My knucle rebuild write up (Long Post)
From the 3FE archives.
[3FE] Knuckle Mega-Death. or You'll need more beer for that job.
"I never replace those damn things! They are hell to get out"
Christo Slee said this to our KLF via telephone a while back. Mark and I wish we had heard those words of wisdom before launching our two front assaults on the twin batteries of knuckle guns. They kicked our ass!
What is it, you may ask? It's those damn brass spindle bushings that Marlin Crawler has for sale but rarely does. I had some on hand in case any were buggerd up. So Mark and I think (big mistake) go ahead and replace them while were in there. We managed to screw one of the originals up enough trying to remove it that it had to come out. I rented a hammer puller from AutoZone but no dice. We had to beat it out with a chisel and hammer. I can hear heep owners laughing at me from behind the garage.
We were wounded but still taking the battle to the enemy. Then they hit us with a surprise assault that sent us into the trenches. We lacked more essential words of wisdom from KLF that would have been nice to have in advance. But as battle hardened fools we fought with wooden spears against neutron firing cyborgs. The essential intelligence that we lacked was that you are supposed to test fit the new bushings on the axle before seating it into the spindle. If they are too tight try another one. Well of course it was too tight and already seated into the spindle. This will make it impossible to get the C clip on to hold the hub on the axle. Ask Mark about that.
The cure of course was to put one of my spindles on Mark's truck so he could go home to Austin. The fix is to buy a brake hone and hone out the bushing until it fits. So here we are, prisoners of war,
Mark shipped off to work in the enemy’s muffler bearing factory, or used for medical experiments, not quite sure and I with a dismantled front end on the Batan death march being ridiculed by my children.
Neighbors ask, "Are you done yet?" but progress is slow and gnats irritate my wounds.
Finally, I think that I might live to eat more gruel when the DS hub would not disengage. The FSM is vague at this point and the smell of beer breath was strong but I was saved by Mark emailing me two articles on Aisin hub rebuilds (now in the files section) that clearly showed that the small spring goes over the small tabs on the pawl. Now the hub would lock and unlock with a nice click, like the opening of another bottle of beer. I re-visited the PS and made it right too.
Now I had turned the tide against the enemy and unleashed a full volley of 98 degree bio processed beer. I trimmed the backing plates for the mini-truck calipers, its surprising how little need to come off to clear them. But the enemy was not quite dead and humiliated me one last time. I tried to remove the old brake lines with the new Craftsman flare end wrenches but could not get it to come loose. I even put some vise grips on the back side of the mounting plate on the barrel shaped female end. Wait a minute, that's not an American GI, it's a damn Nazi in wearing our uniform.
He almost bayoneted me but I realized that I was trying to unscrew a hard cast part from itself. Duh! Remove the C clip and the pressure clip and the thing comes right apart.
Fortunately the neighbors were in my garage fridge and missed this ugly incident. Grinning as the egg vanished from my face; I drilled out the rivets holding the brake L to the backing plates and bolted them on. The clearance between the bolt head and the rotor is damn thin but then so have been my victories in this struggle. The wheel studs go into the new brembo slotted drilled rotors, which I scored for $162 shipped for the pair, without incident.
Now with the enemy bleeding from several wounds I boarded his vessel to plunder his cargo. I laugh as his galley slave thrusts a blunderbuss in my face and it fails to fire. I have gasket making material you fool! I make a gasket to go behind my new 1" master cylinder where it attaches. No gasket in the box from Marlin is not a problem at this point and I simply push the slave into the sea where he will surely be eaten by the swarming sharks.
I load the enemies wine and harem into my hold as I use the Motive pressure bleeder to send the vile fluid pulsing into an empty beer bottle as it is replaced with pure mead. Time for victory laps!
Several 50 mph to zero stops condition the new rotors and the smell is strong, almost noticeable above the wafting Fullers London Ale that smothers the usual odors of gear oil grease and sweat. My head swarms as my hubris level maxes until I realize that I still have to clean up the garage so I can get the convertible in there for the first time in over a week, thus demoting me to less than deity status.
My victory is unheralded as I hook the trailer to the Cruiser so my wife can take it to pick up re-upholstered club chairs from the shop. I am relegated to the convertible for my trip to work today.
The masses of unenlightened worker bees on the beltway will never know the heroic efforts it took to come back from Dante's 7th level of hell. Kathy will get all the glory as she sends the gawk eyed peasants into the wall in turn 3.
Sleep comes well after midnight this morning but my lunchtime swim revives me enough to remember to stop at the liquor store and drop a
Grant and a Jackson for the holiday weekends supply of grog.
Haar!
Dunbar
Oh, and death to bin Laden.
MMW’s reply:
OK - Iam no writer...but I have pictures!
Untitled Document
I'll add a little more to our story,
Got a very late start on Saturday, had to round up a few more parts, and finish putting together David's parts washer. After a hour of beers and chit chat - then Rob showed up, for more beer and chit chat.
Chad - our expert - was on call and could not make it in person, but was there via cell phone when needed. David and I decided to jump right into it,armed with only his FSM.
Things were going slow, and you have read the part about the brass bushing... So skip ahead to later that night.
After leaving a few parts off the knuckle and having to pull everything off and put it back together a few times - that's when I looked at my watch and said - oh s***! It's 2:30 am.
David and I had done not completed on knuckle yet, and I say to him, "I think I better run home, sleep a little, shower, and this will all make sense in the am.
Both of David's cars were down, and he had pulled his old Diesel Mercedes out of storage. He hands me the keys, tells me about how to warm up the glow plugs and says "by the way...the dash lights don't work, and one headlight is out - oh..and it's out of registration. But it has insurance!
Who cared! A little sleep and things would seem clearer in the am.
AM came - started around 9am, done buy around noon. While I was completing the rebuild...David was being a trooper and sorting our tools, finishing up my roof rack, handing me beer, and getting my brakes ready to bleed.
Thanks also go to his wife Kathy for keeping the hot food coming.
I rushed home - loaded up the family, who was staying with the grandparent,
(Who I barley saw all weekend) and headed to Austin.
The truck drove fine. After a few hours it was time to stop for gas and food.
I go to open my door - and it's jammed. OK - I'll just craw over and exit the passenger door. It's Jammed to. My 6 year old though it was very funny!
So did my wife, who was a good sport about the whole weekend. We just decided to climb out the windows. It seems that the front power door locks had shorted out and frozen shut. A quick yank on the door locks with a pair of vice grips and the doors were working again, but no power locks.
Then I got home and got a call from David. He had found my lug nut key to the wheel locks. It's a good thing I did not have a flat.
Live is an adventure when you own a cruiser.
-Mark
One Knuckle down - one to go!
