Harkening back to its 1970’s roots, the Spitfire is back on the road after running outta gas for the first time. Had to be rescued by my Hawaiian missus (mahalo!) toting a gas can – whereupon being resuscitated, the Spitfire had this Palindromic Hawaiian Odometer Moment.
Also, now know that the graduated marking on the venerable (if not trusty) old Smith’s gas gauge (the distance between marks gets larger for the lower readings) is inversely proportional to how quickly the gas is consumed: under spirited driving conditions, that last 1/8th of a tank goes by almost as quick as you can say “Blimey! How far is it to that gas station” and “Do I have cell coverage here?”. Apart from some colorful language, this was also a valuable teachable moment for more 8yo son in the passenger seat, regarding how engines work (and don’t).
Sure, diamonds may be a girls best friend, but guys appreciate shiny things too. Kicking the anemic OEM Zenith Stromberg to the curb in favor of this Weber DGV downdraft carburetor has made the Spitfire (and me) quite pleased with ourselves. It’s like a new car: full of pep and torque, chirping tires at green lights, bellowing along at highway speeds… Also, relatively painless to install: had wiring already in place (from the Painless wiring harness I’d fitted) for the electric choke. Do miss fiddling with the manual choke on the dash a bit… but don’t really miss stalling, taking forever to warm up, and having the general sensation that the 1500 was always gasping for air.
Whilst enjoying the delightful task of removing the oil pan, it became apparent that jacking the engine up a bit would be helpful, thanks in no small part to some less than generous clearances for the Spitfire’s oil pan bolts engineered in by a diabolical chap at British Leyland back in the day. In keeping with the Triumph Spitfire Restoration Onion Effect (wherein peeling off and exposing one layer of detritus reveals yet another), during that process I tangled with what remained of the motor mounts, and deemed them somewhat past their prime. So out came the floor jack again and…
Hell yeah: managed to replace the motor mounts without dropping the engine and trans on the floor! AND managed not to bugger up the “new” oil pan!
…while I was at it and things were all jacked up removed the rear trans mounts too – now can permanently (again, for the second time – so much for planning ahead!) cover this over with the new gearbox cover and carpet.
That Revolutionary War re-enactment I had with the Spitfire’s oil pan a few weeks back was not just for sport: it was part exploratory surgery and part triage to assess the condition of said oil pan. The verdict was not good. Fortunately, a call to the ever helpful chap at Spitbits yielded the part the even they (along with all other suppliers) didn’t list on their site: the mythic oil pan. Sure it was a trifle used, but not as used as the one on my Spitfire. The quasi-solidified, primordial oil-based muck at the bottom of this pan convinced me that the only way to really change the oil in this Spifire was to throw out the pan with the bathwater. (The old oil pan has since been convalescing in my retirement community for parts that will one day be refurbshed and ebay’d).
Pictured here, we’re 1/2 way thru a thorough (albeit messy) oil change (1st in over 10 years) process consisting of: unmounting the engine; jacking up engine; shoehorning old oil pan out from between bottom of block, top of frame crossmember & front of bellhousing.
Down under where the sun don’t shine on a triumph Spitfire – bottom of block flange cleaned & ready to meet the “new” oil pan.
In the topless world of roadsters you don’t need heaters anyway, especially ones that leak on your feet once turned on. Added bonus for improved mpg: the Spitfire is now about 15 lbs lighter. At some point, restoring and ebay-ing this bad boy is on my list, but for now I’m more concerned with getting the car on the road.
Triumph Spitfire 1500 heater bypass installation – cleans up the plumbing in the engine bay a bit too!
Dear sadistic engineer at British Leyland: Sorry you lost the Revolutionary War, but it’s time to get over and stop senseless retaliation like placing one of the Spitfire 1500’s oil pan bolts 3/4 of an inch directly above the frame rail (at the other end of this open-end wrench, which is allowed about 15 degrees of travel) so as to be utterly inaccessible to any ratchet in the colonies.
Half an hour, several cold ones, a sore knuckle or two and a good deal of colorful language later, the offending oil pan bolt is liberated, and the oil pan is ready for removal.
Partial as I am to “Chevy Orange,” this “original” rocker cover had to go…
Much like Bugattis and other supercars, the mighty Spitfire requires highly specialized tools and technicians for maintenance such as removing & replacing the rocker cover gasket once every 1/4 century or so.
Getting the cork valve cover gasket (quite prone to warp & flex) pinned down to align properly took some doing: More highly sophisticated and specialized tools req’d.
New rocker cover proves my theory: chrome > Chevy Orange paint. In a triumphant aftermarket “win”, I only had to re-machine for about 15 minutes so the holes for the retaining nuts it came with were actually wide enough to fit. Gotta love “bolt on” aftermarket bits.
The long and winding road of restoring and maintaining a 1974 Triumph Spitfire 1500
