
by Andy Kress
| A |
s some of you may know, I’ve been "building" a Giulia Super for just about as long as I can remember. My original plan, and (amazingly) still my current plan, is to build this thing as a very strong street and track car. The scheme called for doing as much of it as I could myself as a learning experience. It doesn’t have to be built to a "concours" level, but a decent level of finish would be nice. It will never be accepted by any reputable sanctioning body, but should be the perfect tool for socially irresponsible motoring—a fun street and club time trial car. The "plan" called for a big, strong Spica two-litre engine, Electromotive ignition, lightened 5-speed transmission, LSD, lowered suspension, big brakes, full cage, no interior, etc.
Well, after a couple of false starts, and several hiatuses due to employment issues, honeydew issues, and the annual effects/results of working in an unheated garage (i.e. absolutely nothing happening from November to April), a great deal of time had passed. But the car had now actually reached the stage where it was time to put things back together.
Lots of parts had been accumulated; all of the body work and painting that was going to be done had been done. Suspension upgraded, installed. LSD installed. Cage welded in. The entire rear of the car had been rewired. Engine machine work had been finished, but the engine not yet built. I had purchased and installed an entire (recently rebuilt) engine and transmission from a club member, and installed it as a test dummy to check the fitment of things like headers, brake piping layout, and as a wiring template.
Some of the tasks that remained were simple (things like fuel lines [the tank is in], brake lines, wiring forward of the driver, battery, etc.), and they were not being worked on because of inertia. However, some of the issues were actually beyond my ability/skill/courage/tool level. Two of the biggest outstanding projects were finishing the suspended pedal adaptation and finishing (i.e. fabricating) the entire exhaust, post collector. Both of these were solidly in the "beyond my ability etc." category.
The exhaust currently ended at the back of the collector, just under the pedals, and, due to sizing and layout issues, would never mate up to a stock exhaust (stock is way too small). It was probably not going to pass state inspection this way, never mind Lime Rock noise levels. Tubing, hangers, and mufflers all had to be made from scratch and installed.
The pedals are a thornier problem—suspended pedals require a hole in the firewall. Since my car had no such hole in its firewall, I had to cut one, and placement seemed like it would be a critical issue. When I started the pedal box project, I had spent a great deal of time bothering Brian Shorey, who happened to have a GTV stripped of everything in its engine bay including the pedal box. But the steering column and box were still in place—perfect for me. Since my car had no such hole in its firewall, I had to cut one, and placement seemed like it would be a critical issue. I used Brian’s car to make elaborate templates and measurements of the exact layout of the hole. Finally, convinced that I had the dimensions close enough, I took the paper templates to Dennis Black’s shop where the Super lay. I used the templates to lay out the cut marks on the Super’s firewall, and Dennis cut away with his Sawzall. Just before he started drilling and cutting, I commented, "I hope this works because, if we’re off, I’ll have to throw the car away." Dennis didn’t seem too worried, perhaps because it wasn’t his car. I chose to think it was because he knew what he was doing and was just confident. He made the cuts, pounded various areas of the firewall into appropriate shapes, made some braces and welded them in. Amazingly, it worked! I was ecstatic and relieved all at the same time. The pedals hung at the correct height and were evenly spaced around the steering column. Only later, when I had the car back at my house and made a more thorough assessment, did I realize that the pedal box wasn’t quite high enough to allow the clutch pivot arm to clear the seam where the firewall and inner fender meets. "DOH!!!" If it had been higher by about ½ inch or so, I could have simply pounded the firewall back to give clearance. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure that there was enough clearance between the pedal box and the hood to raise it any further. Plus, the pedals hang at just the right height in the cockpit. In spite of those concerns, that seam has to be pretty structural and I didn’t want to cut it apart. I wanted to try raising the box, thus simplifying the whole clutch pivot arm clearance thing. These were projects that were out of my league, and I was stalled here.
I received a phone call from Eliot Shanabrook one day in early September that went roughly like this: "You know the convention will be here a lot sooner than you think. You really need to get the Super finished so you can run it at the Convention. How about if we schedule a group "work on the Super day"—sort of like an old-fashioned barn raising? I can get Tyler to help with the exhaust." Even I couldn’t come up with a good reason not to do it, and I knew it would actually be a lot of fun. Tyler is Eliot’s longtime friend—he strayed somewhat and got hooked on a Datsun 510 that he now races in SCCA Vintage classes with Eliot—so it wouldn’t be an all-Alfa-owner day. However, if there was ever a car historically linked to Alfa (at least in the US), it has to be the 510. So he’s related by history—plus he has a MIG welder. In the end, these have to be considered impeccable credentials.
I outlined my major stumbling blocks, and we made a "to-do" list and a shopping list of items that would be needed to move us off the dime. Eliot’s last comment a few days before THE DAY was, "Come hell or high water, we’re not going home until we get that car running!" I said "That’s great!!!!" However, I was really thinking, "Yeah, right. I don’t even know if this engine will even turn over , never mind fire and run!" When I bought it, I was told that it had been "recently" rebuilt. But I had never turned it over, never mind checking cam timing, or distributor timing—and forget about the Spica timing! Plus, I didn’t even know where my distributor was (never mind if it worked). We picked a Saturday in October that everyone could make, and I started on my homework assignments. Pulled all the plugs, poured oil into the cylinders, and turned the engine over many times (by hand). Well, that was a relief! Ordered a bunch of parts, and planned refreshments!
Saturday morning came bright and sunny, with temperatures forecast to go into the 70s! It could not have been a more perfect day for this project. Eliot showed up early, and we rolled the Super out from the garage and put it up on jack stands as high as we could. Tyler showed up next, and the cutting and welding commenced. Eliot and Tyler spent most of the day under the car, and the exhaust system came out perfect! Anthony Parillo came over with his compressor and tools, and we set up the rest of the project. Jonathan Kirshtein came by for a little while to add a little levity to his day, and ended up staying the whole day. John Legelis arrived and then Jim Scutti. With such a big crew, it actually became difficult to keep everyone busy! Eliot and Tyler concentrated on the exhaust. John and Jonathan concentrated on the fuel system—lines, connecting hoses, filters, etc. A quick consultation from the welders—no one wanted to tackle shifting the firewall hole up—too much work to undo and then redo. So, reluctantly I agreed to cut the seam at the junction.
Jim volunteered to tackle the firewall project. I think the prospect of holding that monster Sawzall and going at it really appealed to him. I knew I couldn’t do it! We measured and marked, and measured again, and again. I held my breath and Jim attacked! The good news is that the box fits fine now, and the clutch pivot arm clears—molto bene!
Anthony and I installed the radiator and the new hoses that had arrived just the day before, plugged all the coolant passages not necessary for running the engine, and added water. No apparent leaks.
By now, it was getting late. The guys had been hard at work all day long. We were getting tired, and it was starting to get cooler and darker. We had to push if we were going to reach our stated goal before the day ended.
The exhaust completed, I mentioned that with only the one Flowmaster racing muffler I was afraid it would still be REALLY LOUD. I hoped that the noise wouldn’t scare the big buck horses at the mega-farm across the street into a panicked frenzy, breaking legs and necks on the fencing. I was not looking forward to talking to any attorneys.
Eliot and Tyler welded all the Spica brackets in the engine bay, and I mounted all the Spica hardware.
Getting to the short strokes, John & Jonathan completed a jury-rigged fuel line and we connected it to the filter housings and then to the pump. Poured a gallon or so of gas into the fuel tank.
Battery in the driveway, we ran a GTV6 battery cable to the starter motor, and alligator-clipped some leads to the fuel pump, coil, and whatever else we thought needed electricity to start the engine. This was beginning to look more and more like a science project!
Power on—and fuel squirted all over the place. OOPS—re-tightened all the junctions stem to stern. Re-tightened them again! Now that the fluids were under control, we started chasing the electrons. Engine was turning over, but no fire. Quick check of the distributor showed that it was past help. Points and rotor were old and crappy—no telling how bad it was. Yanked it out, and swapped for an extra that Eliot had the presence of mind to bring along. More cranking showed promise with some huffing and definitely some puffing. Time spent adjusting the distributor timing ran the battery flat. Managia! Quickly jumpered from the pickup’s battery and the engine coughed a little. Went again, and damned if the thing didn’t fire up! Ran really rough for a little while, so we brought out the timing light, adjusted, and the idle smoothed out some. Then, as the engine warmed up, it smoothed out more and made proper Alfa Romeo noises. No leaks, everything seemed to be OK. We twisted the throttle bell crank to bigger and bigger openings, and it made BEAUTIFUL, BIG, LOUD, STRONG Alfa Romeo noises. I have to say it was a very satisfying sound.
We were all pretty tired by now, so we let the engine idle for just a little more, and shut it off. Just as our attention was drifting toward the beer, the engine gave off a single, enormous, backfire BANG. It was too much—everyone burst into uncontrollable, hysterical laughter that went on for a solid five minutes! That bang finished up the day, and we pushed the car back into the garage.
Beers gone, friends gone, I spent an hour or so cleaning up
and reflecting on how much we had accomplished in those few hours. This project
required a lot of fabrication from scratch, and that demands much more time and
effort than simply reassembling something. First, you have to figure what you
need to do, and then how you are going to do it, and finally do it! Then do it
again when you realize it isn’t quite right! We accomplished so much in so
little time, but to me it was more satisfying and enjoyable because of the
company. Good friends, great day, and no letters from horse owners’ attorneys!
Thanks to all of you!![]()
[Andy Kress is Drag Racing Commissioner for the 2004 AROC National Convention.]
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