood to reveal the engine room.  I was astounded to see that it was hinged on its leading edge instead of the trailing edge.  Bo explained that this was a sophisticated European racing refinement: if the hood latch let go, the hood would stay closed, unlike the hoods on American cars that would fly back against the windshield and ruin your day.

The engine was small by American standards in the 1960s: just four cylinders and about 120 cubic inches  (1975 cc) displacement.  Under a massive air cleaner box on the intake side were two big dual downdraft Solex carburators and a writhing mass of tubular headers on the exhaust side.  In between were the two cast aluminum overhead cam covers.  A wide-mouthed shroud picked up cool air from outside the engine room and ducted it across the exhaust headers.  I noted the presence of two ignition coils, two fan belts driving the generator and water pump, and two air horns.

Engine room, driver's side.

So want to take it for a spin?  Bo asked, knowing I was already hooked.