The title of this blog is correct, and poignant. Funny Cars also don’t have doors, and if I hear one more joke about them not having wheels on the roof I think I’ll lose it. Fact of the matter is I’m glad we don’t run carbs, because for some reason lately whenever I see one I feel compelled to disassemble it. After my “victory” on my Vulcan 1500 induction devices, my confidence has been soaring. I’ve always been pretty good with a Holley (not to be confused with the Christmas “Holly,” or the racer “Hawley”), but never did I feel the desire (or self-assurance) to dive into the smaller motorcycle varieties. I suppose necessity is the mother of invention (who exactly is the father?), and desperation must be the step-father of many screw-ups, and I am talking from experience. Lots of experience … lots of screw-ups. But I digress …

St. Louis stunk. Not literally, just how it ended for us. Friday it got cold, then it got wet, then it got postponed. Down to two qualifying runs (which has happened more this year than we’re used to), we spun in the first session and still ended up 14th after shutting off at 275 feet. One of the plusses of having only 16 cars entered is you know that you’re going to be in the show once you stage successfully in qualifying. Second session we had to run at the front of the pack (the final qualifying run order is the reverse of each driver’s qualifying position up to that point, with the highest ranked cars running at the back of the pack) due to our aforementioned tire-smoker. We ran a much-improved 4.17 at 299.80, which at the time moved us to fourth. The downside about running up front is that the remainder of the cars can watch and tune off of your run, and by the time the session was over we were down to ninth place. The track was very tricky until enough rubber was laid down by later in the day Sunday (tire spin once off of the concrete pad), and our qualifying speed was the best until final eliminations.

Friday night I did get to go out to dinner with several of the guys on the crew, and we went to one of those Japanese restaurants where they cook the food right in front of you. Apparently “sake bombs” are now the new rage, so I did one with the boys. That’s right … ONE. Okay, I did have a Mai Tai with dinner, but that was it. The guys all partook of “sake shooters,” which is where the cook has a bottle that looks eerily similar to our priming bottle for starting the car, only this one isn’t filled with gasoline, but straight sake. You then have to hold your mouth open while he shoots sake across the table, and you have to swallow as much as possible without spilling. Comical, yes, but not my bag. Being as that I had to drive a 300-mph car the next day, I respectfully declined, all 15 times that I was asked. Let me just say that “my boys” did a number on that bottle … and the next bottle. Then Brian decided to bribe the hostess to take down one of the big masks off the wall so he could model it. I swear I have photos on my Blackberry, and if I ever can figure out how to use the damn thing I’ll forward them to my e-mail to show you guys. It was funny!

Saturday night I had dinner with the birthday boy, the one-and-only “Stat Guy,” Lewis Bloom. He’s holding up remarkably well for a 50-year-old, and he swears there’s no coloring going on with his hair. Must be all of that surfing that keeps him looking young. We were joined by Matt Polito (Lewis and Matt did the photography at our wedding), Bret Kepner, Kevin McKenna, and Kelly Wade. Kevin and Kelly both write for National DRAGSTER, and Kevin and I have been friends since I began driving Top Fuel in 2005. Between Bret, Lewis, Kevin and me, I’m not sure there’s a drag race trivia question that we couldn’t answer. If not, I have Bob Frey on speed-dial and Phil Burgess as my backup. Kepner does TV commentary for Inside Drag Racing and is compiling data on EVERY dragstrip that has ever existed. His numbers are pretty impressive, and he’s even ventured outside the U.S. and North America to further astound us all. Quite an impressive group to hang out with for the evening, though I still think my crew could drink them under the table!

Sunday was a short day for us as we smoked the tires against Force in the first round. It was our second loss of the year in the opening round, and we are still hanging tough in the points. However, we really need to start qualifying higher, not just for pairings and lane choice, but for points. A good example would be that right now we are tied for fourth with Ashley Force Hood, yet we have one more round win than her. That means she has made up 20 points on us in qualifying, which is huge. But, like I’ve said many times in our pre-race press releases, we’re not a great car on Friday or Saturday, but we do know how to get the job done on Sunday! By the way, congrats to Del Worsham and their entire crew for getting their first win with the new team. I know that has to be a great feeling for all of them, and Del, Aaron, AJ and the guys deserved it. That means we already have had five different winners, and I think the potential this year again is huge. Wilkerson, Force, Neff, Hagan, Hight, Cruz and Tony P. all should factor into the win column this year, and Toliver and Arend also know their way into the winner’s circle.

Jayne Tasca (wife of Bob II) sent me these two photos from Atlanta. We just happened to pull into the parking lot about the same time in the morning, and struck up a conversation right by the rental cars. After about five minutes Bob noticed that I was driving a Ford, and boy did he let me have it. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes later, right before we all were going to walk into the track, that I noticed his hypocrisy. Seems “Mr. Ford,” not unlike me, was also renting the “competition’s” brand, as the front emblem on his rental product attests. Let’s just all keep this amongst ourselves.

Last blog I mentioned that our “budget bathroom remodel” project went well in bath #1, and not so good in #2 (please don’t confuse the terms “#1” and “#2”; I am simply assigning numbers to each separate room to avoid confusion). Seems that water damage necessitated removing lots more than originally planned, and Jo and Manny (not to be confused with “Manny, Moe, and Jack” or “Larry, Moe, and Curly” or “Porthos, Athos, and Aramis.” My apologies to d'Artagnan fans worldwide) wound up replacing much of the sub-floor. When I say “much”, the room is only about 42 square feet, so the financial hit shouldn’t be too bad (famous last words). I feel bad for Jo, who really is doing an outstanding job and has been very friendly price-wise on all the extra work and repairs. If we had extra room in the house I think he’d rent, as he’s been here far longer than either of us anticipated. I just checked up on him, and he’s standing in the shower, but the floor is up to his waist. Yeah, we’re replacing a lot of stuff.

 

I haven’t been idle while Jo works, I’ve just shifted my attention over to the original topic of this blog: carbs. Not the kind we try to limit during our meals, the kind that mix fuel into the incoming airstream to power internal combustion engines. We still are on a selling spree around here, and Jenna listed my old Honda 50 pit scooter on Craig’slist, which prompted 23 responses the next day. I do the “first come, first served” philosophy to do the right thing, so I wound up delivering the unit to Lawndale, about 28 miles south of here. We got a little spending cash and more space in the shed. Next!

Yeah, that would be my 1985 Yamaha FJ600, which I bought new while just a mere pup of 19 and serving in the USAF in New Mexico. Over the years it has gotten its share of bumps and bruises, but it still looks all right cosmetically (does that mean it has make-up?). I rode it to work every day for almost a year and a half while I was an elevator man, but once I became a journeyman it entailed carrying tools and parts everywhere, so I parked the bike. I mean I parked it. I don’t think I’ve put 3,000 miles on it in the past 20 years, and leaving anything parked isn’t good. A few years ago I paid someone to go through the carbs to clean all the varnish out, but the bike just never ran the same after it sat. Anyway, while cleaning the scooter and taking photos of it to list, I tried to start the Yamaha. Boy, did I try … and try. Finally I started looking at the choke circuit, as it appeared to be somewhat stuck (How can something be “somewhat stuck”? That’s kinda like “slightly pregnant”). It was. So I looked further (this is usually where I get myself into trouble), and the choke on #2 (again, not a bathroom activity, this is a reference to the second of four carburetors) was frozen. So I began disassembly (this is always where I get myself into trouble).

I separated all four carbs and took them apart one at a time. I figured if I screwed up something I could look at any of the other three to straighten myself out. It’s a good thing I pulled them off, as there was no way this was just a simple fix. Each carb had several things wrong with them, and I learned more after each rebuild. I learned a lot more after I went into my file cabinet to retrieve the pink slip (vehicle ownership paper) for the scooter. That’s when the FJ600 Clymer’s Repair Manual magically appeared. Didn’t know that I had one, don’t know where I got it, but it really had some useful information. So much so, in fact, that I discovered the emulsion tube in each carb was removable. So I went back through them all … again. I also like the sentence that read, “Do not separate carbs by removing connecting brackets, or they may not realign.” Oops! One jet was unable to be removed, and I couldn’t get a wire through it to knock loose the crud plugging it. So I got a safety pin, which also was too big in diameter. So I got a smaller safety pin, which still was too big. So I carefully machined (okay, I used the bench grinder) it down until it did fit, and cleared the offending obstruction. I have two sets of needle and seats on order, and that should fix the last of the problems. I can’t wait to get it back together to see if it runs like it once did. One thing that really made a mess is that the last mechanic must have used some of that “perma-tacky” sealant around the airbox side of the carbs, and a couple sucked that crap (again, not necessarily a bathroom term, just a ubiquitous description we mechanics like to throw around) part way through the circuitry. Probably not the smartest thing to use around the carb intake. I don’t know why I only like to fix stuff up all nice when I’m getting ready to give it to someone else, must be some sort of altruistic personality trait. Or an obsessive sense of guilt.

In the carb photo, I think you can see all of the useful tools, books, and chemicals needed to facilitate a clean, comprehensive rebuild. I’ll let you ponder on the can of Vaseline. Also recommended, but not shown in the photo, are a noose, a hammer, matches (you should have a handy gasoline supply already), and a 12 pack.

Lately I have been fancying myself as the Bob Villa type (no, he’s not an adult film star, he’s that guy that had the home-repair show on TV, which I suppose would technically make him an adult film star). My point is, I now am looking at anything that I can fix, and perhaps even going out of my way to search. I’m not saying I’m sleeping with a tool belt on, I just am in that “groove” right now. For instance, after finding the offending carb pieces, I went into the house to look them up on the internet and order them, and I happened to look up and notice that the condensation drain line had come loose on the roof A/C. Suffering from “self-diagnosed adult onset ADD” (it’s my term, but you can use it if you like), I just couldn’t let it go, so I performed the 10-minute PVC glue fix before resuming my carb duties.

Today I got to ride some waves with Rich, and tonight Jenna, Jason, Cindy and I are flying out to Delaware to visit Cindy’s sister Kathy, who isn’t doing very well with her pancreatic cancer.

When I get home I should have some parts waiting for me, and we’ll see if I use the throttle, the 12 pack, or the Vaseline.

Stay tuned.

PS: I couldn’t let you guys ruminate too long on this … it’s for the O-rings … ON THE CARBS!!