This Sunday A. and B.H. met me up in Finksburg to finish hauling off an engine and a top from the seller we’d visited last weekend, and within about an hour’s time we had a 345/727 combo loaded onto a trailer, with three spare tire/rims and a Traveller top secured over everything. After a brief detour to pick up another 727, we headed down to A’s shop to begin disassembly of the roller Scout in earnest.

In about four hours’ time, we got:

• The engine stripped down (it’s waterlogged and stuck, so the distributor is stuck)
• The hood, inner fender, heater box and grille off
• The windshield off (it’s in great shape minus a little rust around the edges)
• The top unsecured (it’s also in great shape, even though it doesn’t have any gasketry)
• The dash completely broken down–lots of good spares there
• The emergency brake assembly out
• The rear driveshaft mostly disconnected (the U-bolts are gunked up)
• The tailgate off and stripped (the license plate assembly came off with a chisel and the latch mechanism popped out easy as pie)
• The doors removed (they are in decent shape, although there’s some rust around the inside bottom metal)
• The door hinges off
• Some of the evap/emissions gear off
• The fuel filler neck off-B.H. will use it to replace a wonky fiberglas filler neck in his rig, which is awesome

Meanwhile, A. had already started unloading the parts that were inside the rig, and it was amazing how much stuff kept coming out. Under the spare fenders we’d piled in back, there were

• Four chrome bumpers (plus the two on the rig)
• Two hood mount bars
• Four fenders, two right and two left-including one exceptionally clean passenger side that was an unknown bonus (it was under the Traveler top, and B. and I never saw it until the day we hauled it away)
• The other inner fender from the roller
• A complete interior AC unit, including uncut hoses
• Assorted side trim
• Another heater box
• Assorted door glass
• Assorted electrical gear-two looms, one from a late-model rig with large fusebox
• A 4-bolt clutch fan
• A set of engine plastics in good shape
• Spare gas tank evap gear

This doesn’t include the five crates of other parts we got, plus other gear that was in the front of the rig. I know there’s a bunch of other stuff I’m forgetting, but that’s off the top of my head. I left my camera down at A’s shop, otherwise I’d post some pictures here.

Sunday morning Mr. Scout and I coaxed a few local Scout guys out of bed to drag a carcass out of the woods and onto a U-Haul with us. We pushed, pulled, and winched a tired but pickable ’74 (304/unknown 4-speed/44’s) stuffed with all kinds of parts, a spare 304 and 345 (with 727), several seats, Traveller doors and a good hatch, and boxes of spare parts filled with stuff we haven’t had the time to go through yet. Another friend was kind enough to offer up his shop for temporary storage until we can pick it clean and divvy up the pile.

We still have to return for the 345 and possibly some miscellaneous parts, but overall the day went very smoothly-anytime the seller and his wife invite you in for coffee after you’re covered in sweat and grease, it’s a good thing. Mr. Scout earned his CDL by not only driving the trailer down a long curved driveway and backing it out, but then by turning it around and backing it down again to line up the Scout. Wisely, we didn’t repeat our trailer mishap from January-we opted for an electric winch over a running start.

Next up, we’ll return for the other engine, and begin disassembly of the parts rig.

Over the last couple of months, between two different Scouts, I was able to scavenge a right and left window regulator to replace the rusted, frozen metal in this rig. I had to finally grind a bolt off of one of the spare doors to free up the passenger side, and I got a clean regulator for the driver’s side from the white scout a few weeks ago. After a careful wire brushing, I got the rust, paint, mud, and gunk off of the metal and made it ready for paint.

Update 7.26: I installed the driver’s side regulator on Saturday, and it made a huge difference with raising and lowering the window. I wasn’t sure I had it correct at first, but a little troubleshooting ensured a proper fit.

So, to recap, I had some alarming issues come up with the throttle last weekend on my return from a dump run. Specifically, I lost about 40% of my available power on the way home, out of the blue, with no advance warning. As it turned out, the issue was not with the carb or the engine, which I feared, but with the throttle cable itself. There’s a trio of clamps which theoretically hold the cable into place, but up until last weekend, the vendor’s sticker was the only thing keeping it from moving as the throttle advanced.

Sunday I got a little time while Finn was asleep to poke around under the hood, and I made a fix to the third clamp in order to keep it from advancing: about four winds of electrical tape under the clamp now hold it in place without binding the cable. I took it out for a test spin and everything seems to be fine again.

So, last week, I repaired the hose from the inlet tube to the gas tank, which had rotted out and was leaking. I figured, since I’d driven at least 75 miles since last putting gas in the tank, that I’d need some more. (The gauge reads empty). At the filling station down the street, the pump clicked off several times after only five gallons, and since my old Scout did this routinely on an empty tank, I thought nothing of it—until I heard the spatter of gas on the pavement below.

This time, it was a smaller hose the PO had used to plug off two of the evap tubes; I’d filled the tank to the top and now the little 3/8″ hose (which is at the high end of the tank) was leaking. Swell.

I returned home to see if there was anything I could do; I didn’t have any tape that would stand up to gasoline handy, so I decided to drive it to the dump (the entire bed was full of debris I’d loaded previously) and burn off some gas. After a brief stop at the Home Depot to pick up a fire extinguisher (the thought of cooking off while motoring down the highway was foremost in my mind), I waited in a mercifully short line at the dump and got rid of another load of crap.

On my way out, I quickly noticed something peculiar with the gas pedal; it was closer to the floor than it had been minutes before. I was still getting throttle enough to make it into 4th gear, but my speed topped out at 45mph or so with the pedal to the floor, far short of the 65 I’ve had it at before (I’ve never had the hammer all the way down before this).

Checking the linkage, I don’t see anything loose with the connection at the firewall, on the pedal itself, or up to the first mount on the carb. I’m dealing with a Carter Thermoquad, something I have no experience with (my old Scout had a Holley 1920 on a 2-barrel 304; this is a 4-barrel 345). Bad linkage? Bent pedal?

My first thought is the linkage itself. The wires and connections are tight, but perhaps something came loose in the carb iself. The throttle cable is brand-new (still has the vendor sticker wrapped around the sleeve) so I know it can’t be that. This is going to take some sleuthing by mechanics smarter than I.

I drive into work yesterday to take advantage of the sunlight and warm weather, and the old girl did not let me down. She fired right up in the morning and I got out onto I-95 grinning from ear to ear. Larger bumps send her into a bit of a panic, because the shocks and springs are so tight any sudden movement gets transmitted and amplified by the short wheelbase and stiff suspension. I have to be very careful with the steering, as well—there’s a bit of play, and then when it starts turning, it’s turning.

In the parking garage I had a bit of a scare when I drive up to the height warning sign and could touch it with my entire palm from the driver’s seat, but we squeaked under it with inches to spare.

I had to drive out to Ellicott City after work to get some paperwork notarized, and enjoyed the scenic route by the river. There is still some question as to how much gas she needs to start; I’m averaging about 10 pumps of the pedal to coax her to life each time, which is concerning. The carburetor is a Carter Thermoquad, which will obviously need some attention in the near future. (I’d love to ditch it and go to a Holley 2300, but that may need to wait until money is not so tight).

I want to learn to weld like this.