Never the Same #50 Winter Remedies

Making the best of the cold weather by spending money!

The daily grind of going to and doing the work at the drywall plant wore thin with Kirk. But the bottom line: the money was good. On top of that wearing thin, the winter persisted unforgiving with the cold sticking around without a break and the snow fell on a regular basis. He still rode the family SnoJet snowmobile rather often with Sarah on the back, but the under-powered snowmobile ran slow for a gearhead like Kirk. There remained something of a low-powered rush for Kirk to run the sled across open fields wide-open throttle with biting cold wind and snow powder blowing up and stinging his face even with the limited speed. Kirk had to admit it felt especially nice with Sarah on the back, so when the moon hung in the sky full and high, Kirk would find a secluded place for a little making out. Remember the couple rode the machine encased in fat, puffy suits from feet to neck, so the making out remained limited. But still... 

Well. Kirk wouldn’t have it any longer�"the old snowmobile that is. He always watched the classifieds and auto swap sheets for any cool cars or parts that he might need. One day, he spotted a snowmobile that drew him right in. A SnoChief: a brand from Canada that no one had ever heard of, but he had to go see it anyway because it was “different.” He called the owner and made plans to see it as soon as he could after work.

Driving into the city, Kirk found the address and there it sat. Not too impressive, it wasn’t wrecked or anything being a orangey red in color. Originally, it had been a lightweight, under-powered sled like his family had, but this was nothing like the family’s. Similar, it had originally been powered by a 290 engine compared to the family’s 292, but the old 290 engine had blown up and replaced by�"wait for it�"a 500 engine!  Kirk and the owner started it up, which seemed pretty easy, while Kirk tried not to show his intense interest at the resonance of its exhaust noise, but, unquestionably, he was sold on arrival. The owner seemed rather proud of the crazy insane machine, but he said that he didn’t have a place to ride being in the city nor the time. The price was right and Kirk didn’t even haggle on the price he wanted it so bad. Making good money for a single guy living at home, he had the cash in his pocket. They loaded it up and Kirk took it home. As you can imagine, the machine turned out as a completely different animal and I mean wild animal.

Excitedly donning his suit and helmet, he fired up the beast. After a very brief warm up, Kirk punched the throttle and held on! The skis lifted off the snow and he roared down the driveway! The thing was rocket ship on skis. Being blower cooled, the engine had the high-pitched jet aircraft whine to it. After ripping around a while, Kirk finally parked it due to the evening getting late and he was frozen. He exhaled a deep breath of release.

Going inside the house, Kirk realized his cheeks were probably frostbit from over frigid exposure, but he thought, Oh my gawd the machine was wickedly fun! He often bragged to other gearheads and snowmobilers that if his new sled had the traction it could pull a car out of the ditch. Kirk’s mother on the flip side said the sled sounded intimidating when he flew past the house saying that the sled yowled like a low flying 747 jet. She worried out loud that he could kill himself on it. Kirk’s mother warned Sarah Elizabeth aside not to ride on that wild snowmobile because it sounded so menacing. Yeah, those were just a couple of encouraging compliments for Kirk. He had new toy for the winter and because of it he had a full feeling return and that full feeling was�"SPEED!

It didn’t take long for Kirk to relate the shear rush of the snowmobile to the smooth asphalt rush of driving the stock car. Putting that with what Chuck had told him about Kirk’s skills and talents and Sarah’s implication that Kirk wouldn’t be Kirk without racing, Kirk decided what he needed to do and that was to RACE! And he needed to race, and he must race faster next year! For one of the few times in his life so far, Kirk made a pivotal decision that could be life altering. We’ll see.

That Friday night, he coerced his brother-in-law Jon to come over and help him in the cold barn garage. In reality there was no coercing about it because easy-going Jon seemed more than happy to oblige. As mentioned before, Kirk and Jon had a few minor interactions like family dinners and fishing in the farm pond a couple times but that was it. Jon had married Kirk’s younger of two older sisters, so the age difference wasn’t as large as between Kirk and Mike. Jon wasn’t a gearhead/mechanic per se, but he knew his way around cars in a general sense though his forte was metal work and welding. Kirk and Jon got along just fine, but Jon and Kirk’s father always had a kind of rivalry (read: pissing contest) whenever they were in the same room.  Kirk’s father could rant and rave about anything from politics to the weather and Jon would take an offensive position. Both men’s opinion always happened to be the best opinion and they would fight each over to prove it. Kirk’s position always seemed to shut his mouth and not ever, never get involved by picking a side. Kirk had always been the quiet bystander in noisy situations like that!   

It wasn’t a huge job taking the short block out of the stack car because all the dirty work had been done over several days, but still, the engine removal from the frame presented a task he couldn’t do by himself. Instead of using the floor jack which surprisingly Kirk had thought of ahead would only make things precarious, he stacked a neat pile of wood blocks under the engine as snug as he could manage.

When Jon arrived, Kirk already had his van prepositioned with the side cargo doors facing the garage doors. With Jon at the ready to steady the engine block, Kirk removed the six bolts attaching it to the solid mounts on the frame. The last two bolts bound tightly somewhat making it difficult to fully release the block, but with a bit of wiggling and lifting and shifting with Jon’s help he got the bolts out. There the engine sat loose and detached. The two men stood up straightening their backs and eyeing the engine knowing what they were in for in picking the heavy engine up and carrying it.

Jon said, “Hold on a second. How about we lay a couple two by four boards across the frame? We lift the engine above the frame and sit it down before lugging it to the van.”

“Sounds good,” Kirk agreed. “I don’t know exactly how heavy it is so we’ll find out.” He added a shrug and grim grin like he does.

Scrounging around Kirk found a couple sound boards and set them in place. With Jon in the front and Kirk behind with his legs braced inside the frame rails and feet firmly planted on the floor.

With a “One, Two, three.” They lifted the engine cleanly, stepped the couple steps forward and set it on the boards.

            “Not as heavy as I thought,” Kirk said. “How about you?”

                        “Seems okay,” Jon said. “But I’m not sure about the transition with you in there.” He stood there a moment. “How about a man lift?”

                      “What are you thinking?” Kirk asked.

                      “Use a chain with a pipe that way we can lift it easier from where it sits.” Jon said demonstrating with a bicep curl.

                      “Great idea. Hmmm, I should have thought of that first.”

Kirk found a piece of pipe, a short chain which he attached to the engine using two for the head bolts. After checking it out with a short lift, the two men lifted the engine from the boards down to the floor and then, gaining a breath and a new grip, from there right into the van. Not exactly how Kirk had pre-planned, but with Jon’s help and suggestions, he thought it went pretty smooth. With the engine securely in the van, the men went in the house for coffee and cake which Kirk’s mother usually had at the ready.

       The next day, Kirk steeled himself, gassed up the van and headed for the parts store, one of his favorite, most visited places. There he purchased the stock oversized pistons like Chuck had informed him about. Pistons come with the pins for the connecting rods already sized and fitted so Kirk didn’t have to concern himself with buying those. With a deep breath getting into his van, he then headed deep into the city. After a long drive, he pulled into the driveway of the machine shop. Quite a few vehicles sat there, mostly pickups. Plenty of automotive machine shops operated around the area in those days, but this shop specialized in competition machining. He knew a lot of racers used the shop’s services, so he thought if he was going to do this speed stuff, he needed to it right.

Walking inside, the place appeared relatively busy. Up on a board, reminiscent of a fast food place, services rendered with prices attached were posted. Some of the services were one price like boiling out an engine block that got rid of all the gunk, burnt oil and debris and some services were per cylinder, such as boring, or by the number of cylinders like four, six or eight cylinders. Kirk knew ahead of time that this would be a spendy proposition, but adding it up roughly in his head, he realized that he had to save up for the machining he needed done. A pile of shiny brochures lay on the counter so he pinched one up and perused it as he waited. There enclosed showed some of the services being performed. Everything looked so shiny and�"professional. Finally, the counter man inquired into what Kirk needed done, but he still wasn’t sure if he was up for facing the consequence. He doubted his knowledge and ability and his especially his finances to get the expensive machining done on his cheap junkyard engine.

            “Can I help you with something young man?” The counter man said sensing Kirk’s confusion and uncertainty. Kirk noticed the man’s name was Earl.

            “Well.” Kirk stalled to bolster his courage and focus. “I’m not completely sure of what I need done, but first off I know I need cylinder boring done.”

            Earl pulled out a worksheet and jotted something down. Earl said, “Well, that’s certainly a start.”  Then, Earl asked, “What engine is this for?”

            Kirk told him.

            “What pistons do you need?”

            “I have new pistons with me.”

            “Okay. What is this engine going to be used for?”

            “Stock car: Sportsman Class.” Kirk gulped.

            “Oh, that helps. We get a lot of you racing guys bringing work in for us. You have the piston rings?”

            “No.”

            “Bearings?”

            “No, just the pistons.”

            Earl let out a long breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

            “Tell you what you could get done. Okay, boring to fit your pistons with competition honing. Do have new standard pistons?” Kirk nodded with an “ah, huh.” “When you sign for this work, you’ll notice that we do not guarantee that the cylinder won’t be weakened or eventually puncture. You understand?” Kirk nodded. “Okay, then.  We use chrome moly rings for racing purposes and top of the line Clevite bearings as well.”

            “Okay.”

            “But before that, we should boil your block as a matter of routine to clean it all out. I have to recommend this unless you’ve had it done before. We ream clean all the oil passages making sure they’re completely clear and if you want, chamfer the oil ports on the crankshaft as well for good, even lubrication to the bearings.”

            “Sounds good.”

            The man jotted more notes. “Okay, I recommend the crankshaft and rods shot peened to remove all the rough edges from the factory forgings. With your new pistons you must balance up the running gear which is one of the more expensive jobs, but for competition, I wouldn’t recommend running an unbalanced engine.” He pointed over his shoulder. Kirk saw the price. He felt his knees get weak almost buckling for a second. But he meekly nodded.

            “Yeah, good. Oh, I saw ah, deck shaving,” Kirk pointed to the board. “Is that a good idea?”

            “Sure, trues up the block for a good sealing surface with the cylinder head and you can shave off more for a slight compression gain.

            “How much can you shave off on my engine.”

          “Hmmm, up to sixty-thousands, but,” he held up a finger. “I wouldn’t recommend doing that much.”
“Ahhh, how about thirty then?”

            “Perfect. Is that it?” He wrote more down.

            “I think so. Ah, do you do much more for other racers.”

            Earl smiled. “It’s entirely up to you, but I get the feeling you haven’t gotten work done before or have much expertise in the whole process. To answer your question, well, some come in here with unlimited bank accounts and they ask for some really exotic work with limited return.”

            “No. I don’t think so, I’m good.”

            “Okay, fill out your info at the top and sign the bottom to authorize the work. Remember we don’t guarantee the work for competition, but we have years of experience and do our very best. Very few failures.”

            “Can’t ask for more than that. Oh, ah, do I need to pay up front?” Kirk suddenly had a sour stomach.

            “No, of course not, we just hold your engine hostage until you pay up. If not, there’s plenty of buyers out there in the market for a competition engine.”

            “Really?”

            “Sure, but we work with the customer. What, we have five months before the racing season right? You alright with that?”

            “Yes! Okay. So how long until you’re done? Do you think?”

            “Well, unless you want to pay premium for a rush job ahead of everyone else, we’re running about seven to eight weeks out considering the queue of jobs we have.”

            “I’m okay with that, thanks for your help, your advice, Earl. Oh, ah one more question, do you think I should consider anything else on this engine?”

            “On your short block? No, you’ll get a nice spinning, perfectly balanced runner,” Earl paused. “What about the cylinder head? You probably want to match the work we do on the block.”

            “I’ve got that covered, but thanks for the suggestion. Thanks, Thanks a lot.” Kirk reached across the counter and shook Earl’s hand which Kirk noticed exhibited plenty of scars and calluses.

               “Drive around back. Ring the bell and the guys will unload your engine.” Earl had a stiff paper tag with a wire tie. He handed it to Kirk. “Give this to the guys. They’ll attach it to your motor.”

            “Okay.”

            Kirk drove around and they unloaded his engine with a small forklift and set it on a pallet. He took in the fact that on one side were several greasy and dirty engines sitting that yet were to be worked on and maybe the same number on the other side that were apparently completed engines. The sight of these took Kirk’s breath away. These engines encased in clear plastic, Kirk noted were spotlessly, even sanitary clean, outside block surfaces painted representative colors: orange for Chevrolet, blue for Fords, and red for Chrysler engines. Some surfaces looked mirror polished where machining had been done and coated with light oil. Some engines had domed pistons sticking above, out of the cylinders that were maybe for drag racing machines because he was quite confident they would not be allowed in stock car racing. He stood a second in awe gazing across the shop of machines that he had couldn’t comprehend their function. The shop was well-lit and spotlessly clean. A couple clean-dressed guys attended machines that were whirling, grinding and spraying liquid as metal shavings rained down to the floor. It became readily apparent to Kirk that these guys were professional machinists, experts in their own right, and not some grease monkeys off the street like Kirk deemed himself.

            “Never seen the shop before?” Said the guy, noticing Kirk’s discernment of the operation.

            Kirk just shook his head.

            “I’ll give you the nickel tour,” the guy said with a gesture.

            Kirk got to see a boring machine at work, the bench where they weighed everything with a very sensitive scale for engine balancing, the boiling hot tank where they boiled out the parts, and a small booth Kirk thought looked like sandblasting which was shot peening. He saw the surface planer one guy was operating. Simply, he was awestruck by all of it never seeing anything like an operational machine shop, at least to this scale ever before.

            The guy in the shop gazed at Kirk’s engine and the pistons in boxes Kirk had handed him.  

            “Ah, you’ve never had engine work done before?” Kirk just shook his head.

            “I haven’t seen your work order, but are you getting your engine balanced?”

            “Yep!” Kirk said proudly.

            “Well, good thing I caught this now. We need to have your flywheel to balance the whole crank train. Do you have it with you?”

            Kirk’s proud feeling melting away to his usual insecure grim mode. “No, I don’t have it with me. I’ll have to bring it back.”

            “Yeah, I wouldn’t your job to be held up over something as simple as that.”

            “Right. I can bring the flywheel over right away this week.”

            “If you want. I’m sure we won’t get to your engine for a few weeks. So bring it by in time for us to balance your motor.” The guy said. “Oh, do you think you want it milled? You know, true it up?”

            “Should I?”

            “Might save you trouble down the road. When you bring it by, just let them know up front to update your work order.”  

            “Got it!” Kirk said.

            As he turned to go out the guy shouted out to him. “Hey, don’t forget the mounting bolts!”

            It hit Kirk hard and he wanted to shout back, “No s**t!” but he didn’t. He just gestured that he got the message.

            He knew well enough that a flywheel was necessary when balancing an engine, but maybe he just didn’t think it all through, that is, he needed to balance the engine. Not remembering the flywheel crunched his pride and when the guy reminded him about the bolts only damaged Kirk more. He continued on, tail between his legs.

                Kirk meekly climbed into his van dejected yet overwhelmed by what he had just done. He knew with the quick figuring in his head that he sure didn’t have the money to pay for the work he just signed for. He had a humble savings account, but not enough for that project and he wondered if he could save enough in two months. Maybe. If he scrimped.

            As he drove slowly home on the salty slushy roads, Kirk wondered if and when the engine was done what kind of difference would it make on the track. Everything he got done, well almost, was the machine work Chuck had suggested. Thinking back to the season, Chuck never ran back with the wannabes like Kirk, but Kirk didn’t recall Chuck winning much of anything as well. Was that his destiny the next coming season, to run middle of the pack instead of at the rear? Would it be worth the money for a few horsepower only to a pack runner? Kirk didn’t know what he felt. Then, he recalled that he needed to spend on a number of other things if he wanted to go faster, namely racing tires, but there was more like high dollar carburetors, headers, and the list goes on. How fast could he go?

            What did that cash laden number 36 driver have in his car and engine? The exotic stuff that Earl had suggested? Could be. Kirk knew number 36 had a lot of lightweight parts on the car besides you could obviously see and that stuff wasn’t cheap. While going to the machine shop, he had a vision albeit a very weak vision of him running up front and taking the checkered at a feature event, but he knew better because he couldn’t see it, he couldn’t even imagine it happening. Kirk always knew better about reality than dreams, and so he wasn’t going to tell anybody what he had signed up to get done to his engine, not that anyone really cared that he had even raced.

            Kirk shrugged to himself and for now, he was just the same old Kirk ‘cuz nothing changed for him; or perhaps, taking this plunge of an engine build he could have changed his destiny just a bit by at least forcing himself to save money to pay for it!