Note: The following Story is Copyright 1997, by Harry Pellow, All Rights Reserved. Now available on Floppy Disk from HCP Research, 20655 Sunrise Drive, Cupertino, CA 95014. Phone: (408) 727-1864. Fax: (408) 727-0951. E-mail: maestro@well.com A NEAR-VIRGIN IN OFF-WHITE It was still the First Month of the 1997 New Year. And it had been one Hellova month. The Porsche gods had summed up the Maestro's 1996 performance and rewarded (?) him with a whole buncha Phone Calls, Letters and E-Mails about Impossibly Rare Porsche Problems for him to solve. And solve them he did- with the help of the Porsche gods. Thanks guys. Take a bow and exit, Stage Right. But it was a week ago or so when a not-so-proud owner of a not-so-proud 356 SC Coupe made that Fateful Call to the Maestro's Hot Line, (408) 727-1864 for a needed part. The 356SC Owner had been to the Maestro's Shop before- once for a new fuel pump to replace his leaking Original, a second time for a .050 Distributor to replace a bad Original and a third time for a new muffler. The Maestro had even lain his hand on the engine once- to set the .050's High Speed Advance. This time, the SC's Owner needed but a single Valve Adjuster- y'know- the threaded thingie with the "Ball Cup" on one end to fit over the pushrod, and the screwdriver slot in the other end for adjusting the valve gap. "Just out of Curiosity", asked the Maestro. "Why did you need just ONE adjuster?" "Uh, well, I broke one of the adjusters." Said the VOP "You BROKE an Adjuster. How you do that?" inquired the Maestro. "Uh, well, I MISSED A SHIFT!" said the VOP. "Oh," said the Maestro. "That'll do it." "It did". "So let me guess," said the Maestro. "I bet the Valve Adjuster that failed was on an Exhaust Valve." "Why THAT'S AMAZING, Maestro. It WAS an Exhaust Valve Adjuster." "Not so amazing, said the Maestro modestly. "A Mis-shift- like ifin you hit FIRST when you really wanted THIRD- can be disastrous! (The Calculation of the Astronomical RPM produced by the car's Momentum trying to rev the engine up to absurd speeds is left to the Student, the Foolish or the Foolish Student). Suffice it to say a First-instead-of-Third missed shift and 8000+ RPM will result in SOMETHING striking SOMETHING. (Just a couple of months ago, a New 912 Owner of 2-weeks suddenly lost power on the Freeway, and called the Maestro. The Maestro went out to save the 2-week-old 912 Owner, but when he heard the Starter spin something, and the pulley, she-a no-a move-a he knew that Something Serious was wrong. And yes, Disaster Fans, all EIGHT dowel pins of the Crank/Flywheel had been cleanly SHEARED off, and the new 912 Owner was outa luck and in for an overhaul!) But this 356SC Owner was lucky- his engine STILL RAN after the missed shift- all that happened was the Adjuster for #1 Exhaust broke- obviously the Weakest Link in the Piston/Valve/Rocker/Pushrod/Cam Follower/Camshaft/Case System. This time. (Next time, or in YOUR case, it'll be something else that fails.) The guy came over to the Shop and the Maestro gave him a nice clean Adjuster whose threads hadn't been boogered up by overzealous VW mechanics overtorquing the lock nut. The guy was so grateful he kissed the Maestro's Ring. The Brass Rat loves that. And all was well for a couple of days, until the guy called back with: "Uh, Maestro. I'm the guy who missed the shift and broke the Adjuster. I replaced the Adjuster, but the engine still has a nasty noise inside." "Uh, oh," said the Maestro. "Sounds like it wasn't just the Adjuster that's broken inside your engine." "Yeah, said the guy. And I just don't have the Time nor the Money to fix it." "Yesssss, said the Maestro, "And does that mean you would like to avail yourself of the Maestro's Computerized Buy/Sell Matchmaker List that matches Those Condescending to Sell with Those Desperate to Buy? (Of course, Those Condescending to Sell usually want Ridiculously High Prices and Those "Desperate" to Buy are willing to pay purely Paltry amounts of Money. But occasionally, a Seller be Reasonable and a Buyer be Willing and a match be made.) "Yes", said the guy. "I can't afford to rebuild the engine and fix everything. Yes, I want to sell it." "And what price range shall I place you in?" asked the Maestro. The VOP mentioned a Most Reasonable Sum. Well, not that reasonable, considering the condition of the engine. But certainly worth a look-see. "Any rust?" asked the Maestro cautiously. "Uh, yeah. It's got a little rust in the bottom of both doors." "Oh, that's too bad," said the Maestro his excitement waning. "Did it come from back East?" "No, it's supposed to be a California Car." "Really," said the Maestro suspiciously. "A California Car with bad door rust? Was it near the ocean? Or the mountains?" "Matter of fact, it WAS near the Ocean- it originally came from Carmel by the Sea." Ah, Carmel- that Idyllic village by the Monterey Bay where many 356's frolic in the mist in the midst of Million Dollar estates. "And Originally it was a real "SC" too- but the engine in it now is a 356C. Sort of." "You sure it really WAS an "SC" originally?" Asked the Maestro, having heard this song and dance routine many times before. "Oh, YES- I've got The Certificate of Authenticity from Reno. It shows my Original engine number was 813,xxx." "That's an SC all right. (In fact, his Center of Higher Reasoning was just then looking up that engine number inside his somewhat twisted brain. As it flashed through the Indexed Data, it realized that on the Maestro's shelf sat a Real "SC" engine within TWENTY engine numbers of the Original SC in this car. Is this a Sign?) So, the Maestro decided to take a little look-see at this here 356SC. As soon as there was a break in the rash of phone calls, the Maestro hopped into his trusty winter driver and sped on down the road to Funnyvale. There on a nice suburban street, barely under a carport was the 356, looking a little sad out there unprotected and all, completely exposed to those Four Strong Winds That Blow Lonely. The Maestro wandered up to the car from her rear. He could see the ugly, oxidized white paint from afar. Getting closer didn't improve her appearance any. Until he saw her License Plate- it was the highly-sought-after, Original California Gold & Black plate- the ones issued only up until 1969. This one had a letter combination suggesting that the plate was issued about 1968, which meant- that this 356 HAD BEEN IN CALIFORNIA since at least 1968! That's the good news. The Bad News was to come shortly. He walked over for a side view. And yes, there it was- the Unmistakable Sign of the Dreaded Door Rust- announcing itself by a Neon-Brown line of Cancerous Bubbles that quite nicely outlined the bottom door seam, about 2 inches above the actual bottom of the door. It was a Classic Study, a Ph.D. Thesis, of the Synergistic Combination of Sitting Salt Water, Capillary Action and Imperfect Rustproofing. He got down on his knees, not from the shock of seeing the rust- he's seen that before. And worse. Much Worse! (After all, the Maestro came from Upstate, New York, the Mother Country of All Rust.) But still, he had to eyeball the Undercarriage. Might as well eliminate her as a Candidate right now. Expecting to see a whole lotta holes and/or poor Rust RE-pair, he was SHOCKED and AMAZED to find an almost Virgin Pan. With Good Jack Points. And no previous rust repairs. And, Most Importantly, NO Rust. (Another tribute to California Cars- even when the DO rust, they DON'T rust in important places!) The Maestro now perked up a bit and REALLY began to eyeball this Beastie. It was like finding another Good Old Girl (who, ironically, was also White with the same door rust. And boy, was she a good car!) He checked her ID number on the inside of the Driver's door. It checked out to be a 1965 356C, about a thou or so from the end. Had the SC Electric Tach too- one that redlined at 6200 and went to 7000 RPM She still had the Original Carpet- or should I say the "Threads" of the Original Carpet. Looks like we mustave had a little water leak from the Monsoon rains a month before. The Maestro casually eyeballed the Paint Color Code. "Hummh, 6401. Now where have I heard that before?" The Maestro's Center of Higher Reasoning popped out that easy puppy as "Slate Gray" which happened NOT to match the Refrigerator White the car currently was! Fortunately, it was possible to check out the Original Paint Color for BOTH door panels were off. (The guy was trying but failing to fix both Window Regulators which had long since ceased functioning- meaning that BOTH windows were now UP- permanently! And had been for YEARS!) There were also no inside door handles! (Having no inside door handles meant that when you drove the car, ifin you didn't bring along at least ONE inside door handle, and you got inside the car with the windows rolled up, you'd be STUCK INSIDE THE CAR until some kind passerby let you out! Or until you found some way to open the damn door withOUT the handle! Great mod for kidnappers. (Trick: since the upholstery piece is off, reach inside the door and grab the cable that activates the door latch. Pull. Feel the Joy of the Freedom we felt in the '60's.) The Maestro glanced at the Color on the now-readily-visible inside of the doors and at first thought- "Oh, no, Horrors! It's Monkey Vomit Green," a color he REALLY hates and a color, ironically, many of his best Porsche were. But no, when he shined The Light of Day on the Interior it was obvious that the inside of the doors were both "Slate Gray"- a color the Maestro likes, along with Silver, Black, Red, and Yes, even White. Anything but Monkey Vomit Green. On his tour of the body, the Maestro checked out the gaps and seams. Not too bad. Damn nice gaps on the front and rear hood. Good gaps on the Driver's Door. Not so hot gaps on the passenger's door. He eyeballed the all-important engine. Of course, the Original SC Engine was long gone. In its place was a 356C engine- sorta. The Main Case Halves checked out as a 356C, but it had a Replacement Third Piece that someone had scratched meaningless numbers into. Sigh. But there was something about this car that tugged at the Maestro's heartstrings. He's always had a soft spot in his heart for injured and homeless 356's. And it HAD been a while since he's had a new 356. And neither Trusty Rusty nor the Maestro is getting any younger. And those four-wheel Disk Brakes sure are nice to have,... Maybe Mrs. Maestro would let him keep this one. The wheels in Maestro's somewhat twisted mind began cranking out a Scenario. So, the Maestro called the guy back and says- "Y'know if I might take a test drive, perhaps we could we could work something out." The guy was amenable to that, so the Maestro hurried on back to Funnyvale in his Winter Driver to drive the faded white Three Fifty Six. The engine fired up, but what a racket. Loud tapping/knocking noises. Unhappy noises. Expensive noises. The Maestro got out the right hand that he always keeps at his side and checked the many muffler/J tube and cylinder head connections for any exhaust leaks. (An Exhaust leak sounds JUST like Rod Knock, but isn't. Fortunately.) Bad news. Couldn't find any exhaust leaks. The sound was Internal. The Maestro carefully drove the wounded steed around the block, checking things. The transmission shifted pretty good- no funny noises, and 356C's with the 12 bolt Ring Gear and Differential Carrier are tough as nails and good for 250,000+ miles- a trip to the Moon. The brakes felt pretty good- MUCH better than Trusty Rusty's aging drums. The Maestro tried the various switches. Yep. Horn Works. Lights work. Turn Signal lights light but don't blink. Then he reached for the radio which was a Sony AM/FM/Cassette, running on 12 Volt. (Running on 12 Volt? How it do that on a 6 Volt car? Ah, because there be a 6 to 12 volt converter in the front trunk- screwed down to the plastic front trunk covering, that's how. The Maestro's never liked 12 volt converters much- he's had several fail on him over the years. So, when he turned the Radio on and got nothing- no little light come on on the radio, and most importantly- NO TUNES either, he discounted the worth of the radio to Absolute Zero. Guess I'll have to stuck in that ever-faithful 6 volt, AM-only "Sapphire I" radio again. Sigh.) Despite the other defects, (like having only ONE windshield wiper, and that water had leaked into the car and turned the carpet fibers to wicks), the car drove pretty well- although the Symphony of Cacophony- those ominous, woeful sounds coming from the Overrevved engine- clearly indicated engine work was in order Real Soon Now. The Maestro returned from his test drive. And he and the owner entered into the Negotiation Stage. "So, whaddya want for it?" "Like I said, I gotta have $X,000." The Maestro's Center of Junkyard Engineering produced a Risk Assessment of the Situation, Estimating the Worst Case Junk-out Worth. (Well, let's see- the Engine probably has a Grand in parts inside, the Transmission's Ring & Pinion and 12-Bolt Carrier are worth a Grand- if they're OK. The Disk Brakes oughta be worth a Grand. And you got the rest of the car, so you wouldn't get hurt too badly at $X,000.) "Yeah, well," said the Maestro to the Owner. "It doesn't have the Original "SC" Engine. The engine it DOES have is sick and needs an overhaul. It's got rust in the doors and the Interior ah, shall we say needs a little work. How about $X,000-1,000? "No, I can't do $X,000-1,000. The best I can do is $X,000-200. The Maestro, sensing some willingness to bargain says, after a pause: "Well, tell you what- I'd be willing to go to $X,000-700. "Nah, said the owner, I can't let it go that cheap." "OK," said the Maestro, sensing resistance but trying one last time. "How about $X,000-500 then?" "Yeah," said the Owner. "That sounds OK." "Oh," said the Maestro, suddenly realizing that he had just bought himself a car- once again without consulting Mrs. Maestro. There'd be Hell to pay if the Maestro were wrong. Would it be a Turkey or a near-Virgin in Off-White? That was the Question The Maestro convinced the owner to drive the car the last mile to the Maestro's Shop, since that would be the Right Thing to do. He agreed. And both boys convoyed over to The Shop. The car placed inside, the paperwork done and the owner returned to his humble abode by the Maestro, richer by far in the Coin of the Realm. The Maestro hurried back to the Shop to examine more closely his White Beauty and begin the Rejuvenation of the damsel in distress. First he decided to see just how bad the paint really was. He got out his special Meguliars cleaner wax that worked so well in the past and began at her top- the roof. He did a small area and watched as the oxidized Refrigerator White changed to a pleasant Off-White beige. Whoa! She's responding. So he continued. And did a little more of her roof. She responded some more. The many little "dots" on the paint that looked like rust coming through were just hummingbird doo-doo or tree droppings for they dissolved nicely in the cleaner wax. Soon, the roof looked like it just had a new paint job! So the Maestro tried the front hood. It too cleaned up like the roof. So he tried the front fenders. Viola! Presto Chango into nice-o White-o. Then the doors. They looked better too- except for that Real Obvious, ugly rust scar at the seam at the bottom of the doors. The Maestro cleaned off the very dirty wheels to find Original, unpitted Chrome Wheels with Original Hubcaps. Likewise unpitted. A dose of cleaner, a lot of elbow grease and the wheels looked like new, This is turning out better than I thought, thought the Maestro. Am I this lucky? The Maestro's hypoglycemia decided that now would be a good time to break for lunch, which the Maestro wisely did. He always listens when his hypoglycemia talks. As he was imbibing his sandwich, and absorbing needed nutrients, the Maestro thumbed through the Records the previous owner had nicely saved. He went Back in Time to 1990 when the Second Owner first sold the car to the Third Owner who Sold it to the Fourth Owner who sold it to the Maestro that day. The Maestro began checking the Second owner's History. Let's see, receipts for new Michelins in 1987. A Tune-Up in 1986. A muffler in 1985. A Tune up and carb overhaul in 1984. A Battery in 1980. Another tune up in 1977. Smog exemption certificate for multi-carburetored engines in 1975. Transmission overhaul in 1974. Another tune up in 1973. And an Engine Overhaul in 1971. Ah- that's the engine overhaul! Besides the usual "Bearings and gaskets sets", the Invoice had listed a "pair of Used Cases" for $50! That must have been when the Original SC engine died and they replaced the Case with the 356C and the Replacement Third Piece. And what's this- a NEW "SC/912" CRANK in 1971 too! Whoa! And here's where the Second owner bought it- in 1969. Oh, and that's when they changed the plates- so THAT'S why the current plate was issued in 1969! The Original plate had indeed been issued in 1965, but when the ownership changed, so did the plates. (Though both plates were the Black & Yellow type.) And, sho' 'nough, when the Maestro checked the Special Little Box on the old California registrations- the one with the "*" above it (The "*" means the California Sun)- that tells what year the California Sun first shown on the Car, he came up with a blank. And a Blank there is exactly what you WANT to see! For a BLANK in the "*" box means that the car is an Original California Car- one that was first registered in California when Brand New. It's the Birth Certificate of a California Car! And THIS 356 had it! The Second Owner also owned the 356 for almost 20 Years! She (and it was a she) lived in Carmel- that artsy-craftsy city by the (Monterey) Bay. And that explains the rust in the doors! A little salt in the fog that condenses on the glass, runs down the doors and sits in the bottom seam for 20+ years WILL cause this kind of door rust. Q.E.D. But the REST of the car where there be no sitting salt water and decent undercoating there be no rust! The first owner had bought it for his business (nice perks ifin you can get it), and that's why the license plate changed- Back then, ifin the vehicle was licensed as a commercial vehicle and thence changed to non-commercial, that meant a plate change. That's why the '68 plate on the '65 SC. Lunchtime discoveries over, the Maestro returned to finish off the wax job. Half an hour later, the body looking better than it had in several years at least, the Maestro finally got to check out the engine. He started with the "What to Do When You Get It Home" Section in "Secrets of the Inner Circle", and began to give it a tune up. First the Valves. He found #1 Cylinder on the .050 distributor- one the Maestro had set the timing on a mere month before- and cranked the pulley over until the rotor pointed to the #1 plug wire and the "OT" mark on the Pulley was lined up with the timing notch in the Third Piece of the Case. Hence, #1 Cylinder at Top Dead Center. The Maestro prostrated himself on the ground and popped a valve cover off with his Naked Hand. He got out his Calibrate Arm he always keeps at his side and wiggled #1 Exhaust Valve. And BOY did #1 Exhaust Valve WIGGLE! About a quarter Inch of wiggle! Uh, Oh thought the Maestro. Looks like I've just put my finger on the problem! That much "valve gap" usually means Something Is Very Wrong- like the Valve is stuck in its guide (maybe from being BENT by the overrevving), or the Cam Follower head is broken off. Or the pushrod badly bent. But then the Maestro noticed something VERY unusual. Can you guess what it was? Roll that "Jeopardy" Theme Song. He noticed that the Valve Adjuster LOCK NUT WASN'T TIGHT! In fact, he noticed that the Valve Adjuster LOCK NUT WASN'T THERE! In fact, he FOUND the Valve Adjuster Lock Nut in the Valve Cover! WHOA! Said the Maestro. Dare I think? Could it be this simple? Expertly, he spun the lock nut back on the Adjuster desperately seeking same and adjusted the valves for #1 Cylinder. They adjusted. He did all the valves, of course, finding more than one or two a bit too tight. Was THIS be all that's wrong? This was getting downright scary! So, he got out his 12 Volt Magically Adjustable Timing Light and dragged along a separate fully-charged 12 volt battery to power the Magic Timing Light,) And fired the White 356 up. She fired up. In fact, she fired up pretty damn well. With no noise! Would it be THIS easy? The Maestro shown his Strobe Light of Timing Truth onto the Crank Pulley. The .050 proudly showed 33 degrees of High Speed Advance. Idles about 5 or 6 degrees advance. Not bad. I couldn't have done it better myself. The Maestro went to the Carbs and found them to be 40 IDF Webers which was good, and began adjusting. All four mixture screws adjusted! Which was better. Oh, this is too easy. I KNOW this is too easy. So the Maestro decided to go for a Drive. As he backed the 356 out the Shop's door, he noticed a little clutch chatter. And when he took off, he noticed a little more clutch chatter- and an overly tight clutch cable. But the Big Bad Engine Noises- That Symphony of Cacophony- all its musicians mustave gone on strike- cause the Bad Sounds were ALL GONE! It WAS the valve adjuster's lock nut- or, more specifically, the LACK of the Adjuster's Lock Nut that allowed the Adjuster to unscrew itself, caused the Quarter Inch Valve Gap and orchestrated The Sound of Chaos. The Maestro was now humming a happy tune as he drove out the driveway on his Test Drive- until he glanced at the instruments- and saw that: The Big Red Light was "on"! The Big Red Light is the Generator Warning Light. Which means that either the fan belt had just come off or the generator/regulator wasn't charging the battery. Oh, GREAT, he thought. I wonder what's wrong with the Charging System? Just then, the Big Red Light went OUT! And the Maestro thought- "Uh, oh. I bet she's IS Haunted!" Don't laugh. Haunted 356's happen. Quite often in fact- especially those 356's owned for loooooooong periods of time by Members of the Female Persuasion. Like this one had been. With no Red Light to stop him, the Maestro went off for a decent Test Drive. It was then that the Maestro began to notice Bad Vibrations from the engine. Now, where have I felt this bad vibration before? Chicago? Boston? Oh, yeah- it was at an 356 East Coast Holiday when an Owner of a 356 asked me to drive his car. I did, but never revved it over 4000 Rpm. "Why don't rev it up higher" asked the Owner. "Because," say I. "It has a Real Bad Vibration inside and I'm AFRAID to rev it up!" Turned out, the Flywheel and Pressure Plate were badly out of balance.) This one had that feeling. The Maestro returned from his test drive with the White SC still running pretty well, though there be Rumbles Down Below. He pulled in the Shop's door turned the engine off and got out. Then he reached inside, grabbed the key, and turned, expecting that lovely opposed Four Banger to fire right up, Nothing. Not even a "click". The Maestro, amazed by this Negative Contact on that Starter, Good Buddy, tried again. More Carefully this time, he turned the key to "off". Then back to "on" and then "Start". Again Nothing. So he stick his brain-filled head inside the car and eyeballed the instrument cluster on the dash. There WEREN'T ANY Ignition Warning Lights showing on the Dash! Unbelievingly, he got his whole body INSIDE THE CAR. Turned the key back to "off", Turned it back to "on". Then to "Start". Still Nothing. Humnmnmmh, he said. Yep, I was right again- it WASN'T gonna be THAT easy. Quickly, he pulled the release knob for the front hood, got out, and opened the hood. And eyeballed a Brand New Battery with all the recently-connected connections connected quite rightly. Even the 6V to 12 Volt Converter for the non-working Sony Stereo looked hooked up OK. Hummmmh. So he returned to the Driver's Seat and eyeballed the underside of the ignition switch. And what did he find? He found that TWO WIRES HAD POPPED OUT OF THE IGNITION SWITCH!! RIGHT THEN! SECONDS AGO! Did those two wires pop out at the Gas Station and leave the Maestro stranded? No! Did they pop out at Jay's, leaving the Maestro embarrassed? Nope. The two wires popped out RIGHT IN THE MAESTRO'S SHOP. Right AFTER the Test drive! Now, THAT'S a Certain Unmistakable Sign of a GOOD 356- one that ONLY breaks down in your driveway- or better yet in the Maestro's Shop- where it can be FIXED! Is that "Haunted" or what? So the Maestro used his patented Trial & Error Technique to find out where the two wires went on the ignition switch and put them there. Then he turned the key again. This Time he had Lights. He had Camera. He had Starter. (And yes, it did start when he turned the key, wise guy.) By now the Maestro was really IM-pressed. Here the Porsche gods had delivered unto him a Near-Virgin 356 with Disk Brakes no less, giving him nothing but easy-to-fix problems to fix (so far). Right into his lap. There really are Certain Unmistakable signs. The Maestro decided to end the day on that note and happily turned out the Shop's lights, called wifey-poo and set the Laser Disintegrator to "Kill". But as he was about to leave, he remembered that the keys were still in the White Porsche. So he headed back into the darkened shop. But, when he turned the corner what did he see? He Saw an Eerie Glow! A Twilight-Zone type Eerie Glow! An Eerie Glow he's NEVER seen before! And the Eerie Glow was coming from INSIDE his White SC! The Maestro was more than a little shocked by this strange apparition. Was this PROOF that the 356 WAS Haunted? Was it The Lord? Or a UFO? Or was it the Re-Virginization process of the Porsche gods, seldom seen by Mortal Man? Will MILLIONS of people suddenly flock to the Maestro's Shop to be re-Virginized, when they hear about the Miracles being performed inside?? No. The Eerie Glow was the 356's INTERIOR LIGHT. It was ON! Which means it was WORKING! The Maestro's never had a 356 before whose Interior Light actually WORKED! That's why he didn't know what that strange glow was. So he returned to the White SC, got the keys and closed the Driver's door. That turned off the interior light. And the Maestro went off into the night. Happy. 'cause he: KEPT THE 356 FAITH! P.S. The next day, the Maestro hurried back to his shop to see what Miracles the White Porsche would perform that day. He didn't have to wait long. The Maestro fired the Heinz 57 engine up. It started easily and quickly settled down to a fairly smooth idle. His right hand automatically reached out to the Radio switch- this one a Sony AM/FM/Cassette installed rather nicely in the dash. He turned the knob clockwise to "on" Nothing. No "Tunes". He pushed the on/off knob. Nothing. No lights came on on the Sony. More importantly no SOUND came from the Sony either! Sigh. Said the Maestro. "Guess I'd better get out that old Sapphire I AM-only radio ifin I want any "Tunes". But the Maestro decided to give it the old college try anyway and checked the wires under the dash. All of them went somewhere. Hmmmmh. thought the Maestro remembering that 6 to 12 Volt converter in the trunk. I'd better eyeball that. So he opened the front truck and eyeballed the 6-12 volt converter Yep. Sure looks like a 6 to 12 Volt Converter. So he began to trace the wires from the Converter to the Battery. Along the way his hand found a bulge in the wire- it was the fuse holder. "Now Porsche gods, come ON guys. This is getting SCARY!" beseeched the Maestro. With shaking hands the Maestro unscrewed the fuse holder, uncovering the fuse inside. The Maestro popped the fuse out and offered it up towards the California Sun god as a sacrifice. Illuminated by the Warm California Sun god (unisex, of course), you could clearly see a "drop" at one end of the fuse. It was all that remained of the melted fuse. Hummmh, it's a 'Merican fuse. I wonder if I have one of those 'round here? He was thinking about that as the phone rang. As he was talking to the guy on the phone, the Maestro hand, as if possessed with a mind of its own having Greater Knowledge, reached over the top of the Parts Bin and blindly grabbed a piece of wire that had a fuse attached. The Maestro unscrewed this fuse and found - the same type fuse- UNBLOWN! This is REALLY getting SCARY! In a daze, the Maestro wandered over to the White 356 now Shimmering Scintillatingly in the Sunlight, stuck his fuse into her fuse holder and screwed it back together again. He returned to the Driver's Sear with Great Trepidation. And Turned the Key to "On". And pushed Christine's, er I mean the White Car's radio button to "on". "GOOD, GOLLY MIZ MOLLY" suddenly screamed the Radio as Little Richard blasted through the highly-efficient speakers! He had TUNES again! With Good Tunes, any type of disgusting work is made palatable, so the Maestro tackled the seemingly impossibly task of fixing the Window Cranking Mechanism, the "Window Regulator", in AutoSpeak. One of the previous owner(s) had somehow broken one regulator so badly it was beyond the previous owner's repair. The other one was half in and half out of the driver's door, 'cause the window glass had come out of its bottom channel. The Maestro figured he'd better tackle that one first. The Situation: The Driver's Door Window had been wedged "UP" for Heap Many Moons and had become an Integral Part of the furry weather-stripping on three sides. Attempts at pushing or forcing the window "down" had no effect except to produced Great Torque at the Door Hinges! Question: So, how do you get the damn window DOWN???!!! Answer: (And it took the Maestro a while to think of this.) Get out your feeler gauges. Select the little-used 0.020" feeler gauge. Feeler gauges have rounded ends that work really well at getting BETWEEN the glass and its furry weather-stripping, and cutting through all the dirt and birdy doo-doo, putty-knife like. But with rounded ends, the feeler gauge doesn't gouge up the furry weather-stripping. Also: it helps to spray WD-40 on the window/furry weather-stripping interface as you expertly "cut" around the window with the feeler gauge. Go over all three sides of the trapped window- and BOTH sides of the glass, of course! Spray that WD-40. Work that feeler gauge around and you can feel that glass free up. But you still have the problem of the EDGE of the glass where your feeler gauge can't get under. Oh, yes it can! Stick that .020 feeler gauge through at the TOP of the window/frame interface. Wiggle it around until it comes out the other side. Grab the other side of the feeler gauge, and Carefully pull down on the window. You don't need much, only a millimeter or so. Then move to the other side of the glass, insert the feeler gauge, and move the window down about a millimeter. Return to the other side and repeat. Repeat until the window comes free. Total elapsed time with this Technique- 10 Minutes. Normally, the Window Glass fits into a "U" shaped channel at the base of the glass. The "U" shaped channel is held to the window Regulator (Crank) by two rollers which roll along the channel as the window is cranked. This time the "U" shaped channel had separated from the Window Glass. This is what the Maestro had to fix. He eyeballed the "U" shaped channel. Inside the "U" shaped channel was a piece of 30-year old, cracked, hardened, fragile German rubber that was supposed to hold the glass tightly without breaking. And lots of old glue on the 30-year old rubber. Someone had tried this repair before. And Failed! So, First Question: How you get the glue offa 30-year old, cracked, hardened, fragile German rubber without ruining said rubber? Answer: The same way the Maestro cleaned up the Old Original Floor Mat that he almost threw away. With a Gallon of Costco Armorall that Mrs. Maestro lovingly bought her husband for his Birthday. And a few pads of steel wool. Gook the Armorall on the Floor Mat (or the Window Regulator rubber). Rub with steel wool the many layers of glue. Given enough elbow grease the glue comes off and the rubber softens and actually becomes pliable. (Yes, the Armorall effect may not last long, but here it lasts long enough.) Clean out the "U" shaped channel too while you're at it- it gets rusted too and the rust expands into the sides and bottom of the channel, pinching the rubber and making it so the window glass won't go all the way down into the "U" shaped channel. Even California Cars may have rust here. This one did. Then put the glue-less, revitalized, Armorall-ed rubber back inside the nicely-cleaned U-shaped channel. Since the window glass in not yet attached, fit the rollers of the Window Regulator into their guide. (And you did clean up and grease/oil those rollers didn't you???), and try a trial fit of the Window glass into the "U" shaped channel. (And make sure you've cleaned all the rust and crud off the BOTTOM of the Window glass too!) You might find that the glass will now fit snugly into the rubber-lined channel. And ifin you give it a trial crank, you might find that the window goes up inside its frame ever-so-smooooothly. And back down again. And back up again. Just like new. Maybe BETTER'n new. It also helps to lube up all the various moving parts in/on the window regulator. This prevents friction from doing Bad Things later on. The Maestro marveled at the mechanics involves. In a well-lubricated channel with Armorall-saturated rubber, as the window is raised up, the glass actually slides along its rubber-coated channel. (Actually, the rollers are supposed to do the sliding to accommodate the regulator's motion. But the rollers always have a bit of friction, and the alignment of them ain't' always perfect, which explains many "hard to turn" areas when you're cranking a window up or down.) Just as the Maestro was finishing up the Driver's door on his Lady in White, who should arrive but his crazy friend Randy. (The Maestro owed Randy a Big Favor for Randy saved the Maestro's Ass and his Priceless Data when the 15-year-old IBM XT clone at the Shop started failing thanks to a marauding mouse who attempted to eat the disk Drive wires and pee-ed on the memory chips. Fortunately, Randy got the Data offa that old XT onto a younger XT before the "ERROR 601: Memory Parity Error from Mouse Pee-Pee" message appeared.) Two weeks before (and against the Maestro's better judgment) Randy bought an aging Toyota to replace his overly-aged Toyota that had died a month before. This Toyota was circa 1985 with "only" 120,000 miles. Randy had attempted to change the oil in his new used Toyota, a dangerous thing for a Computer Programmer to do, and had tackled the drain plug with mucho gusto. Mucho too much gusto on such a little nut-o. The Drain Plug nut rounded off. And no matter what cheap tool Randy chose, it failed the Real Life Test. Nothing worked. The drain plug only rounded more. So, in Desperation, Randy called the Maestro. The Maestro, Absolutely Overconfident from the amazing events of 1997 said "Noooo Problem, Randy. You saved my Data. I'll get that drain plug out for you." Now was his chance, for Randy had just entered, Stage Left, past all the Badly Broken Porsche parts arranged like a skeleton on the Set of the "356/912 Engine- EXPLODED view!" So, the Maestro backed his White Beauty out of the shop and Randy drove his Mundane Econobox inside. The Maestro got out his floor jack and raised the Toyota's chin in the air. And eyeballed what he was up against. Yes, the drain plug WAS rounded off- badly. So the Maestro got out his trusty file and began to make two relatively flat "chords" on opposite sides of the drain plug. "I already tried that," said Randy". "It didn't work. I even tried my huge El Cheapo pipe wrench on that damn nut. But it wouldn't budge." The Maestro, ignoring Randy's helpful comments, continued filing until he had some semblance of two "flats" on opposite sides of the nut. Then he went over and got his Very Best Vice grip- one that was almost brand new and, therefore, still had good Jaws. Returning to the Toyota, he adjusted the Vice grip and attached it to the nut. He clamped it down. Then he unclamped it and tightened it a little. And clamped it down Then he unclamped it and tightened it a little. And clamped it down Then he unclamped it and tightened it a little. And clamped it down Then he unclamped it and tightened it a little. And clamped it down Then he unclamped it and tightened it a little. And clamped it down Get the idea? The idea is to get the teeth of the Vice grip to REALLY dig into the nut. If you just clamp ONCE, the Vice grip only digs in a little ways and all you'll do is gouge out some little pieces of the bolt. And round it off more. But if you clamp and the teeth dig in, then release, tighten the vice grip slightly and clamp again- WITHOUT REMOVING THE VICE GRIP, the teeth will themselves in deeply. That's what you want. The Maestro got the vice grip dug in as far as he could. And he pushed as hard as he could on the Vice grip. The drain plug didn't budge. "See, I told you so said Randy. I couldn't get it to budge either. I'll just have to replace the entire engine pan! That'll take DAYS." "Don't give up the ship yet," said the Maestro. "I have a Secret Weapon." "What's that," Randy asked. "A Hydrogen Bomb?" "Almost. When my father died, my mother gave me a new pair of his gloves to get his car out of the impound lot and cleaned up and ready for sale. I thought I had ruined the gloves, but my mother cleaned them and sent them to me. I only use then on Special Occasions. This is a Special Occasion." The Maestro got out his late father's Special Gloves, and put the Right one on. He walked back to the Toyota, assumed the position underneath, and grabbed the still-tight vice grip And pushed! Magically, the drain plug broke free. And the Maestro didn't even gouge his knuckles. "Got it," said the Maestro. "Say What?" said Randy. "Got what? You can't mean you got the bolt, DID you?" "OF COURSE, I got it," said the Maestro. "Thanks to the Automotive gods, there's still a lot of Magic left in these gloves." These this happen ifin you: KEEP THE FAITH! P.P.S. Well, it took almost a week, but the Maestro could stand it no more! He had finally taken the White 356SC out for a Real Test Drive down the Freeway. But as the speed approached the Now Legal 65 MPH, the engine vibration became all too noticeable. Something just wasn't right inside. Also apparent was an Appealing lack of Power for a Porsche. Especially for an "SC". It was so bad that even Hyundai's could beat the "SC" at the red lights. And it mattered not whether the gas pedal was floored or not- there just was NOOOOO power on take off. In fact, there was nooooo power until about 3000rpm. And even after that there wasn't much power. The Maestro knew he couldn't just stand there, he hadda do something!. And he had a Solution. A Sad Solution, in some respects, but a Solution nonetheless. He could pull Trusty Rusty's Hot-Rod engine out and stick it into the 356SC. That would only take a day or two to do. But what about Trusty Rusty, the Maestro's (sorta) ever-faithful constant Companion for the past 15 years? What about him? Would the Maestro build Trusty a better engine? Nope, I'm afraid Trusty's Time has come. Poor Trusty spent his formative years in Upstate, New York where the Maestro purchased him from an ex-356 friend who claimed it had "The least rust of ANY 356 in New York State." That may well have been true, but like any car 20-year-old car in Upstate, New York, Trusty was Rusty. The "Good" news was that the Maestro's Old Man at the time was teaching high school dropouts and kids who got in trouble with The Law how to do body shop work. So, Trusty became the Class Project for a year and a half. Half a Chevrolet's roof (the only UN-rusted part of a Chevrolet) was used in "restoring" Trusty. And when he was done, 15 years ago, Trusty looked pretty nice, thank you. With a bright RED paint job, a SECOND pan beneath the original pan, and an engine with a bad crack in its crank. Fortunately the Maestro didn't try to drive Trusty back from Upstate, New York. Instead, he drove his 1969 Shevrolay Peek Up Truck OUT to Upstate New York, picked up Trusty Rusty and towed him back to The Golden State. The Trip out and back in the Truck was so uneventful that there were no good stories to be had from it. Maybe that's a Story in itself. (Well, actually while in Upstate, NY, the Maestro was getting a lot of Stares as he drove down the streets of his Old Home Town. Were they staring at the Maestro? Or his beard? No- the inhabitants of Upstate, New York were all staring at an Apparition they hadn't seen in a LOOOOONNNGG time- an UNRUSTED 1969 Shevrolay Peek Up Truck. They hadn't seen such a thing since 1971! Once safely ensconced in California, on Streets Paved With Gold, Trusty's original engine was used as the Patient in the 10-hour long "Porsche 356/912 Engine Assembly Video Tape" Series. And a good thing too- for Trusty's Engine had a crack halfway through his crankshaft! A crack which most certainly would have cause a case of two-piece crankshaftitis in Omaha. Or Rock Springs. The Maestro had a Premonition. Eventually, Trusty became the Test Bed for a buncha experiments in Hot-Rod 356 engines and Transmissions. The latest Transmission Version being a Carrera with "BBAA" Gears which means 70MPH is about 4000 RPM. Makes for instantaneous acceleration at Freeway Speeds, but limits top speed to less than 100. Sure is Fun around town though. But over the last 15 years, Trusty had tended to deteriorate. The California Sun caused Trusty's Bright Red Paint to become not-so Bright, even ah, "blotchy". And Evidence of Every Body Shop Mistake known to Modern Man have begun to rear their ugly heads on various parts of his anatomy. Some started long ago. You want "orange peel"? Trusty has it. You want Shrinking Bondo that caused crack patterns that only a PhD thesis could explain? Yep, they're there too. You want Bubbling Bondo? Trusty has these examples and more. Galore. The next-to-final-straw was that Trusty's Brakes have become ah, Untrusty. Soooo Untrusty that a Panic Stop sometimes isn't. And once was, leading the Maestro into Intimate Contact with a Dodge Dart's rear bumper. Fortunately, no damage was done to the Dart. But poor Trusty lost 20 pounds of Bondo and lead from his front hood. And suffered a broken hood latch assembly. Normally, a broken hood latch will prevent one from driving the car for fear that the front hood will fly up, breaking the windshield and blocking your vision, leading to cries of "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE"! But in Trusty's case, he STILL had more than enough Lead Weight in the front of the hood that no mere 100MPH wind could lift it. But The Final Straw came in the summer of '96, when an Okie from Muskogee at a Decrepit Datsun Repair place backed into Trusty's Rear End real bad. Actually, it was just a moderate-size dent but it crinkled the quarter panel too. In the Old Days, a fix would've cost, oh maybe $200-$300 or so. But when the Maestro shopped his $300 dent around to the "Classic Body Shops" in the area, did he get a SURPRISE! Would you believe this was a $2500-$5000 Dent??? The guy's insurance company believed it and paid off Trusty's capital cost and then some. But sadly, THAT dent was the dent that did in Trusty. For now BOTH his Front & Rear looked REALLY Ugly. And the sides weren't much better. The Maestro was almost embarrassed to drive Trusty around anymore. (His Customers were even more embarrassed to admit that the guy who works on their cars drives a 356 that looks like THAT- pointing to Trusty). Hey, the Maestro got a Hundred Thousand Miles outa Trusty. And he only tried to burn the garage/house down twice! The BMW's tried three times. The Maestro has a Soft Spot in his heart for Trusty, and he can't bear to strip him just yet. Maybe a Resurrection as a Race Car is in his stars. With the Carrera transmission, and some decent brakes, Trusty might well have a Fast Life ahead of him. The Die was Cast. The Maestro pulled the Near Virgin in off-White 356SC into his Shop and gently performed an engine-ectomy, in preparation for sticking Trusty's engine into her. The White SC's engine sat for all of a day until the Maestro couldn't stand it any longer and tore into it. The White Car's Original 356SC engine went off to the not-so-happy hunting grounds about 1972. It was replaced then with a 356C set of Main Case Halves, but with a Replacement Third Piece. (I wonder who ended up with the "SC's engine? 813,799, where are you now?) The Maestro began the disassembly, and immediately saw the Turkey tracks- the use of the wrong size nuts and bolts throughout. Yep, somebody sure had been here before. The oil/dirt encrusted engine sheet metal had never been repainted in over 30 years, but being a California Car had practically no rust on it, thanks partly to the oil leaks. One source of the oil leaks was a missing 6mm screw- one of the two that holds each Side Horizontal Shroud to its Cylinder Head. And the other three screws were VERY loose. Ifin any of these four screws (2 on each side) come out, a hole is formed in the Head which vents the Rocker Area of the head to Atmosphere. Oil from the Rockers is propelled by blow-by up this hole(s) and runs all over the side horizontal sheet metal, and thence everywhere. Droplets "fountain" out and magically get sucked into the Fan to be deposited on the outside of the Oil Cooler to collect dirt and contribute to overheating. (912's and later replacement heads have a Casting Boss in the Head into which the screws for attaching the Side Horizontal sheet metal screw. The Casting Boss on the '66-'69 912 heads means that Side Horizontal Tin shrouding screws never "penetrate" the Cylinder Head so they can't leak when the screw comes out. (This is Generally a Good Idea, but not without a few consequences. Heads made after 1966 with these screw "Bosses" will also have a "Boss" for the Middle Bolt of the Intake Manifold. Normally this would not be a Big deal, BUT if your head HAS the Bosses, then you CAN'T use the Super-90 type ball-valve valve covers. The Ball Valve on the Valve Cover will HIT the "Boss" of the late Heads.) The White car's Oil cooler was about 3/4 blocked with oil/dirt layers on the outside- a Classical Case of Murphy making an oil bath air filter outa the Cooler from a multitude of oil leaks whose droplets magically get sucked into the Fan to be selectively deposited on the Oil Cooler to begin the Cleaning of the cooling air. And the blocking of the Cooler. No wonder the engine was running hot! The Maestro eyeballed the Cylinder and Pistons, expecting (and hoping to find a NPR Big Bore Kit. But no, what was staring back at him were Original, Stock 356SC Cylinders- the Real ones with the nice Bright Shinny Aluminum fins. He also eyeballed a lot of leakage between the Cylinder and the cylinder head OF EVERY CYLINDER! No WONDER there were exhaust fumes in the car when the heater was turned on! As the Maestro pulled each SC Cylinder off the piston, what fell on the floor? That's right- the Top Rings. The Broken Top Rings. All FOUR Broken Top Rings! That's ALL there be! The Top Ring of EVERY "SC" pistons was broken. The Maestro put his rubber-gloved Magic Finger into the top of the cylinder, feeling for that tell-tale Ridge of Wear 'bout a quarter inch down from the top. And there it was. Yep, I'd say it ran maybe 70,000, 80,000 miles. Not too bad really. But then the Maestro noticed something Really Unusual about one cylinder. IT was SPLIT! Right down the middle! Well, no WONDER the Heater had exhaust fumes in it! This cylinder was blowing Combustion Products from the Dragon's mouth directly into the Heater air stream going inside the car! It could have killed anyone who turned the heater on! Geez. Four leaking cylinders, four broken top rings and a split cylinder are Nine Little Reasons why an overhaul was necessary. The Maestro knew he made the right decision. But there was still no sign of the Missed Shift. Only mild marks on the pistons that could barely account for the broken adjuster. (Until the Maestro eyeballed the other "funny marks" on the piston. They were the Perfect Replica of the end of a SPARK PLUG! On all FOUR pistons! Signs of Intimate Contact between the Piston and the Spark Plug sometime. Then, the Maestro got to the Flywheel/Crankshaft connection. First he had to remove the Pressure Plate. And when he did he found evidence of oil leaking onto it from the Flywheel Nut area- through the dowel pins of the Crankshaft. A Bad Sign. And when he removed the Flywheel Nut he noticed that it didn't take a lot of torque to do so. With Great Trepidation he removed the Flywheel and eyeballed the Interface. The Interface didn't look very good. Kinda blotchy and torn up. Until the Maestro realized that he was looking at the remains of the Soft Iron Gasket! Once he removed the Soft iron gasket, the surface of the Flywheel seemed more normal. But there were slightly "raised" sections around the dowel pin holes of the Flywheel. Oooooh. Looks like the Flywheel/Crank interface almost lost it. The Soft Iron Gasket gave its life to the Missed Shift. One more would have surely done it in. And that explains the Oil Leak on the clutch too! The soft iron gasket was no longer doing what it was supposed to do- to keep oil from getting through the dowel pins and onto the Clutch Disk. Whew! And the crank was indeed an Original Replacement late 912 Style Crank. The one with the thicker flanges connecting the rod throws. And it was Still a Good Standard. And it passed Mag. The Maestro placed the parts from the White car's engine into the various cleaners, and left for the day. The next day, as he was cleaning the heads in the Safety Kleen tank, he noticed that one Cylinder Head had TWO welded spark plug holes (not a good sign). The other Head had a Great Big crack from a spark plug hole all the way to the Intake Valve Seat. Not good. But it wasn't until the Maestro put the heads out to dry and returned to the Safety Kleen tank when he noticed Something Unusual lying on the shelf of the tank. He picked it up. It was a VALVE SEAT! Specifically, it was an Intake Valve Seat from the Cylinder Head that had the Big Crack from the spark plug hole- to the INTAKE VALVE SEAT. That crack relieved the "press" that holds the Valve Seat in place. With no "press", the valve seat was loose in the Head and fell out on the Maestro's cleaning shelf. Now there were Ten Little Reasons for an engine overhaul. So how come that loose valve seat that FELL OUT when the Maestro was cleaning the Heads DIDN'T fall out when the Maestro was DRIVING THE CAR??? How come? 'Cause the Porsche gods wanted it that way. OK? You got a problem with that? Encouraged by these Certain Unmistakable Signs from the Porsche gods, the Maestro began a One-Week Restoration. With the engine out of the White SC, the Maestro had access to all the important areas. First he cleaned out the inside of the Transaxle Bellhousing. Lotsa fun. While there under the car, he replaced all the fabric fuel lines with new German 7mm stuff. Ifin he hadn't just done it now would be the time to change the transmission fluid. And the Transmission Mounts too. Especially ifin they're soggy and drooping. Let us not forget the Starter. Time for a rebuild? Or the Bell Crank on the side of the Transmission for the Carb linkage. Grab it. Move it. Is it sloppy? Is it hard to move AND sloppy? Remove it. Clean it. FIX it. Time too, to check out the "U-Joint" at the front of the Transmission. Peel back that convoluted rubber boot that covers the shifter at the nose of the transmission and eyeball the plastic inside the "eyes" of the "U-joint". Ifin you don't see any plastic and the shifter is "way loose", you have just found the problem. And what about Brakes and brake lines? And fixing that flaking undercoating? And that throw-out bearing, cross shaft and clutch cable. Don't forget them either. Then, you can turn around 180 degrees and clean out the engine compartment of its 30-year accumulation of dirt, grease, oil and whatever. Takes many rags or two rolls of paper towels, a can or two of WD-40 and a can or two of Bathroom Cleaner, but that compartment will look a lot better afterwards. You can also check the sheet metal of the engine compartment that encircles the engine. Ifin the lip is bent TOWARDS the front of the car, it'll sometimes grab the engine as it come up. So take a ball peen or body shop hammer and skillfully rearrange the sheet metal lip as necessary. Follow up the cleaning a day or so later (allowing things to dry), with a can of undercoating for the worst of the tar paper and flat black paint for the Cardboard. And some 3-M Super weather-stripping adhesive and the right length 2X4 is just what the Doctor ordered for gluing and holding the drooping insulation back into place around the Regulator. Ifin you do it all Right, it's a good One-Week Restoration. And the Maestro did his best. Now it was Trusty's Turn. At first, Trusty tried to fight. His Sears Heavy Duty Marine Battery first registered Absolutely Zero on the Maestro's Super Dooper 6 AND 12 Volt Battery Charger. Even on the 12 Volt "Start" Option, the HIGHEST possible charging option and, for a 6-volt battery, a dangerous one indeed, nothing showed on the charging ammeter. The Maestro couldn't believe a battery could be THAT dead. But as he watched the needle began to move ever so sloooowly. One Amp. Two Amps. Three Amps. After a minute, a 40 amp charge rate was achieved and the charger switched back to 6 Volt mode. Eventually, the battery began to charge. The Maestro had breakfast and came back out to Trusty. He fired right up with no problem. The Maestro drove Trusty over to his shop with no problem, save for the awfully low brake pedal. Trusty never seemed to run better. The Maestro backed Trusty into the Shop, butt to butt with the White 356 where Trusty's engine would soon go, so they could get to know each other. And had lunch. Cleverly letting Trusty's Engine cool while he ate, the Maestro planned the next step. Finishing lunch, he went out, disconnected Trusty's Battery, turned off the gas and began pulling the engine. Trusty's engine came out in 15.356 minutes. The Maestro eyeballed Trusty's Pressure Plate. After 70,000+ miles the fingers of the pressure plate were out noticeably from the hub of the disk. Yep, there be wear here. Huuhhm thought the Maestro, eyeballing the clutches of both engines. The White Car's Clutch is "too tight", meaning it "grabs" way out at the top of the clutch pedal. Ifin I leave Trusty's Clutch on like it is, I'll have to adjust the White Car's Clutch Cable too. But ifin I REPLACE the disk, I might not have to adjust her clutch cable! So the Maestro did a Quick & Dirty Clutch job. First he pulled off the Pressure Plate, which was of course marked with Jay's Balancing mark, so that it could be reassembled that way again. And yes, after 70,000 miles, much clutch disk had turned to dust. Which was now inhabiting the area around the inner circumference of the Flywheel. The Maestro cleaned that all out, got a new 200mm clutch disk and installed it. Now, the fingers if the Pressure Plate were quite close to the Clutch Disk Hub- like they should be when things are new. He cleaned up Trusty's Sheet metal too, making him look as spiffy as possible for a 10-year old thrown-together-in-a-hurry engine. Then it was UP with the White Car's Right Side. Sliddddd Trusty's Engine underneath. Lower the White Car around the Engine. Using Principles first proposed by Archimedies, lift the engine up onto the jack. Jack up engine. Eyeball engine studs. Line them up with the holes in the Transmission Case. Push Forward. Trusty's Engine mustave wanted to be there, 'cause it sure went into the White Car smoooooth as silk. The Maestro was so encouraged by this that he fixed all kinds of other little problems too. Turned out that Trusty's coat-hanger like carb linkage connector was a better fit for the White Car. That seemed appropriate. Also appropriate was a Nice Powder Painted Rear Plate, so that Trusty's Original rusty one could be repainted and recycled. Even the thermostat was added to the Fan Shroud so the Carb Air Heater would actually function, if so desired. The Maestro finished hooking up the coil/tach/temperature/pressure and generator wires, the fuel line and the carb linkage. It was time for the Final Test. He hooked up the battery and turned the gas to "on". And hit the key. The White car's starter cranked. And Trusty's Engine fired up with a ROAR that shook the feces out of Loco Endangered Species. Yep, Trusty's Engine liked being in the White Car. The Maestro eyeballed the instruments. They worked. Even the gas gauge which hadn't worked before worked now. Another Porsche god had pointed his finger, clicked and Viola, 30+year old Instruments that work. Even the Instrument LIGHTS worked! The clock's light too! (Although the clock itself is forever stuck at High Noon or Darkest Midnight, depending on your particular fears.) The Maestro put the clutch pedal down and gingerly eased the Shifter into Reverse, half expecting a bad GNASHING sound from the Transmission, indicating that the Clutch Cable would have to be adjusted. Nothing happened. No noise. That's Good. Very slooooooowly, the Maestro let out the clutch pedal. A perfect "couple of inches offa the floor", the Clutch began to grab and the Lady in White began to move backwards a little. Not bad, thought the Maestro, realizing that he had an almost perfect adjustment on the clutch. Thank you, Porsche god of Clutches, and boy am I glad I replaced the disk. The Maestro cleaned everything up and himself too and took the White car out with Trusty's Engine in her for the First Test Drive. And, Oh What a difference a Good Engine makes to a 356! Where was once a snail-like take-off- where it mattered not ifin the Gas Pedal were not touched or FLOORED, you took off ever so slooooooowly! Now, with Trusty's engine, the White Car went like a scalded cat. Where once there was Absolutely NOOOOO Torque on Take-off, now there was Torque, Torque, Glorious Torque! It was intuitively Obvious to the Most Casual Observer that Trusty's Engine liked the idea of being so close to a Near Virgin. What a Transformation! She was now a Pleasure to Drive. The Maestro had to push Trusty Rusty out of the Shop to get the White SC car out, and the thought of keeping Trusty outside was just too much for the Maestro. So after the Test Drive, he pushed Trusty Rusty back inside the Shop. At least Trusty could rest inside for a while longer. The Maestro once again cleaned up, and called Mrs. Maestro to tell her she needn't pick him up, for he was a-driving hisself home that very evening in his New 356! And drive home he did- marveling at how much difference a Real Good Engine makes to a 356. Jerry Seinfeld sure knows that difference. Before, did people look at you funny, pointing at the smoke coming out the back? Or did they cover their ears to protect them from the funny noises coming from YOUR car? All while giving you the Hairy Eyeball? Not anymore! The White SC's Original Transmission kept the engine revs low enough so the Sony Stereo could play the Maestro's Favorite Tunes at audible levels. (Trusty's Carrera Transmission with the "A" 4th Gear and a weak radio meant that having Tunes while "Cruising" at 4500 RPM on the Freeway were Mutually Exclusive.) Now the Maestro could have his Oldies and Cruise too! Such a Deal. But it wasn't until a couple of weeks after Trusty's Engine had been installed in the Near Virgin in Off-White that the Maestro realized he had a Special Car. When the Maestro told Andrew, his now 10.67 year old son about the Marvels of the Porsche gods, Andrew was Skeptical,. "So what Dad? The "Eerie Glow" you saw coming from the car was NOT from the Porsche gods- it was the Interior light." "And," continued Andrew. "The fact that the radio suddenly started working again, that was the bad connection. Nothing god-like about that!" "And the wires coming off the Ignition Switch right at the Shop. That's mere Coincidence." "And the Clutch becoming "adjusted" again was because you replaced the disk with as NEW one. So, the Pedal was right again. Big Deal." But the Maestro had the Ace of Trump when it came to Proving the Existence of the Porsche gods. "OK, Boy. You say there are no "Porsche gods". I KNOW there ARE Porsche gods. And now I can prove it. "Whaddya mean? How can you prove it?" asked Andrew, suspiciously. "How's about this," said the Maestro If the Probability of a series of events is sufficiently vanishingly small to be equal, say to one Atom per Universe, we can assume that's a close to impossible as we can get. "Yeah, so, what's your point. Said Andrew. It's this. Said the Maestro. Today I was given a Certain Unmistakable Sign from the Porsche Gods." "Oh, and what was that? asked Andrew. A Fax?" "More direct. Just listen and you will learn. Maybe." Andrew shut up. The Maestro continued. "Today, I drove the White SC over to pay my last overdue bill of 1996. I paid it and returned to the car." "So, what's your Point, asked Andrew. "I returned to the car, repeated the Maestro and put the key in and went to start it." "Yeah, so what's your point." "So, I put the key in and started the car" "WHAT'S THE POINT DAD???" "And that's when I looked down at the key and realized it wasn't the White Car's Key. By habit I had used TRUSTY RUSTY'S KEY!!!" "Wow, Dad. You mean Trusty Rusty's Key STARTED THE WHITE CAR!!??? I don't believe it. Why that's MAGIC!" "No, said the Maestro. "That's merely the Mysterious Workings of the Porsche gods." "Geez, Dad, I don't know. The odds of a Random key fitting another random lock is, by definition, very small. But still,..." "Andrew, my boy, let me give you a Very Important Pieced of Advice. As my Physical Chemistry Professor once said to ME at MIT when I questioned The Law of Large Numbers. He merely looked me in the eye and said: "Boy, you'd best Believe It!" And YES it was true! Boy, was it ever! Trusty's key fit the Whiter Car. Trusty had accepted his Fate. Willingly. And the Porsche gods let there presence be known unequivocally. Trusty had willingly donated his engine so that Others Might Live. Live a Good Life. Maybe a Hellova Life. He even donated his KEY, so that the Maestro might forever remember him. The Maestro really liked that. And Andrew may have become a Believer. The Maestro certainly Believes- both in the Law of Large Numbers and: The 356 FAITH! And you'd better too.