Last month we followed along as Chopit Kustom installed a March Performance serpentine belt kit on the 460 Ford in Robbie Freeman’s ’57 Ranchero in preparation for fitting a Vintage Air A/C system—which means this month we’ll show you just that! While Vintage Air offers many kits that are vehicle-specific, with hoses already crimped or hard lines ready to install, the major components can be made to fit any vehicle; it just takes a little more work and planning.

I’ve been very pleased with the gas mileage the 305ci Chevy small-block in my ’46 roadster pickup has returned, but over the course of the past few months it’s been increasingly obvious that it’s getting tired. This culminated in a nice knocking from the bottom end of late. Rather than rebuild the 305 again, I thought it’d be a neat idea to show what can be accomplished by sourcing both an engine and all the ancillaries and dress-up items from a single source.

Let’s face it, when it comes to the debate between corded and cordless tools, more often than not the argument is won on personal preference just as much as it is on performance. Now, while all the hand tool companies are racing to build a better battery-powered device, others, such as JET, have remained grounded, kept their cords plugged in, and simply perfected what they know best. At the end of the day, the majority of our tools that we can always rely on will require an electrical outlet—and not for recharging dead batteries.

The prospect of replacing old parts with newly designed ones has great appeal, I’ll grant you that. It’s probably the easiest way to improve a car’s performance. But that doesn’t always make it the best way.

We ran across Robbie Freeman’s ’57 Ranchero at Chopit Kustom, not long after their doors opened, following the company’s move cross-country from Florida to California. The Ford was in the shop for the addition of air conditioning, but having a 460 Ford engine under the hood ought to make things difficult, with custom brackets required for the compressor at the very least, right?

Last month we explained how we corrected a goof. If you haven’t read the story, someone along the order chain assumed that all ’39 Chevrolets rode on the same front suspensions. They don’t, and as luck would have it the wrong crossmember showed up at Thun Field Rod & Custom. It turned out a blessing in disguise, for Marshall Woolery took what would’ve amounted to a repeat of the installation instructions and transformed it into an exercise in creative problem solving. He also revealed a few solid measuring and installation techniques along the way.

No matter what our particular taste in cars, there’s one thing we all share in common: tools. Whether it’s as basic as a ratcheting screw driver or something more elaborate, such as a bench-top belt sander, each one of us has at least one tool—but many of us have, well, many tools in our garage arsenal. And it’s for those of you in that latter group to whom this new column, Tool Time, is devoted … for the guy/gal who loves and appreciates good tools and related equipment. What will set this apart from just regurgitated and elaborated press releases, you may wonder? Simple: hands-on testing and real feedback. That said, don’t expect to read about any so-so stuff, so to speak, because if it’s not up to snuff in the first place, we won’t bother reviewing and wasting our time writing about it!

Ever since I first put my roadster pickup together some 12 years ago I’ve always been aware that the rearend was the weak link. I had the TH350 rebuilt, and the small-block was fresh, but the 10-bolt was straight out of a junker ’82 Caprice, complete with the stock triangulated four-link. The axle bearings run directly on the driveshafts on these axles, and mine always leaked, even after the fitment of “axle-saver” bearings a few years ago. When I had the bed off to prep it for paint, I figured the time had come to swap the axle for a better version. I acquired a 1-inch narrower 10-bolt from a later model wagon and intended to swap my brackets over, but ultimately opted to install a Currie Enterprises 9-inch Ford-based rearend and fit my GM brackets to that, especially after I found that Currie manufactures adjustable tubular arms exactly for my application. A no-brainer, right?

The advent of the modern aftermarket parts industry turned amateurs into craftsmen. As the industry addressed its needs the market only clamored for more, resulting in a rich catalog of problem-solving parts. Forget updating a car; you can build one entirely from scratch using all aftermarket or reproduction goodies.

To me, the appeal of vintage engines typically ends at the bellhousing surface—I basically have no use for the accompanying tranny. I know, there are plenty of you who are particular to Top Loaders and the like, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Unless you’re going drag racing or trying to keep up with 65-mph (plus!) traffic on a regular basis, early engines are just fine with early transmissions. Knowing their limitations helps the driver adapt to the particular conditions at hand, but why not do the opposite?

When we first put the ’46 roadster pickup together, we used the rearend from a junk ’82 Caprice, complete with the stock triangulated four-link and antiroll bar, although the emergency brake cables were still attached, we never connected them up. Rusted and not exactly smooth in operation, we planned on replacing them in fairly short order, so we zip-tied them to a crossmember temporarily.

Let’s see, should we stay home, take care of business and maybe pay the bills, or load some supplies and cross the state to volunteer our time in a friend’s residential garage? This “no-brainer” began with one of them new-fangled electronic letters. The message came out of Livermore, California, from my friend, Sam Strube. Sam and his brothers, John and Matt, are all avid hot rodders and each of them have built a good handful of cars over the years. Like many of us, their interest was sparked by their father’s influence.

If you thought the benefits of a plasma cutter ended at the torch’s cutting tip, you’re in for a bit of a surprise. In this final installment of our yearlong Cliff’s Notes fabrication tips collaboration with Miller Electric Mfg. Co., we’ll examine a variety of above-and-beyond options only a Spectrum X-Treme machine(s) can offer.

You know how there are some jobs that you just never seemed to get around to? The front of my 1946 Ford roadster pickup is a perfect example. It’s been on the road for a few years now, yet I never seem to find the time to fit the front bumper or fabricate a lower pan. Matters were made worse by the ugly radiator mounts that were supposed to be temporary over a decade ago, and are not only still there, but were in plain view under the grille.

There ain’t no gettin’ away from it; if you’re going to build a car, you’re going to be drilling a lot of holes. You’ll also likely be welding more than a few up too, especially if you intend to nose, deck, or otherwise remove trim. It may sound odd, unless you’re familiar with tools or work in the automotive industry, but there’s more than one way to drill a hole.

As we’ve illustrated elsewhere in this month’s issue, there are numerous ways in which to sever metal of all shapes and sizes—in all shape and size manners. Whether it’s a nice, clean bandsaw cut or ragged-edge torching, the end result ultimately relies and depends upon the tool that’s used in the first place. Two things to take into consideration when acquiring specific metal-cutting tools are cost and application. For general use, an electric grinder can accomplish various tasks at a very affordable price; for more frequent use, along with the aforementioned bandsaw, a good plasma cutter will go a long way in all facets of fabrication. But with the increased applications come increased prices, obviously. It’s up to you to determine if the investment’s “worth” it or not as far as time and effort savings go.

The term “gypsy dent puller” might not be something everyone’s familiar with, but we’ve all seen the results of their traveling trade. Typically, the method used by these roving bodywork specialists involves four basic procedures: drilling numerous holes (in and all around a dent), slide-hammering the riddled metal out, plastering Bondo over it, and applying a thick undercoating-type spray paint (ultimately to aid in disguising their shoddy work lying beneath). All four of these steps are unnecessary to begin with. Dents can be pulled—either paintless or bare sheetmetal—without drilling a single hole or via applying anything more than a very thin skimcoat of filler in the end. It is really that simple.

If you’ve read the last two issues (and if not, why not?), you’ll know we’ve been upgrading Paul Gauvry’s ’55 Chevy wagon, using parts from Classic Performance Products. Following a total suspension and brake upgrade, in this final installment we swap the power steering and a new column. In an ideal world we would have done this at the same time as the suspension mods, but our tech center manager, who performed the work, had other jobs to complete at the same time, which is why you’ll see the new center steering link and tie rods connected to the old Pitman arm in some of the following shots. This enabled him to move the wagon around easily until he tackled the power steering box and column installation.

After finishing my traditional-looking ’31 Model A in 2007, I just got busy driving the wheels off it. I will be the first to say that this Model A is not period correct in every way, and every time I opened the trunk that modern Optima battery was sticking out like a sore thumb—the lack of trunk mat and side panels didn’t help matters much, either. Regardless of style of car, unfinished would be the correct description.

For over 35 years I’ve made a career of refinishing various forms of motor vehicles, including rods and customs. Over that span I’ve had opportunities to shoot everything from nitrocellulose lacquer (which was even older than me) to PPG’s up-to-date waterborne Envirobase. Back in the ’70s when I became involved in the trade, an acrylic lacquer job was still the top-of-the-line finish. For the in-and-out jobs, acrylic and synthetic enamels were—well, they were what we had. Unlike the modern finishes we use today, the aforementioned were forgiving in that mixing proportions weren’t so critical. In fact, many mixers of that era relied on a measuring method that took its name from the sound a reducer can makes when it’s opened and turned upside-down, “the glub system.” Here’s an example of how it worked: 3 glubs of color to 1 1/2 glubs of reducer, give or take a few glubs. Don’t try that with today’s primers, basecoats, or acrylic urethane clears. Along with our current material’s superior durability comes magnified sensitivity to loosey-goosey mixing mistakes. Now more than ever, the mixer had best be part chemist—and chemical components must be mixed in exact accordance to the manufacturer’s recommendations.

I know I’m not the only one with two projects in a two-car garage and who spends an inordinate amount of wasted time moving one or the other around to work on them. My roadster pickup runs and can be driven out of the garage, but the Purple Pig ’49 Chevy isn’t a runner yet (it’s close, but I know what I’m like, and if I get it running I’ll start driving it and never finish it!) and I can’t push it back in my garage on my own if I move it out. While I have a set of four-wheel dollies, not only are they hard to move over rough ground (and my garage floor ain’t the smoothest concrete; I’ve even been asked if it’s a dirt floor by people who’ve seen pictures of the car in there!), but invariably I’ll have the car up on jackstands and have to lower it onto the dollies to move it over just so I can get the pickup in at night.

Over the past few months, I’ve been reading and studying the various installments of Metal Shop more like a student eager to further develop his fledgling welding skills rather than as an editor proofreading for grammatical errors. In the process, between all the lines of product information (promotion?), I’ve actually been able to dissect some valuable information. But best of all, it’s forced me to spend more time out in the garage messing around and experimenting. While I’ll never be a “self-taught” pro TIG welder, I am doing my best to become as proficient as possible so that, one day, I can feel confident that my welds will be strong and integral—maybe not pretty, but …

Hot rodding is all about going fast, though it’d be foolish to increase performance without increasing braking capacity. If you’ve experienced brake fade or simply not been able to bring a car to a stop once you’ve made performance upgrades, you’ll appreciate the importance of improving the “whoa” as well as the “go”.

Over the years I’ve owned the Purple Pig ’49 Chevy, especially when it was on the road, I’ve always wanted to do something about the “plain” rear bumper. I felt it needed something a little more elaborate to add extra styling, as well as a little more chrome, to the rearend of the car. A few months ago, I stumbled across a mid-’50s Oldsmobile in my local late-model junkyard. After a few hours with wrenches and a hammer and chisel, the grille was mine for a paltry $18. I figured it’d make a neat addition to the ’49, with the exhausts exiting through the oval sections.

It happens to us all; in fact, it happens not only to us but to everyone and everything around us as well. I’m talking about old age, an affliction that doesn’t discriminate between the living or inanimate objects. Time takes its toll.