I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Connie's Bath Shack!
If ever y'all need a rubber duck, then I have just the place for you!
The Red Dirt Girl and I visited Old Town, Spring, Texas, which is about 30 minutes north of downtown Houston, and we just happened to coincide with some sort of festival or whatever, the town was full of people, roads barred to vehicles, so it was all about leisurely strolling and browsing the many shops.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Rusty Metal Revived
We're not allowed to do this in England.
There are just so many things here that are forbidden in our "Road Vehicles, (Construction and Use) Legislation 1986.
I'm guessing that the shiny tank at the front is fuel. I may be wrong but, this looks an unwise placement.. We're required to have guards over our wheels, to the extent that if the vehicle is viewed directly from above, no part of the wheel or tyre can be seen projecting beyond such a guard. An exposed engine is forbidden. Moving, rotating, and hot parts such as the exhaust manifolds must be guarded in such a way as to make them safe. Those forward projecting chassis legs would be deemed too dangerous to pedestrians in a collision. Some kind of full-width bumper bar would be required.
A cool fun car.
Bring on the Beach-Boys music.
I like to see some of the things american customisers can do, though I think the choice of matt-black paint is a sad one. Easy and cheap, you don't need to be an expert sprayer to use it.
I like that Klaxon, though it's a pity it's not a vintage one. I have one just like it in the landrover, that old-time A-Hoo-Gah! sound works well at scaring people out of your way, including those who'd ignore a normal horn. Mine too has a cheap red plastic trumpet.
Nice detail work, stainless braided goodrich brake-hoses.... got those on the landrover too. They really do make a noticeable difference to pedal feel.
The chrome's a bit crass. as is the plastic radiator fan shroud. Something fabricated out of bras would be nicer*.
*Or brass, if you're short of bras.

Monday, 7 May 2012
Rusty Junk? -or a link to the Bygone Past?
Imagine the day when this arrived on the ranch, fresh from the factory, in Alma Michigan.
I stole this pic from BMW Dog, who has a neat photoset of historic vehicles in a parade in Montana.
Best I could find of a working Republic, in believable trim, as opposed to over-restored and shinier than ever was, even when it came out of the factory
""FLASH & FIZZLE" the latest title authored by David McMacken and published by the Alma Public Library, is available for purchase through the Library. The book chronicles the rise and fall of Alma's Republic Motor Truck Company. It is priced at $25.00. Mail orders are $30.00. Please make checks payable to the Alma Public Library."
It's a Republic truck, about 1918, later ones did not have the finned radiator casting. That's a toughly built thing, superior to many of its contemporaries.
No brakes on the front wheels! (Normal for the era, but scary on a downhill!)
Originally it would have had wooden spoked front wheels and solid tyres, these are very much a later addition. But not surprising. It's the front wheels and tyres that take the biggest shocks and the greatest lateral loads
Steering wheel was wooden. Another scary thing, the fuel filler is up there on the right. Oh yes. the fuel tank sits right up there over your knees. Nice idea if you crash. Or if it develops a leak. However, not such a bad idea in its era. No need for a fuel pump, it just gravity-fed to the carburettor down on the right side of the engine-block. Instrumentation? what?
How fast? Well look at the road and you can see. Sheesh. Next thing you'll be wanting lights.

Here's one that belonged to writer Edgar Rice Burroughs. He and his family had it bodied with a western wagon/prairie-schooner type canvas top and travelled all over the U.S in it.

$895 bought you the bare metal chassis, no seat or body, $970 bought the body illustrated. Some buyers would take the chassis to a coachbuilder to get the body of their choice, delivery van, for instance. Farmers probably bought the factory body, and maybe stake sides. The average wage in 1918? 875 dollars. Average price of a house? $4800.
Babe Ruth was on the astronomical salary of £7000!
"The war had created such an immense demand for basic necessities at
home and for the Allies in Europe that the domestic supply chain could
not keep up. The U.S. was providing Britain, France and Italy with
everything from wheat and lard to coal and clothing. Prices soared.
Inflation hammered the economy. Overall, 1918 registered the
second-highest single-year inflation rate in U.S. history, at 17.26
percent. The only worse year was 1917, when inflation was 17.80. (The
inflation rate in 2007, by way of comparison, was typical—2.85
percent—and even the severe inflation of 1980 was 13.58 percent). In
fact, it was this problem that spurred the government to begin measuring
inflation rates and cost-of-living indexes.
A report released in August 1918 showed that from August
1914 until June 1918, the cost of living in America rose 50-55 percent.
Food prices rose 62 percent. Clothing was up 77 percent. The price for a
pair of men’s overalls, the report stated, rose 161 percent. Working
conditions were improving, but the buying power of average Americans was
not."

Oh yes. Just like that.
The Gruene Homestead Inn, Gruene, New Braunfels, Texas.
Our little cottage for the night.
Bunkhouse. Git yer boots on!
Cabin with cactus-bath
Ranch House
Silo
Rusty Tractor. Not dead, just sleeping.
A good place to stay.
There's a live music bar and a swimming pool, and all that stuff too if you want it. We just sat out on the porch, in the swing seats and enjoyed the evening breeze, listening to distant train-whistles.
(Near San Antonio, the Alamo and all that. What? you forgot the Alamo? I bet Davy Crockett would have wanted a truck like this! )
Be patient. It takes me far longer than you can ever imagine to produce a blogpost. I'll bet you guys do it in minutes, with ease. I take forever, and get easily sidetracked.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



