Homer Bound:
An Account of My Solo Travels to Homer, Alaska in a 1966 VW
Westy Named Clara
September/October, 2009
Page 1 - Countdown
For any trip, preparation is important. For this one, though, I felt that there would be no way I could prepare enough, especially when considering that the bus had not moved more than a few feet in the driveway during the course of the last year-and-a-half. Partly because of economics, this stasis was also due to certain mechanical issues, some of which I knew about (like the obvious bad brakes evidenced by the brake fluid spilling from the right rear cylinder down the tire), some I suspected because of oil leaks and overheating problems, and one in particular I had no idea about until mere days before the trip was to begin. It was this particular disaster that gave the voyage a particular zest. I had fixed the brakes, tuned up the engine, lubed the front end, bearings and steering box, and checked over pretty much all the systems, and packing was already underway when I got around to changing the crankcase oil and the oil in the tranny and reduction boxes. The engine oil change went as expected: Black goo from hard use and then neglect. I cleaned it out well, and inspected the engine for the sources of the leaks. With two extra filters, an oil pan, and lots of oil, I figured I’d be able to deal with pretty much anything on that front. The transmission was another story altogether.
I got both engine and
transmission good and hot before the purge, and drained the hot
tranny fluid into clean pans. After scooching out from under the
bus with the magnetic plugs, I saw to my chagrin that on the plug
from the rear (differential) chamber the usual amount of shavings
were present, but also, a nice chunk of metal, which at first
looked like a bit of a roller bearing. It was about 3/8”
long, and just shy of ¼” in diameter. Hmmm.
Consternation. Mental wailing and gnashing of proverbial teeth.
This was NOT what I needed to find right now! However, the tranny
sounded and shifted fine, and I had no real idea how long that
whatever-it-is had been there. So, remembering a tranny situation
similar to this with a 280Z that lasted for years before I sold
it, I went ahead and put the fresh fluid in, and completed the
operation by draining and refilling the reduction gear boxes.Needless to say, however, I did put out word to a couple knowledgeable friends, in hopes that this mystery object could be identified. As many of us are aware, Volkswagenwerk was in the habit of inserting entirely useless and unneeded extra bits of metal here and there, so I had nothing to fear, right? Not quite. After about a day, I got back word from all three of those I queried: The fragment I had extracted looked suspiciously like the pin that holds the shaft on which the spider gears ride. Normally, there is not much shock or strain on this piece, but after talking to Bill from Arizona Transaxle Exchange, I was gifted with the knowledge to not only verify that this part was what we all thought it must be, but to understand its function. I jacked up the bus, drained the rear tranny again (into a clean container for re-use), and then lay there with a flashlight staring up at the differential as I rotated the wheels in various directions. I was able to see just how the diff. operated, and also confirmed that the rest of the pin was still in the shaft. OK, then, thought I … I’ll just use the pin that Aaron was sending me, else I would install a spring pin like they use in later model IRS transaxles. Using a drift, I was then able to get the other two bits of the pin out. I did note that the shaft was turning in its bore in the differential body, and that it was just a bit sloppy in there.
Working through the drain hole, I
installed the new pin, and immediately checked, as Bill had
instructed, for free rotation of both wheels in opposite
directions. Oops. No luck! Another call to Bill (thanks Bill!)
resulted in the realization that one of the spider gears was
galled to the shaft, and because of the difficulty that Bill has
had in removing gears frozen like this, even on the bench, we
ascertained that it might as well be considered welded …
who could know how long this had been so? While he issued no
guarantee, it was his thought that since the shaft had not yet
slid out and destroyed the transmission, I had a good chance of
making it to Homer. However, he cautioned, it might be good to
refrain from too much in the way of off-road shenanigans! Should
that shaft break, or have a reason to free itself from the gear
and slide free of the differential while at speed, the shrapnel
from the exploding transmission would be most heinous, not to
mention the spillage of the tranny fluid all over the highway,
which would surely make the next motorcyclist a little unhappy
with me, and the VW aspect of the trip would be over, turning
quickly into a tow truck and U-haul with trailer kind of ordeal
– no fun!
So damn the sheared pin, full
speed ahead! I replacing the oil, and buttoned things up. On with
the packing. With a pretty fair complement of spare parts, full
tool kit, and all the various thingies and whatsits I could think
of, I finished packing the bus with a few lighter odds and ends
from the homestead. A roll of deer fencing, a roll of greenhouse
plastic, a couple stereos, a box of wires and speakers and stuff,
and various pots and doodads for the garden rounded out my load.
On top of the bus, affixed to a makeshift roof rack, were two
un-mounted studded tires, and my mounted spare. Inside the empty
tires were a small floor jack, two jack stands, an oil pan, and a
couple blocks of wood. The tires were sitting on top of plywood,
so it would be there just in case I needed it. A 2.5-gallon gas
can was nestled inside the spare, and a folded tarp was covered
by a smaller tarp to keep the rain out of the tires. I had
several poles lashed up there as well. I was thinking that should
I need to use the spare (but well-worn) long block that was
acting as ballast inside the cargo area, I might also need the
fixin’s for a lean-to. This is one case where I’m
glad I thought of and brought all this stuff, as it helps prove
that if you pack it, you won’t need it, and if you
didn’t you will!Actually, that’s all a bunch of fatalistic hooey, but I’d rather think I was kinda prepared for once.
It was a good thing I didn’t need that long block, as I would probably have to have taken it apart to re-insert and re-peen the oil pickup tube into place! The engine ran just fine when I retired it, and it had great oil pressure too, but that was only if the bus was going straight. Any corner in either direction that had any sideways G-force to it resulted in a momentary and complete loss of oil pressure. At least I had it with me, just in case … like the extra fuel pump, distributor, oil cooler, clutch parts, brake parts, gasket kit, fuel line, drag link, tie rods, clutch and accelerator cables, yada yada yada … the only thing I didn’t have a spare of was a transmission – not even a spare nose cone! OK, OK, I didn’t have a set of spare spindles or lower outer RGB bearings – lay off, willya? Jeez. For those of you who really like to nitpick, here’s my list of known spare parts!
You’re probably wondering about now whatever happened to this trip about which the report you are reading was supposed to be about. I warned you! Well it starts about now … I was fully stocked with parts and food and too many clothing options as well. Had I forgotten anything? As it turned out, it was the Dijon mustard, but I did without. So, on Tuesday, the twenty-second of September of the year 2009, at around 5:30 or so, I bid my dear Michele farewell, gave the ducks and cats a cursory goodbye, and set out, bumping and clanking through the meadow on my mission to Homer!
Next: Homer Bound Trip Report: Page Two
Gene Cornelius
mizamook@geemail dot com
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