The Reality and Rebirth of a Third-Gen F-Body:

Doing a project car from a small town in Nevada would be something entirely different, something entirely real world. After a 22-year absence from performance wrenching, I would be able to approach this project like a novice. I could report the real problems, the real costs, the real time involved, and whether or not the concept of a mail-order hot rod that could be built anywhere, by someone with a full-time job, was practical. I may have been a magazine hero in the ’70s, but now I was just a stroke in the desert.

The first phase of the project was the design, which had to be low-buck. For a cost-effective powerplant, nothing tops the small block Chevy. The car would have to be reasonably current and have creature comforts-air conditioning, automatic trans, and so onto serve as a daily driver. By circumstance, the car that leaped to the top of the list was a third generation (’82-’92) GM F-body. They are plentiful, cheap, and still look good. Performance parts are readily available, and the Z28 or Trans-Am versions offer decent acceleration and handling.

In my case, fate intervened. A friend of a friend said he had the perfect car for me: his son’s. “I think it’s a Firebird, and I think it has a blown engine. I don’t know what year it is.” He didn’t have to say more. I bought it sight unseen for a C note, and soon an ’83 Trans Am was loitering in my driveway. The body was straight, rust-free, and recently painted. The interior was passable. The battery was dead. I contacted the last mechanic to work on the car. He confirmed the blown engine (I later saw the rod sticking through the oil pan) and suggested that I not put too much into the car. “It looks pretty good from three rows back in the grandstands.” I later saw the evidence of major bodywork, and it became abundantly clear that the 86K on the odometer was the second time around.

My objective was to attain the performance of a new Trans Am, or better, at a fraction of the cost. Since I do maintain a sense of social responsibility and wanted to register the car with the DMV, it had to remain emissions-legal. The standard 305 engine would never cut it, so I found a 350 truck motor for $100-I figured that this was at least the value of a core, so I put it in the back of my daughter’s pickup and dragged it home. Mistake. The only thing I ultimately used was the block, and I probably could have gotten a four-bolt version for that money. With a bit of planning, I would have saved myself some time, at least.

Now I needed a master plan and to decide what pieces would facilitate it. I read a Summit Racing Equipment catalogue, and it made me realize that there was a lot to know before picking up the phone, so first I ordered a couple of books on rebuilding the small block Chevy. Then I got a factory shop manual, an invaluable asset for the territory where I was headed. I read current issues of HOT ROD, Car Craft, and Chevy High Performance and any other source I could find. This is very important, as you will refer to these manuals many times during the buildup. If you’re not really experienced with cars, don’t dismay. Read as much as you can and spend time around folks who work on cars. You’ll be amazed at how much you can learn from just washing parts for your local mechanic (my first job in grammar school).

As my plan took shape, I searched for a machine shop to blueprint and balance the engine. This required travel to Las Vegas. I found Vegas Machine, which campaigned a car in the NASCAR Featherlight circuit, so I figured they would know how to prepare a performance engine. I described Project Midlife Crisis to the owner, and his response was beautiful: “We must get one guy like you a week in here.” Now I knew I was on to something.

At this point, I contracted the dreaded project car affliction: The Might-As-Well Syndrome. The counter guy at Vegas Machine asked: “Why don’t you put a stroker in it?” Suddenly I was a kid again. I was reading HOT ROD about stroked flatheads-the Holy Grail of power. I saw this parting of the clouds in the sky, and a shiny crank reflecting the light of the sun. I nonchalantly responded, “Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

After all, I thought, as long as I am going to build an engine, I Might-As-Well make it a stroker. I drew up a list of things that I would need from Summit and added its affordable stroker crank. Another mistake. I should have discussed this change with the company’s expert tech line. I ordered what I thought I needed, but I didn’t know that I needed to order the (absolutely essential) externally balanced 400ci vibration damper and flexplate. Simply asking “what do I need to put a stroker crank in my 350” would have allowed me better planning and cost control. Later, I discovered that it is important to compare all the new parts with the old ones. The 400 flexplate has a diameter of 14 inches, rather than the 12X inches of the 305. This meant that the stock starter and transmission dust cover wouldn’t fit. Add another call to Summit to order a high-torque starter and scour the junkyard for a dust cover. In short, almost everything that you change has an impact on every other part. The pros know what you will need, so please ask them! And never throw out the old parts. I guarantee you’ll regret it. You never know at what stage you will need to stop and compare.

Using a systems approach, Edelbrock’s concept of complete Performer Power Packages makes a lot of sense. My ’77 project car was successful because the Edelbrock folks picked the parts for me. Nowadays, they do it for everyone. You can buy a street-legal package consisting of an intake manifold, a camshaft, a valvetrain, a timing chain, headers, and an exhaust system. Since they are all dyno-tested to work as a whole, it will be one less thing to worry about. The tech staff mandated only one change: I needed the Performer-Plus cam for the 400 to take advantage of the increased displacement in my stroked 350 (at 0.040 over, it becomes a 385ci engine). They also suggested the extra heat from the bigger engine might require a better water pump in the Nevada desert. I added one of their aluminum high-flow pumps along with a high-flow thermostat to my Summit list.

When I asked about the viability of the Rochester Quadrajet carb, they recommended I keep it, but suggested Jet Performance Products, in Huntington Beach, California, for a rebuild and resetting. Jet told me that with the stroker, it could also provide a custom chip for the engine control module, so I sent in my old carb and ECM, along with answers to the sheet of questions to permit proper calibration. A week later, the stuff came back looking like new.

The only stipulation from Ro was that “We don’t need another small-block buildup.” With that direction, I’ll skip th stuff about putting the engine together and getting it into the car. You can get a lot more detail from the same books I read. In stead, here’s what you really need to know about building a project car. Before you take anything apart, read about the components and the system in the factory shop manual and a Haynes or Chilton manual. The factory manuals are more complete, but lack the photos of the other two. Knowing how the part works with the other related components will help you put it back together and give you the satisfaction of knowing what it does. A project car is a learning experience, so you are supposed to enjoy this part of it.

Your camera and your books are absolutely the most important tools you have. Take your time disassembling the car and snap photos as you go. It’ll probably be many months before you put things back together, and the photos will save you lots of consternation and wasted time. This is especially important for ’80s cars and their electromechanical smog equipment-there are so many hoses and lines on my car,, I can hardly see the engine.
Use zip-lock type bags for everything possible and identify what the pieces are from. Put associated pieces in boxes together. Use shipping tags and waterproof ink to mark the wires and hoses left under the hood. Attach the tags with wire so they won’t come off when you wash the engine compartment. Be as specific as possible. “Carb” is not as good as “Rt. Frnt. of Carb.” Gather all materials together before you begin. The engine shop will need them for fitting and balancing. Lay out the new stuff next to the old. Make sure the parts are what you ordered and that they will fit.

You will need good tools. I started buying them when I got my first job as a high school freshman. Buy ones with a lifetime guarantee. Get a torque wrench, too. If you have friends with specialized tools, like ring compressors, gear pullers, damper installers, see if you can rent or borrow them. Many rental yards also have rental tools (including engine hoists and stands). Parts houses like Pep Boys, Checker/Schucks/Kragen, and Auto Zone will lend you specialized items with a deposit.

A good machine shop is a must, and it won’t be cheap. I spent quite a few hours at Vegas just watching. It takes time to blueprint and balance an engine. If you don’t have a topnotch local shop, ship or drive your engine someplace that does. Stuff gets shipped to Vegas Machine all the time. I needed some oddball parts from the Pontiac dealer (thermostatic switch for the vapor recovery system carbon canister, for instance), and I learned that if you wait until the place isn’t busy, the parts guy will hear you a lot better. Don’t hesitate to bring him a cold drink on a hot day.

I wasted a couple of hours trying to figure out why some things weren’t the way they should have been. I finally realized that the pressure switch on the Fourth gear port of the transmission was a leftover from a prior
swap. Based on the overall condition of the mechanicals, I assumed the trans needed another rebuild, so I figured I Might-As-Well pop for a complete B&M 700-R4. All things considered, it’s a great value at about $1,400 (from Summit). The cost was only a couple of hundred more than I would have. paid for stock rebuild, which wouldn’t have been upgraded for the 385.

You will encounter tasks that require two and three people, but you’ll probably have some friends who are willing to help. Don’t be a nuisance and do offer cold drinks (keep the beer in the fridge until the end of the day!) Replace all cheap parts. The extra hundred you’ll spend will save you lots of time down the road. You want a reliable car, not one that leaks and breaks down.

Plan ahead. I know that sounds trite, but by making a list of what you want to accomplish for the day, you will stay focused and get more done. Set realistic goals for the day. Take your time, don’t worry about the clock, and enjoy what you are doing. If you get frustrated or tired, stop. At the end of the day, review what you have done. I learned years ago that when you rush, or don’t keep focused, you make mistakes. Remember, you’re supposed to be doing this for fun. Read the instructions. Don’t be like me and let a “know it all” ego get in the way. I was fumbling with the headers, and finally I read the instructions. It was easy then.

I’ve read that most Chevy smog heads aren’t worth rebuilding. I got Summit’s porting kit and went to work on the ones from my truck engine. After a half day of sweat, I saw a small crack. Before you work on the heads, have them magnafluxed. I learned another lesson about heads. Vegas Machine had a set of 487X cores for sale. Lingenfelter’s book says that these are great flowing heads, so I had them machined and had hardened seats installed (for lead-free gasoline). But for another hundred bucks, I could have bought new Vortec heads.

I followed the instructions in the books and manuals, and estimate that I’ve spent about 250 hours, so far, on the Trans Am’s resurrection. In general, if you figure one day per week, and perhaps a couple of marathon sessions thrown in, you can do a project like this in a home garage in six to eight months. Another tip: Keep the car a “roller,” because you’ll be pushing it in and out of the garage. I had started to work on the suspension while the engine work was being done, but I came to my senses and waited until I was finished with the first part.

The engine fired up on the first tap of the starter (that is, after I reinstalled the distributor in the correct position.) I forgot how easy it is to put it in 180 degrees out especially when things happen from one weekend to the next. (One revolution of the engine is only V2 revolution of the distributor.) Hearing your first “built-from-the-block-up” engine come alive is an experience you do not forget.

The correct way to break in an engine is to run it at 2,000 rpm for 20 to 30 minutes. Nowhere in the instructions does it tell you that the headers will begin to glow red straightaway and that nothing better be in contact with them… or even close. I had patched a hole in the heater box from the bungled engine drop with fiberglass. Since the patch was too close to the red-hot headers, the ‘glass caught fire. Thankfully, a garden hose was at hand. (I had videotaped the startup. It looked like a Three Stooges movie..When I first saw the flames, I had visions of an installment of “And They Walked Away-Part 16”) Actually, the ‘glass doesn’t burn, the resin does. For the final repair, I’ll use a metal patch held in place with RTV silicone.

Since the radiator was not designed to handle such terrific heat standing still… spraying water on the core kept the temperature under control. One of the stock cables shorted out on the headers in no time flat. See? The real world is not like HOT ROD TV where when you come back from the commercial everything fits and there are no false starts. You gotta love a challenge.

What is lacking is the complete engineering and design plan. That is exactly where you come in. You’re the hot rodder. The fun and challenge of planning and building a car that will satisfy your goals of power, handling, and overall performance is what it’s all about. When you are finished, you will have learned, become a better mechanic, had a lot of fun, and you will have the satisfaction of owning a car that is distinctly yours.

Since projects like this are hideously good at annihilating time, I’ve had no chance to shake down the car and get performance figures. It runs and feels great, and that alone has made it worthwhile. Future plans include improvements in suspension, handling, and stopping as well as increased creature comforts. But those are other stories.

So what’s the bottom line? Can you be a stroke in the desert (or Hicksville or Wlidsboro) and get the parts and info you need’ to build a project car? The answer is a resounding yes. Enjoy your hot rod. HR

ED NOTE.- This is the first in a sporadic series about a resuscitation of some worthy, though often overlooked, raw material. Hot rodder Green will continue with his notes from tbe field as time and inclination permi

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