Here’s a video update of the last two weeks’ work: Installing the headliner, reupholstering the rear seat, and pulling parts from a couple of trucks in New York State.
Category: Junkyards
Thanksgiving Picking
Up in New York State to visit my family this Thanksgiving weekend, I reconnected with a guy near my sister’s house who has a lot full of antique iron in some fields off a back road. He’d advertised a Travelette late last year which I was interested in picking over but when the green truck landed in my lap, my plans changed. In February he said he also had a ’62 Travelall panel van in rough shape (he sent me a few pictures) so I figured I’d take a few hours and finally go check it out (the Travelette has since been purchased). I packed my standard recovery kit: tools, torch, PBblaster, impact gun, pry bars, and cold weather gear. I also bought a cordless angle grinder based on previous experiences, but left it in the box in case I didn’t need it.
If you didn’t know where to look for his yard you’d never find it, but what a collection he’s got. He’s heavy into Studebaker, Willys, and old Chevrolet, but there are all different makes sprinkled in. After carefully edging past an ancient Hudson, we cut some brush back and crawled through a hole in the fence to reach the truck.
It was beached next to a dually 50’s Chevrolet truck and a bathtub Nash that was sinking backwards into the dirt. The Travelall was well-used and picked over pretty good, so there wasn’t much to see there; I grabbed marker lights, the rear barn door handle (now I can soak this, disassemble it, and rekey it for the red truck) and the ’62 grille and headlight surrounds, which are in very good shape. The steering column was completely gone as was the manual box, so that was a bust.
I walked through the section I was in and came upon a ’68 pickup with a cap in very good shape. Both doors were inaccessible so I couldn’t get into the cab, and lifting the hood revealed column-shift manual steering, so I didn’t go for that. But the sheet metal on the front clip was in miraculously good shape. Both turn signal buckets were solid and the metal behind them was too, so I talked with the owner and made a deal on the entire nose. He agreed to let me cut it out as opposed to trying to remove all the fasteners (both of the fenders were garbage in the usual C-series way).
So I unfastened what I could, pulled the radiator and drained it for him, and cut both sides out as carefully as possible. I found that my normal-sized 20V batteries weren’t big enough to keep the grinder going for long, so I’ll have to get a pair of larger ones when these are worn out.
After about an hour I had the sheet metal free from the truck but had to cut the bottom mount bolt out to get it around a big homemade bumper. This took several trips back and forth to the garage, where he had my charger on a long extension cord. Then I had to jimmy the clip backwards to scoot it under the top lip of the same bumper. With that out, and a set of perfect taillight buckets, I hauled my finds back to the car and gave him my cash.
He then took me on a quick tour of the collection, where he’s got even more stuff across the street in another field, including a beautiful old cabover IH tractor, several C-series pickups, and a B-series Travelall that used to be a civil defense vehicle. There were rows and rows of Studebakers, a beautiful porthole Buick, Packards and Nashes and a Morris Minor minus its convertible top. The collection went on forever. These kinds of yards are all but extinct up here in salt country, so being able to spend at least five hours there on a snowy Friday was a lot of fun.
As for my new parts, the top of this nose is in rough shape, but I should be able to graft the bottom on to my existing sheet metal. The area around the turn signals on my truck is the worst rust besides the cowl vents I repaired last summer, so having some good metal to work with was worth the effort. I’ve got several taillight lenses, a perfect bucket, and several front lenses. And the ’62 grille and matching dual-light surrounds. All in all, not a bad haul.
Weekend Recap, 11.24
I spent Saturday down at Bob’s with my brother in law, working to get the Chrysler back in the garage. The engineering problem I faced was how to push a 4,300 lb. car back up a slight incline into the garage, while also moving it laterally by about ten feet. The solution I came up with involved a hammer drill, several concrete bits, lag bolts and barrels, and a cheap Harbor Freight winch with a remote.
After loading up on the supplies, Glen and I opened up the shiny new garage door and set up for the installation. I measured out two holes for the baseplate and had him start drilling while I assembled the winch. After a couple of tries with different bits and an adjustment in hardware which required a return trip to Lowe’s and a stopoff for tacos.
When we got back, the new bits we bought made relatively short work of 45-year-old concrete, and I was able to anchor the winch into the floor. I pulled the battery from the Chrysler and used that for power (it’s been on a tender since I bought it) and we played out the line to the back of the car. The winch wasn’t powerful enough to pull the car by itself, but with three of us pushing, it was the extra power we needed—as well as a safety measure in case the car got away from us. I hauled the wheel over hard to correct the position and then we pushed/pulled the car up about 3/4 of the way inside. With that done, we jacked up each corner and put it on the dollies so that we could push it to the far side of the garage, as out of the way as possible.
Sunday morning I got out to the Travelall and cleaned off the inside roof with acetone before covering the whole thing with Rust-Stop. While that cured, I pulled the driver’s wheel and cleaned the outside face of the driver’s inner fender with the wire wheel. That was covered with Rust Encapsulator, and while that dried I painted the frame with chassis black. And while the can was open I painted the frame on the passenger side where the gas tank will go.
Inside the cab, I used some chalk to mark out where the sound deadener was going to go, and cut a sheet of kraft paper to test the measurements. After some adjustments I flattened the first sheet out and aligned the center with the centerline of the roof, and peeled a little of the backing off to set it in place. It took some work to get everything oriented correctly, and then I peeled one side off to set it permanently. Give or take 1/8″ on either side, I got it aligned almost perfectly; using the long edge to align the second and third sheets, I made it to the back of the truck centered on the rear doors.
By that point it was getting dark and cold, so I closed up the truck and moved into the basement to work on the base of the rear bench seat. After reviewing some how-to videos to refresh my memory, I cut burlap, foam and carpet padding down to fit the seat and attached the burlap to the frame with some hog rings. Then I stretched the cover over the bench as best I could, working to get the scallops in the back edge into place.
Stretching the cover and clipping it in with the hog rings is exactly the same process as stretching a canvas or mesh for screenprinting: start at the middle of each edge and work your way outwards. Again, the trickiest parts were the indents where the seat is scalloped to avoid the wheel wells, but I realized I could compress the whole seat by kneeling on it and used that to pull the fabric around to the attachment bars.
Overall I’m pretty happy with the results for my first attempt. I put the carpet padding on top of the foam, but Jeff tells me it’s supposed to go underneath, which is what I’ll do with the upright part of the seat. For this I wanted it to be firm directly underneath, and I wasn’t aware there was a firmer foam available for the seat when I bought my materials. I’ve got to carefully add some small holes for the four hinge bolts and the bump stops, which makes me nervous, but Jeff tells me it should be fine.
So next up I have to disassemble the upright for the rear seat and prep it for covering, which means I have to hit it with the wire wheel and spray it down with Rust Converter.
I’m headed north to see my family for Thanksgiving, and there’s a junkyard near my sister’s house with some ancient IH iron, including this rusty Travelall panel truck. I’m not sure what to expect, but he says he’s got other IH stuff in there somewhere, so it should be a fun day for bushwhacking. I bought a cordless angle grinder on contingency but I’m going to leave it in the box so that I can return it if I don’t need it.
Looking at the dashboard, it’s a ’62 or earlier, so it’ll be interesting to get a look at the front clip. At first blush the stuff I see that would be worth something would be the barn doors, but they look pretty rough. Just looking at this photo, the things I see that might be worth picking would be:
- The barn doors, if they’re salvageable
- if not, the mechanisms—latches, the rear handle, etc.
- The windows
- Any of the chrome—the rear taillights, for example
- the rear doors, if they’re salvageable
- Any of the interior mechanisms from these doors—scissors, latches, etc.
- Chrome brightwork, interior steel surround
- Either of the bumpers, if they’re in good shape
- Front wing windows, if they’re OK.
- Steering wheel/column, if I can get it out
I have no idea what the rest of the truck looks like, but I’ll see when we get out there. And even if the whole thing is a wreck it’ll be fun to go looking.
Small Victories
It’s been dry and mild here in Maryland for the past three weeks. Sunny, uncharacteristically warm weather yielded three weeks to enjoy beautiful changing leaves; usually there’s one day of beautiful color, it rains, and the trees are gray and naked until March. There’s also been lots of dry sunlight to work on the truck in shirtsleeves. The forecast for Sunday, however, was for rain, so I decided to visit the local pick & pull for some parts before everything turned into cold soupy mud. I was on the hunt for an electric steering unit from a 2009-2013 Toyota Corolla, and the app told me they had two on the lot. I carried in a metric-based tool roll and impact driver, and found the first car after a few minutes of confusion. Someone had already pulled the dash mostly apart, and most crucially, pulled the lower linkage from the bottom of the steering unit. The second Corolla on the lot didn’t have electric steering assist at all. So I consulted the website for alternatives and found a donor 2009 Nissan Versa several rows over that hadn’t been touched. It only took me several minutes to deconstruct the dashboard to get to the motor, and after a half an hour I figured out how to get it detached from the wheel, off the dashboard, and on the floor. Then I put a socket on the bottom of the linkage and with one mighty pull, got it disconnected from the car.
Back at the house, I laid it out on the bench, tested the motor on 12V power, and verified it worked. Laying it out on the floor with the two columns I’ve got, I’m not sure if I can use either one to make a new unit, but I think the one from the green truck will be the best candidate. Most likely I’ll cut the shaft at the bottom to disconnect it from the power steering unit at the bottom and find a way to construct one good unit out of the two. We’ll see.
The theory here is to have a unit that doesn’t need a computer or any other input to regulate the motor; with no signal from the CAN BUS, the attached ECU (that silver box) will always provide average power assist and return the wheel to center at any speed in what’s called fail-safe mode; and if the motor fails, it just reverts to manual steering. This is what Brian has on his Scout and it’s pretty slick—and his unit was from a Versa as well. Having driven his truck with both the manual and the power steering I can say it makes a huge difference, which is why I’m pursuing this project.
With my welder down, I had to pivot to smaller projects. As mentioned earlier, I had a bunch of things I wanted to knock out, and I got a fair bit of them done. First, I decided to use locknuts and washers to button up my mirrors. It took some travel to find someone with the correct stainless hardware in stock, but once I had that I got the passenger side closed up and mounted on the truck with little hassle. I’m glad I pulled the driver’s side off, because when I went to take the nuts off the rod snapped on both sides as it had on the other one. This was easy to put together, and it mounted quickly. Now both sides of the truck have refurbished, adjustable, period-correct mirrors.
Finally, I started to hunt down live wires on the rear of the truck. There’s a trailer plug with a tangle of wires hanging below the hitch that I can’t identify, so I turned the marker lights on and tested them for continuity. Nothing seemed to work. Another rusted bulb was hanging under the truck, so I tried that one as well; no dice. Looking up. I remembered there was a mystery wire running out of the rear quarter into the back of the door, and put the test wire on that: power! And turning the markers off killed it. So I put a splice on the wire from the license plate holder, connected it to the mystery wire, and used some new stainless hardware to permanently mount the assembly to the rear door. So that’s one more requirement checked off for a street-legal truck; unfortunately now the headlights aren’t working and the front turn signals aren’t lighting. So there’s more work to do.
Providence
Currently, the garage is ABSOLUTELY full; there’s barely any room to walk in there right now. Part of this coming weekend is going to be consumed by pulling all of the parts out, re-organizing them, and finding different homes for some of the bulkier things. The hood from the Green truck is going to have to go out behind the garage, and my plan was to do a local search to see who had wooden pallets they wanted to sell within a 5-mile radius of the house.
Cut to this morning, on the way to drop Finn off at school, I noticed a pallet leaning up against the telephone pole two doors down from our house, where our neighbor will often leave things for free pickup. I got back home, parked the car, and hustled over there to grab it before it disappeared. Sometimes, providence smiles on us.
Two of the Scout doors are also going to go outside until Bennett can make some room for them, or I sell them elsewhere. I’ve got just enough room under one of the shelves to tuck all four Travelall doors away, and then I’ve got to find a better solution for some of the bins. I’ve currently got two Scout II rear benches, so one of those will go on Marketplace, to Nationals, or to the dump. Other than the axles, I’m about 95% done with getting the passenger side quarter panel off in one piece.
I got the lineset ticket for the Green truck on Monday evening, which was nice; I’d ordered it weeks ago but the Wisconsin Historical Society is pretty swamped, I guess. Looking through the list of options offered no real surprises: the engine and transmission are still the same, the fancy interior package is there, as is the upgraded heater. One thing did catch my eye, though, and that had me going back to the Red truck’s LST to compare: the Green truck has 3.54 gears while the Red truck has 4.10’s. What this means, roughly, is that the Green truck is set up better for highway cruising than the Red: a shorter gear will offer lower MPG and top speed. For example, I have a 3:54 rear in Peer Pressure, which allows that great hulking beast to do 70 MPH on the freeway with no real trouble, other than the fact that it’s as aerodynamic as a brick and the suspension is made for hauling gravel. If my plan for the Red truck is to make it a comfortable highway cruiser, I want tall gears to take advantage of the engine.
So, I started thinking about pulling the axle out of the Green truck before it leaves. It’s the same basic RA15 unit in both trucks, but the axle shafts are different (the Green truck ends with a 5×5.5 bolt pattern while the Red truck is 5×4.5) so a straight-up swap is out of the question at this point. I’d love to just yank it and then call the scrapper, but they generally want a vehicle to have two axles to easily drag onto a flatbed or hook up to a tow-behind. I’ve called around to a couple of scrappers in the area but they’re kind of dodgy on taking something without wheels. I’m going to keep calling and hopefully find someone up for the challenge.
I’ve had a standing store credit with IHPA after I returned some stuff last year, and now that the window is safely tucked away I figured I’d order some new rubber for it as well as the doors. When it gets a little reliably warmer outside I’m going to call the glass installer back and ask for the guy who put my replacements in last summer. Having new gaskets in both of the rear glass will go a long way to keeping things water-tight back there. The door rubber is another whole project, but once that’s in I won’t have to worry about leaks in the rest of the cabin.
Parts is Parts, Week One
I had a day of beautiful weather I wanted to take advantage of on Saturday, so I woke up early, walked the dog, and got my chores done early so I could get outside.
A lot of the highlights are covered in the video, but I’ll bullet-point them here:
- The three spare wheels I’ve been storing under the back porch for ten years, and often considered hauling off to the trash, came in super-handy for the Travelall: they’re the same bolt pattern and they all hold air, so I swapped out the shredded flats on the truck and got it off the ground. There’s still one that’s flat but I’m going to put the one good tire that came with the truck on there and shoot it with some stop-leak. This means that the wheels won’t fit the red Travelall and I can toss them all out when it’s time to get rid of this truck. The green truck now looks 6% less redneck.
- Jacking up the truck in back to swap said tires, I found that the top leaf in the driver’s spring pack was cracked in half. I may still try to pull those off to have re-arched at some point, but I have to measure them all first to see if they’ll fit the Red Bus.
- I tore the carpet off the floors front and rear, and found lots of rust underneath. There are two huge sections under the front seats that are completely gone, and giant patches of rust in the back. My tub is definitely in much better shape here.
- It always takes more time to get parts off a truck than you think. As long as I’ve been doing this, I’m always stupidly optimistic in terms of what I believe I can accomplish. Putting in a full day Saturday, I got all of the trim off, the roof rack removed, four aluminum sill plates, the visors and rearview mirror, the headlights, tail lights, and both front marker lights. And then I spent two hours getting the driver’s fender off. It’s in excellent shape and should clean up really well, so it was definitely worth it. I got about half the bolts off the passenger side before I had to pack things in; the most painful bolts need to soak in PBblaster for a week or so. Somehow I thought I’d have half the truck apart already.
- I’m going to have to hook a battery up to try and lower the rear window to get the gate open. The chances of this being successful are about 1000/1. When that doesn’t work, I’ll have to get a thick Phillips-head screwdriver on the 6-8 bolts at the bottom of the inside panel to get access to the motor. The chances of this being successful are 500/1. But the tailgate—and more importantly, the glass—are very much worth the effort. Jeff J. tells me the glass is curved and very hard to find.
- Jeff also tells me the power steering box on this truck won’t work on my truck; this truck (with IFS) has a boxed frame while mine is channeled, and there are differences in where the steering box goes and how it mounts. Rats.
- Also, the front grille assembly won’t fit my truck; the 1965+ trucks had a square opening in the sheet metal while mine is scalloped on the ends. Doesn’t matter, I’m taking it all off anyway.
- I pulled on the fan blade to see if the engine would turn, and it’s stuck tight. Once I can drain the radiator and pull that out, I’ll have room to see if I can get a socket on the crank bolt and put a breaker bar on it. Maybe I’ll pull the plugs and soak the cylinders in Marvel Mystery Oil; we’ll see.
- I wasn’t able to get the cowl cover off to put the borescope in to check out the vents down there, but judging by the rusted edges on each side and the pile of debris that fell out when I opened the driver’s vent, I’d guess they’re pretty well shot.
- I did a fair bit of ADHD scatterbrain picking before I settled down and focused on a few main items. I had actually written down a list based on a strategy of keeping the outer shell together to keep it looking respectable while I take all of the interior parts out, but hubris got the better of me. The driver’s fender is now hung with one bolt. I’m going to do the same with the passenger side, then work on the front clip. Inside the engine bay there are a lot of parts that will stay behind, and I’ll get as much as I can out of there before I start dismantling the interior.
So in rough order, here’s the basic plan:
- Get the passenger fender off
- Get the inner fenders ready to pull off
- Drain the coolant, and pull the radiator out
- Remove the heating box from inside the cab
- Pull the plugs and put some Marvel Mystery oil in the cylinders; see if the engine will turn
- Continue pulling the front cowl off
- Put a battery in and see if the rear window will go down
- If yes, then open the tailgate and get the glass out
- If no, then get a larger screwdriver and try to get the bolts off to open the access panel
- Remove the rear tailgate
- Pull the rear bumper off
- Remove the entire power steering assembly
- Pull the brake booster assembly
- Pull out the front bench and base
- Dismantle and remove the entire dashboard
- Pull the steering wheel out
- Pull out all internal trim
- Ceiling surround channel
- Extra ceiling hoops
- Armrests, other minor trim
- Pull the front bumper off
- Take the doors off
- Take the hood off
- Take the inner and outer fenders off
- Maybe pull the good leaf spring off?
New Seating
I put PT Cruiser seats in Peer Pressure seven years ago and I’ve never regretted the upgrade. They are comfortable over long distances, provide ample lumbar support, and are easy to clean—all things I’ve tested extensively. They sit two inches too high off the floor, but that’s something I’ve learned to live with for the moment until I get a pair of Binder Boneyard’s upgraded seat bases. The one thing I don’t like about them, now that I’ve switched almost everything else in the cab over to black, is their color. Chrysler made a bazillion PT Cruisers, and the majority of of them had gray cloth seats like the ones I’ve got. I set up an alert on my pick-a-part app to let me know when new stock rolls in the yards, and a flurry of them came in last week. Lo and behold, a gold 2005 came in and the VIN check said it had the correct upholstery. I got some basic tools together, loaded Hazel up into the Scout, and set out for Mt. Airy on Saturday morning to check it out.
I set her up in the truck with food, water, and a comfy blanket and set out for the yard. As I would have expected, the Chrysler section was all the way at the back of the lot, at the top of a hill, so I knew I’d be humping seats a long way. The car itself was in decent shape, and the seats were dirty but showed no major signs of damage, so I unbolted them both and hauled them up to the front desk in a wheelbarrow. Hazel was curled up on the passenger seat dozing in the sun.
The weather was so beautiful, we took a leisurely drive home through the country, stopping here and there for some photos. Back at the house, it was a pretty easy process to pull the old seats out and swap the new ones in on the bases. There are just two holes to drill at the front and everything bolts up smoothly. I hit them both with upholstery cleaner and some 409 on the plastics, and in about two hours I had them both installed.
They’re not perfectly black, but they look a million times better with the rest of the interior, and they should last a good long time.
Fresh Grille
On FBM earlier this week an ad went up offering several International D-series trucks and one sad Scout, warning that they would only be there until the weekend and then they’d go to the crusher. I reached out to the guy asking for some details and better pics of the Scout, and he and Bennett and I traded some messages until Friday, when he told us he’d dropped them off at his local pick and pull lot because the County was after him. Bennett and I hatched a rescue mission after my original plans for the weekend fell through, and today we made the trip.
The northern part of Maryland is absolutely beautiful this weekend, and the ride was relatively short to boot. The weather forecast called for rain in the afternoon so I repacked my tools in the CR-V. We were on the road by 7:30 and made it to the field an hour later.
The rigs were all crowded around the bottom of the intake area next to the crusher. After talking with the yard folks we carried some tools inside, waited for them to move things with a huge forkloader, and started picking. There were 4 D series trucks for Bennett to choose from: a flatbed, a pickup, a cab with no bed, and a bed with no cab. The most desirable piece from any of the trucks, a D Series hood in immaculate shape, had been removed and lay under the chopped cab on the floor of the flatbed—ouch. Bennett set to work freeing the only good fender on any of the trucks while I set to work pulling the grille from the Scout.
The Scout looked better in the photos (they always do) but had been crunched in the tailgate, leaving little good sheetmetal to pick from. The doors were trashed, the fenders were shot, and the traveltop, which looked clean in the pics, was too crusty to save (I had been thinking about how I could get it off and get it home if it had been in good shape). Most of the interior bits I’ve already got, and these were all Bordello Red to boot. Maybe the original radio would have been smart to grab, or the dashpad. I’ve got two A/C units now so I don’t need another. And there wasn’t enough time to break the doors down, although the hinge on the driver’s side broke as I tried to open it.
At about 11AM rainclouds rolled in and we spent an hour in a miserable downpour, covering our tools with tarps and trying to stay out of the muddy water running down the hill in rivulets. All of the bolts on the grille came off with little effort save two that were too rusted to secure with a pair of vice-grips. I borrowed a sawzall from the yard guys and chopped at the bolts until I could pound a smaller socket on them to grab. With those off, the whole piece came off cleanly with two of the three chrome trim rings and both headlight surrounds.
I got a clean passenger’s side fiberglas top insert (both of mine have been split on the bottom to get around the rollbar), two tailgate latch assemblies, a pile of steel marker lights, one good rear taillight bucket, two horns, a pile of emblems, and other miscellania. I forgot to grab the traveltop bolts over the windshield. It would have taken another couple of hours to grab other good things—the fan shroud (the rest of the engine looked like it had been soaking in salt water for a decade), the seat bases, gauges, switchgear, and steering wheel.
Bennett made out with a good driver’s fender, a pile of hubcaps, trim rings, side trim and other emblems, two hubs, IH-branded cab lights and side mirrors, and a pile of other stuff. If we weren’t cold, wet and hungry we could have stuck it out for another couple of hours, but we were all of those things and we are old. Up in the lot he was able to get a replacement taillight for his CR-V, and in the same car we found a Honda-branded rubber mat for the back of mine.
All told, the trip was cheap and fun, and it was great to hang out with Bennett and get dirty and not draw any blood wrenching on old rusty trucks. He’s got a line on some more near here that he’s trying to pin down, and if he can, another trip will be in the works.
Picking Gristle Off the Bone
I drove out to my friend Dave’s house in Flintstone Sunday morning to see if there was anything else I could pick off the Scout II and Scout 80 he’s got beached up on the hill behind his house. Picking parts is fun but also like walking into a loop in the time-space continuum: after the first two hours, you think you’re ahead of the game. By 4 o’clock, you’re racing the setting sun and scrambling to do a cost-benefit analysis to gauge what’s worth pulling before you have to leave, and you still have to figure out how to stuff it all in the vehicle you brought.
Both times I’ve been there before I scrambled for the whole day to pull as much as I could in the time that I had, and I always left thinking, “dammit, I meant to grab ____ and ____ and ____.” Looking over the photos before I left, I knew there wasn’t a ton of stuff left, but there were some things worth going back for. Scouts on the East Coast are getting rarer and rarer on the ground, so I’m trying to get what I can while it’s still available. Dave is a nice guy and knows his stuff isn’t going to roll across the stage at Mecum, so he’s fair on price and happy to lend a hand or grab a tool.
Originally I was going to drive the Scout, so I put the traveltop back on Friday night and prepped a set of recovery tools. When that was done I installed the liftgate gas struts from IH Parts America and marveled at how much nicer they feel than the old mechanical lift. I also put the pod on the roof of the CR-V to hedge my bets. The forecast was wishy-washy about rain and I didn’t want to drive out in the Scout if I was going to get caught in a downpour.
The morning looked lousy so I loaded up the CR-V and hit the road a little after 8. Dave hasn’t sold anything since the last time I was up there, so I was able to pick up right where I’d left off. I walked around both trucks and hit all of the target areas with PB blaster before I busted out the impact driver and a new set of bits. Over the course of the day I was able to grab:
- The entire dash assembly with all wiring and mechanical switches
- The windshield glass (the frame is beyond toast)
- Both slider windows
- The rear liftgate with glass—it’s not perfect, but it’s better than the spare I have, and has hinges
- Both door strikers (I’d tried to get these last time, but the impact driver today was clutch)
- The A/C box
- The hood catch/release mechanism
- The passenger fender—it’s crispy in areas but might be worth repairing in the future. This took too much time to remove.
- An entire Scout 80 folding windshield with glass (score!)
- Other bits and bobs I can’t remember
I had the hood off the 80 and ready to load up, but Dave asked to keep it over the engine to keep the rain off. I also asked him about the 80 doors but he was keeping those for parts for his running truck.
On the dammit, I meant to list:
- I tried my best to pull the dashboard from the 80 but it’s fastened with some of the largest, stickiest Phillips-head screws I’ve ever dealt with. I want the IH speedometer BAD but couldn’t figure out how to get that without destroying it.
- I also tried to get the steering wheel assembly out but was stymied by several bolts down at the steering box and one up under the fender.
- The cowl was cut for a plow years ago, but I tried to get that too. There are several bolts inside the fenders that were rusted solid. If I ever go back I’ll ask Dave if I can Sawzall it off the front.
- On the Scout II I got stuck pulling the emergency brake assembly off—the brakes are likely frozen and I couldn’t get any slack to release the cable.
- The transmission tunnel cover—the automatic shift lever assembly gave me fits
- I meant to grab the power steering pump but ran out of time there as well.
I was pretty amazed that I was able to fit it all in the CR-V; if I’d taken that hood and door it would have been a very tight fit. As it was the pod came in super-handy: I put both the liftgate and the 80 windshield up there, freeing up space for the other bulky stuff in back. Driving home, covered in grease, PB blaster and dirt, I was happy to have gone back out and grabbed some of the last best junk before the snow started blowing and it all rusted away even further.
Inventory
Like the rest of America, I’ve been chained to my desk indoors all winter, waiting for warmer weather and the chance to get outside and pursue my hobbies in some semblance of normalcy. Being chair-bound for weeks has been bad for my health, both mental and physical. Jen says I’ve been cranky for a while. It’s taking longer and longer to leave work behind, even though it’s only steps from the living room. My neck has been bothering me for months, and my right shoulder and arm are aching each night as I store up stress—further irritated by clacking a mouse around a desk during endless Zoom calls.
Knowing the weather was going to be sunny and warm this week, I took a mental health Wednesday, loaded up the CR-V with recovery tools, and hit the road for Western Maryland. The Scout I pulled the doors from was still sitting up in the woods, and Dave, the owner, had reached out to see if I wanted anything else before it got hauled off to the crusher. I’d looked it over when I was out there the first time but had run out of warm daylight to really focus on stripping it and I knew there were a bunch of other things I wanted to grab.
I got out to Flintstone at 11 AM and met Dave in his driveway. I’d intended on bringing him coffee for the morning but missed my chance to pull off into a town big enough to feature a coffee shop—Flintstone has one general store and no traffic lights—so I was empty handed when I masked up and walked out to greet him. He was busy getting his garage straightened up and told me I had free rein on the Scout and to holler if I needed anything.
I backed the CR-V up the hill and organized my tools for the jobs at hand. Then I busied myself with hosing all of the problematic parts with PBlaster and waiting for that to do its magic. While that was working I started with the low-hanging fruit: light buckets, emblems, any moulding I could get off (not much), simple dash parts, and other small items. The whole hood was already off the truck so that got set aside and I had full access to the engine bay, where two of my main targets lay: the steering column and the power steering box. This Scout was a 4-cylinder so there was plenty of room to work: it’s essentially a V-8 with the driver’s side cylinder bank chopped off, so there’s a huge empty space over the steering column. After some basic wrangling I got one of the two bolts on the rag joint off, but the other refused to budge; taking a break, I went inside the cab and disassembled the dash so I could get the plastic surround off the column and remove the mounting bolts underneath.
Waiting for more penetrant to work, I went to the tailgate and picked that clean: I got the entire latch mechanism, both latch arms, the button, and the license plate mount (a hinged model, something desirable).
Moving back to the engine bay, I put a pair of vice-grips on the stubborn rag joint bolt and was able to separate it from the PS box, and with that I got the entire steering column out. The PS box was next; after some work on the cotter pin and castle nut I was able to separate the drag link and then get the entire unit off the frame.
While I was working one of Dave’s friends wandered up the hill and struck up a conversation: a nice man named Paul told me through a thick accent that he was a farrier and had worked on horses from Syracuse down to Virginia and everywhere in between. Fascinated, I listened to him tell stories of helping fix horses as I pulled the dashboard apart.
By 4:30 I was winding down. The heater box was rusted through along the bottom and I had no way of getting the rest of it off without taking a sawzall to the outer fender (which I didn’t have) so I left that. Packing up my gear, I drove back down the hill and made a deal with Dave for the parts I’d gotten. Then I asked if he was scrapping the old Scout 80 carcass I’d parked next to up the hill, and if I could pull the E-brake assembly off for Brian, whose pretty Scout 800 did not come with one. Some short work with the impact driver and some wrenches and it was in my hands. Walking back down the hill I spied a beat-up early 80 tailgate—the one with the embossed IH logo, not the Scout script—and made a deal for that too.
With everything packed away in the CR-V, I hit the road and made it home at dusk for dinner with the girls. As I sped back down I-70, stinking of PBblaster, power steering fluid, and fresh dirt, I realized I had no pain in my shoulder, arm, or neck, and that I was recharged by being outside in the sunshine, working on my own time, doing something I love.So here’s a list of the haul from Flintstone, so that I’ve got a record of what I dragged home.
In no particular order:
- The steering wheel—I got the entire thing all the way to the steering box, and I even found the horn button on the floor
- The plastic steering wheel column cover, in black
- The steering box—Got it, along with one chewed up castle nut.
- The lower tailgate latch assembly—I took some time and got the latch, the button, both rods and latch arms
- One of the latch arms from the liftgate
- 4 bolts where the windshield connects to the roof
- The washer bottle—this came off cleanly, along with the little hoses to the squirters (Mine got squashed last summer)
- Hubcaps—I found one front and one rear.
- The coolant overflow tank—although all of the mounting tabs crumbled when I pulled it off
- Light buckets—I got three good side markers and one taillight lens, along with one front turn signal. The rest were trashed.
- Both of the 1978 headlight surrounds—the grille was in pieces on the ground underfoot
- The complete dome light assembly
- The automatic transmission shift cover
- Another glovebox door
- All of the dash gauges, and the dash surround (although that is chewed all to hell; I have three spares in the basement)
- The ashtray—apart from two stubbed-out butts, this is in perfect shape
- The license plate assembly—it’s a hinged model
- two sets of sun visors, both somewhat swollen, and all associated hardware
- A rusted but recognizable tailgate from a 1961 Scout 80, with the IH logo embossed. What I’ll do with this I don’t know, but I got it for nothing.
- An emergency brake setup from the same ’61, which Brian can use in his 800.
The stuff I wasn’t able to get, based on my original list:
- Both front hubs—Dave wanted to keep these with the axles, so I left them.
- The heater motor unit—this was trashed underneath and I didn’t have the time to dig deeper.
- Inner fenders—completely trashed.
- Door strikers from both sides—of four bolts I was only able to get one to budge, after repeated abuse with the impact driver.
- The transmission tunnel cover—this Scout came with factory air, which meant the A/C ducting prevented me from getting the top two bolts off the cover.
- Rear armrests—both of these were moldy black. No thanks!
- Side moulding—someone had come along and stuck a sheet metal screw in the middle of each of these, presumably to hold them on, which had then rusted to the body. I was able to get one off cleanly, but the rest are still on the truck.
- The interior fiberglas panels—both of these were drilled for janky-looking shoulder belts, and there was a wood block drilled into both of them in the back. I passed. I’ve got a spare set in the garage attic.
- The cowl cover—the bolts holding this on were rusted solid. I have a spare from the Wheaton scout.
- Â Evap gear from the rear access port—not enough time to get into this
- The slider windows—here I also ran out of time.
- The windshield—this was actually in decent shape, but there wasn’t enough time. I’d go back out there for the glass before he scraps it, if someone else wanted to join me.
As for me, my soft desk hands are covered in annoying little cuts. I’ve got two particularly annoying gashes right above the nail on my left middle finger and the top of my right thumb (the kind that catch on the pocket of your jeans or get wet and open back up doing the dishes). I have an abrasion along my right wrist up to my elbow. I’ve got a 2″ gash on the top of my left knee from the old Scout 80; if I get lockjaw in the next couple of days I’ll know where that came from.
So now I’ve got to dig out the bins and organize everything into their right place (there’s one bin for exterior parts, one for interior parts, one for electrics, etc.) The steering wheel will be disassembled so that I can see if the turn signal canceling cam is intact; if so that’ll go into Peer Pressure with a new lockset. Knowing how all of that comes apart on a spare will keep me from completely trashing my working setup.
The power steering pump will get hosed with Simple Green and then powerwashed to the bare metal; this will be set aside for a core trade-in when I order whatever new pump I buy. I’ve also got several starters and one brake booster that might fetch $20/each for a core charge.
The 1980 light surrounds, transmission cover, and hubcaps will probably go up for sale, along with the other shifter cover and OEM center console I’ve got sitting on the shelf.
It’s funny—for a while, I’ve looked back on parting out the Wheaton Scout and wondering why I didn’t pull more off that rig; having just spent the good part of a day wrestling with this truck (both of them equally rusty) I think I may have gotten less from this one than I did from that one. And I was better prepared this time. Maybe it’s because I spent a lot of time on the steering gear.