Ode To The 2011 NTBA Nats July/11/2011

[WebMistress]

It seems that I’ve talked before about the uniqueness of our National meets,
Where we could be found at each particular location, cruising their streets.
I guess I didn’t stop to think about the above statement being true,
But, I’m a believer now after attending our Dayton Nats that was this year new.

A one-thirty a.m. start brought the pups and me unexpected pleasurable temps,
But, by one p.m. that ‘ole’ Texas heat started turning us into wimps.
One hundred miles short of Memphis we suffered our first BIG weather error,
Driving in a rain storm, at night, through Memphis produced cold, wet terror.
Water was on both sides of the windshield as well as my glasses,
With a renewed coating coming our way as each ‘semi’ passes.
This was quite a night to remember, at least for the participation of our part,
Not one that we ever wish to experience again in our little ‘T-cart’.

We continued driving into Kentucky the next morning as the weather cleared,
The roads were still rough; for my frame and drive train I started to fear.
Entering Ohio the roads got worse, then we hit rush hour Cincinnati traffic,
The carb began to cough with backfire through our pipes causing a racket.

Finally, around six o’clock, we reached that sought after Dayton town,
Thank goodness our Days Inn was so quickly and easily found.
But, that engine problem was doing a worrisome dance on my mind.
With driving almost impossible I knew that on Saturday I had a fix to find.

I might as well issue the next statement as early as I can,
It concerns the rough and treacherous roads over which we ran.
Little Rock’s, Memphis’s and Kentucky’s were bad, but Ohio’s were the worst,
However, upon rating the people of Ohio, we put them way above first!

Saturday I began my search to see if the engine problem could be found,
Sometime in the afternoon I heard a familiar engine sound.
I knew it was a T-Bucket, but who’s? so I turned around,
It was Tom and Jan Buckley, ready to check in for their stay in town.
For several years now, during our Nats, Tom, Jan, the pups and me,
Seem to end up staying at the same hotel, listed on its’ registry.

Please forgive me folks from this point on because my mind is in a haze,
I should have made an outline of the events occurring on each of the days.
Engine problems plagued me, and the left front radius rod bung could be broken,
Many rain storms kept me from cleaning the T more times than could be spoken.

Sunday brought little progress on the things mentioned that must be done,
Monday I cleaned the brass and pipes so I went on a Walmart food run.
It was ‘snap, crackle and pop’ from hotel to there and back,
The pups refused to ride with me, thinking the pops placed them under attack.

Tuesday I still had a main problem of getting the engine to run,
And then I must find a shop to weld the front left radius rod bung.
I was most fortunate to have a local hot rodder stop and visit with me,
He said that he could hook me up with a local hot rod shop to fix my T.
And he also alerted me that my right rear Pirelli had picked up a big nail,
When bad things start happening they come in droves, it seems to never fail.

It was then that Tom and Jan returned from the Brookville Roadster plant tour,
I was out of ideas for getting my T to run; I asked Tom if he might know of a cure.
Tom suggested that we replace the distributor cap & rotor with extras that I carry,
We started immediately to see if it would work, on this we did not tarry.

I had noticed that my Mallory Unilite was leaning against the firewall very tight,
We couldn’t get the back cap latch loose using all of our might.
Finally we put my small jack under the rear tranny mount and raised the frame,
A clearance appeared allowing the latch to be loosed and off that cap came.

We installed the new cap and rotor anticipating that the engine would light,
It started right up without a pop through either pipe.
There was still an occasional chock through the carb from time to time,
But, it ran well enough to put back in the driving line.

The local rodder called the street rod shop and they said, “Come on down.”
He sent his son to lead Tom and me to the shop, ‘special delivery by ground’.
Upon arrival we met owner Dave Pleasant of the Quality Machine Company,
His door was open to drive the T onto his lift where the work would be done for me.

This shop was for working on hot rods, customs and racers, all rich with fame,
Dave and his sons run the shop and they also weld Brookville Roadster’s frames.
They set about to adjust the lift arms to my T’s frame,
Then, up to eye level the front left radius rod bung came.

With my distributor angle in mind, I asked if we might view my T’s underside,
So, Dave ran the lift all the way up where we’d see any problem that might hide.
Several pair of eyes began inspecting, but there was only one small light,
I was having trouble seeing in that darkness with my limited sight.

Then I received some news that made me blue,
Both frame rails, at mid point, were broken in two.
I suspect it happened in Cincinnati, on our way to Dayton,
The reason for my T’s actions was explained with this news that was latent.
My apologies went out to Dave for interrupting his scheduled working day,
He responded that this repair was exactly what they do, for them it was play.
As they began the repair I inquired where I might buy some Holley parts,
I figured that my ‘double-pumper’ needed repair for more engine starts.

Dave wrote down the address of Kamer and Kamer Engines for Tom’s GPS,
We left for the store containing Holley parts; Tom’s Garmin led with no stress.
I bought all the Holley parts, but still needed a new cap and rotor for my Unilite,
We were directed to a Mallory parts store just four blocks past the corner light.
But, before we left the Kamer guys gave Tom and I a guided, shop tour,
Behind the sales desk was fifteen-thousand square feet of shop for sure.

Then we were off to see if the Mallory parts I needed would be in stock,
We had trouble with no GPS info, but finally found the correct street and block.
When we looked at the sign on the building it read ‘George’s Speed Shop’,
‘Ohio George’ turned out to be the owner; that gave Tom a pleasant shock.
George was a famous racer in the sixties; Tom had watched him race a lot,
He had the cap and rotor and gave me a special cash price for all that I got.
Then his son took us to their Buick V-six engine room on this our last stop,
There sat twenty-five for Indy car trainers, at ten to twelve thousand a pop.

Tom and I headed back to Dave’s shop with my parts collection now complete.
With the cruises I’d missed, the tours of our afternoon could certainly compete.
Almost four hours had expired by the time we got back to Dave’s shop,
The repair to my frame was finished so work had come to a stop.
It was time to pay the bill; I didn’t know whether I had enough cash on hand,
One-hundred dollars was the total; I thought the ‘bird of fortune’ did land.
Most shops would have charged that much per hour to do such a marvelous job,
I’m here to tell you folks, these people gave me blessings by the gob.

But wait, one problem remained which needed attention without fail,
Tom discovered that the right rear tire had air leaking from that embedded nail.
Before the lift lowered my T tires to ground, Dave’s boys called a tire shop close by,
We drove a block and found that shop and repairman was easy to spy.
He fixed the tire so quickly that I didn’t realize the repair was done,
So, with rain clouds moving in, we started a hasty ‘return to hotel’ run.
Tom and I arrived ahead of the rain, and soon after we covered our T’s,
Tuesday was done; would the new parts install Wednesday leave me pleased?

Wednesday morning gifted me with a much appreciated ‘rain-free’ sky,
Tom and Jan left for the Model T Museum tour while I began my ‘problem fix’ try.
The carb still coughed a lot when I put the engine under a load,
So, in went a new power valve, bigger jets and bowl gasket to keep us on the road.

Next came the new distributor cap and rotor I had bought at ‘Ohio George’s place,
Now the cap was not against the firewall; the frame repair created plenty of space.
I also decided it would probably be best to put in a new set of plugs,
The present set probably looked like they had been worked over by thugs.

With the new plugs installed I had completed the list of things to do,
Time to start the engine and see if it would produce an audible, melodious stew.
I turned the ignition key and the engine started but something did not sound right,
I opened the butterflies which brought carb backfire so I still had the fix to fight.
It was almost noon so I decided to ponder more while the pups and I had lunch.
Possibly, when Tom returned he might know how to get me out of this crunch.

When Tom returned he wanted to search for what made the engine run rough,
As I attempted to start the engine it didn’t light, only emitting one small puff.
As I cranked the engine Tom inspected a topless distributor for slop in the shaft,
The distributor rotation did not appear to be the problem plaguing my T craft.

Now we turned our attention to the carb seeking anything I might have missed,
Tom was given a card for Chris’s Carb Shop, he was the best the giver did insist.
We reached Chris at his shop, he said to bring the carb over and he’d check it out,
Tom and I did not realize that we would be given another shop tour that was stout.

Upon entering Chris’s shop we found carburetors covering all surfaces wall to wall,
His inventory contained new, used, antique and rare, he seemed to have them all.
Chris mounted my carb on top of his test engine which was on a stand,
He started the engine and made a few fine adjustments with screw driver in hand.
Running it through a gambol of RPM ranges produced only carburetor ‘sweet talk’,
Chris said, “This carb is fine, you’ll have to look elsewhere for your engine’s balk.”

Tom and I now reconsidered that the problem was with the distributor,
Chris asked if we had checked for a warp which could be the contributor.
Tom said yes as we pondered finding a distributor with the Mallory brand,
Just then Chris returned from the front of his shop with a Unilite in his hand.

I was flabbergasted and asked, “It looks almost new, does it perform up to par?”
Chris said, “It was working just fine some time ago when I took it out of a car!”
I asked Chris if he would consider selling it to me; by now I needed ‘good lucks’,
He bowled me completely over when he said, “Sure, how about fifty bucks?”

I paid Chris for the Unilite then Tom and I were quickly on our way,
Chris had stayed open past closing time, now it was late in the day.
When we got back to our hotel we made ready to make the distributor switch,
We set about to mark everything for timing’s sake to avoid an untimely hitch.

For the first time at any of our Nats I was minus my distributor wrench,
Jan’s smaller hands made remounting the clamp down bolt a cinch.
It took a while to tighten that bolt down where she thought it was snug,
We had arrived at the time for giving the engine a ‘starting nudge’.

I turned the ignition to start and received a choke through the carb in return,
We noticed the distributor do a ‘hula-hula’ dance with each crankshaft turn.
Tom put his hand on the distributor and asked me to do the start once more,
He turned the cap counter-clock-wise as I cranked and the engine lit off with a roar!

The engine sounded so great since it was running clean and fine,
I hadn’t run that well for a very long time.
It was obvious that the clamp down bolt was still loose so Jan went back to work,
By the time she got through tightening it this time, you couldn’t move it with a jerk!

Then Tom figured out the reason for my previous days ‘snap, crackle and pop,
It all traces back to the cracked frame in Cincinnati causing a slight body drop.
The firewall began to lean hard against the distributor cap’s back attachment clip,
This caused a clockwise movement of the distributor base; it was only a little slip.
On a small block Chevy that retards the timing and too much causes consternation,
Too much retard in the timing was the problem; Tom made a correct observation.

It was even later now with wet weather appearing to move in,
A quick check with the weather radar showed that a storm would soon begin.
As I threw the cover over my T a few, small raindrops began to fall,
The pups’ and my chances of making the Tamale Throw Down were getting small.
I really hated to miss the ‘Throw Down’ and make us appear as ‘rookies’,
The tamales are always good, plus Steve Arnold, once again brought his cookies!

Once again negative things had happened and kept me from all the fun,
Time had slipped all the way to Thursday before I could take my T on a run.
With the radiator in Colorado and frame separation in Dayton, I did a double take,
It’s beginning to be an invitation to attend our Nats and watch T-Pilot break.
I’d heard that Luggy’s new T had broke; I bet he wasn’t happy with what he saw,
Luggy, do you think you and I might now be considered ‘break-in-laws’?

Thursday morning, with pups on board, we arrived at the Marriott for the first time,
The T’s were ready for a cruise to the Air Force Museum, so we prepared to get in line.
With time to spare I exited my seat to view all those T’s which looked so fine,
Immediately I met Luggy, which was a surprise encounter of the nicest kind.
Then I saw Punkun and told him about the rough highways that we rode,
He said that one bridge entrance launched his T so high; his four tires left the road.

Soon we were on our way and parked safely at our destination for the day,
Next to our parking area sat several big planes just a stone’s throw away.
As we prepared for a walk to the indoor exhibits, Big Bill pulled us aside,
He asked us to meet him in the lobby at ten for news coverage of us and our ride.

After a long walk we entered the lobby with several minutes to spare,
We watched as time moved closer to ten; Big Bill still was not there.
An official informed me that within the Museum walls my pups could not stay,
So, we went back out and I sat on a bench which was beside the entrance way.

I figured that we had missed Big Bill and I did not know where he might be,
Then I was informed to meet Big Bill on the parking lot edge by a big tree.
When we arrived at that spot, we found Big Bill with Dayton TV channel two,
We knew we would not be alone when we saw Rolla and his T come into view.

I wasn’t anxious that the TV watchers in Dayton be subjected to view my ugly puss,
The pups jumped up saying, “We’ll take the camera time since you’re such a Wuss!”
Thus, the interview began with Big Bill sitting on the left back tire of Rolla’s T,
He spoke of T’s driven to Dayton from other states and mentioned the pups and me.

Rolla was assigned to give two lady officials present a T-bucket ride on the grounds,
Those of you that know about Rolla’s T know how hard on the ground it pounds.
And, individually, he gave them quite a ride, for each in a T it was a first,
I knew that during each event Rolla would produce one of his ‘loud pedal bursts’.
As eight cylinders spoke through his pipes with that familiar tubular sound,
As the second ride ended the TV man turned the camera so the pups could be found.

I led the pups to the right side of the T where they jumped in with a bound,
They sat there perfectly still, with smiles on their faces, each like a happy hound.
The camera was taking pictures from the left side over the steering wheel,
I still think I heard them say, “Hey! For us, this is a real big deal!”
Then some close up shots were taken on the ground when the pups got out of our T,
When Queen got up and approached the camera, her nose was the last image to see.

By now Tom and Jan had returned from the exhibits and left for the host hotel,
Upon arriving at the Marriott, Weelstang mentioned a pizza run from what I could tell.
But, it had been a long day and now late in the day plus my pups had not been fed,
So we headed on over to our hotel where I could also put my T to bed.

We had previously been told that Friday would be one of our best cruise destinations,
We would drive to Covington, Ohio to tour D & D Classic Automobile Restoration.
The facilities were quite spread out so we toured in three separate groups,
Residing in the buildings, we viewed many roadsters, sedans and coupes.

Forty cars must have filled these buildings; some were rare while others had fame,
Not to be outdone by the cars, some of the company tools rated about the same.
For instance, I had seen several Yoder’s in the past but, never a Yoder Double End,
The owner found it in a field, but, on an aircraft carrier was where it had originally been.

We had a fundraiser lunch at D & D for a local Boy Scout troop,
After our meal, Tom and I pointed our T’s at Dayton to complete the cruising loop.
We got within two blocks of the Marriott when I sensed that my T was in a bind,
And then it came to a complete stop as if under a continuous grind.

Tom saw that I had trouble so he doubled back to see what might be wrong,
I explained that, with my transmission in neutral, I still couldn’t push my T along.
We decided that I should drive to the Marriott parking lot risking what might be broke,
Entering the lot, I found out what was wrong as I saw my front calipers emitting smoke!

I started contemplating about where this problem might lay,
Then I touched my brake pedal and it was ‘rock hard’, with no ‘FREE PLAY’!
This time I knew the origin of the problem, which returned me to the broken frame,
With the frame welded up, the brake rod pushed the plunger with no refrain.

So, Tom grabbed a wrench and broke the right front brake line loose,
That brought forth an immediate expulsion of ‘brake juice’.
Then he pushed on the tire and my T was able to roll,
That constant pressure on the plunger had really taken a toll.

I still had to reestablish free play but the brake rod was too low for me to see,
Then a fellow Buckethead brought his jack to lift up my T.
Tom broke the jam nut loose so that the adjustment could be made,
After installing the brake rod I could not see where the retainer clip should be laid.

Then my fellow Buckethead was able to slide much further under my frame than me,
Where he reattached the clip and located the return spring in a better place to be.
I thank the Lord that each member of my N.T.B.A. family can be counted as my friend,
Bucketheads with trouble in the past found member help, on that one could depend.

The pups and I developed a ‘bunker attitude’; over us it did loom,
Wondering what might happen next, we retreated to our hotel room.
Then I realized that I had no more reason to worry than a ‘man on the moon’,
I should think of Saturday to replace any worry; that did happen soon.

Saturday at our ‘Show and Shine’ things were progressing peachy and keen,
“Would you like some watermelon?” suddenly came from a voice unseen.
I didn’t want to miss out on that, but as I started to stand up I lost my chair,
This would be a dumb stunt causing me to fall back on my ‘derriere’.

After I slammed my ‘twat’, I didn’t move around a lot,
I was able to stumble through the lot and make some camera shots,
My camera battery expired as I sought to find the valve cover races,
Uncle Larry informed me that they had been moved to inside hotel spaces.
Our T’s were ready as usual for the Saturday ‘Show and Shine’,
The public arrived for viewing all day in a steady line.
One of the local visitors brought Milk Bones for King and Queen,
He said that it was mentioned on our TV interview that he’d seen.

We spent some time at RPM’s booth where we could inquire within,
We’re hoping that he can make us a stronger, new pair of front ‘hair pins’.
Located just one hundred feet from Ron’s booth was a Cold Stone Ice Cream truck,
I still cannot believe that the pups and I never got there to try our luck.

The afternoon passed so quickly as our National Meeting time came and went,
Then I went outside and with help, I secured my tent.
We were treated to a Bar-B-Que plate before the Nats would officially end,
The pups and I left for our hotel since I had a repacking of my trailer to begin.

Big Bill must be congratulated for putting our Dayton Nats together,
Don’t blame him for having no control over the roads or the weather.
It takes someone to volunteer as host or we’d have NO NATS that year,
Organizing and planning a Nats can create a lot of unexpected fear.
I think Big Bill thought it out before he volunteered in the first place,
The pups and I thank you for a Nats full of fashion, style and grace!

I cannot leave without adding to the mix these words for all to view,
I’m sure that the words mentioned below also apply to you.
I believe the Lord watches over the pups and me as we drive from town to town,
As evidenced by this year’s Nats trip from Texas to that Dayton town.
All of us that broke this year were in dire need of a fix,
None would have received the repair needed without the Lord being in the mix.

Now we turn our thoughts to next year’s Nats, it’s a yearly thing we do,
We’ll be in Tennessee at the host hotel which is the Chattanooga Choo Choo.
If we could begin the twenty-twelve Nats tomorrow I’m sure that would do,
But, as with previous Nats, we’ll wait till next June for our family gathering to renew.

Herman T. Quackenbush July 11, 2011

A.k.a. T-Pilot with Pups
A.k.a. John Eplen