Aug 29
We’ve had so many great driving days this summer that I’m starting to fall behind. So here’s a link to my Facebook album from another Southwest Iowa drive I took last weekend. It started getting interesting at this historical site in Pisgah, Iowa… a barber shop?!? You’ll have to read the photo captions in the album to see where things went from there…
Aug 2
From our ongoing collection, "Places Where They Probably Don't See a Lot of 1974 Saab Sonetts." Here: Pacific Junction, Iowa.
I can barely believe what great summer weather we’ve been having in Nebraska — blue skies, highs only in the mid-70s. Saturday, after some irritating tweaking of the nose position, I had to take the Sonett out for a drive. I went south, down the winding roads of southwest Iowa’s Loess Hills, and had a great time. Click here for a few photos.
I still need to do something about my front-tire clearance issue, though — look how close the fender lip is to the front tire in the photo!
Once my sad little beater... now James Chandler's concours winner
Technically, this isn’t a SAAB-related post, but it made my day:
About 10 years ago, before I got back into SAABs and bought my current tatty old Sonett, I briefly owned a Fiat-Abarth 1000. This was a performance version of the pretty Fiat 850 Spider, with the engine punched out to a whopping 1 liter, a cool finned oil pan with “ABARTH” on it in red letters, and various other enhancements.
I had bought the thing from a local guy in the hope of cleaning it up, fixing what was wrong with it, and having some fun with it (exactly the same objectives with which I later bought the Sonett.)
But once I got into the little Abarth, I realized immediately that the work it needed was ‘way over my head. Not wanting to get trapped in a money pit, I took a deep breath and just walked away, giving the thing to a body-shop guy who had helped me go through it and inventory its myriad faults. He said he thought maybe he could part it out and get a bit of money for the cool Abarth pan and various other oddments.
I was a bit sorry to think of the poor little Fiat-Abarth being gutted and then crushed… but with no storage space, work space, or inclination to go into the used-Fiat-parts business, I just didn’t have the resources to do anything with it myself. Although some might say I got “taken” by the body man, I didn’t feel that way and still don’t. If I had kept the car around, I probably wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation to try to tinker with it; I was better off going cold turkey and just getting it out of my life entirely.
By the time I walked away, I had owned it less than two weeks and had only driven it once.
Fast-forward to earlier this week, when I got a phone message from a man I had never heard of, named Jim Chandler. Once I contacted him, I heard a heartwarming story.
It turned out that the body man had not gutted and crushed the car. Instead he had stashed it somewhere for years on end, until just a couple of years ago… when he listed it on eBay and Mr. Chandler bought it.
Chandler is an Italian-car buff (he also has a gorgeous Lancia Flavia Zagato) and wasn’t the least intimidated by the prospect of giving the Fiat-Abarth what he called a “light cosmetic restoration.” For Italian-car fans, “light restoration” includes such casual fettling as completely replacing the floors and the cruciform frames that keep an 850 Spyder from folding up in the middle.
With the car rehabbed, restored, and painted a beautiful lustrous deep red (a big improvement over the oxidized maroon color it had had when I owned it) he was able to drive it a bit. He also began showing it in club concours events — where, he said, it has cleaned up several trophies.
I got a kick out of seeing the photos he sent me of this beautiful little car — and of knowing that I had helped make its regeneration possible. If I had tried to tinker with it, with my limited resources and skills, I’m sure I would have bodged it up so badly that it never could have been returned to its present condition. Instead, I made it possible for the Fiat-Abarth to live again… simply by knowing when the right thing to do was walk away.
Makes me feel sort of glad that I bought a pre-bodged Sonett, so I don’t have to feel guilty about the way I’ve hacked it around…
Jul 18
Chip Lamb, the brain and sinew behind parts supplier West of Sweden SAAB, is an unusually good guy even by the rather lofty standards of the vintage SAAB community.
For a recent example, my recent disaster-fest began with trying to fix the Sonett’s backup lights and ended up with a huge hole in the floor, an exploded rear hatch, glass shards lacerating my elbow, and various other hair-raising horrors. Just when I thought I had wrestled all those into submission and that the Sonett was ready to start being a car again, I discovered that stepping on the clutch pedal did… nothing whatsoever. The proximate cause became evident when I examined the clutch fluid reservoir and discovered that it didn’t contain anything except atmosphere.
Well, I told myself, maybe I had left the bleed nipple loose when I changed the clutch fluid, and it all simply escaped. I refilled the reservoir, bled the clutch, made sure the nipple was tight, and found clutch action had been restored.
Next day, though, I was clutchless again — and the trail of hydraulic fluid eddying along the passenger-compartment floor and forming little pools under the shifter and seats told me that the clutch master cylinder seal had gone.
I also found a bit of fluid leaking out of the business end of the clutch slave cylinder — and since this eventually would find its way onto the clutch disc and do it no good, I figured that both ends needed to be redone.
I contacted the aforementioned Chip Lamb and asked him what parts were available. He had new slave cylinders, so no problem there. New or rebuilt replacement master cylinders, though, aren’t available, he said. He did have a rebuild kit with new seals for them — but warned me that most Sonett master cylinders by now are scored or pitted after 30-odd years of generally-neglected service, and should be re-sleeved, not just re-sealed, for best results.
(Re-sleeving involves boring out the cylinder to remove all the pits and scores that would wear out the new seals prematurely, and inserting a sleeve of new metal to provide a smooth sealing surface.)
I was fed up with dumping money into the car, though, and decided to ignore this advice. I ordered just the rebuild kit. While waiting for it to arrive, though, I started having second thoughts. I really didn’t want to have to do this job again, after all the other trauma I’d been through. When I got the rebuild kit and realized that it wasn’t the right part, I contacted Chip again and told him I had decided to do it the right way: when I sent back the part, I’d also send along my cylinder; he could take a look at it and re-sleeve it if he thought it necessary. The price of the re-sleeving service seemed reasonable enough, and I had no qualms about doing it if it would make the seals last longer.
With most mechanical service providers, that would have been the end of the story. After all, if the customer tells you to do X and he’ll pay for it, you do X and let him give you his money, right? Well, that’s not how they do business at West of Sweden, and in a couple of days I had another email from Chip, saying the bore of my master cylinder was one of the nicest he had ever seen from a Sonett, and it would be kind of a shame to re-sleeve it when it didn’t really need it. He proposed that he could save me some money by simply installing the new seals and cleaning it up.
Saving money sounded like a good idea at this stage, so I took him up on the proposition. A few days later I received a refurbished clutch master cylinder so pretty I almost hated to put it into my ratty old car. I did put it in, though, and now once again I have a clutch that clutches and de-clutches.
Thanks, Chip!
Update: Chip also reminds me that when he got the master cylinder apart, he discovered that someone, in the deeps of historical time, had rebuilt it with the seal mounted backwards. The upshot of this, he explains, is that once the very edge of the seal begins to wear, the cylinder will leak. I had been driving it that way for nine years… I guess now I know why the floor was always a little, uh, moist.
Chip says:
Diagram in the shop book is no help. Just remember in all cases that the cup of the seal goes towards the fluid, the flat surface goes towards the piston head.
I should have thought of that myself: when you push the piston inward, pressure of the fluid into the cup expands the seal, helping it seal more tightly. When the piston moves outward, the pressure eases, letting the seal contract a bit so it can slide more freely and with less wear. So it makes perfect sense when you think about it. Apparently, sometime in the past, somebody didn’t think about it…
Here are some photos of the stars of our show…
My new clutch slave cylinder (top) and rehabbed clutch master cylinder from West of Sweden SAAB
The slave cylinder installed easily... although I discovered the mounting hole in its end was about two threads (roughly0.08") less deep than the original. That meant the bolt wouldn't go in as far, leaving the cylinder loose. A couple of washers under the bolt head (not shown) solved that.
The master cylinder also went in easily enough. What, you say yours isn't this easy to reach? That's because you aren't using the C.I.A. (Corrosion-Induced Access) port. This port evolves spontaneously over the years, as spilled brake fluid runs down the fender well and removes the paint, causing rust that eventually eats right through the metal and creates a handy hole through which the cylinders are easy to reach. When I repaired this hole several years ago, I covered it with a screwed-on plate rather than welding in a patch, preserving the easy access.
Congratulations, you’ve found the new home of my collection of pictures and text documenting my various incompetent attempts to fix, improve, and resurrect my 1974 Saab Sonett III.
At this stage most of the content is still exactly the same as that on the old SaabStories website, but the spiffy new blog-style format may make it easier to update if I can ever bring myself to confront the car’s many foibles.
Use the Archive links down the right side of the page to visit your favorite picture-and-text pages from the old site. Remember, on most pages you can click any picture to see it at a larger size.