Long and Winding Road Part 3 (Post #170)

Is the Long and Winding Road Coming to an End?  

In less than 2 weeks The Alfatross will be on the show field at the 2023 Arizona Concours d'Elegance, in the "Sports Cars 1948-1960" class. At present, we are busy with last minute inspecting, cleaning, polishing, fidgeting over minor details and looking forward to mingling with serious car people, sharing The Alfatross' stories, and learning theirs. Among the other cars on display will be a close relative of The Alfatross, the fantastically swoopy, much celebrated 1953 Bertone Alfa Romeo known as BAT 5. If it is entered in the same class as The Alfatross, perhaps they will be meeting each other for the first time! 

This will be the 3rd time The Alfatross has entered a proper concours. Part of the reason for doing so now is to give her more public exposure along with unveiling the 2-minute video below, which we created to encapsulate the last 52 years of our relationship. 

. . . Or Just Beginning?

The Alfatross experienced her 67th birthday some time in 2022. I remember having one of those myself even longer ago, so I know what that feels like. The difference is I'm getting older every day, but (largely thanks to my efforts) she keeps getting younger. Five of her previous 6 owners are deceased and there is every reason to believe that she will survive me, too. 

People often ask "Won't it be difficult to part with your car after all this time?" The Alfatross has been with me "for better or for worse" most of my life  The most important consideration at this point is not her monetary valuation, but rather how she will be appreciated and treated in the future by her next "stewards" and what excellent adventures they will enjoy together. 

The Long and Winding Road, Part 2 (Post #169)

Peregrinations of The Alfatross ca. 1960-2022

Hit the Road (1971-1978)

One of the Alfatross’ brake lines split almost immediately and I had no idea how to make my own.  From that point on, we were gypsies. I don’t remember how I got it from Chapel Hill to Hendersonville, NC, 250 miles away, but it certainly wasn’t under its own power. My parents allowed me to store it in their garage while I figured out my next move, but made clear it was only a temporary arrangement. Years passed. Eventually I installed  a tow hitch on my 1973 VW bus, made a tow bar frame to fit the Alfa’s front bumper mounts, disconnected the drive shaft, bought new tires, and headed west for College Station, TX, a little over 1,000 miles away. It was the first of a series of such ridiculously risky, long, open road hauls made out of desperation. 

To infinity and beyond!

The Road to Hell Is Paved with (Misguided, Ridiculously Optimistic) Good Intentions (1978—1993)

At university in Texas, I was fortunate to rent a small house with a garage just large enough to store the Alfa, but even so, it spent part of its time outside on the driveway when displaced by other projects. It was during the more than 10 years we lived there together that The Alfatross received her name. A visitor stopped by while I was working on it and innocently observed that someone in my low socio-economic station of life would be better off without such an Alfatross around my neck. 

Cocooned like a butterfly chrysalis

The next move was from College Station to Dallas, TX, in 1990.  This time, while towing The Alfatross very slowly with the VW bus, I resolved to either get serious about making it drivable or getting rid of it altogether. I got in touch with Martin Swig, Keith Martin, Peter Marshall, Hans Joseffson, and other authorities, all of whom impressed on me The Alfatross' rarity and historical importance. When a local exotic car dealer offered to trade a used Ferrari for it, I gained new respect for The Alfatross as an investment instead of just my personal cross to bear. 

The Alfatross was in stasis, marking time in College Station and Dallas. The next move was to Corpus Christi, TX, located on the Gulf of Mexico at the same latitude as Tampa, Florida: hot, humid and not an ideal place to keep an old car, but I had a little more time, money, and space to work on The Alfatross and her stable-mate, a 1973 Porsche 911E Targa. Still under the mistaken impression that that I could do most of the restoration myself, with the exception of paint, bodywork and the engine, I began to experiment with sub-contracting. During the almost 20 years we were there, a recurrent concern was hurricanes. Although evacuation orders were not uncommon and The Alfatross’ garage was only 15 ft. above sea level, we always opted to stay. It was a relief when the opportunity to move to Santa Fe, New Mexico, presented itself. At an elevation of 7,000 feet and an average rainfall of 15 inches, its natural environment is much more stable. 

The Road to Enlightenment Runs Through Tunnels of Darkness, Ending at the Gates of Harsh Reality (2008—2016)

For this move, I loaded The Alfatross into the back of a U-Haul truck and chauffeured her to her new purpose-built home, “The Shed”, 1,000 miles away and far from natural disasters. Here we finally got serious about her restoration. By this time I had come to grips with the realization that restoration of The Alfatross to her original glory was going to take a lot of time, space, specialized equipment, connections with restoration professionals, and money. Lots and lots of money . . . 

Oh, the indignity of it!

Some other considerations were dawning on me too. The Alfatross was more than just another old car that needed a bit of sprucing up. I wanted to restore it to its original condition, but keep intact the "personality" it had acquired over its lifetime. 

Sorting out a problem late at night at The Shed, with coyotes howling outside in the darkness, my original sense of purpose started to waver as The Road entered one of the Tunnels of Darkness. When the restoration is finished, what comes next?  At some point The Alfatross will need a new steward. 

Once I complete the empathetic restoration of The Alfatross, my part in its life would be finished, except for making sure its next steward is the kind of person who will take care of it responsibly in keeping with its uniqueness. Letting it go to the highest bidder—a stranger, maybe even a Russian oligarch with 300 other cars in their collection—would not be a satisfying outcome. Picking your car’s next steward is a noble aspiration, but how do you make that work?  

I can think of only one precedent—but it’s a BIG one and it happened just a few months ago: An unnamed private collector bought at auction a special 1955 Mercedes Benz 300 SLR, known as the Uhlenhaut Coupe, for $135 million EUR. It was not the price tag or legendary car that got my attention.  It was the fact that MB was able to specify a list of conditions the buyer had to agree to before they would part with the car. MB picked the buyer, not the other way around!

 

The Ulenhaut MB 300 SLR

Was the Road Not Taken the One That Should Have Been? (2016—2023)

I try not to think too much about the roads not taken over the last 52 years, like opportunities to sell or trade the car for something else, or let someone else do the restoration while I just wrote the checks, or even when to call it finished. Sure, there were ruts in the road, dead-ends, blind curves, bridges washed out and parking tickets, but for the most part the roads we did take were good enough.

The Long and Winding Road (Post #168)

Bo Bricklemyer poses with wife and car in 1966.

Roads and cars have a “which came first, chicken-or-egg?” relationship. You can’t have cars without roads, and there is no need for roads without cars. Either way, The Alfatross’ journey over the last 67 years involved a lot of different roads physically, figuratively, and philosophically. Reflecting on this, I began to think about how it ended up in Santa Fe. It was a Long and Winding Road indeed.

Rode Hard and Put Away Wet (1955-1969)

A racing cockpit if ever I did see one!

By the time I came into its ownership, The Alfatross already had six previous owners and was just a 14 year-old used exotic sports car. 

Badges and "2000SSZ" painted on trunk lid.

Cousin Bo Bricklemyer, the car’s 6^th owner, and I ended up as students at the same university in North Carolina in 1969. When he offered me the car, it was unlike anything I had ever seen before: that svelte body, all the toggle switches and big, round instrument faces, the stick shift and 5-speed trans between those bucket seats--a car built to race! A long-time reader of Sports Car Graphic and Hot Rod Magazine, I was smitten, but at the same time I realized it was highly impractical. On the other hand, I already had a car for reliable transportation so it would just be a question of where to keep it. Sure, it had some deferred maintenance issues, but surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to revive something built with 1950s technology.

My previous cars were used, too, but I never wondered about who their previous owners were or where they had been. Other than its sketchy ownership trail, those first 14 years of the car’s life before I first laid eyes on it are largely undocumented. Where had it been, what had it done—and what had been done to it? 

The engine bay was dusty, but everything was in place.

Fortunately, Bo included in the purchase contact information for Pat Braden, the car's 5th owner and  well-known Alfa aficionado. Pat was aware of its other previous owners, some of whom added their curious personal touches such as the hand-painted triangular logos on the front fenders. The trunk lid was embellished with “2000SSZ” unprofessionally scrawled in script and a large “Alfa Romeo Owners Club badge obviously added by a US owner. In the cabin the dash carried Italian “San Remo” and “Automobile Club Milano” badges. 

Intriguingly, it also had a floor shifter for its 5-speed transmission, two coils including a Magneti Marelli SK5 high performance unit, bespoke brake reservoir, wood-rim Nardi steering wheel, Jaeger rally chronometer, Burg DynoMeter and air horn—all accessories associated with a racing history. but did it really have one? At some point I would have to look into that.

Obviously, a sophomore in college needs a used-up exotic car like a Volkswagen bus needs a trailer hitch (I had that too!). What  did I think I going to do with it? It was a case of the Yellow Brick Road Syndrome: “a path believed to lead to success or adventure”.

To be continued . . . .

Solex is French for "Don't Touch It!" (Post #167)

The Alfatross' pair of Solex 40 P II carburetors.

 

The Alfatross came with a pair of dual downdraft 40 P II Solex carbs. I read somewhere that carburetor is a French word meaning “Don’t touch it!” Solex is a French word too, and some say it has the same meaning. The 40 P II model was introduced in 1952, at which time it was being made in Germany. So the Alfatross was fitted in Italy with carbs designed in France but manufactured in Germany. 

 

A Solex 40 P II carb on a Porsche 550 Spyder.

  

 

In the 1950s they were the carbs to have, appearing on such high-performance vehicles as the Porsche 550 Spyder.  But that was then and this is now. Carburetors are as dead as Disco and sadly, not a lot of people know how to work on them anymore. It is an obsolete technology familiar only to obsolete Old Guy tuners who are also fading away. Young Guy tuners with their laptops and apps are clueless. 

 

 

 

 

 

An original VéloSoleX.

It helps to have PhDs in fluid dynamics, materials, and engineering!

Solex has a long and distinguished history. Co-founders Maurice Goudard and Marcel Mennesson, both of whom are unknown to Wikipedia, created the company in 1905. The company’s first product was a primitive (by modern standards) motorized bicycle they called VéloSoleX. Making carburetors later became their specialty. In any case, The Alfatross’ Solexes were the product of half a century of mechanical and fluid dynamics evolution and refinement. The good news is that Solex carbs and parts are or were manufactured under license over the decades by many companies in many countries. The bad news is that they seem to have been in a constant state of evolution so there are many subtle variations of the same model.

 

 

 

 

 

That leaves The Alfatross and me to work things out together. I noticed that a number of The Alfatross’ siblings have been treated to more modern carburetor “upgrades” such as downdraft and sidedraft Webers, and after dealing with The Alfatross’ pair, I can understand why. 

 

Each carb has about 125 parts, all of which are necessary for it to mix air and fuel under a variety of different ambient and operating conditions. It is no small accomplishment to get all the adjustments on both carburetors set properly so that they work together. But when the environment changes drastically, so do the settings.

The carbs were initially adjusted to run well in Scottsdale, AZ at an altitude of about 350 meters (1,200 ft). Here in Santa Fe, the highest capitol city in the US, the elevation is 2,200 meters (7,200 ft), so readjustment, including changing idle and main jets, is necessary. 

 

 

 

 

Original injectors exposed.

 

 

 

 

 

After determining that the fuel pumps were providing about 3 psi of pressure and the fuel lines and filters were clear, I started looking at the carburetors themselves. One problem was immediately obvious: while the accelerator pump's injectors on the rear carb were working well, the injector streams on the front carb were weak. Adjusting the linkage on the front pump had no visible effect. 

 

 

 

 

Original injector and ball valve.

 

While disassembling both pumps, cleaning them, and replacing the gaskets, I tackled the injectors and immediately hit a snag. During the disassembly process   the ball that serves as a check valve to prevent the gas already in the injector from draining back into the bowl popped out onto the floor and vanished as if teleported to a parallel universe. If this sounds like an excuse for not conducting a thorough search, try looking for a 3mm clear plastic, extremely bouncy, ball on the floor of a typical garage floor strewn with dust bunnies and other tiny debris. When you lose something on the floor that can't be seen or felt or picked up with a magnet, your last resort is to look for another one on the internet. 

Original injector (left) with new version.

 

 

 

 

Some material filing necessary!

Much to my surprise I found a site on eBay offering replacement injectors in a set of 4! When the jets arrived and I compared them with the originals, I discovered a number of minor differences: The blocks holding the injectors to the carb bodies were slightly longer than the originals but would fit after filing some material off the block. No big deal. The balls inside the lower part of the original injectors were removable, probably so the tubes could be cleaned, but the sealed one-way valves in the new design seem to be an improvement--at least it lessens the probability of losing the ball! Another difference is that the original injector orifices were 0.35mm, but the new ones are 0.40mm. Will that make a difference? I hope not, but we will soon see! 

The Solex Saga continues . . . .

 

 

What's in YOUR Junk Boxes? (Post # 166)

Exhaust ports are finally installed in the overhead door just in time for winter.

It's February 2nd and winter is making itself felt. Winters can be long up here in the mountains of northern New Mexico. This year is turning out to be relatively mild so far, but snow has been on the ground for the last several weeks and February is usually the coldest month. Over the years I have put a lot of effort into making The Shed a comfortable place to work no matter what the weather conditions, and that has paid off. Last week I completed a project that has been on the list for a long time but finally reached the top of the priority list: making it possible to run The Alfatross indoors by venting the exhaust through sealed ports in the overhead door. The project was made a little more complicated by the small diameter of The Alfatross' dual tailpipes.

Mating the exhaust hoses to The Alfatross' tailpipes.

The first task was to locate small diameter flexible exhaust hoses that could be mated to The Alfatross' tailpipes at one end and whatever I could cobble together at the door. When my on-line search for a "plug and play" solution was fruitless I turned to my junk boxes for inspiration and was immediately rewarded. 

Steel materials junk box.

 

 

Adapting tailpipe to exhaust hose.

The OD of The Alfatross' pipes is 42.34mm but the ID of the flexible hose, at 50.8mm, is too large, so I needed an adapter. My junk box for steel items coughed up a pair of short chrome exhaust tips exactly the right OD to fit the ID of the hose and almost exactly right to fit over The Alfatross' tailpipes. The junk box for gasket and seal materials  delivered 0.85mm strips of material that not only sealed the tiny gap between the tips and tailpipes, but also prevented the chrome tips from scratching the tailpipes.

The 4 piece PVC door penetration and cap.

At the door end of the exhaust hoses I needed something with an ID that would seal tightly with the hoses and an OD that would seal with the door--and mate with some kind of plug that would close it off when not in use. For this I turned to my PVC junk box and discovered that all my problems could be solved by cutting 60mm holes through the insulated door and sandwiching  lengths of 2" schedule 40 PVC pipe between 2" PVC couplings. The hoses fits snugly inside the interior couplings ID's and the exterior couplings hold the assemblies tightly in place. A cap with a wide flange seals them off when not in use.

Pleased with myself for figuring out how to solve this problem, I quickly bored holes in the insulated overhead door and installed the vents. When I operated the door I was relieved to see that the exterior PVC couplings cleared the top of the door opening . . . but dismayed when the door reversed itself because I mounted them in the path of the safety light beam! It was easy enough to correct by drilling new holes higher up on the door and making plates to cover the original holes, but what a rookie mistake!

 

 

 

 

LM-2 fuel/air sensor bung

 It wasn't long before I realized that I would not be able to use the LM-2 fuel/air analyzer's portable sensor with this arrangement and would have to modify one of the chrome pipe tips to install the sensor bung. Another easy fix, but I should have thought of that earlier too. 

 

 

I did not want to challenge my rudimentary welding skills by trying to mate the heavy iron bung onto the very thin steel tip, so I drilled a hole in the tip, ground a saddle shape into the end of the bung and secured it in place with JB Weld's Extreme Heat formula.

Interior aspect

 

Exterior aspect

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, what's next on the priority list?  Oh yeah--back to work on the car: Solex carburetor tuning, Zagato family matters, addressing oil leaks, historical research, radiator overflow tank installation, road worthiness testing, concours participation, preparing for sale . . . .

Slaying Dragons (Post #165)

 

Through no fault of its own, The Alfatross Blog has been sorely neglected over the last 6 months. No, Covid 19 is not the culprit. It was "Car Restorer’s Block". Every time I sat down to write another post I thought I really should be physically working on the car. Consequently, although work on The Alfatross herself has continued apace, reporting the problems and progress has not. Mea culpa.

Over the last year or more The Alfatross has confronted me with a series of dragons to slay: radiator leaks, exhaust system originality issues and insulation modifications, defective starters, erratic fuel pumps, carburetor jetting, instrument calibration—and that’s just the big ones. With 99% of the restoration behind us, the current problem is the engine’s refusal to transition from idle to load. 

FISPA mechanical fuel pump schematic.

In my last post back in June (Post #164) I was trying to solve what seemed to be a fuel supply problem. The Alfatross has two fuel pumps, an electric SU pump near the fuel tank and a FISPA mechanical pump operated by a cam on the crankshaft.  A toggle switch under the dash allows the driver to run the electric pump before starting the engine to make sure that the fuel line is full. It can be switched off as soon as the engine is running, leaving the mechanical pump to take care of normal running. A pivot axle in the FISPA mechanical fuel pump had worked its way loose, rendering the pump inoperable. The fix was successful, but the mechanical pump still could not supply sufficient fuel pressure to keep the engine running after starting.

Location of the mechanical fuel pump with lever arm on its cam.

I became suspicious that the original SU electrical fuel pump, restored about 12 years ago, might not be up to the task, so I removed, disassembled, and bench tested it, but could find no obvious problems. I went to the Moss Motors web site and discovered that SU still makes the same model pump, almost identical to the original. I ordered one and it arrived in less than a week!  So much for the difficulty of locating parts for 62 year-old imported cars!

 

The new SU pump from Moss Motors is virtually identical to the original (left).

The new SU pump produced just under 3 psi.

I managed to test the new pump’s pressure by patching a pressure gauge onto the mechanical pump’s outlet port and discovered that the electrical pump makes just under 3 psi, which should be sufficient to supply fuel even without the mechanical one. Then I tried turning over the engine with just the starter to run the mechanical pump by itself, but the needle on the pressure gauge never even twitched. I concluded that although the mechanical pump was not participating in supplying fuel under pressure, at least it wasn't impeding it. But why wasn't it working correctly?

Then I ran across a paragraph in the original Alfa 1900 Repair Manual (in Italian) stating the importance of coordinating the placement of the pump’s lever arm on the cam in order to obtain the maximum travel of the diaphragm and increased fuel supply.

Translation:"When manipulating the lever, it is advisable to bring the control eccentric of the pump in a suitable position, that is, with the lowest part in contact with the end of the lever 4, (referring to the drawing above) in order to obtain the maximum travel of the diaphragm and therefore a faster filling of the carburetor float bowl." 

 

Could that be why the mechanical pump isn't producing pressure? Is it even really necessary? There is no way you can see what position the cam is in because it is completely enclosed inside the engine block. But no matter what position the cam is in initially, with each revolution it moves the lever arm through its entire range—so what difference does it make? Let sleeping dragons lie.

OK. So maybe the Mechanical Fuel Pump Dragon wasn't actually slain, but at least he slunk back into his cave and I can move on. Now that I know the electric fuel pump is supplying sufficient pressure even without the mechanical pump, I can get on to examining and resetting the fuel metering elements of the carburetors, particularly the jets and accelerator pumps. 

The cam that operates the pump seen through the pump port in the block.