The other thing I found out was that I installed the Tuffy console too far back, so the fold-and-tumble is more like a fold-and-lean. So I’ll have to consider drilling new holes sometime in the future.

The other day, while waiting at a stoplight, I happened to notice the small headphone jack on the faceplate of the RoadGear (Wal-Mart) brand radio in the Scout. Intrigued, I filed this away for future investigation.

This afternoon, I pulled a 4″x6″ speaker from a spare dash and plugged it in to one of the lamp cord speaker wires coiled on the floor and tested the radio out. Success! I was pulling in stations, which means A. the antenna is connected, and B. there’s power to the unit. It even turns off when the key is out, which means it’s connected to the accessory circuit correctly. Next, I plugged my spare iPod into the jack and held my breath. Success! The headphone jack auto-switches to the accessory (something the fancy-shmancy Kenwood in the Jeep can’t do).

Lastly, thinking I was pushing my luck, I tried plugging the iPod charger into the cigarette lighter to see if it still carried power. Success!

I can hardly believe it. Now, to find a cheap pair of 6×9 speakers to cover up the big jagged holes in the rear walls.

Peer Pressure is back on the road and running like a top. After a long three weeks at the mechanic, the carburetor problem was finally solved; the reason for the leakage was a set of tiny O-rings which were actually supposed to be X-rings. Once he’d torn it down for the fifth time and put them in, she buttoned up and ran like an excited puppy at the edge of an empty field. I’ve had her out on several junk runs, a trip to the Home Depot, a trip to Columbia, and into Baltimore City on a day with record-setting heat, and the temp gauge stays obediently on the left side of the indicator. She starts with one twist of the key and idles like a satisfied kitten. Best of all, the obnoxious stink of gasoline and rich exhaust is almost completely gone—there’s less exhaust backwash on this truck than there was on Chewbacca, as a matter of fact.

A little backstory: In order to get the latch body out, the window needs to come out, and then the guide track closest to the handle. One bolt on my track was pretty well frozen but a little PBBlaster made short work of the other three. Once I had the track pulled away from the edge, the latch came free, and I compared it with another one I had in my spares (it’s the one on the right). Somehow the cam had gotten completely turned around and jammed itself into place. It had been “repaired” at some point in order to fasten the main pivot arm into place with a flattened bolt and nut, and the clip holding the door release rod was long gone—so they replaced it with a locknut hastily threaded onto the end of the rod. Instead of wasting time trying to fix the original, I shot the spare up with plenty of white lithium and used that instead.

While the driver’s door bolts were soaking, I tore the passenger door down and pulled the original regulator in there out. It looks to be a replacement unit like the ones sold by LightLine dealers (some of the original paint is still evident under the rust). I dropped the new one in, greased it up, buttoned the door back up, and then remembered that I need to tighten the outer door handle. D’oh! Eventually the window will need to come out and be replaced, because there’s some serious rust happening at the bottom of the channel on the inboard side, but that’s why I’ve got spares.

I also finished fabricating a strap stay for the bikini top out of a cut-down decking bracket and bolted that into place, as well as replaced six of the original grade 5 bolts holding the rollbar down with grade 8 hardware. I still have to drill four holes for bolts at the feet of the rollbar, which were never installed (there are only two on each side).

Finally, I’m going to order a ThermoQuad rebuild kit today. Wish me luck!

He had this stuff called white lithium grease, which sprayed out of a can, and which worked incredibly well to lubricate the regulator mechanism. I’m going to go look for some this week so that I can tear both my doors down and get the windows working correctly. It made a huge difference rolling the window up and down. I was also very impressed with his PT cruiser seats, which are incredibly comfortable, and which I’m now considering for Peer Pressure. As I documented here, though, there are a few caveats to this upgrade:

• His came with captains’ armrests on the inboard side, which interfered with his Tuffy console. I think we used a Torx 45 bit to pull them off, as well as the female side of the seatbelt buckles, which are also built into the side of the seat. The driver’s side needs some kind of plastic plate to cover over the bolt mounting cutout, while the passenger’s side had one built into the seat. Strange.
• The driver’s side seat does not lean forward at all. Rear passengers will need to enter on the passenger side (where the seat folds forward almost flat, which is very cool).
• If you run a stock full-size wheel without a tilt column, there isn’t a whole lot of clearance between the bottom of the wheel and the top of the seat. You will probably need to switch out the wheel to a Rallye-style or an aftermarket Grant model.

After some lunch, I busied myself by helping to install his Tuffy console between the seats. We scribed out an arc in the rear mount to clear the transmission tunnel (something I’m also considering for mine) and set it in place with two bolts we had on hand. Meanwhile, Alan sorted out a bunch of electrical gremlins under the hood and helped get the license plate holder we scavenged from the brown donor scout mounted and lit.

Before I had to hit the road, we fired her up and Brian let me take her for a spin around the block. She purrs like a kitten, and with a little adjustment in the clutch and carb she’ll be a very enjoyable driver. It felt good to take her out again, even if she’s 3/4 new fabrication!

In brighter news, the top is off and stored in the basement for the summer, and the bikini top has returned!

After that, we move on to the carburetor. The mechanics tightened the Thermoquad down and plugged up a vacuum hose that was open, and the engine sounds a heck of a lot quieter now. They warned me about gas leakage from the carb, though, and suggested a rebuild ASAP, which has been on my radar since the day we got the truck started. I’ve been doing some research into rebuilding the Thermoquad, and from what I’ve read it sounds like a hassle to get dialed in correctly (and moreso to find someone competent enough to do so).

So I think my plan of action will be to buy a new or rebuilt Holley 2300 series and install that in place of the Thermoquad. From what I’ve heard the 2300 is more common, easier to work with, and generally a friendlier unit to n00bs like me. IHOnly North is offering rebuilt carbs for a decent price, and I will definitely give them a ring when I’m ready to swap out what I’ve got.

The mechanic also mentioned the leaky carb, and they tightened the bolts while they had the hood open, which was nice of them. The result of that is an excessively low idle, basically one step above stalling—but the carb isn’t leaking as much as it was. My next major outlay will be to have the carb rebuilt professionally, something I hope to have done in the next month or so.

As with most things, I plunged into it without really thinking the procedure through completely. My sister and I got the leaky pump off, and after much cursing, were able to lift it completely out with the fan shroud (The top filler neck was in the way, of course). Once I’d gotten it off completely, I noticed that it was three-pulley while the backup fan was a dual-pulley. Now, I could have run the engine without the AC compressor (which is what I believe the pump in the foreground of the picture below is), but I thought it would be better to leave everything the way I found it.

So, with some trepidation, I RTV’d the new gasket I had on the original pump and we settled it back into place. My plan for tonight is to tighten up the pump bolts, replace the upper hose clamps, tighten down the compressor and alternator brackets, make sure the distributor cap is tight, fill the radiator back up, and get it started. Tomorrow morning at dawn, I’m going to throw my bike in the back and haul ass down the street to Ridgeway Automotive in the hopes that the fine folks there can diagnose the problem once and for all.

In happier news, I think I’ve got the bolts I need for the Tuffy console–and they’re all stainless steel.

Hoses tight: check. Coolant level: check. Gas in the carb: check. Fire extinguisher: check. Of course, I left the window up, so if there had been a fire, the balky linkage would have ensured a few moments of panic as I tried to get the window down to reach the outer door handle (the inner latch is off the door right now) but that’s all just details. Three tries and she fired right up, idling smoothly for having sat dormant since October.

I backed her out of the garage and almost took the driver's rearview off the door (the doors weren't open wide enough, because they're backed in with 3' of snow) after shifting into 4hi—the rear wheels just spun on the cold ground. After idling for about 5 minutes the temp gauge didn't rise off the left peg, so I think she needs a good ten minutes of running time before I know if anything is fixed or not. But just to have her out of the garage again is a huge relief.

While I was out there, I swapped out the green dashpad for the new black one I bought from Karl, which sure does look better with purple.