I replaced the Rubicon stickers that adorned the hood of my Jeep. The originals were in sad shape when I bought it. My uncle, a man who makes vinyl signs and even stickers police cars took a rubbing of the original stickers but never made me new ones.
So sad
At some point, I got a steal on some new ones that are a different design than what I had. They emulate what the new “JL” wrangler has. I have the previous model, designated “JK”.
As a man who used to professionally detail vehicles, sticker removal is part of the job. I was in for a surprise though. I can only assume that the adhesives used have changed in the last 20 years. I first used a sticker squeegee, but it didn’t work at all. So I moved to a razor blade in combination with Goo Gone. I was able to get the sticker removed, but that adhesive did not want to leave the paint. Nevertheless, I persisted.
Far from perfect, but It’ll do
I was so exhausted from the removal that I rushed the installation. While not visible in this image, there are many bubbles in the stickers.
It definitely makes a difference however. I now have 100k maintenance to do, and I need to change the hinges on the doors as they are corroding.
This Jeep has been good to me, with not many issues. I’m appreciative of that.
In the continuing saga of the speedometer reading incorrectly on the IROC I received some answers today.
I took the differential cover off. Thankfully the ring gear had the teeth numbers etched into it, 13:42. What does that mean? That means there are 13 teeth on the pinion gear, 42 on the ring gear. If you divide the teeth on the ring gear by the teeth on the pinion gear, you get the ratio. In this case, it equals 3.23 which is a widely used ratio.
From that, I now know what gears my transmission needs in order to display the speed traveled correctly thanks to this post on the 3rd gen forums. I went ahead and ordered a 38 tooth (blue) driven, and 15 tooth (gray) drive gears from eBay. These gears are commonly known by their colors.
I was a little apprehensive about taking the cover off, as it’s something I’ve never had to do before on a vehicle. I had a plan however. I purchased a different cover that has a fill and drain plug, the OEM one does not. The Dana 44 axles on my Jeep have them.
This differential cover is sold all over under different name brands, but all of them are made by the same place, LPW Racing Products. I purchased it directly from them through, you guessed it an auction on eBay. Besides having fill & drain plugs, it also has a girdle to help strengthen the already “weak” 10 bolt rear end this car has.
I also received the gauge clusters I had purchased from eBay, and was able to successfully remove the needle on the speedometer from one of them. I then used that needle and shaft from the donor cluster to rebuild my original.
I still need to purchase bulbs for my cluster. Not knowing how long they have been in there, but knowing how hard it is to remove the cluster – I want to replace them all. 1 of them is missing/broken.
In other news, I have removed the headliner with the help of my daughter. It definitely went better with the help of someone than had I attempted to do it alone.
Those dark areas show the original color
Last night, I took all of the old material and foam off. The backer is quite fragile, some small spots came off with the material or while I was taking the foam off with a combination of a vacuum and sponge.
That light area in the upper left quadrant came off
By the end of the weekend, I hope to have the car back together. When I receive the gears for the transmission I plan on having a shop change them. I might then have to remove the cluster again if it requires more calibration.
I’m talking about the IROC. Part of diagnosing why the speedometer was reading incorrectly is knowing exactly what the gear ratio of the rear end is, and how many teeth the 2 gears in the transmission that drive the speedometer have.
Today, I did the easiest method for finding that with results that were not expected. Per the VIN and the RPO codes on the car, it should have a 2.77 gear ratio in the rear end, with a limited slip posi-traction differential.
For those of you that I just lost, that ratio means the driveshaft should turn 2.77 times for every time the rear wheels turn once. Limited slip is a form of posi-traction, which enables both wheels to spin at the same time. For this car, the other option was an open differential, where only 1 wheel actually provides the power.
I jacked the car off the ground, placed my camera under the driveshaft and rotated 1 wheel towards the front of the car.
As Described
The results? The driveshaft spun about 3.5 times. What? It should have only spun 2.77 times!
I knew “something” had happened while my dad and stepmother went on a trip, but didn’t know if it was the transmission or the rear end. I posted on Facebook about it where my stepmom and her brother, my uncle argued about the subject. I tend to trust him more about mechanical things like this, he did paint it after all.
Names removed for privacy sake
My next steps are to remove the differential cover to inspect and verify the gear ratio. I also need to check the transmission gears. There is one located on the tail shaft, and one that is driven from that gear to turn the speedometer cable.
Unfortunately, I believe this is a Borg Warner 9 bolt rear end, made in Australia. I have done a lot of searching tonight and have only found used sets of the 2.77 ring and pinion gears for sale. Replacing these two parts is not a cheap venture, so it will be put on the back burner for now. I’m merely posting this for documentation and as my dad would infamously say to make a “historical document.”
My headliner material should be arriving on Friday, and I have been in the progress of removing the trim and parts to take the existing original headliner out. I hope to be successful in doing this, as it’s something I have no experience in. I will videotape and obviously post here about it.
Here’s a setback I wasn’t expecting. I broke the needle on the speedometer of the Camaro. I’ve noticed that it’s been reading up to 10mph too high, sometimes as low as 3. I was trying to adjust it by using some advice that I sourced from the internet, and boom.
What good is an instrument if you can’t read its output?
The gauge cluster on this car is a relic of the past, sharing the same kind and style of components that vehicles 30+ years older than it have. Vehicles of today use digital instrumentation (even if you have physical gauges). Odometers are readouts on a screen, this one is a dial that shows up to 5 digits of miles.
I spent all last night researching and trying to find answers to the problem I’m facing. You would think there are replacement parts and people who are well versed in instrumentation woes who have said something on the internet right? Wrong. I’m coming up pretty empty on this one.
Camaros of this generation came with three, count em, 3 different speedometers. They came in 85, 115 and 145 MPH varieties. With this one having the 145 one, which is hard to find. From what I have found so far, each one had a different “spring” in it, which I can only assume helped it be accurate. Thankfully I have all of my parts.
Primarily disassembled
Further complicating things, is the fact that many moons ago, there was an issue with the transmission. This makes me question whether the gears that drive the speedometer cable are the correct ones. My stepmother told me that my father chose to have a re-manufactured one installed at a dealership. My father never told me.
I just procured a 85 MPH speedometer on eBay, and am bidding on an entire instrument cluster. My next steps are to determine all of the gear identities so I’m not assuming things that may not be true. I need to find out what speedometer gears are in the transmission, and the actual gear ratio on the rear end, as well as the tire diameter.
With that information, I can make informed decisions on where to go from here. I will also continue to prepare to replace the headliner and recover the sail panels, possibly doing a transmission service as well. I figure it’ll be better to accomplish these tasks since the car is down right now.
I sure didn’t expect to have such a detour, but I might as well make the best of it that I can.
This weekend, I went back to battle on the rear end upgrades/maintenance on the IROC. After my experience last weekend, I had knowledge and skills I wasn’t equipped with the first time. I rented a caliper tool from the auto parts store I frequent, and it made the experience far better.
I started by swapping the drilled & slotted rotor as a mechanic had told me. After doing some research on the subject, I believed and agree with him. After posting an image on social media, another mechanic friend (whom I trust more) told me it was wrong, so I begrudgingly swapped it back. This also gave me an opportunity to use that tool I had rented, to ensure the slot in the caliper fit properly with the nub on the brake pad.
GM Delco-Morraine Brake Caliper
I then went to the passengers side, which is the oddest thing I have ever seen. The brake caliper is on the opposite side on the rotor. The manager at the parts store (who I’ve known since I was a kid) said it’s also common in some Ford pickup trucks.
So Odd
There was something in the way however. Due to this mirrored setup, the lower control arm was in the way. The bolts that hold the caliper on did not have enough space to be removed. So I unbolted it and got to work.
On my previous post I mentioned how the thought of replacing these lower control arms with new tubular ones really vexed my mind. My mind was reassured however, as the bushing on this one that connects to the axle was in really good shape. So I won’t be replacing them.
The rotor on this side was really rusted on. I had to beat it with a hammer for a good 10 minutes before I was able to get it fully off. That was the largest issue I faced.
I then replaced the shock on this side, which like the other side was the OE one and dead as a door nail. My daughter helped me with the first one, I was happy that I was able to do this one all by my lonesome.
Then it was just a matter of reconnecting that lower control arm, which required I do some fancy leg work with a jack to jack the axle up incrementally so the bolt hole would line up.
The drivers side has solid metal brake line, the passengers side has a short rubber brake hose. I’m going to change a spring in the proportioning valve that is supposed to increase the line pressure on the rear brakes. These cars are notorious for having what are essentially non existent rear brakes. This stops here for me. It will require my brakes be bled, which needs to be done. I’m just weighing as to whether I should change the hose and do the bleed myself or have a shop do it at this point. I’m always weighing my options, I don’t want to damage this car, or destroy something.
I just have to take care of the brake hose, bleeding/flushing of brake fluid & the sway bar bushings & end links and the rear will be done. For now anyway.
We had a nice day last Saturday, and I’ve got a pile of parts just waiting to be thrown on the ol’ IROC. My plan was to replace the rear brakes and shocks, but plans never turn out the way you want them to.
I’ve known this car since I was 7, but I’ve never dug into it’s systems and deep into what makes it work until now. My father wasn’t one to do much more than an oil change on his own. With the help of other men in my life, I learned how to do everything.
Friday evening, with my daughter’s assistance, we jacked the car up and put the rear on jack stands. I’ve been trying to involve her and the other children in my life on the processes required to restore this car. Automotive knowledge at a young age is a wonderful thing for children. I know I loved it.
My Office for the Day
After taking the wheel off, I discovered something. Something I had never seen in my lifetime of working on vehicles of all shapes and sizes. After doing some investigating, I have come to a theory. 1988 was a odd year for braking systems on this car.
All original
My findings, coming from internet based research on forums and YouTube have led me to believe the following. Pre-1989 if a Camaro had disc brakes in the rear the rear end was essentially the same as one that had drum brakes on it. The only difference is the backing plate and the addition of a caliper and rotor. The brake line is hard all the way to the connection on the caliper itself.
This car is a 1988, but built in October of 1987. 1988 was a good year, but it was also a year of lasts and firsts. It was the last year for the cold start injector, commonly called the 9th injector. But it was the first year for the L98, 5.7L TPI (which this car has). It was also the first year of the 1LE option, which is the rarest of the rare 3rd Generation Camaro. Only 4 were made that year. Starting in 1989, if your car had rear disc brakes, it had the 1LE aluminum PBR calipers, which were made in Australia.
My daughter helped me install the new driver’s side shock. The old one, in the picture above was the original, and did not function at all. Unfortunately, I only received 1 hardware kit from the 2 shocks I ordered. I reached out to the company who makes them. They have sent me another kit.
So I went back to work on these brakes. The rotors are warped, and I think the pads are glazed, causing braking to be difficult at best. I went to compress the rotor only to discover this is one that requires to be twisted like a screw to go back into place. I went to the parts store not once but twice, as the first tool I bought to handle this task was too small. The second one would fit – but alas the pattern would only hold 1 of the pivot points. I had to use a pair of channel lock pliers to manually twist the piston back into place. It was difficult at best.
The Rotor is on Backwards
I then put it all together. I bought drilled and slotted rotors to help compensate for the small brakes on this car. Many upgrade the brakes with systems from newer cars or from 3rd party manufacturers.
I later discovered that technically this rotor is on backwards. The angle of the slot should be in the other direction. The cooling vanes within the rotor are non directional however, which mitigates that issue. I am still pondering on changing it. If you notice there is a “L” sticker on the rotor, and this is the “L” side of the car.
By this time, it was 6pm. I was beyond tired and happy to have accomplished what I did. Then my mind got to thinking. There are lots of rubber parts there that are obviously worn out and need replaced. Do I go ahead and take care of this while I’m at it?
I purchased a set of sway bar end links and bushings as a package, the other parts are for the lower control arms and the panhard (sometimes called a track) bar. Unfortunately it seems like replacing the bushings on those OEM parts is more trouble and more expense than buying new tubular parts. So I am currently in a battle with my mind on what to do.
As a teenager, all I wanted to do is put these kind of parts on this car. Now, nearing 40 I don’t exactly want to. I want this car to have it’s original character, flaws and all. Decisions, decisions.
I noticed something yesterday, something that I used to think was very strange. My father used to be very aware of the price of fuel. So much so that a 5 cent change would alert his “spidey sense” as it was.
When I was a teenager, we drove 50 miles 1 way to Paoli for fuel. It was the brief period of time in my life when the price of fuel dropped below $1 a gallon.
Shortly before he passed away, he actually called me once and used the phrase “end times” about the price of fuel. A local gas station had made a mistake, listing the price of fuel at $9.99 a gallon.
These words highlight one of the quirks about my father, always paying the utmost attention to the price of things small and large.
Throughout my father’s life, he had a lifelong connection to Bedford, and would often fill his gas tank there, as the price was always cheaper and he was always traveling there. Much like what I do now, with my youngest daughter living there. With the costs of living only going up and up, I have been trying to save costs where possible.
I have found myself purchasing fuel in Bedford, purposefully for the past few years. On average it is 20 cents a gallon cheaper, and sometimes more. I have had occasions where on a trip there and back, I have seen the price in Bloomington be close to what the price is there, only to return to find the price has spiked by 30 or more cents a gallon.
Yesterday Amelia had her first ever Robotics competition there. I filled up my gas tank for $2.999 a gallon, where it is $2.559 here.
Newspapers and TV stations have ran stories on the oddity of the price of fuel in Indiana, and locally we are told that it is “hard” to deliver fuel to Bloomington, causing the increase in costs. I have seen the same spread in prices locally, which takes that equation out of the mix.
Even though my old man seemed crazy about the price of fuel, and had oddities about his purchasing habits. He was right all along. I miss ya pops.
A few weeks ago, the paltry horn quit working on my Jeep. Many complain about the horn these have installed from the factory. From the moment I bought it, just a little over a year ago it barely functioned.
Over time, I got the crud out of it and it started working for a good period of time, but alas – it died again.
After much research, I decided on replacing the single horn with a set of dual horns, made by PIAA. I enjoyed the tone. They market them as Sport Horns.
The installation process was pretty straight forward, and I think that’s the reason why many with Jeeps go this route, the horns came with a set of cables to connect the second horn. All I needed was an “add a wire” connector. I tried to bolt the horns to the mounting bracket, but my big fingers got in the way and I lost the bolt that I had just driven to the hardware store to purchase. In the end, I used a trusty zip tie.
I’m about to take a cross country trip to free my mind from the ongoing and piling worries that have filled my life as of late. I needed a horn. I’m happy to have it now.
For some reason, I’m feeling all nostalgic today. Reading a post on reddit reminded me of the second car I totaled. Today I will write about my first. You never forget your first.
I have to setup the scene of how we ended up with my first car however, as that is a story in itself.
It’s summer 1995. We (my mother, stepfather and I) had just moved to Main Street in Ellettsville, IN from our home on the south side of Bloomington. Rent was $150 less a month there, the area had less questionable activities happening around us. My stepfather wanted to take a vacation to the Smoky Mountains, so we did. It was a good vacation. It was the only “family” vacation I really remember.
My mom and I.My now ex-stepfather and I. I’ve only randomly ran into him twice since he split with my mom.Me on my new bike at our campsite. I still have that bike, and it’s still in like new shape.
It was a good vacation, and we all had a good time. There are memories from that trip that I’ll hold with me the rest of my life. What happened when we arrived home however, was frightening but gave me another memory. One that I’m writing about right now.
Where we had moved to was right behind Jack’s Defeat Creek, a defining feature of the town. While we were gone there was a massive storm. The creek swelled to levels I didn’t see until I was in my mid 20’s. We lived in a duplex, our neighbors car had been flooded to the roof line. The water didn’t recede for 2 days. He had changed the fluids and done what he could to dry it out, but the insurance company totaled it out. He offered it to us, since I was getting close to the age to legally drive. The price? $383. My stepfather bought it without hesitation.
The car was to serve as a backup vehicle for him and my mother until I got my drivers license, then it would be my car. But I had to work for that car, it wasn’t handed to me. It was my job to turn this flooded out car into a running, fully operational vehicle that anyone would be proud of, and I was totally up to the task. So I got to work.
The electronics were ruined in it due to the water. All of the interior soft components were also water logged. The first step was to remove the entire interior. On good days, I would take all of the items outside to bake in the sun. This car had an electronic dash, something many newer vehicles have but at the time this car was built it was fancy and special. I was able to get it dried out and work again, but the radio was a goner. This radio was interesting however. Due to the design of the dash, it was in two pieces. There was a control section and a tuner section. After scouring the local junkyards, I was able to find one and it worked!
Next up was the mechanical. The 2.5L “Iron Duke” engine in it was very sloppy. There was oil and coolant leaks all over. Once I got those under control, I replaced almost every electronic component under the hood. I then changed the brakes, wheel bearings and shocks.
By this time, all of the soft interior components in the car had dried out. I cleaned them profusely and reinstalled them. The car was for all purposes, done. I still didn’t have a license however, bummer.
Summer turned into fall, and fall turned into winter, then winter turned into spring. My home life had changed significantly. The parents of the household were having arguments and serious conversations revolving me and my father. My stepfather at one point said “Maybe we should stop letting Lee see his dad.” That was all I needed to hear. I thought for the first time in my life, my mother had built something not based on alcohol and drugs but on a family. I was only living with my mother because my stepmother “said I couldn’t live there anymore” according to my father.
I would be leaving, the only question was how, when and where. By this time I spent a lot of time on the internet. I spoke to a lot of people, primarily in the Oklahoma City, OK area. I had been talking to a couple of girls around my age that lived in Valparaiso, IN and Round Rock, TX however.
I eventually made a plan. I was to go see and possibly live with this girl in Round Rock, TX. I had never even been to Texas before. Bye bye Indiana, you’ve left me nothing but trauma and abuse. One night, I packed a large duffel bag with clothes and things I would need. I waited until 4 or 5 in the morning, and army crawled into my mom & stepfathers bedroom and took all of her money and the keys to the car. She had just gotten paid, so it was around $400. I pushed the car out of the driveway (it’s a small car) and down the street a ways before I started it. And I was gone.
My first stop was at the Pilot truck stop in Terre Haute, IN. It was my “last chance Texaco” opportunity to turn around and be able to make it seem like nothing happened. I filled up the gas tank, and headed down I-70.
I’ve traveled to Oklahoma since I was a baby. I know the route to many places by heart. GPS wasn’t available to citizens yet, but I did have a map in the car. Due to the lack of sleep, and adrenaline pumping through my veins, memories of much of the trip were not saved in the hard drive in my head. Not until I made it to Topeka, KS. I had made a mistake, that I do remember, and I decided to just keep going.
By this time, I had been driving for a long time and needed a break, some rest. I had talked with someone in Topeka over the internet, and she gave me her number. I stopped at a mall and called her, she gave me her address and I was on my way. I was a teenager at the time, so nefarious things were obviously on my mind – but what I really needed was rest. I arrived, and didn’t know how to act or react. Their home was filled with clutter and trash, literally. There were trash bags everywhere! I gave an excuse that I had to put some transmission fluid in my car and that I’d be back, never to return.
That’s when I got my map out, and I started looking. I want to go somewhere to rest. I can’t rent a hotel room, and I can’t get comfortable enough in the car really. What do I do? Maybe I can drive to my aunt Beth’s house? She my youngest aunt, and has always been a little on the wild side. Maybe she’ll give me a place to stay for the night while I’m on my way? So I found US 75. Wow, pure heaven that road is. I need to take it again sometime. It’s like route 66. It lead me to Tulsa, which led me to my aunts apartment, in the tiny town of Westville, OK.
When I got to Westville, I stopped at a gas station and paged my best friend, with the phone number to the pay phone I was at. He never called back, so I proceeded to my aunts place.
I got there, but she wasn’t home. I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t really know where my other two aunts lived at the time. My grandfather was in the area, but I didn’t know where he lived either. So I left a note on her door and sat in the parking lot, resting. After a while, she got home. I watched her read the note I left and go inside.
After a few minutes, I decided to knock on the door. Why was I so nervous? This is my aunt, a person who loves me. But I was rattled to my core. Did I make a wrong decision? She was on the phone with my dad. Gah, she ratted me out! My plan is ruined. He wanted to get me on a Greyhound and get me back to Indiana, and worry about the car later.
So she, I and her infant son Alex spent the evening catching up and I finally got some rest that I needed so badly. That was until the police department came knocking at her door in the middle of the night. She answered the door, and they asked for me. She woke me and I went to the door. In my mind, I figured the jig was up. They were going to arrest me. What they did still makes me wonder. They just asked for the keys and left when I gave them to them. It was years later when I found out what happened afterwards.
The rest of my time in Oklahoma during that occasion is something I would do again in a heartbeat however. I won’t go into detail about it in this post though.
My mom and stepfather apparently drove out and got the car while I was there, and left me. My mom then drove out again and got me. How she knew where my grandfather was living surprised me however. This was the straw that broke the camels back with the marriage of my mom and second stepfather. Shortly after my return, he moved out.
I finally get my drivers license, and I’m finally able to legally drive! Yes, we still have this car I stole and drove cross country without a license – and it’s MINE. I’m so excited.
Three days after receiving my drivers license. My best good friend Craig and I decide to go fishing at what’s called the Snake Pit, it’s the day after Thanksgiving. Being freshly licensed teenage males, we are driving aggressively and generally doing things we shouldn’t. That’s when I made a mistake, one I’ll never forget.
The road to the Snake Pit is gravel. It leads to a cove of the largest lake in Indiana, Lake Monroe. The road forks in one spot, with the left fork going in an upward direction. The right fork goes downwards towards the lake. Memories become hazy, but I swear the throttle became stuck. I was losing control and was panicking. I did my best to steer towards the left fork in the road, but the car went in the middle and flipped. In an unlikely turn of events I was actually wearing my seat belt that day, something I didn’t do back then.
I was hanging inside the car. My seat belt wouldn’t unbuckle. I had to get my pocket knife out and cut the seat belt to get out. It broke while doing so, swinging around and cutting my hand. I still carry a pocketknife to this day, just in case something like this happens again.
If you notice, I haven’t said much to describe the car up until now. This car was and is still a very rare car. Not an expensive or exotic one, just rare. It was the cousin of the Pontiac Grand Am. A 1987 Buick Somerset GS, Grey with a Grey vinyl top. Here are the only images I have of it. Taken from the lot it was towed to.
The shadow is highly representative of how my soul felt at the time.
Not all memories fade. Price does not equate happiness. The smallest things can fill the largest part of your heart. My aunts and I still joke about this, and they know I’ll forever trust them with my heart.
This is a bit out of order, forgive as there is just so much to catch up on.
The divorce didn’t leave me with much. I got lucky on several things except for my method of transportation. I was left with the car my now ex-wife had when I met her, a 2001 Kia Rio. I referred to it as the “Clown Car.” As there was literally no leg room in it in the back seats when I sat up front.
So I did what I had to do. I didn’t make enough money to afford anything. I was trying to save my house at the time. I took ownership of it, did some maintenance on it, tinted the windows as it was the hottest vehicle I’ve ever seen in my life.
That was until I took my daughters on a shopping spree for that Christmas following the divorce.
We were on our way back from Indianapolis, when suddenly smoke started filling the car. We suddenly had no heat. I knew any repairs to this car were going to be costly. The car was only worth about $1500 as it was.
Throughout the divorce process, I had been interviewing for the job I currently have. When this car broke down, I made enough to afford that car payment and extra cost for full coverage insurance. So I started thinking, just what do I want?
That’s when I came to the sad realization that manual transmissions aren’t something you can get easily in a lot of vehicles these days. It broke my heart. I wanted a manual transmission, as I’ve had several issues with automatics.
So it came down to the final 3. It would be either a Jeep Unlimited (4 doors), a Chevrolet Colorado (4 door) or a Chrysler 200.
I ended up just buying the first Jeep I saw. A 2010 Jeep Unlimited Sport. The first thing I did was jump in the back seat – to make sure my very important passenger would have enough room. This was critical to me. Boy did it.
Even though it was used, I still had to pay out the nose for it. My credit had been ruined by the ex-wife, so I had to pay an exorbitant interest rate and my monthly payments are almost as much as my mortgage payment.
But seeing the smile on that little girl’s face, makes it all worth it. Every single penny.
Two and a half years later, I’ve put over 40k miles on it. We’ve criss crossed the country. Going as far west as Yellowstone National Park, and as far north as North Dakota in it.
