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    1. Home
    2. M.T. Blake
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    M.T. Blake

    @M.T. Blake

    https://www.instagram.com/_mtblake/

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    Website www.mtblake.net Location Northern California

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    Best posts made by M.T. Blake

    • Skinny tires are best tires (Bumpside Ford Content)

      Sometime last Fall, I was given my great-uncle's 1972 Ford F100 4x4 (NP435 manual and 360ci V8). He bought it brand new in Oakland, California, and used it for many years both in the Bay Area and in the Sierra Nevadas. The truck was used, like a truck, and therefore, it shows scars of its 50 years on this Earth.

      It was mostly maintained, right up until my great-uncle died in 2006. Then, this dark green and light green machine sat. It sat some more, and more until it was taken to a mechanic for a tune-up, new exhaust, and tires. And then again, it sat--this time inside a garage. I came into ownership as I was the last, best chance for this truck to see the road again.
      IMG_7522.jpg IMG_7523.jpg

      Unfortunately, those new tires--installed around a decade ago--were no longer roadworthy. One had gone flat and upon reseating the bead, it tore. There was no point in sourcing one tire for a thruple of flat-spotted tires; it was time to go back to the 70s with some bias ply, old-school patterned tires.

      Since the old bumpside, dentside, and slabside Fords have become popular, I've seen several shops install bias ply tires. Mostly you'll find them on the 'hi-boy' F250s in 7.5x16. My truck is the smaller non-hi-boy F100 (the frame is smaller and so are the axles). A set of five Power King Super Traction 7.00x15 tires were sourced, easily, on Amazon.
      IMG_7526.jpg

      These are taller, skinnier, and absolutely drip with 70s hunting truck vibes. Since my uncle never brought this truck up to date with any modern modifications, it seemed only fitting to fit period-correct tires to a truck with a gun rack, extended fuel tank with the petcock tank selector on the floor, and 70s trucker style mirrors.
      IMG_7528.jpg

      The result is absolutely stunning. If it weren't for the radiator leaking, I'd be driving this thing around town. I'm in love with this old beater.

      Before:
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      After:
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      PS: What do you peoples think of eventually painting it the original color? It was repainted in a dark green in the 80s. The original color (below) is called Sea Pine Green. The Bronco below has what looks like to be a very quality paint job as most Fords of the era have a chalky paint appearance.
      IMG_6851.JPG

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • An introduction (I broke the M3 windshield)

      Dear Community,

      Fifteen "reputation" points?! My reputation should precede me! After all, I was there, long ago! Long before this Oppo was yet a gimmer in the mods eyes, I was a contributor in the 'dark times.' A time when a Kinja-monster devastated this community--and to think it was all because of Hulk Hogan.

      Back then, I was finding my writing legs. I brought you stories of 'Ridiculous Diesels,' I showed off lame rental cars while on vacation and even showed off my waining mechanical skills (they still suck). When the coup de grâce struck this community, I climbed aboard a raft and sailed to DriveTribe. In that foreign land, I wrote about automotive news and topics that fit my fancy. It was there I grew, learned, and made new friends--I even made a little bit of cash to pay for my bar tab.

      But alas, a similar scourge that struck Kinja, has struck DT. I bet on the wrong horse. DT lost. Oppo won. With DT closing, I boarded another liferaft and sailed to this land. It feels less foreign and more familiar. Many of you I remember. Some of you have changed your names, so forgive me if we've met before. I look forward to adding my Oppo-pinion to your rants and raves and write-ups.

      AND yes, I did go take my 'reputation' frustration out on my M3 parts car. I am a man of my word.

      disclosure: before you get upset, the windshield was already cracked and the car cannot go back on the road because it has a junk title

      Before: before.jpg
      After:IMG_6991.jpg IMG_6992.jpg IMG_6993.jpg

      AND: On a serious note, it's nice to see this place flourishing. You might be getting some e46 M3 content... or some about a 71' F100 4x4... or about a 96' Ram Cummins... or about a 2006 M5... or even about a 2020 Tacoma... and many other things that could come rolling out of my head.

      Cheers,

      • M.T. Blake (www.mtblake.net / _mtblake on Insta)
      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • Read this before you buy a muscle car

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      There are a few types of cars that provoke an emotional response quite like the American muscle car. They are the automotive icons of a tumultuous era—one of the most violently American and at the same time, a dark period for those who lived through war and civil strife of the 60s. Our parents raised us to appreciate them, as some type of lost piece of their young adulthood. We’ve heard the memories about how they ‘had the only one in town’ or that it was the car they picked up mom for the ‘first date’. These are of course cliché stories we have all heard, but nonetheless, they are often true.

      I grew up without any mythical muscle car stories. I didn’t hear about those blacktop heroes racing through the night. Or the epic all-nighters getting the car ready for the weekend drags. I yearned after my friends who were told tall tales by their fathers; of the ‘68 Firebird 400—one they’d never find again—or the ’67 Satellite 440ci that could break traction into fourth gear and was nearly totaled one late night racing.

      These stories were an inspiration for me. I listened when they were told, but settled for learning about cars through video games and popular media. The stories I heard would never be mine. I could never pass down these stories—they belonged to someone else. They were stories that would belong to my friends one day; they were to be the stewards. I’d have to go make my own.
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      Stumbling upon a muscle car

      My teenage years were spent foraging for a Japanese import, not a muscle car. I wanted to be a trendy ‘tuner’ with the lowered DC2 Integra and fit in with those ‘popular’ kids. I stumbled upon a 1971 Camaro 350 that was crashed, yet salvageable, for my first project. For a mere $300 it looked exactly that you’d think it would for the price—terrible. It would soon be known as my ‘La Bamba’ car, as my uncle would coin it.

      The 1971 Camaro was previously Mulsanne Blue. This color was scraped off—“with a razor blade” per the prior owner—and it was rattle canned flat white. I remember the car passing our school bus over double yellows. It was loud; the noise however didn’t seem to adjust appropriately with the speed. So basically, it was ugly, louder than it was fast, and also, crashed. The front end, in front of the radiator, was missing. There was a distinct dent on the passenger front fender that resembled the notch a can opener makes before it cuts the lid off a can of chili. As a kid, I wondered which pickup truck had a front end like a can opener to do this amount of damage.

      “I didn’t bleed the brakes right and it lurched forward at a stop sign,” was the excuse for the crash I heard as the seller used a ball-peen hammer to mount the positive battery cable onto the battery I’d just purchased. The car came alive. The pine needles were pushed off the windshield. “Just be careful when you come to a stop sign on the way home.” Somehow, this three-hundred-dollar battle wagon—driven by a 17-year-old without supervision or common sense to even check the brake fluid—made it a few short miles home without incident.

      Fate, ultimately, brought me to sell my first Camaro as a necessary evil to advance myself in my career—an unintended consequence of climbing the social ladder. I ended up turning the $300 ‘La Bamba’ 1971 Camaro 350 into an $1800 car with around the difference in parts—no profit, no fruits of my labor other than not losing money. It somehow always ran, somehow made an 80-mile journey to college, and somehow never maimed or injured me. (Did I mention how the seats were never bolted down?) And from there, I moved away from muscle cars, I never thought life would bring me to another Camaro.

      Enter in: Camaro number two

      A half-decade and numerous cars later (almost 30 at the time of this writing), I had just sold my lifted XJ Cherokee when I began looking for the next project. I love the hunt: the exhausting search, the excitement of closing a deal, and the potential possibilities for the car—how crazy would my budget allow me to go? OEM plus? Or maybe a bit wilder?

      I had a long list of potential vehicles. The goal was to find something that would appreciate or at minimum hold its value. (As the goal should always be, I hate losing money on projects.) The list was diverse, something from all around the globe: Mercedes 190E Cosworth, Mazda RX-7 FD, Nissan 300zx TT (my two prior Z32s had been NA), Integra Type-R, Mustang SVT, and even a Toyota Supra MKIV. The possibilities ran wild in my mind.

      I began speaking to my good friend and mentor about my list. He recommended a Mercedes 500E. He mentioned something about MBZ and Porsche however, my mind stopped listening when I saw the prices for these cars. The more I searched the more I found that anything that will appreciate will already cost some serious money. (Funny how that works? Wished I’d bought a Ford GT when they were $120,000.)

      We continued to toss around ideas for me until towards the conclusion of one of our phone calls he said, “Maybe you should buy my Camaro.” I had been down this road before—looking for an import and buying a muscle car. His Camaro was no cheap ‘project.’ This was an expensive car that needed several details sorted before it was done.

      Realistically, it was an 80% complete car. The final twenty percent included, notably, the interior was untouched and terrible, and the front suspension needed an overhaul. I had some history with this particular Camaro: I assisted with dropping the gas tank and installing a new one when he first bought it. He’d considered buying my first Camaro but passed on it because he was not willing to buy a death trap. (He actually politely told me, “It needs too much work.”) Having already told him the car’s nickname was ‘La Bamba’ didn’t help change his decision either.
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      This one is much nicer—the seats were bolted down!

      His Camaro was a 1970. It was a literal ‘Grandma car’ and left in a field, somewhere in Northern California, because ‘grandma didn’t need it anymore.’ It was unregistered since 1992. An original California car too—still wearing its original blue and yellow plates. Originally painted gold, with a tan interior, and equipped with a 307ci V8, TH350 transmission, and 10-bolt rear. It surely checked all the boxes Grandma wanted—none that I did. This car was bought out of the field for approximately $1,500 with the intention of building one mean streetcar. This had been my intention with mine, but my follow-through (and funds) were much less impressive than my friend’s.

      Sadly, no pictures exist of the gold version of the 1970 Camaro. (It’s for the best, trust me, this car had fought a can opener too on its passenger rear quarter panel.) I was assured the paint job he had commissioned was near flawless. The paint took several years, as it was painted in between projects by a friend. The gold granny was turned hugger orange with black rally stripes for a mere seventeen thousand dollars.

      The price was ‘take it or leave it’ and nearly double what I wanted to spend. I thought a chance to buy a car like this might never come up again—at least from someone I trusted and could call for advice. At a minimum, I needed to check it out. After several hours of driving, I saw before me the nearly completed Camaro I always wanted. I had seen an idea in my head of a Camaro similar to this as a teenager. The parts used to create this street machine were impressive.

      I pointed to the engine and learned “Chevy didn’t make that.” The engine was, instead, made by Bill Mitchell Hardcore and was their ‘aluminum lite’ small block—aluminum being the keyword because it was entirely aluminum and sub-500lbs. Rebello Racing in Antioch, CA had been hired to make the engine more reliable because the 427ci size made it a bit more likely to toss rods. The rods were shortened and pistons changed to bring the cubes down to 412ci, but the power remained close to the same: 550 horsepower.

      Gone was the turbo 350 transmission. It now had three pedals instead of two. (Four if you include the emergency brake?) A Super T-10 transmission underneath was explained to me as being previously used in NASCAR, which sounded fancier than it was. In the rear, it had the best (arguably) rear end possible: the venerable Ford 9 inch with an LSD, Currie axles, full truss, 4.10 gears, all nicely powder coated silver.

      I agreed to buy it and we slapped on the wheels and tried to start it up. It ended up having a flat battery, and the no choke 870 cfm Holley was being a fickle B*%C#, which should have been a major foreshadowing for me. The plan wasn’t to drive it home, so I’d have to figure out why it wouldn’t start later. This pretty Camaro came home on a flatbed, unlike the ugly battlewagon I’d driven home years ago. And like its ugly twin, it began its new life living in my backyard.

      I was able to find time to do some bolt-on-type jobs, but I decided it would be best to take this car to a professional shop to finish it. (My ego now tells me I must explain I was deeply entrenched in a career, marriage, two toddlers, and hands that didn’t cooperate with the dexterity they used to.) I contacted a local hot rod builder to tackle the fit and finish and get this mean car tuned to drive reliably. It was a difficult decision to have someone else finish my car. The shop I knew was reputable, and I knew they’d do an excellent job but was I selling out?
      After several months and many thousands of dollars, it was done. The interior was complete, the front suspension was aligned, and the engine was far more reliable. The car required a smaller carburetor with a choke to run without stalling or being impossible to cold start. I’d gotten it running with the smaller carburetor however, a friend had determined it ran like doo-doo because I’d stabbed the distributor in incorrectly.
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      Pretty car but bat-SH% crazy*

      Ownership of this car was not without its fair share of hiccups. A wooden ladder fell into the passenger door, which cost fifteen hundred dollars to fix due to the excellent paintwork. And a drive belt EXPLODED into the underside of the hood, which cost a couple of thousand to fix but also allowed me to fit a cowl hood to fix a clearance issue. The power steering decided it didn’t like the twenty-first century or seeing a new ceiling (hood). The new power steering unit from Detroit Speed allowed me to remove some unneeded blood from my left hand during installation—a decent scar to this day. My ego was more cut when, like an idiot, I didn’t completely evacuate the old fluid and learned what ‘cavitating fluid’ meant when the reservoir cap blew off.

      The drivability of the car suffered from the fact the engine was more for racing than cruising. All it wanted to do was go as fast as it could to redline at 6500 RPM. It did not want to pull away from stop signs at slow speeds, idle at less than one-thousand, and any three-point turn became a six for fear of the torque and clutch causing more body damage.

      I spent more money on this car than any other car I’ve owned—except for those I’ve bought new. It was stressful to drive. I feared further physical and mechanical damage. All the money spend at body shops in such a short time was frustrating, to say the least. The thought of stalling it and not being able to restart it became anxiety-inducing after all the time spent tuning and paying others to tune the engine. The negative associations with the car became larger than the positives.

      I tried to fix the things that I thought would make me happy to own it again. An EFI kit was several thousand dollars, but I was explained there was only a 50/50 chance it would alleviate the idle and restart concerns. An LS motor swap would be better, however far more costly. I was already very upside down in this build. I couldn’t swallow spending more money.

      I decided the best thing to do was to sell. It was sold for a large loss – the biggest to date. I don’t regret owning the Camaro. It was a car that looked like a sexual tyrannosaur and ran like a raped ape when it decided to cooperate. People honked, waved, flashed headlights, and constantly asked questions about it. Even a homeless guy tried to get me to rev up the engine at a stop sign. I mean how could I not fulfill his request, being that he was holding a cardboard sign that said, “Not for alcohol.” I should hold up a sign next time I try to convince my wife to let me buy a project car. She’d see right through me too: “Not for a muscle car.”

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • Driving a 1972 Ford F100 is proof our ancestors were tougher than us

      IMG_6481.jpg
      Fifty years ago this year, my 1972 Ford F100 rolled out of a dealership showroom in Oakland, California. It was “Seapine Green” (read: guacamole green) and equipped with an equally appropriate to the era vinyl green interior. It was ordered as a Custom trim, which means the lowest you could get. It was barebones a half-century ago and today, it’s like driving an ox cart full of firewood compared to the space shuttles we use for commuting. That doesn’t mean it’s all bad and no fun! Let me elaborate.

      IMG_6837.jpg
      Unlike the trucks today, symbols of what you ‘could’ do, old trucks actually worked for a living. Believe it or not, people bought trucks as a workforce multiplier. They didn’t know anything about suspension lifts or stereo systems. None of that mattered. It was all about durability. The body was made from melted shovels and iron ore carts. Safety consisted of a lap belt. And the only soft touch item in the interior was a one-inch hard foam pad covering the metal dash. The people who worked these trucks were tougher than you and I.

      IMG_6832.jpg
      Particularly desirable was four-wheel drive. This generation commonly cut their teeth in WW2 with a Jeep. They had the luxury of all four wheels putting down power as they conquered the hedgerows of France and the forests of Belgium. It took them from the shores of Normandy, all the way to Berchtesgaden. When these heroes came home, they wanted a 4×4. Alas, they’d end up waiting more or less twenty years until it started to become common.

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      By 1972, owning a 4×4 was still a luxury item. Plenty of people worked 2wd trucks harder than any of us could imagine today. These salts-of-the-earth didn’t NEED four-wheel drive, but it sure helped. This truck was ordered with 4×4 to combat the one territory where their supremacy is unmatched: anywhere it snows and gets icy. A foot-long straight stick accesses this superpower. The knob reads “2wd – 4wd”. Shift, lock in the hubs, and go. All the ponies are fed through a single-speed Dana 20 transfer case—a leaky one at that. If you need low range, you’ve got a low 1st gear (aka granny low) to provide the low and slow torque for the more technical terrain.

      IMG_6491.jpg
      That reminds me: this truck is slow. How slow do you ask? Slow enough for me to notice the world in a different way while I accelerate towards the speed limit. Your eyes wander as this truck gains speed. It’s a pace of life we should all experience. No wonder everyone knew each other when we all had horses and carriages, the speeds were slow enough to have a conversation with a pedestrian.

      IMG_8516.jpg
      But let’s pretend you wanted to gain some speed at a rate that didn’t turn every neighbor into a forced gossip session. The first gear is too low–only good for crawling. Second gear is actually first, so start there. Setting off, the 360 cubic inch V8 makes a throaty grumble; it’s not happy, but few are after five decades of life. The RPM is unknown, there is no tach. Deciding to change gear is like tuning a Stradivarius violin that has been underwater, you just know when you know and say to yourself, “That sounds about right.” Shifting to third is accomplished once your arm has extended into the stratosphere—it’s there, but where? With an industrial click, chomp, and crunch is audible when you do find it. Fourth comes at around forty-five miles per hour, which is a bit too soon, and was still too soon even when highways were mandated at 55 MPH.

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      Don’t even think about using reverse either, that gear is found in another galaxy. You need to consult Neil deGrass Tyson on that journey so you don’t get sucked into a black hole. And if you’re still wondering how comically bad this truck is to drive, I’ll raise the stakes and tell you I nearly crashed it on the first outing. It wasn’t for the brakes, which are power, it was because of the steering, which is not. The steering box was so sloppy and wayward that every corner felt like I was in a boat, cresting a wave sideways and into oncoming traffic. After a butt-puckering two mile out and back, I added a couple of turns to the steering box so this would never happen again. There are far fewer cross lane excursions, but then again, the manual steering has turned me into a modern-day Popeye.

      The brakes broke soon after this truck got home. I actually drove it down the street, not aware the rear brakes weren’t working. I just thought to myself, “Man these drum brakes sure do suck.” Drum brakes can be found on all four corners, the last year Ford ever did it. I could change them but I won’t be working this truck as God intended and since they work, I’ll use them! The booster is factory (somehow) yet the world still wasn’t ready for FM radio. AM is all you get in this truck. Which would bother me if the radio worked. The gauges mostly joined the radio in the afterlife–except the speedo and half of the fuel gauge.

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      If you’re still with me, let’s recap. This truck has antiquated brakes, and steering that requires superhuman strength, the shifter could be a prop in Star Trek, and the soundtrack you hear while driving is ‘Slow Death of 50-Year-Old Bearings’ and ‘Deaf People Might Require a Tach” on repeat. Not to mention every neighbor can walk alongside as you try to achieve the speed limit–they’re all up in your business now. And that’s what’s so fun: it’s terrible.

      Driving this truck teleports you to a time when everyone appreciated their surroundings and didn’t travel five times into town a day for pointless errands. You’re forced to appreciate the scenery because you can’t speed through it. You’re forced to pay attention, forced to listen, forced to move, shift, and USE the truck. It’s engaging. It activates the part of your brain that reminds you of your own fragility–you’re merely a piece of meat in a threshing machine if a crash happens. And I entertain all of you to go resurrect some old hunk of junk, for better or worse. It’s terrible, but much of history has been, and we all could use a better understanding of what our forefathers endured to build this place we call home.

      – M. T. Blake (www.mtblake.net / IG _mtblake)

      posted in Best of Oppo
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • The most terrifying car on the road is a Dodge Charger

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      On a recent trip to Phoenix, Arizona, I had an epiphany about the rental car I’d been given. I’ve been in some terrifying cars over the years, mostly basket cases with dubious repairs and shoddy nameplates, but this 2022 Dodge Charger was by far the most terrifying. Not for me, but for everyone around me. Let me explain.

      IMG_9177.jpg
      This was no special Charger. It was a base model. Stripped out. No frills. Everything was powered, with no crank windows, but that is as far as the word “power” could be used to differentiate it from a Hellcat. A terribly stock and well-whipped and abused 3.6L Pentastar V-6 could be heard under the hood and out back. White paint with some sort of perforated bottom tier leather inside rounded out the “trim”. The Bluetooth worked, it stayed between the ditches, and the stereo still cranked, but for some reason ‘Lil John and the Eastside Boys’ kept playing. It was a solid rental with an ungodly 30-something thousand miles on it—it felt like every bit of 90 thousand being repeatedly goosed to the moon by every ham-fisted renter.

      IMG_9178.jpg
      So as a rental, it was good. Not “good”, but good enough for being so bad. And that’s when I started to think about how terrifying this car was for everyone else on the road. I realized this after nearly merging into another lane and colliding with a minivan full of vacationers—a solid blind spot on the b-pillar and a pillbox-style beltline was to blame, not me, I’m infallible. The minivan didn’t honk. It was strange. I thought, “That was blatantly my fault and I’m not hearing a beep or getting the finger?”

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      And that’s when it hit me, the other driver was utterly confused about what to do. Was I a cop in an undercover car or was I a tattooed and doped-up criminal? If you think about it, Chargers aren’t driven by anyone else but these two camps at opposite ends of the spectrum. Granted, yes there are a rental variety of Chargers, but who buys a Charger? Especially a stripped-out, base Charger? They’re either in pursuit or being pursued while the driver is three or four times the legal limit and holding a Glock out the window.

      IMG_9166.jpg
      No one was going to mess with me in this car: I could cut anyone off; speed without conviction; turn signal not required, ever. Maybe even litter or honk at those attempting to jaywalk? No one would know if I was in a hurry to do the man’s business or if I was a ‘neighborhood pharmacist’ just late for my next deal. You try not to see it next time you’re behind a base Charger in traffic and they trespass against your first-world ideals. Or if you live dangerously, honk and see what happens.

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      Cheers,
      M. T. Blake (www.mtblake.net / IG @_mtblake)

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • I need a Priest, Witch Doctor, and a Voodoo Master

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      My motor court is now chock-full of so much bad juju that I doubt a priest, witch doctor, and a voodoo master can be rid of the bad spirits. I’ll be needing all the four-leaf clovers and horseshoes hung above door entries to try and bring some luck back into the property. The black cats and ravens have surrounded this area since—and they don’t look tame. I’ve thrown all the salt in the house over my shoulder. I sacrificed a chicken to the ancient gods in an attempt to gain their favor. Nothing it seems will wash away what I have done.
      IMG_8457.jpg
      Here parked are two of the most feared vehicles on the road: 2006 BMW M5 (E60) and 2006 Ford F250 Super Duty with the 6.0L Turbo Diesel. The former is equipped with a 5.0L V10 capable of 8,250rpm and the latter has an oil-burning V8 with a redline where the BMW sits for launch control. They both carry a love-it or hate-it following. Mentioning their names in certain circles is like suddenly becoming radioactive—run away from that man!
      IMG_8455.jpg
      You’d be right to think, ‘These are expensive cars to own,’ and be somewhat correct. They are man-eating tigers and you’ve got their tail in hand. At a moment’s notice, they might turn around and bite your head clean off. The BMW is notorious for spinning rod bearings with catastrophic results—paperweight S85 anyone? The Ford has an oil-fired injection system more prone to clogging than a geriatric smoker with four generations of heart disease. They’re finicky cars, often owned by people who can scarcely pay for rent, let alone an engine replacement.
      IMG_8446.jpg
      But fear not! All things are possible in the eyes of our automotive Gods and a little bit of knowledge. This M5 has had its oil changed religiously every year, the oil tested for signs of rod-bearing material—all prior to and after a séance where 21 candles are lit in a circle around it and “Du Hast” is played at ear bleeding volume (is there a better German song?). The Ford on the other hand has had a bypass oil filter added and a coolant filter (read: twice the oil filtering capacity and one-hundred percent more coolant filtering) to prevent the oil cooler from leaking oil into coolant or vice versa.
      IMG_8450.jpg
      And due to a little bit of knowledge and plenty of luck, both have been reasonably reliable. Sure, the M5 might have a CEL on right now and the Ford is always on a knife's edge of a full nervous breakdown, but that’s the price you pay to get speed and torque for bargain basement prices. Find another car that does 200 MPH for less than twenty-grand. Do you want the same truck but a Duramax or Cummins? You’re going to spend around ten grand more for a truck with the same configuration and age.
      IMG_8459.jpg
      They’re both bargains if you are willing to take the risks. Buy the best examples of these vehicles you can afford. Consider the sellers almost as much as you consider the vehicle. Keep a vial of Mermaid tears in your pocket just in case. And never, ever get rid of the phone number of your local exorcist—you might just need them after all.

      posted in Best of Oppo car problems juju automotive masochism ford f250 bmw m5
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • My Secret Senna Delivered Big Time

      My Secret Senna gift finally arrived and it was well worth the wait. My Santa @ramblinrover hand-painted and destroyed some diecast cars to look just like my current and former cars! The details are uncanny. Even the curse words are just like the actual car's spray-painted profanity. (I did notice he missed the scratched-in %UNT though. LOL!)

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      1972 Ford F100 - Actual Vs Diecast

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      2004 BMW M3

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      1971 Chevy Camaro - Which was very nice and didn't require messing up a diecast to match! 😄

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      Special Thanks to my Secret Senna! You really came through. These will be displayed on my desk from now on! The F100 diecast might make appearances at cars and coffee on the dash too!

      Fortunately, but unfortunately for pictures, the Camaro left long ago, and the M3 left last week.

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      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • A near disaster with a junk BMW M3

      For several months, I have had a junk 2004 BMW M3 (e46) sitting in my driveway. Good for nothing but a few parts and the drivetrain, I'd been working with a buyer to take custody of the car and strip the engine and transmission at his leisure. After two months of scheduling conflicts, the buyer finally arrived with a flatbed to take the BMW off for surgery. IMG_7545.jpg

      In order to drag the M3 onto the buyer's flatbed trailer, I used the tow hook out from the trunk of my M5. Although from a different M car, the hook works the same--it threads into a hole in the front bumper and provides a secure point to winch and pull from.
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      With the tow hook in place, the buyer began to winch the M3 onto their trailer. Months of seeing the hooptie in my driveway were coming to a close. All that was required was for the buyer to break the ignition lock (no key) to allow the steering wheel to unlock, and hook up a jump pack to allow the SMG transmission to shift to neutral. I supplied the tow hook; they supplied the trailer with winch.
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      All of this went off without a hitch... that was until the car was on the trailer. Now, my driveway has a slight slope. It gradually goes downhill before leveling out just before my shop and garage. IF (foreshadowing) any vehicle were to run away, you'd have ample time to stop it due to the gentle grade. That's IF it weren't already on a trailer with steep ramps.
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      Just as it reached its proper point far forward, weight properly distributed, ready to be tied down, the worst happened: the tow hook broke off the front bumper. Suddenly, dormant e46 M3 became mobile again, sans driver. As it began to roll backward, I tried to grab the passenger door and a-pillar. The buyer grabbed the front grill, cutting three fingers in the process. The buyer's son smartly had rolled down the driver's window.
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      As the M3 gained speed off the trailer, the son began running beside the car. He became the only chance to stop the car. I watched as it accelerated backward towards my shop--which was finished last year at a cost I don't want to publically admit for fear of construction cost shaming. I yelled, "E-BRAKE!!!" The son used a maneuver akin to Spider-Man and jumped through the driver's window. The M3 came to a skidding stop ten feet from the corner of my shop (first picture is the landing spot). It didn't hit the maple tree. It did hit four trash cans and hilariously toss them around the yard. The victims of the day ended up being three fingers, a blister for me, and everyone's faith in BMW engineering.
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      If you're thinking my M5's borrowed tow hook was the problem, you'd be wrong. The female threaded end on the M3's bumper SHEARED OFF THE BUMPER. We hypothesized it was probably due to the composite bumper it's affixed to sitting in the sun for many years and also getting pulled on previously by tow trucks.

      The next winching location was far more sturdy: the front suspension. The e-brake was also immediately pulled once it was home on the trailer. For something going so wrong, it couldn't have gone better.

      PS: And yes, I had a whiskey to settle my nerves that night.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • Oppo Cribs Garage Edition: A Tour of MT Blake's

      You said you wanted it, so I delivered it! This is my 1700sq foot, three-bay garage. Each bay is a single insulated door with a LifeMasters opener and Wi-Fi control. The floor was epoxy-coated grey with blue, white, grey, and black paint chips which makes it very easy to locate dropped nuts and bolts (it doesn't).

      As you look at the building, the farthest bay to the left I call Bay #1, the middle is #2, and the far right is #3. Bay #1 contains a single bay, while 2 and 3 are not divided. I typically use bay 1 as it is closest to the house and the man door to enter/exit.

      BAY 1:
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      For some reason, I also decided to put my beer fridge and retro gaming consoles in this bay. It is exposed to the elements the most, but it didn't seem to fit on the other side of the garage as well as it does here.

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      I've got all my car washing items near the man door as the hose bib is on the other side of this wall. The goofy 70s sign used to hang at my great aunt's cabin. The CO2 cylinders and home brew beer keg are for my kegerator I haven't bothered to get running yet.

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      This was always my primary workbench. It contains an old Bose stereo, my scanner, numerous woodworking tools, and some tree-falling gear. I was really disappointed I couldn't find a 2020 Tacoma Hot Wheels in black. And the Bowie Knives were recently sent back and resharpened for super cheap (highly recommend their service).

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      The Sony Trinitron CRT is 37" big and weighs about 200 lbs. It is an absolute monster and I hate moving it. The Sony flat screen was the first expensive TV I ever bought--it's 3D, remember when 3D was cool?! As for the video games, I'm primarily collecting SNES, N64, and PS1-2, but there is a PS3 hiding in there too.

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      See any favorites in there? I was a big nerd (and still am) and played a lot of RPGs as a kid and racing games. The rarest or most expensive game in the lot is likely Mega Man X2. Nothing is too expensive as I do enjoy playing more than collecting. Side note too, if anyone needs a copy of Final Fantasy X2's strategy guide, email me and I'll send you my double.

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      THE BOG
      Isn't that what our friends across the pond call it? I've got a small washing station and all my certificates and MBA hung near the bathroom for the sake of comedy. The world map inside the water closet is from 1981 and shows the USSR still.

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      The remainder of the room contains my large metal stand-up cabinet. I believe it used to be an electrical cabinet. The silver workbench is actually a hotel bench from the 60s or 70s and seems to collect all the hand tools, plenty of doubles and triples of most stuff... And the beer fridge, I know you guys wanted me to show off my drinks! It's always five o'clock here!

      BAY 2 AND 3:
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      The second bay contains my 2006 BMW M5 with 61,000 miles on it. On the wall are some movie posters that I both liked and thought were automotive-related (Ferris Bueller, Tokyo Drift, Senna, Casino Royale, and Gone in 60 Seconds). The middle of the room contains an antique armchair and my second Z32's red passenger seat fitted to a computer chair base. In the corner is my Craftsman tool chest. The red stand-up cabinets I really think 'bring the room together' for those of you who abide.

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      It's always been a bit of organized chaos in here. The black racks contain misc. cords, hoses, rope, car covers, utility blankets, etc. The middle silver bench is new to me and is some art project turned bench. It's a couple of industrial pallet rack shelves welded together with angle iron. The Jaguar posters on the wall are of a buddy's E-Type race car he sold several years ago and now races at Goodwood.

      The boombox on the far black rack has been with me since I was 12 years old and used to be hooked up to my PlayStation 2 as a kid, providing surround sound. The Kubota utility box goes on my tractor like a little UTV bed and is made by BigToolRacks. No garage is complete without a Miller High Life utility can filled with clean rags.

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      On top of the red metal cabinets, I've got another booze collection. Most of the whiskey decanters are full of Ezra Brooks and likely to be pure poison if drank today. I found the cigar boxes at two now-deceased family members' houses. While the Subaru key was my mother's and belonged to the Loyale we had as a little kid. The racing helmet last shows Rose Cup 2012 stickers. (I need to go racing again...)

      Most of my car-related chemicals, oils, paint, and what-not are found in these red cabinets. I find it's easiest to store all the commonly used stuff here being it's in the middle of the room. I have a detailing cabinet too closest to the garage doors that I didn't picture that has all my cleaning products.

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      Lastly, we come to the toolbox. I hate my toolbox. I really want to get a much larger rolling unit and a better toolset, but I can't justify it right now. And for those of you who are Makita fans, I'm one of you! Makita or nothing!

      That's about it for my three-bay garage. Aside from having my Tacoma and Cummins blocking the view for you, you've now seen it all. Well, almost all of it, I do have the shop, which isn't done inside yet...
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      Who's up next for OPPO's Cribs Garage Edition?!!

      RANDOMS:
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      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • My tractor obsession continues... new Kubota L3902

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      (the new Kubota L3902)

      I have a problem: I am obsessed with tractors. It's not even a quiet obsession. Between the Kubota branded clothing and YouTube videos describing PTO issues and which brands actually make their own tractors, it's in your face and unapologetic.

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      (pictured above in 2019, my first Kubota B2650)

      Four years ago, I bought my first tractor, a Kubota B2650. It was rock solid and dependable. I put about 150 hours on it before I realized it just wasn't quite enough grunt for what I wanted. Between moving a terrible e46 M3 around and building a loft without having enough bucket reach, I decided it was time to ditch the little guy and get a big mama.

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      (it will be carrying a lot of rocks in the near future)

      I originally wanted an L-series but they were just out of my price range. I'd convinced myself the B2650 (now called the LX2610) would be fine. And it was for the vast majority of activities. The 60" brush hog might have been a bit big for it and the backhoe dragged the tractor around everywhere, but at a total weight of around 3,000lbs and a mere 24.5 horsepower, it was expected.

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      (the rare selfie with yours truly)

      Issues no longer with this 37.5 horse and nearly 5,000lb machine. This sucker sounds like a tractor, except for the exhaust noise now filtered through a DPF (no DEF). The former tractor had NO emissions control devices being it was under 26 horsepower (still Tier IV though). The new tractor has REGEN and even has a button to cancel the cycle if you say drive into a hay barn and don't want to turn it into an inferno.

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      (I hate, hate, hate, snow)

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      (the bucket risers)

      The backhoe from the former machine happened to be the same as the newer one, so I kept it. The BH77 backhoe used a swivel seat and now required its own throne. Over $500 in parts later, I assembled the tightest operator's seat you could believe. Pulling down on the flight controls, you smack your thigh. Sitting deep and back in the seat is required. Tiny guys don't fret, you'll fit just fine.

      (it's always fun to turn bags of parts into something useful)
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      (before and after seat install)
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      I couldn't stand the old Kubota corporate logo on it either, so I went ahead and replaced it with new decals to match the new machine--you'd never know the backhoe is four years old, except for the lack of paint on the bucket.

      And just in time too! It snowed. The last storm occurred just after I sold my old tractor. I was left to shovel by hand; I hated every moment of it. The new machine came with a replaceable cutting edge (read: big ass sharp edge on the bucket, perfect for random driveway destruction). I went ahead and got edge protectors from R2 Manufacturing. Basically, it's about 1/2" of plate steel that bolts to the front and prevents the bucket from digging into the driveway.

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      You're probably wondering, 'But what does this larger machine cost compared to the old one? Did you get everything you wanted now?' Well, the old machine sold for $22,000. The new L3902 was $40,000 delivered to my house. A significant cost increase due to the perpetual Rona issues didn't help either (isn't this always the excuse?!). And yes, this new machine is everything I need. More power. More weight. Less complaining. No more jokes from friends about owning a 'sissy tractor'. Life is just better, every day you can get on a tractor.

      Cheers,
      M.T. Blake
      www.mtblake.net

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake

    Latest posts made by M.T. Blake

    • RE: Oh Carvana

      @HammerheadFistpunch You'll have to go to collector car insurance for that. I did it for my M5 because it doesn't get many miles. I need to call about my new Range Rover today for regular insurance...

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Oh Carvana

      @theturbomrt That works until you want to run it through someone else's insurance.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Oh Carvana

      @HammerheadFistpunch Your insurance would do the same thing. A friend had his insurance try and give him $5000 for a totalled MR2 Turbo he bought on BaT for $17k. An attorney got involved and they finally gave him a check for $23k.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Remember to check the work light Z owners

      @415s30 Cars never should have gone away from genius things like that. An under hood-mounted light only does so much... or now, nothing.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Remember to check the work light Z owners

      @415s30 That thing is on a reel or long cord, right? I believe the crappy '76 we have had that same light.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Spent my day off polishing my tool

      OHHHH a grinder... I was way off...

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Finding an L322 Supercharged from 07-09 is annoying

      @facw Reasonable and Range Rover don’t belong in the same sentence

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Finding an L322 Supercharged from 07-09 is annoying

      @dogisbadob Looking more and more appealing everyday.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Finding an L322 Supercharged from 07-09 is annoying

      @beefchips It was comical. Loud pressure release and grinding of the compressor. Turned the car off and on and it went away. Poor thing must have seized to stop making noise.

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake
    • RE: Finding an L322 Supercharged from 07-09 is annoying

      @MUSASHI66 I happen to be an automotive masochist, after all!!!!

      posted in Oppositelock
      M.T. Blake
      M.T. Blake