Under Pressure (Post # 106)

Car guys like to brag about the special performance features of their cars, like a double overhead cam engine, 4:11 rear end, monococque chassis, or variable valve timing. Conversely, when they want to disparage someone else's car they credit it with having "high compression floor mats", "positive traction seat covers", or even a "high performance radiator cap".

Rolls Royce radiator cap. Adrian Brown.

Bentley radiator cap.

Like Rodney Dangerfield, the lowly radiator cap gets no respect. Say what you will about them (many modern cars do not even have them any more!), if your car has one and it isn't working you will soon be in big trouble. But there was a time when the radiator cap virtually defined the car itself.

Letting Off Steam

A radiator is, of course, just as essential as a car's gas tank, battery or its tires. The Alfatross' original radiator needed a new core (the part with all the fins), but the upper and lower tanks and frame were fine. My main concerns were over the curious piston and cylinder device that sits in the center of the header tank, and how to insure it wouldn't leak. I devoted a lot of time and effort to making sure the cylinder and radiator drain plug were water tight, without giving a second thought to the radiator cap. Big mistake.

The piston and cylinder device encased in the radiator header 
tank looked like an ideal place to spring a leak. As
the coolant in the radiator heats up, the fluid in the
cylinder expands an pushes the piston against a lever arm
to open the shutter in front of the radiator. 

During the Arizona Concours the shutter activator mechanism and the radiator drain plug gave no problems, but the radiator cap did not seal at all, allowing the expanding coolant (just water) to overflow.  No damage was done, but it was obvious that this was a problem that had to be addressed. 

Tilting at Windmills

The MityVac radiator pressure tester and its various adapters 
were indispensable for testing and rebuilding the radiator cap.  

The first step was to figure out a way to test how much pressure the cap could contain. I connected a hand-operated MityVac pump to the cap and quickly discovered that the gasket at the bottom of the pump would not hold any pressure at all. At this point I started asking around about how to rebuild a radiator cap. Over and over I heard the same advice: "You can't fix them. Just get a new one!" Yes, that would be the quickest way to solve the problem, and caps that will fit a 1955 Alfa 1900 are readily available. But now I was curious, and unable to resist listening to that dangerous little voice that has led many a well-intentioned tinkerer to tilting at windmills--and a few to solve important problems. Besides, it was the original cap and I wanted to save it if I could. 

It was apparent that the seal at the bottom of the cap, hard and permanently creased after 60 years of being pressed against the radiator neck wasn't doing its job, and would have to be replaced. This led to disassembling the lower part of the cap and discovering just how fiendishly simple it was.

Fiendishly simple.  Left to right: The upper part of the cap with the upper seal, lower seal backing plate,  poppet spring, poppet valve, lower seal, bottom plate.

Disassembled, it looks overly fussy and complicated, the kind of mechanism that results more from a century of slow, incremental trial-and-error development than from careful engineering. My first impression was all I have to do is replace the withered, hardened original lower rubber seal with a softer, thicker one made of silicone that will hold the right amount of pressure. No need to disassemble the upper part of the cap where the upper seal and big spring is. 

But what, exactly, was the right pressure?  I asked around and discovered that there was no strong agreement among experienced authorities, and even the omniscient Web couldn't give me a definitive answer. The Alfa Romeo service manual for 1900s states that the engine is designed to run at a maximum temperature of 220 to 230 degrees F, which would put the coolant well above the boiling point, particularly here where we live at the altitude of 7,000 ft and atmospheric pressure is only about 40% of what it is at sea level. The manual also gives a pressure value of 0.3 kg/cm2.  In the metric system nominal atmospheric pressure at sea level is 1 bar (about 1 kg/cm2), or 14.5 psi. So 0.3 X 14.5 psi = 4.35 psi. That seemed low to me so I ended up setting the pressure a little higher.   
                     

The spring-loaded  poppet valve lets air back into the radiator 
as it cools to equalize with ambient pressure.

The first attempt worked great! Too great, actually. It wouldn't release pressure even at 30 psi! For the second attempt I used a rubber diaphragm from a scuba regulator, which just happened to be the right diameter and thickness for the seal. That worked better and I thought I was through . . . until I realized that a radiator cap has to have a mechanism to let air back into the system as well as letting steam out, which began to explain the presence and configuration of the other four parts of the seal as well as the overly large hole in the center of the lower seal. 

The mechanism in question is a simple poppet valve ("valvola di depressione" in the illustration below from the Alfa service manual). It remains closed when under pressure, but as pressure is reduced it opens to allow pressure inside the radiator to equalize with ambient pressure. 

By now you are probably thinking this is way more than you need to know about radiator caps.  I agree.  No one needs to know any of this if they have a modern car and pay even just cursory attention to its needs. I would guess that 90+% of all drivers have never touched a radiator cap in their lives and have no desire to start now.  Today's humble radiator cap is an example of that rare class of simple yet critical mechanical devices that have been around so long and refined so thoroughly that they are utterly reliable and so maintenance free that they have become invisible--except to carchaeologists!

OK, I didn't solve any important problems, but I did get my original cap working again--eventually--and have a new appreciation for being under pressure!

Radiator cap schematic from the Alfa service and repair manual showing the cap seated within the filler neck of the header tank, closing it off  (a) and in the open position (b), allowing pressure to escape into the filler neck and vent pipe.  Note no. 5, the poppet valve that prevents a vacuum from forming in the cooling system.

4:44 (Post # 105)

Warning! This post is way too long in words and and way too short in imagery but I decided to post it anyway while the details were still fresh so I would not have to rely on memory alone when recalling what it was like to take The Alfatross to her first Concours. 

So what is it really like, taking a car to a concours event for the first time?  It must be fun!  All the excitement, the beautiful setting, the beautiful cars, the beautiful people!  Kind of an exotic weekend vacation just like in the car magazines, right?  And at Scottsdale's uber-luxurious Arizona Biltmore Hotel, too! 

Well . . . not exactly. Not this time, at least.  It was more of a . . . learning experience. The reality was a lot different for The Alfatross and I than for most of the other entrants and attendees, many of whom seemed to be old hands at this.

10 PM, Thursday, January 21st

Having started The Alfatross for the first time in 46 years, and driven all of about 60 feet from the back of The Shed to the end of the concrete slab, beyond which lay only ice and snow, all we knew for certain was that it would engage first gear, the clutch worked, and the brakes would stop you . . . eventually (see video below). The engine started easily, but ran much too rich because it was tuned for an elevation that was about 6,000 ft lower than Santa Fe. To be completely honest, I was hoping that it wouldn't run and we could use that as a perfectly valid reason for being a "no-show" at the Arizona Concours d'Elegance. But The Alfatross had other ideas!

4:30 AM Friday, January 22nd

I'm up before the 5:00 alarm has a chance to wake me. The plan is for Dave, Toni, and I to meet at The Shed at 6:30 to start loading The Alfatross in its trailer. It's cold as Hell and still dark. That's good, because it means that the 1,200 ft dirt road from The Shed to the pavement is frozen solid. But there are complications: We're going to use "bonnets" on The Alfatross' tires to hold it securely to steel tracks Dave installed in the trailer, but this is the first time we've used them so they have to be adjusted and set up in advance.  I'm watching the time because we're on a tight schedule and our destination is 500 miles away. We finally get off to a late start at just before 9:00. Toni and Lydia, Dave's wife, will fly down later in the day to join us in Scottsdale.

We didn't.

Dave has driven this route many times.  He gleefully points out the highlights: a billboard commanding drivers to "Eat Here, Get Gas." And another classic "Your Wife is Hot . . . And She's Calling Me!" (an air conditioning company). The big Dodge Ram 2500 eats up the road--and diesel fuel--but a fill-up gets you almost 500 miles, even pulling an enclosed trailer. At the halfway mark the vehicle condition monitoring screen sends a cryptic message to the effect that something is wrong with the engine and it needs immediate attention. We keep going, taking turns at the wheel as the miles and hours go by. 

Tim Marinos went the extra mile to make sure The
Alfatross put her best foot forward .  Eric Hoover.

Our first objective is to rendezvous with Tim Marinos, who did all The Alfatross' paint and bodywork, at the home of a friend of his, Wayne Cooper, in Mesa just East of Scottsdale. This is not Tim's first rodeo and he knows The Alfatross is going to need some considerable primping to be ready for the show field.  

He also knows that Dave and I don't know how to do that to the level necessary for an event like this and, left to our own devices, we would not be capable of showing 2 years of his hard work to best advantage. So he pretty much insisted on coming all the way from Nashville, TN to make sure we didn't drop the ball in the 11th hour. Which is fine with us!  By the time we arrive, late, and drop the car off, we are in no shape to be of use to him anyway. We can't leave the trailer in Wayne's neighborhood or at the Embassy Suites where we're staying, so we tow it back across town through rush-hour traffic to a lot designated for that purpose at the Scottsdale Automotive Museum.

Saturday, January 23rd

By this time my only thought was "OK, one more day to go and then it will all be over--one way or the other." And I didn't care which way. We can't register and pick up our entrant packets until 8:30, so we have a leisurely breakfast at the hotel and drive over to the show venue, the spectacular Arizona Biltmore Hotel. While we get registered and case the joint to see where The Alfatross will be displayed on the field, Toni, smitten by all the swag on display, thoughtfully loads up on Concours items to present to the Car Table Cavalry guys back in Santa Fe who worked so long and hard to get the car ready.

After breakfast it's pedal to the metal again. Tim sends us a list of things we need to pick up for him before we drive out to Mesa. It means several stops. Dave calls around to all the Dodge dealers to find out what the warning message means and discovers we need to replace some parts on the intake system.  We do the shopping first and pick up the trailer last then make the 45 minute trip to Mesa to link up with Tim.

He puts us to work immediately. The main task is to sharpen The Alfatross' "presentation" (car-show speak for its only chance to make a good first impression). Later, as the buffing, scrubbing, and polishing are winding down, I call DeWayne Samuels, who built the engine, to get some carburetor tuning tips. Then we fire her up and hesitantly back out into the cul-de-sac to conduct the first real tests of the engine, clutch, brakes, and transmission. We decide The Alfatross will be OK as long as we don't ask her to go fast, stop quick, or do wheelies. 

After an extensive detailing session with Tim Marinos and a thorough (100 yard!)  road test on the cul-de-sac in front of Wayne's house, the Alfatross is hastily loaded into her trailer for the race back to the Biltmore parking garage to beat the 5:00 closing deadline.  Dave Carrell. 

4:44 PM Saturday, January 23rd

As we pull up to the  parking garage, where we expected to find a line of trailers waiting their turn to unload, we are surprised to find it unoccupied. Are we too late?  Is it closed already?  No, a weary attendant comes out to greet us. With a whole 12 minutes to spare we're the last car to arrive!  By the time we find the part needed to repair the truck, install it, and return the trailer to the Scottsdale Automotive Museum it's late and we've put another 150+ miles on the odometer. 

4:30 AM Sunday, January 24th

Now it's 4:30 AM, the morning of the Arizona Concours and I can't sleep any more so I get up without waking Toni, shower, and put on my work clothes. Dave and I are supposed to meet at 5:30, but he's in the room next door so I hear him when he opens the door at 5:15 and we start loading up. We try to disguise our . . .  anxiety?  excitement? But there's no denying that we're way too awake for the hour.

It's dark and chilly as we make the short trip back to the parking garage where a big crowd is already gathering. With about 100 cars in the show there are at least that many drivers, and a lot of couples, too, so the place is thrumming. Engines are firing up, some with difficulty. Soon the whole garage is filled with eye-burning unburned hydrocarbons and a cacophony of ear-shattering under-muffled exhausts. 

Showtime! We head out of the parking garage for the field.  Feets, don't fail me now!  Dave Carrell. 

The organizers brief us to follow the car in front and look for directions from marshals with flashlights who will usher us to our appointed station on the lawn. I get the impression that it's a tricky route and there could be surprises along the way. The Alfatross starts easily but runs rough and the brake pedal goes almost to the floor before it begins to overcome the car's inertia. As we make our way to the exit through the echo-chamber of the garage I realize that The Alfatross is still running rich and probably making more than its share of both exhaust fumes and entertaining exhaust notes, that she is not going to let me down, and for the first time since leaving Santa Fe I am optimistic that this escapade is going to turn out all right after all.

The trip to the show field snakes up a public road a short distance before it turns into a narrow service alley, cuts across someone's lawn, passes over a tennis court, climbs a flight of stairs, squeezes between two guest houses, turns onto a golf-cart track, crosses over a swimming pool, makes a couple of switch-backs and finally ends with a climb over a plywood ramp to poop out onto the totally enclosed show field.  OK, I could be wrong about crossing a swimming pool--it was dark, my eyes were watering, and the windshield kept fogging up. 

About half way through the journey, really a series of abrupt starts and stops while the cars in front of me grope their way, Dave appears out of the night, much to my relief, to coach The Alfatross and I through the obstacle course. Looking concerned, he tells me we're overheating and wipes the fog off the windshield, but there's nothing to do except press on.  It is with a great sense of relief that we reach our spot, park, shut down the engine and take stock of the situation.

One by one the other cars find their places on the field, engines go silent, an early morning calm settles over the field, and it slowly sinks in that we made it! Such was the surreal beginning of The Alfatross' first public outing. A lot happened after that, too.  After all, the sun wasn't up and the Concours hadn't even started!   

Hot car, cool morning.  Randy Davis.

It was hours to go before the first spectators would arrive so we drivers, owners, and support crews could mingle at out leisure among the great cars, meet and greet and swap stories. Much to my delight the car next to us, a Zagato-bodied 1956 Ferrari, turned out to be shepherded by Dan Allen, a name that should by now be familiar to readers of this blog. After corresponding for years, trading information and parts, we finally got to meet in person! I think Dan and another old friend and Alfa TZ owner, Richard Ballantine, were almost as surprised as I was that The Alfatross made it to the show. I felt no sense of competition between the owners or representatives of any of the other cars in the Zagato class, just a spirit of camaraderie was as uplifting as it was genuine.

Lest anyone misinterpret my intentions in telling this story, the organizers of the Arizona Concours d'Elegance get my highest praise, as do the staff of the Arizona Biltmore. In my opinion they did a superb job. The challenges we had were entirely self-inflicted.  If you've even been a visitor to a concours, concorso, or just plain car show and thought it was exciting, now you know that's nothing compared to what an entrant experiences!  

The Alfatross did surprisingly well at the Arizona Concours--so well that many people got the impression its restoration is complete. From my perspective there is still a lot of work to be done.  Now that the weather up here in Santa Fe is getting better we will soon be able to take it on the road for real-world testing.  There's more to the story yet to come . . . .

Fasten-ating (Post # 104)

Early on the morning of the Arizona Concours d'Ellegance I was talking to some of the other entrants when one asked a seemingly simple question: "What was the hardest part?" I started to say "The front suspension," but no, that was just the most frustrating part. Then I considered the process of stripping and cleaning the body and chassis, but no, that was just the dirtiest part. Finally, spontaneously, I blurted out "writing the damn blog!" That got a good laugh, but as I sat down to do this post that conversation came back to me, and I had time to give it some serious thought.  

So what was the hardest part?  Randy Davis.

The hardest part of the hands-on work was not one of the individual sub-assemblies like "the brakes," or "the wiring harness."  It was--and this time I'm serious--the fasteners.  Just to make sure you know what I mean, I'm talking about the nuts, bolts, washers, screws and other objects that hold the car together.  Every sub-assembly depends on some kind of fasteners, and when you start adding them up, they number in the thousands!  I haven't actually counted yet, but we probably have at least 100 different "types" of fasteners if you consider sheet metal screws and machine screws manufactured in both metric and British Imperial systems, with a multitude of head shapes, shaft diameters, shaft lengths, thread pitches, metalurgical properties, hardnesses, identification codes, and platings . . . and scores of different types of washers!   

By the time we got to final assembly we were sorting through hundreds of different fasteners.

Cleaned, photographed, and bagged Alfatross fastener
sets awaiting installation. 

So what makes fasteners the hardest part of the restoration? Well, consider the urban legend about the guy who took his car apart, carefully identifying each and every fastener as it came off so that he could put each one back in the hole it came out of.  Frankly, I find that hard to believe.  Not impossible, but highly unlikely.  Why? Well, if you just put each fastener into a bag and label it with a number that could be correlated to a map of the car with each fastener hole it would be a monumental undertaking that would greatly increase the amount of time needed for the disassembly phase . . . but that is just the tip of the iceberg.  

Vibratory tumblers for cleaning and polishing fasteners.

When it comes time to reassemble you can't just take them out of the bag and put them back where they came from.  Fasteners have an important job to do, so they need additional attention. Many of them will be rusted, bent, broken. Some cannot be restored and re-used; they must be replaced with an exact replica.  Many others will need "reconditioning" which means mechanical or chemical cleaning, sometimes even re-plating.  
For those readers who have never tried restoring an old car, don't even think about it unless you have a set of machine screw and bolt size gauges, the kind that can measure both fastener diameter and thread spacing. If you're dealing with a mid-1950s Italian car be sure to get both metric and British Imperial gauges.

Cleaning the threads is the worst part. First you have to use your thread gauges to determine if the part was created according to the metric system or the Imperial system. Then you determine the part's nominal diameter and thread pitch. Which can be coarse, fine, or "special." Don't forget that the pitch for Imperial fasteners is defined as the number of threads per inch, while the pitch of metric fasteners is the distance from one thread to the next. Armed with the diameter and thread pitch parameters you run the fastener through the proper die to recondition the threads to make sure it will fit.  Then, of course, you have to do the same thing with the threads in the nut or hole it came out of using the matching tap. Don't forget to use the proper anti-seize, thread-locker, or lubrication before you put the two together, and remember that although the majority of fasteners are right-handed, some are left-handed!

All this assumes that by the time you get to the reassembly stage you kept track of each fastener throughout the disassembly, bagging, cleaning, photography, storage, and tapping and die-ing processes.  

I think we need a 17 mm LOBO bolt with a castellated nut, a heavy beveled washer and a
3/32" stainless cotter pin . . . .

If I had it to do all over again I would certainly pay a lot more attention to fasteners.  It is easy to underestimate their importance at the beginning of a restoration project, but in doing so you make a lot of extra work for yourself in the end.  I have seen amateur "restoration" projects where the restorer just let the original fasteners fall to the ground to be swept up and discarded like so many cigarette butts.  How he expected to put the car back together again I don't know.  Conversely, I have heard of professional restoration companies going to great lengths to make their own replica fasteners to replace original ones too far gone to be reused. 

One area I am still largely ignorant of is "fastener engineering"--Why are there so many different types? Who determines where to use one type vs. another? What do those letters and numbers some screws and bolts have on their heads mean? Where is it appropriate to use castellated nuts instead of regular nuts with lock washers?  When did the Phillips screw head type appear for use in Italian automobiles? Is there any relationship between a bolt's head size or shaft size and the maximum torque it can take? When was the 14 mm hex head bolt and nut combination replaced by 13 mm parts?  

Yes, it's a fasten-ating subject!

Backstory 1 (Post # 103)

From Frontier Soldier: an Enlisted 
Man's Journal.

The Car Table Cavalry

Rewind to 23 days before January 24th, 2016, the day of the Arizona Concours d'Elegance. Trapped by a drop-dead deadline, badly outnumbered by the list of items still unattended to, hopelessly surrounded by the ravages of a brutal winter storm, Tim, Jeff, Dave, The Alfatross, and I were almost ready to bow to the inevitability of becoming a "No Show" when, miraculously, the Car Table Cavalry arrived to save the day.

I've mentioned the Santa Fe Car Table before.  It's just an informal group of car people, mostly men, who get together for lunch every Tuesday. It's a diverse group bonded only by a common interest in cars.  Simple as that. A lot of them know about The Alfatross and have seen it in various stages of dis-assembly. By the end of December the body, chassis, engine, interior and all the other bits and pieces were back at The Shed for the first time in 3 years.  

Among the guys who came to see the car was Terry Morgan.  When he saw the state it was in and learned of our commitment to showing it at a major concours in three weeks time, he realized it was time to call out the Car Table Cavalry. The next morning he showed up with his first recruit, Gerry Strickfaden.

Getting crowded under here!  Toni Carrell.

Tim's work fitting the window and door seals took first priority, so the rest of us concentrated on finishing the trunk and engine bay while the the car was off the lift.  

While Tim makes the door seals Jeff, Terry 
and Gerry work on installing the fuel tank. 

The hard part was recognizing when to stop.  Being congenital nit-pickers our natural inclinations were to spend however long it took to find just the right nut or bolt for a particular application. That's what we had been doing for three years, trying to get every detail right. It quickly became apparent that was our worst enemy and it would definitely defeat us unless we got it under control. Our mantra became "Will it keep us off the field?".  If not, it got the "do later after Concours" reduced priority.

The wiring harness is every car's nervous system, and one of the first things to go back in after cleaning and painting. The Alfatross' harness is very basic, but it has to go in before the dashboard. The hardest part proved to be getting 20+ wires through a tiny hole in the firewall to reach the fuse boxes in the engine bay. The wiring also has to precede installation of the engine. This is one place where we could have used a lot more time.

Terry, in his element.  

Yet Another List!

Weeks before this, realizing that a little advance planning could save a lot of time later, I created a punch list table to keep the restoration on schedule by improving efficiency.  The basic idea was to anticipate all the remaining tasks, place orders for parts and materials well in advance, group tasks according to their systems such as "electrical", "brakes", "steering", "suspension", etc., to make sure nothing was overlooked, estimate how many hours each individual task would take to complete, and figure out the order in which they would have to proceed to eliminate "re-dos".  The list turned out to be less than totally accurate, but it definitely helped.

The secret weapon: page 2 of a 100-item list of tasks to be performed, orders to be placed, priority, type of task, order of assembly, notes, estimated time required, and people involved.

Easy does it! 

The engine bay took a lot of advance planning and work to prepare. The wiring for the starter, generator, voltage regulator, electric horns, air horn compressor and its relay, oil temp and water temp gauges, and fuse boxes had to be laid in first, along with fuel, brake lines and the line to the oil pressure gauge.  The oil filter on the intake side of the engine had to be removed, as did the fan and exhaust headers and engine vibration mount on the exhaust side. Following Dan Allen's instructions we unbolted the transmission from its cradle and tilted it up to mate with the engine. It all went together smoothly (maybe we got lucky?) but it still took a few hours.

Getting the engine installed was a big relief--but would it start and run?  Just as importantly, would the car stop?  We hadn't got to the brakes yet.  And then there was the exhaust system that I bought 25 years ago but never had a chance to test fit. It would need cutting and welding and some kind of hanger system. By this time there was only about a week left before showtime.  

Even with the Car Table Cavalry on our side it was going to be close . . . . 

Engine wranglers Jeff Kramer, Terry Morgan, Tarmo Sutt (new recruit), Gerry Strickfaden, and the author. Toni Carrell.

Eighty Hours (Post # 102)

The Alfatross went to the Arizona Concours d'Elegance with two simple objectives and no expectations. The first objective was just to get to Scottsdale AZ and make it onto the field under its own power to join the other cars in the "Coachwork by Zagato" special class. If we made it that far the next objective was to take advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: get a photo of it in the company of Andrea Zagato, grandson of the man who designed it 61 years ago. The Alfatross had no expectations beyond that. It knew this was its first public appearance in 47 years, that it had no established reputation in the car media and was not associated with a well-known collection or restorer, so it did not expect to be able to compete with the other 11 Zagato bodied cars in its class.  

First objective: make it onto the field.  CHECK!  Photo by Randy Davis.

  

Second objective: get photographed with Andrea Zagato. CHECK! Photo by Randy Davis

With its two objectives finally met, The Alfatross was content and thought it could finally relax, but then the judges appeared!  They were not easy to please. They looked at everything, and The Alfatross knew it was not flawless. 

Consequence of getting onto the field: getting judged.  Photo by Randy Davis.

The judges went away and more time passed.  It turned into a pleasantly warm afternoon. The Alfatross had started to doze off when suddenly the judges were back. They said, "Lift a wiper!" She complied and they placed a ribbon with writing on it underneath, congratulated her, and disappeared again.  

Consequence of getting judged: Third place.  Photo by Randy Davis.

Then Lou Costabile, a producer, came asking questions and shooting video for "My Car Story", a channel on YouTube.  We think he did a great job!

Eighty hours after leaving The Shed in Santa Fe, being trailered the 1,100 mile round-trip to Scottsdale, making its way onto the Arizona Concours d'Elegance field, being driven for the first time in 47 years, and seen by hundreds of appreciative spectators on the field and many more on YouTube, The Alfatross was safely back home once again where the restoration will continue--at a more leisurely pace--for the next several months. The objective of the next round of the restoration will be to make the car fast, reliable, and safe on the open road.

Three of The Alfatross' Support Team members, Don Keith, caretaker, DeWayne Samuels, engine builder, and Tim Marinos, paint and body artist.  Photo by Randy Davis.

Stay tuned, the story is far from over.  With the big push to get The Alfatross to Scottsdale now over there will be more time for blogging! 

Racing to the Concourse (Post # 101)

A phone call from a fellow Zagato bodied car owner last night was a reminder that many of you are wondering what happened to the Alfatross in December. Did it ever make it back home? Is it going to be ready for the January 24 show at the Scottsdale Concourse d'Elegance? Because Don has nearly moved into his workshop full time, he asked me to "fill in" and "fill you in." But who is "me" you might be asking. Let me introduce (or reintroduce) myself. I'm Toni Carrell, Don's wife and enthusiastic supporter of this reincarnation of the amazing Alfatross.
 

Trapped in Amarillo

To get right to it, coming back from Paul Russell’s trim shop in Essex, Massachusetts, the Alfatross was trapped in Amarillo until Monday, December 28. The excellent driving team of Michael and Chloe Compton  from Reliable Carriers rolled into Santa Fe around 9:30 am. The storm that stopped them wasn’t snowmageddon, but it shut down roads from Amarillo to Albuquerque and the delay put a real dent in the schedule. 

Chloe and Michael Compton are truly a Reliable Team!

It was with a huge sense of relief that we transferred the Alfatross into its personal trailer to bring her back to Don’s workshop. Did I mention that we live down a long dirt road? Did I mention that it was snow-packed and icy? Dave Carrell (my son) is a master trailer wrangler and even with the snow handicap he was able to maneuver the trailer right up to the workshop door. The Alfatross was home!

Tim Tackles the Trim and …

Tim Marinos flew in on January 1 to continue the job of installing the dash, glove box, polished aluminum trim, Plexiglas windows, wind deflectors, weather-stripping, door and window hardware, adjusting the doors and quarter windows. Don and Tim put in 10 hard long days and each day ended with a noticeable difference in the Alfatross and her presentation, which is up by at least 100!

The Car Table Team to the Rescue

Dave installing the headlights and fog lights.

The long list of things that were done since December 28, beyond what Tim did, includes getting the engine and all of its associated bits and pieces (can you tell I know nothing about car engines?) reinstalled. Pumps, generators, reservoirs of various descriptions, the radiator, brakes and brake lines, the exhaust system, heat shields, wiring, dashboard gauges, lights and switches, suspension system, rear springs, headlights, fog lights, the battery and its box, the Automobile Club of Torino and the Sanremo rally badges all are emerging from hibernation and returning to their proper places for the first time in decades.

Luckily we’ve had the help of several car table volunteers; Terry Morgan, Gerry Strickfaden, Jeff Kramer, Tarvo Sutt, Jeff Robison, and my son Dave have gone above and beyond. Without this amazing team and their combined knowledge, there’s no way we could get it finished.

The car table team plus Don on the floor! L-R Tarmo, Gerry, Jeff and Terry.

The Alfatross is Purring

Don is a hands on guy!

Don will undoubtedly do a number of blogs to fill in all of the details of the installation successes and challenges since the Alfatross came home. We are less than 48 hours from lift-off very early on Friday morning to make the nearly 500 mile trek to Phoenix and there’s still a lot to do. But for now, at least you know that the Alfatross is on track to make her debut at the Arizona Concours. We hope the she has a chance to meet Andrea Zagato, the grandson of her designer, Ugo. 

Suddenly, as I sit here writing, I can hear the engine being started and a huge sigh of relief. It’s the first time in more than 30 years that the engine is back in the Alftross and that sigh of relief came from the Alftross herself!

L-R: Jeff Kramer, Terry Morgan and Gerry Strickfaden.

Or maybe it was a purr? 

Stand by for more photos and more blogs.

Christmas Comes Early (Post # 100)

After an aerospace quality rebuild and numerous runs on the dyno, DeWayne pronounced the engine "good to go" last weekend. Dave and Jim Angel threw themselves into the breach to make the marathon round-trip drive from Santa Fe to Scottsdale (950 miles) in 18 hours to pick it up while I continued to putter at The Shed. I had an "Igor, you idiot!  You got the wrong brain!" moment of despair when I saw the bright red crate in the bed of Dave's truck was labeled "PORSCHE 4-CAM." 

E Pluribus Unum

"Out of Many, One" Just consider for a moment that we blithely use the word "engine" to describe something with hundreds or thousands of parts, all working harmoniously together to make a confined space self-propelled--an "automobile". Ever wonder how many parts are in an engine? Of course not! That's not a question that would occur to anyone in their right mind. Well I asked myself that very question (what does that tell you about me?) and realized I didn't know either, although I've had to account for and shepherd all of them through the restoration process ever since the engine came out of the car in about 1981. Trust me, it's more than you think, even for a relatively small, 4-cylinder, 2-liter motor like The Alfatross'--which just came back in one piece after a 3 1/2 year stint in Scottsdale, AZ at the Samuels Speed Technologies Engine Spa.  It left The Shed in boxes and bags of individual parts, but now it is whole again and enlivened.  Just listen . . .

The engine's "face".  DeWayne took great pains to use all the 
original parts and to maintain the engine's original outward 
appearance with the proper paint and finishes on the steel 
and aluminum fixtures, proper hoses and hose clamps, wiring, etc. 

Authenticity

Car collectors are very concerned about the connection a car has with its engine. They go to great lengths to ascertain whether a car still has its original engine or an identical--but not original--engine, or some other engine altogether. Sounds simple, but there are lot of potential complications. Cars with race history often go through more than one engine in their lifetime, but no one holds that against them.  I am mentioning all this now because I want to firmly establish that The Alfatross has its original engine.

The serial number of The Alfatross' engine matches the number Alfa Romeo's records show for chassis AR 1900C 02016. The "1308" refers to the type, a 1975 cc engine installed only in Super Sprint chassis.

   

The fine finishes on the original Solex carbs, fasteners, intake manifold and fuel pump.

The Exhaust side, headers removed for shipping.

The vertical oil filter canister is a hallmark characteristic of the 1308 SS engine.

The original Bosch starter, broken before I got the car in 1969, relegated ignominiously to a box in the trunk,  rescued, rebuilt, and now back where it belongs.

Slip-Slidin' Away

This is the 100th post to this blog since it began on January 1, 2013. With only another week left, 2015 is slip-slidin' away--in more ways than one!  I'm looking out the window as a two-day blizzard rolls across Santa Fe and eastern New Mexico.  The Alfatross was scheduled to arrive in Santa Fe at 8 AM this morning, but now--with the 350 mile stretch of Interstate highways between The Shed and where the Alfatross' body sits shivering in a Reliable Carriers transporter somewhere around Amarillo, waiting for a break in the weather--maybe tomorrow?