(This is a series with new parts coming at irregular intervals about, finally, the restoration of Winston an RHD 1978 Mini 1000)

Winston began with a Jeep that was a nice early nineties, Renegade, on Craigslist. It was shiny and oddly cheap, but my brother-in-law kept reading to discover why. Once satisfied it wasn't a bad price for what it was, he went to have a look. It had a leaking head gasket and the transmission wouldn’t stay in fifth gear for very long. Tom always believed that having proper tools, instructions and parts is ninety percent of any job so since the Jeep drove and didn’t smoke or overheat but only dripped from the gasket down the side, he paid the money and for another two-hundred dollars of his own money replaced the leaking head gasket. That left the other problem of the transmission that wouldn’t stay in fifth.

The new mission for this non-daily driver was to drive around looking for better transmissions in salvage yards. He gave the Jeep a full service when he replaced the head gasket and I mean full service. All ends flushed and lubricated and filled and filters changed and cleaned, etc. The works. Then a surprise. The longer he drove it after the total new service, the longer it stayed in fifth gear. It eventually fixed itself. There is nothing like that feeling of winning something in life. Being lucky. Cruising around with your mobile radio gear mounted up the way you wanted it and going places. Getting hit in the right rear six months later and the insurance company totaling out the perfectly like-new Jeep.

A check got cut for a few thousand more than Tom had in the whole project since it had nothing wrong with it. And there he sat, with my sister, looking at eBay motors wondering what to search. Something fun they could enjoy. They both had good University jobs, didn’t have kids nor a giant mortgage. And they scrolled on and on searching within their part of the country until Tom saw it.

(This is the original craigslist picture I lifted from an email.)

“Oooo, a mini!”

Orange. Sitting in the grass yard by a nice house far away from town in that picture. It was three-hundred-sixty miles away in Memphis. He sent an email.

Tom drove the car back, with his dad driving behind in his truck, full of tools and ropes and straps and whatever it might take to get the car home should anything go wrong. The only thing Tom had to fix was the wiring to the blower fan for the heater core and defrosting. Otherwise, he got about fifty miles per gallon all the way back, five gallons at a time.

They named it Winston right away.

They enjoyed it. It was his daily seven miles drive to work car, errands to ACE Hardware car, the I need a fountain drink at the Circle-K car. He couldn’t go anywhere without it starting a conversation. For example, Tom walked out of a 7-Eleven on the campus holding a Big Gulp to find three college girls standing by Winston. “Oh my god, it’s sooo cuuute!”

Oh my god, I’m soooo married!

It was a go-kart that didn’t need to slow down for any corners on a city street. Whipping around and not only was parallel parking easy, but you got in and out of the right-hand-drive machine on the sidewalk!

But life kept going. The garage under the house became crowded with other projects, and as Winston became an outdoors car, any work it needed became a reason to not drive it as much. Especially when it’s own head-gasket began to seep, into cylinder number three. About this time they were planning a move across town, and the house ahead did not have a place for Winston.

I always liked Winston and was off and on looking for one of my own that wasn’t a restored Cooper or 1275GT princess or a rusted parts-car basket case. Tom needed out of his car which was no longer running, but that put a kibosh on deciding what price it would be because what he paid for it a few years before was definitely not the price it would fetch in the current condition. It was obvious now where some body repair and bondo and other slight fix-its had occurred. The thin respray paint job was getting thinner. Flakes showed the original Vermillion Red underneath. So we struck a deal since time was short. I could have it; however, if I sold it in the future, he gets half the money. I was under no obligation to sell it, but I couldn’t just turn around and sell it for scrap right away. So, I could fix it up, do whatever restoration was needed along the way and enjoy it. I thought that was a good deal, so I paid for the trailer rental and he brought it out during their Thanksgiving visit.

(As it arrived in 2011)

When rolling the car off the trailer I got in to manage the brakes, where my foot sunk into the carpet of the driver’s floor, with a crunch to discover a square of the floor had given way. My sister was watching out actions and said, “Tom? Did we just give him a hunk of crap?”

Tom exhaled a chuckle, “Uh, well, I guess we did! Oh no…”

I wasn’t expecting a rust free car here. By far. But after pulling up the carpet and discovering the things carpet hides, I don’t think Tom knew at all how much the coming investigation would reveal.

(Ten years later, Today…)

Meanwhile, we had brother-in-law garage time,

pulling the head and sending it to the local shop to have it pressure tested and measured for any warpage.
(gasket damage here)

It came back clean. I checked the block deck for square. I knew it was going to happen during the visit so I ordered a nice set of ARP head studs to replace the head-bolts; And boy, I’m now a true believer in ARP.

Right before they had to leave, we got it fired up and I was adjusting the mixture. They left after a nice week-long visit and when home from work I fiddled with it here and there until I got the ignition timing points replaced with a pertronix system and set up to the proper degree. Then I got the carb happy. It was a sewing machine at idle and started within a quarter of a turn-over when I hit the key. It was fun to drive at twenty-five miles per hour! Around the neighborhood once in a while. It had no plates. No insurance. Needed brakes pumped up one good stroke to get them to work so I could stop. That was a problem. But Winston still looked good in his new home.

The problems after this point is the rest of the story.

We got it titled in Colorado and went as far as the VIN confirmation and everything they need us to get by law within a specific time, short of getting plates. Which I wouldn’t get until it was safe and ready. It never was and that investigation of problems yielded severe rust brought on by the age-split rubber gasket holding the rear window in place.
(today...)

Before arriving in Colorado, the car sat outside under the Missouri sun, the rear window gasket dried out enough to stretch and split where it was glued together at the factory. At the bottom of the window, where rainwater would come in and settle on the floors, in the corners, and rust the quality seventies English steel. The drum brakes on all four corners also held their water and did a number on the brake-shoe pistons. The suspension had collapsed in the front by this time and was probably entirely original nineteen-seventy-eight as well to go along with it all. I had a project that was beyond just replacing parts. I had a restoration project now that had to be taken completely apart and all parts repaired or replaced.

Replaced more like it.

My parts list was now replacing near everything but the interior and the steering rack and front subframe. All brake corners would get replaced, all suspension parts overhauled, shocks, etc. And after consulting with a Mini specialist, the cost of fixing the body was, well, into the buy a second project car territory and start with that body since it was less rotten. By far!

If you haven’t stopped over at the Restoration Mini website, do so. It is where folks with mini projects are all discussing how-to and what-nots about the process. A very good a active group. I got to meet the webmaster and site owner, Dan, a while ago to discover we work in the same business so anything he does in this Mini world is not his bread and butter, but a passion. So we decided to re-shell Winston, using a project car a friend of his lost interest in. I sent money.
(Disassembled)

(Getting stripped)

That body is the same generation as mine and already by doing this I saved probably two-thousand dollars on the total restoration cost which is the other story; The cost of making Winston whole, and it’s value compared to what I would owe Tom.

The total cost is reaching $10,000 and if it’s $11,000, it will probably be exactly how I want it. That will be a virtually new mini and worth about what I have in it at that point. So I would lose half of that by selling it. As luck would have it, by chance I had helped someone move what was virtually their husband’s estate contents on to people who could use their things and the value of those things happened to be very agreeable with Tom, who was one of those to use such things. Generosity all around, everyone happy, I’m no longer obligated with the mini.

It now sits after a move four years ago involving it sitting outside wrapped up in a tarp for a winter. It no longer runs as the radiator is packed with rust mud. The situation after finding everything wrong is this: It is a 1978 car, with an early 80's drivetrain from an Austin Metro (same thing, really).



Parts cannon engaged.
After this, the only original things left since the body itself is also getting replaced, will be the interior, steering rack, and front subframe. That is it.

I’m about to get everything organized with master lists made of all parts to build complete subframes, suspension, and brakes (including front disc brake upgrades to Cooper-S spec) plus full wiring harnesses. This will be a big single order from Mini spares over in England as that will guarantee not only an overall big discount vs. the American parts sources but also a quicker shipment since it’s worth a lot of money to them right away. Once here I can build or rebuild the subframes and be able to just plug them into the new shell making body deliveries/shipping so much easier.

So that is the story and the plan. Today I removed the SU HS4 carb.

It needs a rebuild on it’s own as the choke sticks and the butterfly shaft are getting a bit wobbly.

That is the start. I am under no illusions over how fast things get done on TV vs. Me. But the good news is that a Mini is fairly plug-and-play. Hopefully, by summer's end, I'll have mine done and ready to drive in Tahiti Blue. I am well supplied with 10mm sockets.

Something very close to this is the goal:

Just no hood stripes. Everyone does hood stripes.

For the last twenty-nine years I’ve regularly flown airplanes since I was eighteen. The overall goal was to get paid to do it so all the training to obtain certificates and endorsements and ratings was for that purpose. Within that flight time there were moments for just going flying and enjoying it; however, that time also went toward the overall goal:

Haulin’ ass, Gettin’ paid.

I’ve tried to finish up the tail wheel (conventional gear) sign off but each time either schedule or money got in the way. I had to actually pay taxes! Couldn’t afford to rent a plane. But now, eh, I can do it.

So I go and study a manual, learn the speeds and weights again and get checked out in the local rental plane. A safest plane ever made and a stable plane for training. A boring as hell Cessna 172. But it does have a bigger than normal motor which is great for the 5,000 foot airport altitude.

I realized I haven’t been totally alone in a plane since....my cargo days? Yes. Since then I have had someone with me as captain or first-officer or instructor for the last 12,000 hours. But yesterday, nope! Just me! And it felt really weird.

Then I took off just for takeoffs and landings. I still gotta get decent at that again! It’s tiny, and floats, and doesn’t have mammoth Boeing shock absorbing struts. It will bounce. Regardless, I arrive a thousand feet up, parallel to the runway and feel all normal again - relaxed even. Normality restored.

It was like being home by yourself. If I desired I could hum or talk to myself, whistle, sing, even belch out loud without apology! I mean, should I ever wish to do those things.

I flew an hour on my own without a desire to build time or fulfill a cross country requirement or practice a maneuver. Just me and a quiet airport and five takeoffs and landings. Only one was any good in my own book of high standards.

I was done abusing the nose wheel of this old paint chipped girl. She was solid, but not fast nor exciting. I parked and tied the ropes which I also haven’t done since 2000! But I remembered how without thought.

It was interesting. I taught for two years and I think worked fifteen students through their private license. In dash GPS units were only just a thing then and glass replacements for instruments were only for corporate planes. But now in a Cessna? Man. For some things I would prefer a sweeping hand to show RPM or oil temps.

After flying this 172, I have no idea at all how in the heck I fit or even taught in a Cessna 150.

Day one involves a procedures trainer. It used to be, basically, a poster on the wall of the panel switches and a chair.

It is now this machine. A combination of touch screens and actual replica controls, allowing to fly the thing through all usual approaches and have all kinds of failure scenarios.

Looking at what the procedures trainer has become, I like it like this. Seeing things happen is great. The cost to use the full motion sim is incredible and redoing things again and again in something like that and not this is just wasteful.

Tomorrow is the level D sim. A box built around a production cockpit, Six Electric rams and wrap around visuals. Floating above ground. Fun I suppose in as much anyone getting watched closely do their job can have fun.

So begins another day on the basement smart trainer. A pic I’ve probably shared a bunch by now…

I’ve been in really good hshape three times now. And out of shape the same. I rode my bike all over a hilly town growing up until I got my drivers license, and didn’t touch a bike again till college, for classes, not fitness.

Lived in the northeast and took up the MTB and snowboarding and humping freight. Got fit. Changed jobs, didn’t touch fitness for 10 years.

Got to Colorado. Got 40s. Got fit. Got life changes. Got unfit.

Since I’m 48 I can say to all you ‘kids’ out there. Dont get out of shape. It’s so much harder to get back in shape again. Especially if you remember what it was like in the first place. By the time you are near 50 there’s an 80% chance you have a permanent injury as well.

So here I grind away in the basement till the roads are clearer and warmer.

And I have some sort of endurance. I oddly still have a thousand watts but for 1 second and my heart will go way up after as punishment.

So here’s to 2013….2015…2019I mean 2022!

The Mini first got 7” disc brakes in 1961. The ‘S’ model got their 7.5” in 1963 and later, the 1275gt as well. They fit under 10” wheels. This is part of my 7.5" S disc conversion kit. Coffee mug for reference.

There is debate over the 7.5 vs the 8.5 brakes that fit in the 12” wheels. The overall consensus is that 8.5” brakes give a minor benefit but with penalties received from a harsher ride and unsprung weight increase from the 12” wheels. I’m excited to put all this together eventually, but I have to wait for the rest of my parts in a few weeks. Brake calipers are NOT light! Neither are the iron drums! These are WAY better than drums up front.

NASA does not determine where space begins (For them, it begins in congress). The U.S. Military will tell you their interpretation (but really, it is also in congress, oddly). Neither one of them have the clout the FAI does in telling all of us what it is. The Federation Aeronautique Internationale (Yes, they are French) is the international recording body that everyone accepts as the source for certification in all things aviation and space record-related. They have accepted the Kármán Line as where space begins so they have a place to position records. But, what is that line? How is it determined? Who is this Kármán character anyway?

Wikipedia tells us it's an attempt to define the boundary between our atmosphere and the nothingness burnt steak smelling vacuum of space itself. This line has been set at 100 kilometers altitude (or 62.5 freedom unit miles, or 330,000 american feet)

So, just what characteristics does this line present to qualify as the separation between Earth's atmosphere and Space? Simply put, there is no hard line of air and suddenly no air. It blends. and mathematically at this point, a vehicle would have to travel faster than orbital velocity to achieve enough lift to remain in level flight. That is the defining reason to call that altitude, where the Tropopause begins, Space.

There is air, yes, but it is so thin that it's overall unusable. The international space station has to periodically use some thrusters to correct it's orbit due to the ever so slight drag of the minimal atmosphere at its orbital height, but again, it is useless atmosphere above 330,000 feet. In fact, this passage, a copied and pasted piece from Wikipedia, also from the last chapter of his autobiography, explains why he chose this as the line:

"Consider, for instance, the record flight of Captain Iven Carl Kincheloe Jr. in an X-2 rocket plane. Kincheloe flew 2000 miles per hour (3,200 km/h) at 126,000 feet (38,500 m), or 24 miles up. At this altitude and speed, aerodynamic lift still carries 98 percent of the weight of the plane, and only two percent is carried by centrifugal force, or Kepler Force, as space scientists call it. But at 300,000 feet (91,440 m) or 57 miles up, this relationship is reversed because there is no longer any air to contribute lift: only centrifugal force prevails. This is certainly a physical boundary, where aerodynamics stops and astronautics begins..."

Theodore von Kármán, who died in 1963 aged 81, was quite the physicist and engineer, and made significant advances with understanding hypersonic airflows. He immigrated to America in 1930, and in 1944 along with a few others in his circle founded the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) This man was a heavy hitter that later battled cancer, won, and won the first National Medal of Science.

(1931)

So this brings up a new debate. Since the line defining space was based on a vehicle travelling with the intent of flying level and generating enough lift to do so vs. centrifugal force acting on that velocity against gravity creating orbital paths, then would a vehicle with no intention of flying level or orbiting qualify as actually transiting to space by passing that altitude?

My argument is that no, any vehicle that is not trying to maintain level flight, nor has a goal to do so, is called a projectile moving through very thin and less well-mixed portions of the atmosphere. Is a diving bell considered a submarine? is a man in a life vest floating in the ocean considered a ship or an ocean-going vessel? By my own argument, Alan Shephard's Freedom Seven would not be considered going into space. But Yuri Gagarin's flight was orbital, and therefore was a space flight. Therefore America's first space flight was with John Glenn, an orbital flight....by that petty argument anyway.

I give the Virgin Galactic team credit for doing something important. Space-X is going big right away. Virgin is going in another direction and making an experience accessible to the people. Rich people at $250,000 per ticket.

The next discussion, is about that price versus the $5,000 ticket price to ride NASA's Weightless Wonder plane, aka: The Vomit Comet, and get much much more time weightless than Virgin Galactic can give you. Without the view.

I totally baited you. Ha!

A beetle engine, showing up at the Sonoma raceway Lemmons event…

I would bet it’s gonna turn good laps. Definitely gonna make it into the wrap up video.

Well, a Tecsun S-2000 multi-band radio.

I've always been a listener. A DXer. A shortwave guy. I enjoy finding new shows or interesting music or interviews or whatever around the world. It is more important to me now today since everything is behind a firewall. The belief you can just stream whatever you want is a falsehood since I've run into the limits of that in a busy town during sports events or conventions that have swamped the cell service abndwith and local internet as well, both throttled drastically. Besides, if you want a good baseball game streamed, you gotta pay for the premium service. Why? MLB owns all streaming rights....NFL too....etc. It's all gonna be locked up behind a pay wall. But Just use a radio. Here it is.

And it worked as intended!
K550 motor pushed well. But many more of those big push long burns and the aft end will start to really cook.

Also flew the big tall rocket, 5500feet there.

But it’s a lot of rigging and prep. Any bigger builds and transportation is an issue.
Was a real nice day on the BLM lands.

@davesaddiction a FatHatch.

@Noodles Group B enduro bikes?

@AuthiCooper1300 Yes I am to fit the finned drums to the back

@facw a real OG mini has double wishbone front, trailing arm (like a 911) rear. You’ll be fine!

@facw I'm running 13" on mine. That brake fade thing is a problem this time around.....but I suppose that might be measured based on speeds reached....

@JunkleMKVII these are non-AP, meaning they’re AP but no logos.

I have no idea how I made it this far without the C. I slept next to my Covid wife for a whole week before I knew it was that, and that she got it from the kids and they got it from the little punks that dropped a mask the first time a teacher turns around. Yet, I'm fine. I dunno.

Waze has an infinitely better live congestion deal and I prefer it over Gmaps. However; Waze also sucks on taking you somewhere while you are already underway. Tell it to take you to a Subway, and if you are not really careful, the first one listed may be 200 miles away, so in that case, Gmaps worked better.

If you can get a foreclosure that isn’t all mold or even meth (a problem with foreclosures in CO) that may be an awesome deal for you; chiefly because it won’t be full of ludicrous unusuable fast fashion remodeling that looks out of date in 2 years. (Another problem in CO. Ie: glass sliding barn doors…wtf?)

Over time get it done your way a bit every weekend. A room at a time.