Another Model A adventure starting soon

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People who thru-hike the Appalachian Trail revere those they term 'trail angels,' people who go out of their way to assist and succor those masochists deranged enough to walk nearly 2,200 miles with their possessions and food on their backs.

For my crazy old car drives, I have been fortunate to encounter similar folks; I call them 'trip angels.'

Here's Mark Adler, of Mechanicsburg, PA, the anointer of cap and rotor. He will not be the last trip angel to enter my life on this journey.

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While contemplating the perfidy of ignition components, I suddenly noticed the keyring the seller had the car's key on. I don't think he got this one at Wallyworld.

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Model A adventure 2023 - episode 3

'Slightly' broken down tonight in Sparta, NC, but the details about that will have to wait until a later episode.

After pushing the car into the Holiday Inn Express lot in Carlisle, PA, and snagging their very last room, I crashed, wanting to sleep on the running problem. My subconscious mind came to feel that the problem was electrical in nature, and not fuel-related. The item I focused on was the electronic module that replaces the points in the FS Ignition fitted to the car, thinking that perhaps it was failing when it got hot and would start working again when it cooled off.

In discussing the situation with trip angel #1 Mark Adler, he suggested I call FS Ignitions in Ponca City, OK, and get their input and advice. He also gave me the number of Warren Sukor in MD, another one of the dedicated Model A club members who staff the 'trouble tents' at national Model A club events in the northeast. Warren was out of town for two days so he hooked me up with Fred Chapman of Gettysburg, PA, another member of the Model A 'trouble tent' troop.

My first conversation was with Shawn Buller, one of the two partners who are FS Ignitions. He was extremely helpful, pointing me to troubleshooting info on the FS website, and emailed me additional information as well as two videos.

The gist of his info was that, like all electronic systems, the FS ignition needs voltage inputs in the designed ranges, as well as good, clean, low-resistance grounds at several points. Shawn indicated that these were the issues they consistently encountered when people have trouble with their ignition system products. He also informed me that on the rare occasions their ignition modules failed, it was virtually always a total failure, and not a 'works, doesn't work, then works again' situation.

"Greg, based on what you've told me, I think your problem is a failing ignition coil.”

Fred Chapman returned my call after lunch and said he'd grab some tools and parts and head my way after he got off work at 3 pm, a minimum 45-minute drive. I related Shawn's opinion that it was a failing/bad coil and Fred said he would bring a known good one. (As an aside, Fred owns nine Model As, several inherited from his father, as well as a half-dozen or so muscle cars from the ‘60s.)

When Fred arrived, chauffeured by his lovely wife Sharon, we decided to change out the coil first, as it's an easy swap, and see what happened. Sure enough, the car fired right up but it was still running rich, with lots of fuel dribbling out of the carb.

We then decided to pull the carb and take a look inside. To my utter chagrin, the 'caged' float needle assembly I had reinstalled after we tore the carb down in Hershey had vibrated three turns loose! My concerns about the strength of the zinc-based material the Tillotson carbs are cast from led me to tighten it insufficiently into the carb top. Fred cranked it back in place with such force that I was afraid he was going to strip out the hole! It ain't coming loose now; in fact, it may never be able to be removed again…

After a few minor idle mixture and speed adjustments, I took it for a test drive a few times around the hotel and on several adjacent streets and the car ran perfectly. I paid Fred for the coil and insisted he take some bucks for gas and thanked him and Sharon profusely. And they then headed back to Gettysburg.

Since I had already booked a second night at the Holiday Inn Express, I went back to my room, ordered some food to be delivered, and slept soundly for the first night in several days.

Trip angel total: five in three days and there will be at least one more...

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Model A adventure 2023 - episode 4

After a second night at the Holiday Inn Express south of Carlisle, PA, and fortified by what was likely to be the best complimentary breakfast I would enjoy on this trip, it was time to get on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Since I was at an exit on Interstate I-81, I decided initially to utilize that road to head south, as several people said that if I just headed down I-81, I would see signage directing me to the parkway.

My friend Eliot Brenner had messaged me a few days earlier to let him know when I was going to be near Front Royal, VA, so we could meet for coffee or a meal, and I gave him a call as that town was along my day's route. Alas, my short notice caught him scheduled for an audition for a bluegrass band he wanted to join and it wasn't going to be possible for us to hook up. Eliot is a very interesting character; not only is he a skilled musician and a serious Jaguar car nut, he's the retired public affairs officer for the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.

Eliot suggested I jump off I-81, with its enormous volume of heavy truck traffic, and pick up US-11 at Strasburg, VA, which parallels the interstate and, according to Eliot, is a beautiful drive. "When it connects with Hwy 250, take a left and it'll take you right to the parkway," he said. He was correct about the the pretty US-11 drive, but after making the left on Hwy 250, it got confusing as that road split into business and regular versions and there was no signage pointing me to the parkway. Neither my Rand McNally road atlas nor my map app was much help and after a few obviously incorrect choices, when I saw an I-81 entrance ahead, I figured I would just resume the original plan.

Wrong choice. As soon as I came around the hill that blocked my view of the interstate, it was clear that there was a huge traffic jam as far as the eye could see, almost 90% of the traffic being semis. But I was already on the entrance ramp and it was too late to turn back, so I figured I'd just gut it out. Another wrong choice. My map app showed red for miles ahead and I soon realized that traffic was barely moving. It took nearly an hour to get to the next entrance ramp a couple of miles ahead, with long periods of no movement at all. I had had enough and turned right to get off I-81 by going the wrong way up the entrance ramp. Just a single car was getting on and by the look on his face as he passed me pulled aside on the grass to get out of his way, he was not a happy camper. At the top of the ramp, I asked Siri to take me to the Blue Ridge Parkway, and she eventually did, although she was aiming me at the start of the parkway, and I actually joined it at mile 18. Finally!

It was like entering another world. A 45 mph speed limit, no commercial traffic, no telephone poles, no advertising, no stores of any kind, and no gas stations, this last being of concern as the Model A has just an 11-gallon tank and gets roughly 16 mpg. On the upper part of the parkway, there are few exits leading to nearby gas and I did stop at one of the park's info stations to ask where the next place I could get fuel was; fortunately, it was not very far ahead. Opportunities for gas were more frequent and more obvious as I proceeded down the parkway.

The plan was to get to Roanoke before stopping for the night and the ugly traffic jam and my fumbling around with my routing had put me later than planned; I wanted to get there before dark. There was so little traffic on this part of the parkway, I started pushing it a bit. Lots of twists and turns worked to keep my average down, but there were enough straights I could channel my inner Nuvolari a lot. The brakes kept getting better and better as the shoes bedded in and while I didn't actually scare myself, there were a few times I was a bit surprised at how tight a particular curve turned out to be. I'm sure I exceeded the 45 limit numerous times and cleared 60 more than once. All good fun... and happily no park rangers were encountered.

I did reach Roanoke before dark and pulled in the the first McD's I saw to use the wi-fi and to charge my phone. I plugged everything in, quickly booked a room at a hotel in Salem, VA, and then went to the front counter to buy a drink. The manager handed me a cup and then refused my money, as they had closed the lobby a few minutes earlier (at 9 pm on a Friday night!) and had already shut down the counter registers. A glance outside showed the still-open drive-thru line was wrapped around the building. After a few more minutes of charging, I beat an exit and found a good pizza place a few blocks away that was actually open until 10 pm. They were nice enough to plug my phone in behind the counter so it could get more fully charged.

Then off to my Pricelined hotel, which on the map didn't seem like a 25-minute drive away, but it was. The room was OK, but when I slipped into the first bed, not only were the sheets as rough as 220-grit sandpaper, the top sheet would only come up to the middle of my chest and must've been nailed at the foot, as it couldn't be pulled further up. In the other bed, at least the top sheet came up to cover my shoulders

The next morning I encountered the sparsest 'continental breakfast' I've ever seen anywhere. Mini-bagels the size of silver dollars, mini-muffins the size of half dollars, and oranges (clementines probably) barely bigger than golf balls. That was it. The mini-cooler only contained a few of the smallest bottles of water they make. At least there was coffee and tea bags. Being a cheap barstool regarding hotels sometimes has its disadvantages…

The Model A ran flawlessly all day and, of course, drew lots of attention when and wherever I stopped.

I know I have been promising photos, but there just hasn't been time to get them posted. A bit more trouble with the car has also had an impact, as you will read soon. I'll definitely add some pics to these episodes when I can.

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Model A adventure 2023 - episode 5

Saturday morning, after a bit of caffeination, I loaded up and head back toward Roanoke and the Blue Ridge Parkway. It's a straight shot from Salem along US 460 (Orange Ave.), but a large part of the early going is through an older section of the city infested with stoplights, seemingly one every block or two. And, of course, a high percentage of them stopped me with no traffic to let across. Needless stoplight are the bane of my existence…

I'd spotted a Waffle House when I got off the parkway the day before and wanted to stop there for breakfast before resuming my trek. Being Saturday morning, they were slammed, with every booth full and just two adjacent stools at the counter open. I took one of the stools, with a very large 'biker dude' to my left, I'd estimate 350 pounds or more, and we had a nice chat about the car. The wait staff was way behind; I sat there at least ten minutes without being offered coffee and heard one waitress tell a patron she'd be right with him as soon as she washed some silverware, as they were out of it.

There were now two empty stools next to me and these were quickly taken by a man and a woman, with the woman next to me. Wasn't more than a minute before the obviously-annoyed man, yelled over at me, "Hey, buddy, give my wife a little room, will ya?" Sitting on a stool doesn't give one much leeway, so I guess my elbow was intruding on her space by an inch or two. After a few moments, still with no notice from the waitress, I abandoned the idea of breakfast and headed back to the car.

The return to the parkway was a longer ride than I remembered, and I was delayed when I read a sign wrong. It directed me to the Blue Ridge 'Library' and into a dead end. I finally found the right route and resume heading south.

Haven't said much about the wildlife I've seen, which hasn't been considerable, but there nonetheless. A couple of hen turkeys and numerous deer, all does as best I could tell. Usually just a single deer alongside the road, which scampered off as soon as they heard the noisy old car approaching. Did see a doe and a fawn right after getting on the parkway and later, a doe and two fawns, which I believe is unusual.

The car was running quite well most of the day, but if I had been paying attention, I might have known what was coming. I noticed that I was feeling more hot air on my throttle foot than prevously and recall wondering why that might be the case. Also, the car starting to backfire slightly on throttle closure, not loud backfires, just litle pops, and that had not happened before.

At the entrance to the Blue Ridge Music Center near Galax, VA, I pulled over to let the following cars get by and hit a hidden pothole that jarred the car so hard it knocked my cellphone out of the holder suction-cupped to the windshield. I was sure I had damaged something, a wheel or a tire, but luckily, no. A few miles further signs alerted me to a detour off the parkway due to road and bridge construction.

Just before the detour routed traffic off the parkway, I pulled into a scenic overlook area to stretch my legs and take in the scenery. When I started the car to leave, I was startled by extremely loud exhaust noise. Opening the right side of the hood revealed that the exhaust pipe had become disconnected from the exhaust manifold!

The exhaust system on a Model A is just two pieces: the manifold which attaches to the cylinder head and a one-piece exhaust pipe and muffler assembly which goes all the way to the rear of the car. The manifold and the exhaust pipe terminate in small bell-mouths, with a triangular cross-section gland or gasket between them, all squeezed together by a two-piece clamp. The nuts on the clamp had vibrated loose, allowing the exhaust pipe to fall down. Fortunately, the seller had installed longer bolts than really necessary, so that when the joint fell apart, all the clamp pieces remained, even the gland. It was going to be an easy repair... once everything cooled down.

A few loud miles down the parkway, I had to take the detour, which soon took me into the small town of Sparta, NC. As I entered town, I saw a restaurant named Crave where the parking lot was almost completely full. I was intrigued as to why that would be, so I pulled in and parked in the grass at the back of the lot. I discovered that it was the restaurant's 'all you can eat' crab legs day! Time for a decent dinner for a change. There was a long waiting list but a seat at the bar was open and the nice lady there plugged in my nearly-dead cellphone to charge while I ate a great, though messy, meal. Locals advised that there was only one hotel in town and it turned out to be a very good one, perhaps the best I one I stayed at other than the Holiday Inn Express (which cost nearly twice as much).

After my meal, I sat outside on a bench next to a nice Harley rider (his attire proved it without a doubt) and we discussed my exhaust system issue. When I mentioned that I anticipated problems retightening the clamp with a single 9/16" wrench, when I really needed two, one for each end of the bolt, he went to his Harley's saddle bag and pulled out a 9/16" Craftsman wrench to give me. When I offered to leave it for him at the hotel, he told me not to bother; he'd found it on the road and didn't need it back. Please believe me when I tell you angels are everywhere, if you only take the time to recognise them. And sometimes they ride Harleys…

I could have fixed the exhaust that night, but it simply made more sense to stay the night in Sparta and continue on the next day. So that's what I did.

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A pic from the first day on the parkway. Part of an old logging railroad.

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Sign at the logging exhibit.

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A view from one of the overlooks. Sadly, the first few days were so hazy, perhaps from the Canadian fires, that I couldn't get any decent shots. But, honestly, I could have taken perhaps hundreds of fabulous views from the overlooks.

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Is this a car selfie?

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Model A adventure 2023 - episode 6

After my 'enforced' stay at the highly-recommended Alleghany Inn in Sparta, NC, it was time to reattach the exhaust pipe to the manifold. No quibbles about the complimentary breakfast, because these wasn't one. The nice desk clerk Brandon indicated that they normally directed guests to the diner across the street but that it was closed until Tuesday. Better no comp breakfast than a bad one IMO, but they did have coffee, which is the most important part anyway.

Reattaching the exhaust pipe really requires three hands, which obviously I don't have, and I was happy to have willing assistance from two more trip angels staying at the hotel, Bubba and his friend whose name I cannot recall. One of these kind gentlemen grabbed a bag of tools from his truck, and his sockets and wrench were a material help. The job took no more than fifteen minutes to complete. After the clamp was fully tightened, I took the diagonal cutters I had with me to 'bugger' the threads next to the nuts to prevent them from vibrating loose again.

After checking out of the hotel, and complimenting Brandon on their quality of the lodging, I took a left turn to continue on the detour back to the parkway. The detour, while adding considerable mileage, was a very pleasant interlude from the ridge-top route of the parkway. It went through numerous small towns connected by picturesque valleys and hollows, with the trees often forming green tunnels to traverse, one of my favorite features.

Eventually, I regained the official parkway, which started on a long downhill section. While not trying to speed, I nonetheless intentionally worked the brakes hard, to continue the process of 'bedding-in' the brake shoes to the cast-iron drums. As this trip has progressed, I had been seeing more evidence of a bit of overheating, with foaming water coming out from beneath the 'flying quail' mascot atop the radiator. As I was going downhill and not using a lot of throttle, I had not kept an eye on the thermometer extending from the quali's breast to the radiator cap. Just before a scenic overlook turn-off, the car erupted in a cloud of steam, and I quickly pulled off the road.

The steam subsided within a few minutes, but I knew I was in a pickle, as I only had about half of a large bottle of water with me. There were a lot of cars stopped that this overlook, and once I made my need known, almost everyone contributed to my cause. Some gave a bottle or two, a few girls emptied the contents of their refillable water bottles into the radiator, and one nice gentleman gifted me with half of a bundle of water bottles, remarking that he still had a full unopened bundle with him. There really are angels everywhere.

I ended up with a full radiator and more than a half dozen extra bottles of water. I waited a while to allow the car to cool down before proceeding down the parkway at a more sedate pace. As long I didn't rev the engine up in second gear or pushed hard in top gear, there was no further evidence of overheating.

My destination today was Asheville, NC, where I hopefully would spend my last night in a hotel before arriving home. After exiting the parkway, I headed for the nearest McDonald's to take advantage of their free wi-fi and to charge my phone. When I entered the restaurant, I noticed that all of the wall outlets were blanked off with metal covers and there were notices posted in many places prohibiting 'loitering' for more than 30 minutes. McD's has in past promoted their free wi-fi strongly, so I found this curious. Thought of inquiring whether this was a corporate store or a franchisee (I suspect the latter), but just turned around and walked out.

Chose an Econo Lodge down the road because their sign promised low rates and that was true. The unusual part was they wanted a $60 'deposit' over and above the room cost; it was to be returned at checkout (and was). Never seen this before. Thought they would check the room out before refunding, but that was not the case. The room itself was fine, but the facilty was almost empty, perhaps three or four cars on the side I was on, with maybe 20-25 rooms.

For some reason, I thought the Blue Ridge Parkway ended in Asheville, but it actually continues on to Cherokee, NC, and I was determined to travel its entire length. So after a decent night's sleep, that is what I plan to do.

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Model A adventure 2023 - episode 7 - home at last!

It was the best of days, it was the worst of days (apologies to Dickens).

After filling the radiator full of water, refilling a number of the empty bottles I had saved, and checking out of the Econo Lodge in Asheville (when my mysterious $60 'deposit' was returned), I retraced the short distance back to the Blue Ridge Parkway to travel on south toward Cherokee.

This section of the parkway features noticeably steeper and longer climbs, as well as more and longer tunnels. Second gear got a lot more use than previously. The upside is that I feel the views are more spectacular. It also seems to receive more traffic as compared to the northern portion of the parkway. The weather, which had been a bit rainy overnight in Asheville, had cleared and big, puffy clouds served to keep the temps moderated and the views very visible.

I didn't stop to sightsee much on this trip, as I needed to be back in Norcross by Friday, July 7, and the day that the failing coil cost me near Carlisle made my timeframe a little tighter.

I did stop at the 3,500-acre Moses Cone Memorial Park north of Linville for a walk through the historic mansion at Flat Rock. Cone made his fortune in textiles, and has been termed the 'King of Denim,' as for a time he and his brother produced a third of the world's supply of that material in their North Carolina factories. I also took the drive up to the parking lot atop Mt. Mitchell, at 6,684 feet the highest point east of the Mississippi River. And I stopped for a few moments at Little Switzerland south of Linville, simply because the North Georgia Jaguar Club holds an annual meeting there which I have never been able to attend. Would likely have stayed overnight there had my visit been toward the end of the day, rather than the middle.

Near Mt. Pisgah is the highest point on the parkway at 6,053 feet and as the pics will show, I drove into clouds near there.

Then came the tragedy. As I have mentioned, there are more tunnels on this section of the parkway than before and I had gotten lazy about turning on my headlights when going through them, as most are short and straight and never get completely dark. Not this time... All of a sudden it got pitch-dark and I slammed on the brakes, which skidded me into the right side tunnel wall at maybe 25-30 mph. With no power steering, I had not been able to free a hand to reach down to flip on the headlights. The damage, which literally made me sick to my stomach, was not as bad as I had feared. The right front fender was wrinkled and the right rear fender slightly scraped; the right front hubcap was smashed flat and the right rear hubcap was gone. And the right side front bumper clamp was gone. I had a tie-wrap in my portfolio to secure the bumper weakly back in place.

There was no wheel or tire damage and the car drove basically as before, once I tie-wrapped the bumper back on its bracket. After exiting the tunnel, I stopped to give the car a detailed inspection and found no further damage. The worst parts of life are the problems I can only blame on myself and this was one of them.

The remaining miles to Cherokee were essentially uneventful. I stopped in town to fill up with gas and then found my way onto familiar US 23/441 which proceeds south through Franklin, NC, then Clayton, GA, then on to the north side of Atlanta where I reside. And it's mostly downhill the entire way.

North of Franklin, I stopped at the top of a hill because I was starting to see a little steam coming from the radiator cap. Didn't have much water with me by then, as I had been topping up occasionally, but there were several puddles near where I stopped that I sucked into my bottles. After letting the engine cool down a bit, I proceeded down the hill where I found a gem mining concession I had been unable to see from the hilltop. They graciously let me refill the radiator and bottles from their hose.

In Franklin, just after a roundabout, the tie-wrap holding the right end of the bumper on must have snapped, and the bumper clamp on the other side broke, as the front bumper fell off and I drove over it with a tremendous noise. A driver in a pickup truck behind me stopped and retrieved the bumper, which I placed in the open rumble seat with a T-shirt protecting the side of the trunk opening where it stuck out.

That was the last of the challenges on this nearly 1,200-mile journey. Realizing I had not eaten anything all day, I stopped for a small steak and lobster tail at a Longhorn Steakhouse in Demorest, GA. The remainder of the trip home was easy, with the car still happily cruising at 45-50 mph. US 23/441 joins Ga 365 which turns into I-985 and that eventually runs into I-85S. Traffic was not heavy so I continued on these non-backroads.

Only a few miles after I got on I-85S, I jumped off to head for the Southeastern Railway Museum in Duluth, GA, to pick up the timesheets for the small paid staff at the museum, as I needed to submit the weekly payroll. I stopped at the museum's entry gates, leaving the car running, got out and shut the coupe's door. After opening the gate so I could enter the property, I got back in the car and attempted to shut the door. It wouldn't latch! Evidently the probably 93-year old spring in the door latch had broken. I grabbed a roll of blue painter's tape from the ticket booth and taped the door closed after I got back in.

The remaining five miles to my house went quickly and I pulled into my driveway at exactly 8:05 pm, Monday, July 3.

My dear, departed maternal grandmother, a woman who didn't get much education but who was endowed with a tremendous amount of common sense, used to say, "Be careful what you ask for, as you may get it!”

I said I wanted an adventure and I believe I received one, perhaps at a slightly higher level than I had really desired.

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The views along the Blue Ridge Parkway are mind-blowing.

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From another scenic overlook.

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And another...

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One of the many stops to use the free wi-fi.

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Damage to the RF fender.

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And to the RR fender.

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Placed an order for parts a couple of days ago: cap and rotor to send to Mark Adler to replace those he gave me, two hubcaps, a pair of gas caps to replace the one I lost after driving off with it sitting atop the cowl next to the filler (with one to place in a door pocket as a spare), and two front bumper clamps.

The car will go next week to a body shop experienced in the thick metal found in early cars to have the fender damage repaired.

Do I regret making this trip? Not on your life!

[jb-ob]

Greg,

I think WWll bomber piolets referred to getting home in that condition as 'On a Wing & a Prayer'.

Thanks for sharing, jb

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It was just a fender bender. Glad I wasn't going very fast in the tunnel.

I didn't get machine-gunned a single time...