Daily Driver

Recently we've been having some trouble with our cars, and I've been thinking this might be an opportunity. The common wisdom seems to be that a 78-year-old car is not for daily use, but why not? In many ways the Model A is a more reliable vehicle than our '93 Dodge Shadow. And recently even our 2005 Freestyle has not been starting with any kind of consistency.

So here's my thought: I work from home and only need a car to get to the store and the bank and various work-related appointments; why not make the Model A my main car? When the weather is too rough, I can sit it out at home. When we need to take the kids somewhere, the Freestyle is our go-to vehicle. When I need to drive more than 20 miles in a day, my wife and I can ride share.

I like this idea, and maybe I can expand it into a "1930s House" kind of blog. Is it a coincidence that my house was built the year before the Model A rolled off the line? Maybe it's just another circumstance that will give me a chance to explore life in the 1930s. We already live a lot like it's the 1930s anyway.

If anyone out there is reading this, let me know what you think. An interesting experiment? Worth following? Your feedback is welcome.

Last Drive for the Season

Over the weekend I took the panel truck out for a drive. The weather was a perfect sixty-eight degrees and sunny, and I took my time driving a long meandering loop through town. The engine chortled contentedly without miss or hesitation, and I felt like I kept the idle lower than I have ever been able to in the past.

The idea of getting the truck ready for winter was hard to embrace on such a beautiful day, but I began the process. First I swept out the "stall," then laid down plastic and sealed the back door against wind and weather. Next I need to run some winterizer through the engine and pull the battery inside for the season.

One thing I got ready was a work area so tools are right out front and center. All we need now is a decent space heater and we're all set to put in a few weekends on this thing when winter finally arrives.

Seasons

Fall is full upon us here in Michigan; summer is setting. For the me and the Model A, this means a short ride here and there when the weather dries out enough, and when I can find time away from last-minute outdoor projects and the drudgery of raking leaves. Soon I will clean out the back end of the garage, lay down a couple sheets of Visqueen, winterize the engine, and bring the battery in for winter.

It's not over for us, however. There are a lot of things I want to tinker on this winter: replace interior screws, figure out why the door handles are held on by wood screws, fidget with the instrument panel and see if I can't get the thing to sit square. There's also some funky wiring that needs to be fixed. Another project is installing seat belts and seeing if I can't find a way to secure two car seats in the back. (The risk of an accident is small, but I don't want a fender-bender sending my toddler through a windshield.)

All told, I am looking forward to having some time to prep the panel truck for spring, when we'll be back on the road again!

Classic Car Show—Greenfield Village

This year I participated in my first car show — Greenfield Village's Classic Car Festival. What a weekend! The weather was perfect, and the crowds were crazy big. I met other drivers in Madison Heights, and we drove in a caravan to the show on Saturday morning. It's about 24 miles that way, avoiding the highways, and by driving down earlier in the week, it saved me from making the Saturday morning drive a 48-mile affair.

All in all, we had a great time. My wife wasn't feeling well enough to make it, so I passed on the gas-light event in the evening. I've seen this in the past, and it's great. Once the sun goes down on Saturday, the village lights their gas street lamps. Drivers then start up their cars and drive around the dusky, lit streets. There are fireworks a bit later, and then everyone goes home.

Instead, I brought my daughter down on Sunday. Though she was chomping at the bit to ride the carousel, and had a great time at it, all she's talked about since is our ride in my uncle's 1909 Model T.

I need to work a little on my presentation. The panel truck is a great vehicle, but in the commercial category, the other trucks are much more visually interesting. I am hoping to add a photo presentation that my grandfather put together, and I have some ideas for explaining the Model A Panel Truck and its place in the Ford commercial line-up for 1931 (especially how it differs from the De Luxe Panel Truck).

The return to Madison Heights was exhausting. Aside from the sun beating down through the driver's window, the cab is a bit tight, and all that shifting begins to wear you down. I think I had to stop at nearly 25-30 lights, and at least half of those I talked with the folks in the cars around me, answering questions about the truck (Where'd you get the car? How old is it? How fast can you go?). It certainly is a nice ice breaker.

I am already looking forward to next summer, when maybe I will have a chance to tool around some local shows as well.

Old Car Festival

The Old Car Festival is coming up this weekend at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan. For as long as I've had the panel truck, the past two or three years, I've been signed up to show it at Greenfield Village. Every year something happens to thwart my intentions. Most often it's that I have books due in September, and I am spending every waking hour writing.

This year is different... hopefully. This summer we worked on the steering, and it seems to be fine. The gas gauge no longer leaks (at least I think it's fixed—still need to fill er up to make sure). And I changed out the battery for a new one. We started it up last weekend and took it out for a little pampering at the car wash.

On Labor Day morning, however, my dad and I were taking it to my uncle's garage so that we could caravan over to Dearborn on Saturday morning with other drivers. About fifteen miles into the trip, the car stalls on the expressway. We ended up getting it towed to the aforementioned garage, and I've been told it's whatever might be wrong is an easy fix and the truck will be ready for Saturday.

Today my dad and uncle swapped out the distributor and put in a new condenser. It kills me to be here at work and not helping, but hopefully I can glean some info about the process and add it to my inventory of "stuff I know about Model A's."

Battery Saga

Every year since I brought the panel truck home, I've had problems with the battery. Either the trickler wouldn't keep the battery charged, or the thing wouldn't charge at all. Last year I gave in and bought a new battery. This year, the new battery wouldn't hold a charge.

When I took it out for testing, the box had split and it was leaking acid (goodbye new shirt). New battery from AutoZone works fine, but from now on I am bringing the battery in for the winter. At $80 a pop, it's no small thing to buy a new battery every couple years.

One Truck's Pedigree, Part 1

The story of my 1931 Model A panel truck begins in Dearborn, Michigan, at Henry Ford's expansive River Rouge complex.

Construction on River Rouge began in 1917 and was completed in 1928. Building B (the Dearborn Assembly Plant) was used to build boats during WWI. The first automobile built here was the Model A in 1927. (The Model T was made in Ford's Highland Park plant.)

It was purchased by a plumber from Detroit at the Robert W. Ford's dealership at 13471 Michigan Avenue. The plumber was my grandmother's uncle, Tom. From the original catalog that came with the truck I gather he must have debated between the "Model A Panel Delivery" and the "Model A De Luxe Delivery." These two trucks are found, respectively, on pages 14 and 15 along with notes in scratched in pencil. The De Luxe, it seems, was going to cost him around $655. The panel truck was $590, but from the notes, it looks like he got it down to $525. He also annotated the measurements, possibly considering plumbing tools and odd supplies as he jotted down numbers.

Whether or not the final decision came down to dollars and sense, or a careful weighing of the practicalities of each vehicle, can't be known for certain, but in the end the panel delivery won the day.

Who Is Victor W. Pagé?

My favorite Model A repair book is the impressively titled Ford Model A Service Manual and Handbook of Repair and Maintenance by Victor W. Pagé. The copy I have is a 1961 reprint published by Floyd Clymer Publications. The original was published by the Norman W. Henley Publishing Co. in 1929, subsequently revised.

Apparently Mr. Pagé was quite prolific and was one of the first people to make a living writing and publishing technical material. He published thirty-three books over his career. For the book I have, pictured here, he took content provided by the Ford Motor Company and shaped with his own organizational genius. Having read a half dozen of the Model A manuals out there, no one has much improved on Pagé's original work.

Fixing a Leaky Dash

Replacing the gaskets on the gas gauge turns out to be a very simple process. Once you remove the instrument panel (four screws), it's simply a matter of removing the gauge and replacing the worn gaskets with new ones (a set of gaskets can be found at Snyder's Antique Auto Parts). They have cork gaskets, but I chose the neoprene. They are supposed to last longer, and even though I like working on the truck, how many times do I really want to replace gas gauge gaskets?

Along with gaskets, I needed a set of tools specially made for the task of removing gauge itself. The shorter tool is for the inner nut while the longer tool is for the outer nut.

The removal went easy enough. Once the outer nut is removed, the whole thing comes out as one unit—cork, arm, and all.

Putting it all back together was straight forward, though it was a bit tricky getting the new gaskets in place. The old gaskets were much thinner. I am not sure if that's because the originals were thinner or these were compressed over time. In either case, there are two smaller gaskets that sandwich the round glass plate. Once they were in place, it was difficult getting the black plate to sit level while I tightened it down with the inner nut. In the end, I bent the plate a little and it all worked out fine.

Interestingly we've been working so much on the steering, now that the gas gauge is in place I haven't had a chance to fill up the tank to see if it worked. All the parts are in place to start 'er up this week, so hopefully I will be able to post good news on my first successful project a bit later.

Looking ahead blog-wise, I am hoping to share a little of the panel truck's pedigree, some Model A history, and anecdotes from our quest to straighten out our loose steering.

A Bit of a Gas

Last summer my wife's parents and grandparents were in town. It was finally my chance to show her dad and grandpa that I am not a complete slouch in the garage. One afternoon while everyone was napping, I started up the Model A and drove her up the street to the gas station to fill the tank. (No use showing off the car if there's not enough gas to take a turn around the block, right?)

The tank of the Model A is right up front and center. In fact, it is right there behind the dashboard. The gas gauge itself fits in a hole in the dashboard that opens directly to the tank. I learned on the drive home from the gas station that when the gaskets on the gas gauge wear out, the gas simply flows freely down the dash, and in my case, all over my legs. As I drove the block from the gas station to my house, getting a little heady with the fumes, I started thinking about how all that separates the driver from the engine is a half inch of plywood.

Anyhow, I got the car back in the garage and started looking for a piece of hose to siphon the gas. I've never siphoned gas before, but I have a gist of the concept (suck until you get a mouthful and then plunge the hose into a bucket, placed somewhat lower than the tank). It was about then that my father-in-law woke up and saw me hopping around the backyard. I had just decided to shorten my garden hose by six feet, and I was looking for a bucket when I turn to see everyone coming outside to see what I am up to. Not the impression I was hoping to make.

It worked out in the end. My wife's dad had plenty of experience with a siphoning hose, and we had the excess gas drained off quick enough. We were even able to get the truck out on the road for a little bit (once the gas is below the gauge, there was no more leaking).

I fixed the gauge earlier this summer. I will share more about that later.

The Model A panel truck has been in my family for years. Here it is before Grandpa had it all restored nice in the 80s. My sister and I are sitting on the fenders.