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.

Unlike MIG welding, the process in which TIG (tungsten inert gas) welding is performed involves numerous variables, from the cleanliness or purity of the welding source to the cleanliness and purity of the welding material, as well as multi-dexterity of the person doing the welding. But once you’ve mastered the physical aspect and become familiar with all the equipment and material parameters, you realize why TIG welding is just as much an art as it is a mechanical process as you admire the beautiful beads you’re now able to lay down. And while many relate TIG welding with aluminum applications (something we’ll cover next month), it’s just as applicable with mild steel.

There’s never been a better time to tackle a custom project, as today’s aftermarket can supply pretty much anything you need, especially if you don’t stray into oddball vehicle territory. The venerable Tri-Five Chevy is a case in point, where much like a ’32 Ford, brand-new steel bodyshells and new chassis are available.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” or so it’s been said. While I don’t buy that in its entirety, I’ll agree that we’re less likely to learn new tricks while working alone as opposed to working with others. Recently, I had an opportunity to work closely with the expert metalmen of Hot Rods & Hobbies in Signal Hill, California. There, under custom reconstruction, is a stately ’48 Cadillac sedan. With its roof lowered an appropriate 2 inches, there is no interruption to the Caddy’s inborn bulbous flow—it’s working. Now some may be thinking that a chop of such short proportions is mild, and therefore would not require as much head scratchin’ as a more radical chop. But let us assure you, for the curvaceous Cad, with its detachable post hardtop conversion, 2 inches did not come easily.

After last month’s crash course on Flatheads, I not only learned quite a bit myself, but earned a new respect for an engine I’d otherwise cared little about up until now. I’ll admit that previously basing my negative opinion toward Flatheads on the two bad experiences I’d had (mainly due to overheating issues) wasn’t fair—especially considering the fact I never attempted to figure out the problems, let alone fix them. But that was then … this is now.

We left the Purple Pig last month with the new EMS lower quarter-panels tack-welded in place, and continue now by installing the rear panel and rear trunk floor section.

Now that we’ve finally graduated from our short courses on MIG welding, we can move onto the next overview series: TIG welding. Otherwise known as Gas Tungsten Arc Welding (GTAW), this type of arc welding has a wider spread of material applications and user advantages than any other type, theoretically making it the perfect choice for both professional and hobbyist welders alike. But in reality, that doesn’t always seem to be the case.

In the early days of hot rodding, with the majority of hot rods being Fords, it stands to reason the ’30s and ’40s Ford “banjo” rearend dominated the scene. It’s still popular today with builders of traditional rods, even with the later 8- and 9-inch Ford axles being the mainstay of the street rod market.

Y’know, Project Purple Pig is just about the rustiest car I’ve ever had the “pleasure” to work on! Considering I’ve replaced the entire floor, both doors, the hood, both front fenders (hurrah, I finally found a good pair at the L.A. Roadsters Father’s Day Show swap meet! Though, if you’re the guy I bought ’em from, I do need the hood you tried to get me to buy!), the inner and outer rockers, the lower rear panel, some of the roof, the lower cowl braces, and now the lower quarter-panels, there’s not a lot left of the ol’ girl!

Up until now, my personal experience with Ford’s venerable L-head V-8 has been, oh, let’s just say anything but venerable. My first one, a bone-stock 8BA that powered my chopped ’49 Shoebox, was like me—hot headed … literally. After the culprit (head gasket) decided to make a break for it, I’d about had it with Flatheads (I was young and didn’t like messing around with old engines at the time—especially anything with a Blue Oval). But that wouldn’t be my last Flathead experience.

Our last foray with Metal Inert Gas (MIG) welding—which, by the way, is generally a misnomer for GMAW (Gas Metal Arc Welding), but it’s so commonly used, we’ll continue to do so—will be a general overview of its application with aluminum. Yes, that’s right, MIG welding aluminum … with Miller Electric Mfg. Co.’s Spoolmate 100 Series wire-feed spool gun. (The Spoolmate is not limited to aluminum, as it will also accommodate mild and stainless steel.)

If you think about it, headers are a lot like an induction system. As a means of transferring gases, they’re partly responsible for an engine’s behavior. They’re also greatly responsible for an engine’s image: Just as a multitude of carburetors can, a pair of headers will transform an also-ran into a front runner, if only aesthetically.

In our so-called English language, there are certain words that take a beating. For people like us, these words could include: custom, restored, patina, and last-but-not-least on the list, any variation of the word “tradition”. Like the others on the list, the word tradition is a perfectly good word when used properly. The trouble is that it’s been abused a bit as of late and its expanded definition can create confusion for the geezerly among us. Even so, based on what we see around us today, wouldn’t it be safe to say that the current trend is toward tradition?

We left off last month with the front axle and springs mounted to the Model A frame of my Modified project, which means the next logical step is steering and shock absorbers. With a normal cross spring-suspended I-beam, selecting steering arms and the tie rod is pretty straightforward, as there’s usually only one place the tie rod will fit; under (or through) the radius rods and under the chassis. The choice of cross steering, with something like a Vega box and universal joints connecting the steering column, or a solid column and box, such as an F-1 or stock ’32-34 box, will determine whether or not you’ll use a drag link from the left-hand spindle leading back to the steering box and pitman arm or not.

Seems like only yesterday that all you needed to manage an airbag system was a set of manual valves, some 3/8-inch line, and a basic tank/compressor setup. Well, looking back, I guess that was quite some time ago, as air management systems have come a long way since then.