Oh..The shame of it all.....
01-12-2013, 07:06 AM
#1
Foghorn Leghorn
Thread Starter
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: I reside in a near constant state of amazment.
Posts: 2,923
Oh..The shame of it all.....
After driving the fastback all over the county yesterday, well over 100 miles, I damn near made it home.
Damn near.
Man, she was running good. All day long with nary a hiccup or stumble; my gauges reflecting the classic Mustang nirvana that can only be achieved through countless hours of intense labor and the occasional blood sacrifice. Whether it was 80mph down the interstate or in the stop and go traffic of Daytona, I couldn't have asked for better.
I stopped at Sunnys Liquor Store about 4 miles from home to get my monthly supply of Sailor Jerry's and Coca Cola and was reveling in the attention the fastback garners and couldn't have been happier. I was The Lord of the Highway.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed the first stumble then a split second later, she was dead. Dead. Dead! Right there in front of God and the previously admiring crowd. I was able to almost coast it on to a side street but the back of the car still hung precariously in the highway. CRAP!
I immediately jumped out and started, in vain, trying to push it by myself but because of the uphill grade I was making precious little progress. Honest to God, within moments there were 5 guys literally running over to help. Without a word we pushed her to the shoulder of the side street. One guy who was behind me on the road actually parked his S10 pickup catty corner across the lane so that his truck served as a shield for the fastback against the traffic.
Once the fastback was out of danger, I of course thanked them all and commented to the guy with the S10 about his parking job and he replied that he couldn't risk the fastback getting hit and that he would rather see his own truck get whacked. Imagine that!
I assured them that I could handle it from there and I didn't wish to impose on any more of their time so they took their leave.
I quickly deduced an electrical problem caused by an improperly secured bundle of wires that fell on to the header and melted. Damn! That was stupid. How did I miss securing that?
While I was snooping around under the hood and trying to figure out WTF, a fellow in a very, very nice '67 SS 350 Camaro on his way to a car show stopped to render aid. We chatted for a bit and he offered a ride to where ever I needed to go but I politely declined and he took his leave in his very nice Brand Xmobile, but not before offering up the obligatory, "You know I have to say it, don't you? You know what FORD stands for don't you?!" to which I replied, "*sigh*. I can't say a thing about that because at the moment it's the truth."
Not having enough remaining daylight to make such extensive roadside repairs, I kissed the ugly baby and called for a tow.
After shelling out $45.00 to the wrecker driver I thanked him and waved goodbye.
Then silently thanked God for this lesson in humility.
Damn near.
Man, she was running good. All day long with nary a hiccup or stumble; my gauges reflecting the classic Mustang nirvana that can only be achieved through countless hours of intense labor and the occasional blood sacrifice. Whether it was 80mph down the interstate or in the stop and go traffic of Daytona, I couldn't have asked for better.
I stopped at Sunnys Liquor Store about 4 miles from home to get my monthly supply of Sailor Jerry's and Coca Cola and was reveling in the attention the fastback garners and couldn't have been happier. I was The Lord of the Highway.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed the first stumble then a split second later, she was dead. Dead. Dead! Right there in front of God and the previously admiring crowd. I was able to almost coast it on to a side street but the back of the car still hung precariously in the highway. CRAP!
I immediately jumped out and started, in vain, trying to push it by myself but because of the uphill grade I was making precious little progress. Honest to God, within moments there were 5 guys literally running over to help. Without a word we pushed her to the shoulder of the side street. One guy who was behind me on the road actually parked his S10 pickup catty corner across the lane so that his truck served as a shield for the fastback against the traffic.
Once the fastback was out of danger, I of course thanked them all and commented to the guy with the S10 about his parking job and he replied that he couldn't risk the fastback getting hit and that he would rather see his own truck get whacked. Imagine that!
I assured them that I could handle it from there and I didn't wish to impose on any more of their time so they took their leave.
I quickly deduced an electrical problem caused by an improperly secured bundle of wires that fell on to the header and melted. Damn! That was stupid. How did I miss securing that?
While I was snooping around under the hood and trying to figure out WTF, a fellow in a very, very nice '67 SS 350 Camaro on his way to a car show stopped to render aid. We chatted for a bit and he offered a ride to where ever I needed to go but I politely declined and he took his leave in his very nice Brand Xmobile, but not before offering up the obligatory, "You know I have to say it, don't you? You know what FORD stands for don't you?!" to which I replied, "*sigh*. I can't say a thing about that because at the moment it's the truth."
Not having enough remaining daylight to make such extensive roadside repairs, I kissed the ugly baby and called for a tow.
After shelling out $45.00 to the wrecker driver I thanked him and waved goodbye.
Then silently thanked God for this lesson in humility.
Last edited by fastbackford351; 01-12-2013 at 08:11 AM.
01-12-2013, 04:58 PM
#3
I've put over 40k miles on my fastback since 2007. I've driven to Massachusetts, from North Carolina and back, twice. I've driven a good portion of the Blue Ridge Mountains. There was a time when I knew every tow truck driver in my town. The only way that I got the kinks out was to drive it. That's when I would learn that the fuel lines were not up to par or that my belt was getting old...or my brakes...lights...electrical system. I have a routine of once a week just walking around the car, looking underneath and under the hood for any abnormalities. Just last weekend on my way to go out fartin around, four people let me know that one of my brake lights was out. Cool stuff like that energizes me to keep it on the road. No one believes me at car shows that this car is my only car.
Don't let it discourage you. Keep it rolling!
James
Don't let it discourage you. Keep it rolling!
James
01-12-2013, 05:03 PM
#4
Foghorn Leghorn
Thread Starter
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: I reside in a near constant state of amazment.
Posts: 2,923
It is good to know that people like that do exist and I find it amazing the sway these old cars still hold over people.
BTW, the fastback is once again combat ready.
It turns out that only my wire loom was melted on the headers. I peeled it back and the wires inside were fine. Whew. Talk about a shot over my bow.
I don't know how they were still good because the looming was melted almost completely away and stuck to the headers so the wires wouldn't have been far behind. I double checked them to make sure their integrity was still intact and it was. I blame my initial diagnosis on low light and a dumb ***. I secured the wiring away from the headers, but good.
After seeing my wires were good I was back to scratching my *** and blinking so I went back to square one and checked my spark which was a real weak yellow. I carry a spare coil with me and last night before I called the wrecker I swapped it out on a wild *** guess and it still wouldn't fire. It turns out that the spare that I have been toting around for the last 10 years was bad too but I didn't realize it. Certainly both of them couldn't be bad, right?
Wrong.
Today I checked my spark and saw that I had none so I grabbed another one I had in stock and slapped it in and WHAMO! I'm back in the saddle with a bright blue spark.
It cost me the price of a tow and a bit of pride but I do love those fixes. No rewiring needed so I got away with one.....again.
It's good to be me.
BTW, the fastback is once again combat ready.
It turns out that only my wire loom was melted on the headers. I peeled it back and the wires inside were fine. Whew. Talk about a shot over my bow.
I don't know how they were still good because the looming was melted almost completely away and stuck to the headers so the wires wouldn't have been far behind. I double checked them to make sure their integrity was still intact and it was. I blame my initial diagnosis on low light and a dumb ***. I secured the wiring away from the headers, but good.
After seeing my wires were good I was back to scratching my *** and blinking so I went back to square one and checked my spark which was a real weak yellow. I carry a spare coil with me and last night before I called the wrecker I swapped it out on a wild *** guess and it still wouldn't fire. It turns out that the spare that I have been toting around for the last 10 years was bad too but I didn't realize it. Certainly both of them couldn't be bad, right?
Wrong.
Today I checked my spark and saw that I had none so I grabbed another one I had in stock and slapped it in and WHAMO! I'm back in the saddle with a bright blue spark.
It cost me the price of a tow and a bit of pride but I do love those fixes. No rewiring needed so I got away with one.....again.
It's good to be me.
Last edited by fastbackford351; 01-12-2013 at 05:07 PM.
01-14-2013, 02:51 PM
#6
3rd Gear Member
Join Date: Sep 2010
Location: Eastern Tennessee
Posts: 628
After driving the fastback all over the county yesterday, well over 100 miles, I damn near made it home.
Damn near.
Man, she was running good. All day long with nary a hiccup or stumble; my gauges reflecting the classic Mustang nirvana that can only be achieved through countless hours of intense labor and the occasional blood sacrifice. Whether it was 80mph down the interstate or in the stop and go traffic of Daytona, I couldn't have asked for better.
I stopped at Sunnys Liquor Store about 4 miles from home to get my monthly supply of Sailor Jerry's and Coca Cola and was reveling in the attention the fastback garners and couldn't have been happier. I was The Lord of the Highway.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed the first stumble then a split second later, she was dead. Dead. Dead! Right there in front of God and the previously admiring crowd. I was able to almost coast it on to a side street but the back of the car still hung precariously in the highway. CRAP!
I immediately jumped out and started, in vain, trying to push it by myself but because of the uphill grade I was making precious little progress. Honest to God, within moments there were 5 guys literally running over to help. Without a word we pushed her to the shoulder of the side street. One guy who was behind me on the road actually parked his S10 pickup catty corner across the lane so that his truck served as a shield for the fastback against the traffic.
Once the fastback was out of danger, I of course thanked them all and commented to the guy with the S10 about his parking job and he replied that he couldn't risk the fastback getting hit and that he would rather see his own truck get whacked. Imagine that!
I assured them that I could handle it from there and I didn't wish to impose on any more of their time so they took their leave.
I quickly deduced an electrical problem caused by an improperly secured bundle of wires that fell on to the header and melted. Damn! That was stupid. How did I miss securing that?
While I was snooping around under the hood and trying to figure out WTF, a fellow in a very, very nice '67 SS 350 Camaro on his way to a car show stopped to render aid. We chatted for a bit and he offered a ride to where ever I needed to go but I politely declined and he took his leave in his very nice Brand Xmobile, but not before offering up the obligatory, "You know I have to say it, don't you? You know what FORD stands for don't you?!" to which I replied, "*sigh*. I can't say a thing about that because at the moment it's the truth."
Not having enough remaining daylight to make such extensive roadside repairs, I kissed the ugly baby and called for a tow.
After shelling out $45.00 to the wrecker driver I thanked him and waved goodbye.
Then silently thanked God for this lesson in humility.
Damn near.
Man, she was running good. All day long with nary a hiccup or stumble; my gauges reflecting the classic Mustang nirvana that can only be achieved through countless hours of intense labor and the occasional blood sacrifice. Whether it was 80mph down the interstate or in the stop and go traffic of Daytona, I couldn't have asked for better.
I stopped at Sunnys Liquor Store about 4 miles from home to get my monthly supply of Sailor Jerry's and Coca Cola and was reveling in the attention the fastback garners and couldn't have been happier. I was The Lord of the Highway.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed the first stumble then a split second later, she was dead. Dead. Dead! Right there in front of God and the previously admiring crowd. I was able to almost coast it on to a side street but the back of the car still hung precariously in the highway. CRAP!
I immediately jumped out and started, in vain, trying to push it by myself but because of the uphill grade I was making precious little progress. Honest to God, within moments there were 5 guys literally running over to help. Without a word we pushed her to the shoulder of the side street. One guy who was behind me on the road actually parked his S10 pickup catty corner across the lane so that his truck served as a shield for the fastback against the traffic.
Once the fastback was out of danger, I of course thanked them all and commented to the guy with the S10 about his parking job and he replied that he couldn't risk the fastback getting hit and that he would rather see his own truck get whacked. Imagine that!
I assured them that I could handle it from there and I didn't wish to impose on any more of their time so they took their leave.
I quickly deduced an electrical problem caused by an improperly secured bundle of wires that fell on to the header and melted. Damn! That was stupid. How did I miss securing that?
While I was snooping around under the hood and trying to figure out WTF, a fellow in a very, very nice '67 SS 350 Camaro on his way to a car show stopped to render aid. We chatted for a bit and he offered a ride to where ever I needed to go but I politely declined and he took his leave in his very nice Brand Xmobile, but not before offering up the obligatory, "You know I have to say it, don't you? You know what FORD stands for don't you?!" to which I replied, "*sigh*. I can't say a thing about that because at the moment it's the truth."
Not having enough remaining daylight to make such extensive roadside repairs, I kissed the ugly baby and called for a tow.
After shelling out $45.00 to the wrecker driver I thanked him and waved goodbye.
Then silently thanked God for this lesson in humility.
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