If you have ever used POR-15 before, you likely have learned three things:
A) It’s pretty darn awesome stuff if you live in a place where rust exists. (I’m looking at you New England.)
B) You do not want to get it on your person. While it doesn’t have the ungodly hell-fire burning sensation that “Aircraft Remover” does, it does have an unbelievable sticking ability to humans.
C) If you get the POR-15 between the can and the lid, and then seal the can, your all done. The can will never EVER reopen without the use of a sawzall, a 20 ton press, and a log splitter…
Today I have the solution for letter “C”, because I’m not completely sure that humans have the technology to conquer “B” yet.
Now, since I’m extraordinarily cheap, and …well… yeah I guess that’s the only reason, I don’t ever buy the proper paint pouring device for these paint cans (yes, I realize that they are like $1). So I have been forced to develop an amazingly complicated (that’s a lie) method of preventing this paint-lid-non-removal conundrum. It’s what I like to call “tape”. Yes, I put tape on the can folks. It allows me to clean off my brush if I have too much of the good stuff on it, AND it makes clean-up effortless. Maybe you already do this, and I’m living my life pre-Y2K, but hey maybe not. I don’t know. But for that one guy that hasn’t tried this yet, I recommend it. Old news? Cool idea? You decide.
Who needs a truck when you can have a Prizm? A friend of mine spotted this the other day while on the highway. Call me crazy, but those are probably the biggest tires ever “on” a Prizm. I’m sure that 1 strap is holding those tires on extra tight.
Over the weekend I went to the Summer Nationals in Worcester MA (pronounced “Woostah” FWIW). Saturday was 90+ degrees and the dark clouds were becoming slightly threatening. Luckily, the car, truck, and motorcycle enthusiasts didn’t seem bothered by it. Speaking of motorcycles… I found one that I really liked while I was there. When it idled past me through the show, I did a triple-take because I couldn’t believe what the heck I was looking at. This guy had a 6 cylinder motorcycle (probably 1000cc’s worth), with a big supercharger strapped to it. Simply… Awesome. And the sound of it… It sounded like it was running on TNT filled popcorn in a closed garage full of angry vacuum cleaners. If anybody at the show deserved some high 5’s and free iced cold bottled waters, it was this guy. This thing was winning.
The roof of the 1972 Nova project is finally wrapping up, so I decided to tackle the rocker panel next. It was rough. Like… really rough. The outer rocker panel was missing, along with the lower fender mount and the inner bracing that keeps everything structurally sound. Repairing it was not the easiest thing that I have ever done.
The first step was to cut away all of the rotted metal until you find a solid base to work with. Then, since nobody makes replacement metal for this area, I had to fabricate my own. I started with the inner bracing since that was the deepest part. This piece was more complicated than I expected, because it is actually the lowest portion of the inner kick panel. (Think about that for a moment.) That interior kick panel metal goes down through the floor pan, and into the rocker where all of these different pieces meet up in harmony. To get the rusty section out, I had to cut a section out of the newly replaced interior floor pan, along with all the metal on the outside. Once I had it out, I grabbed some flat metal and started fabricating the piece that I needed. Since nobody likes reading, here is the story in the form of pictures. Enjoy, and leave some comments so that I know somebody is here besides me.
One thing that you never, ever, ever, ever…ever see is a totally uncut 1949-51 Mercury 2 door. They basically don’t exist in real life anymore because every person that has ever owned one has chopped the roof, slammed it to the pavement and turned it into a lead sled. Do I blame them? Not really. As I do enjoy some lead sleds. I do find it slightly sad that these cars have become so rare though, because even in factory gear, they sure are sharp.
If there is one thing in life that everybody in the world can agree on, it’s Lincoln Zephyr’s. Everybody on this giant, soaking wet planet loves an old Zephyr. That’s is a fact! This one? It was in…credible! Say this next part out loud slowly so that you really feel it – Running V12. Solid original steel. 1955 window sticker. Original spare tire. “Hoover for president” license plate. And, never ending class that post Y2K humans don’t even know about. Yes, this car was mint-colored automotive lovin’ for sure. Why didn’t I buy it? I don’t have any idea. Dumbest move ever. Thanks for reminding me.
Worth noting: Someday, I’m going to learn how to use a camera.
Two weeks ago, I repaired the rear section of the “new” roof on the 1972 Nova project. This past weekend, I focused on the front passenger A-pillar, because like the rear, it was also trash. I began by cutting the rotted metal out with the cut off wheel. I then bent a piece of steel at a 90 degree angle with a hammer & vice. From there, I shrank the metal, which caused it to beautifully curve. Then it was just a matter of MIG welding it to the existing roof and a-pillar, and grinding it smooth. Once I am totally happy with it, I’ll soak the inside of it with some type of coating to prevent rust. After all, that’s what got us here in the first place.
Also – If you are enjoying this build, hating this build, have a question, or want to just shoot the breeze with us, leave a comment below. Without comments, we never know if this sort of topic is loved or hated!