Part five of Project White Trash focuses on swapping out the antiquated Eaton HO52 rear axle out of the 1964 Chevy truck and installing a 12-bolt out of a 1979 Chevrolet Suburban. It also highlights the subtle differences between the axles in the 1960 to 1987 Chevy and GMC trucks, as well as giving some great tips on how to make a lowered truck ride much better.
Part four of Project White Trash deals with upgrading the front suspension from 8-lug to 5-lug using a donor 1979 Chevy Suburban. The modification is very inexpensive and easy to do, and is a great option for anyone building a 1960 to 1966 Chevy or GMC truck on a budget.
Part Three of Project White Trash starts out with a visual assessment of the truck’s poor condition. Alex hates rust, so he scrubs the entire truck with CLR to remove it. The truck was missing many parts, and after some intense searching, they slowly start to appear. With each part added, the truck’s appearance changes dramatically.
Episode two of Project White Trash picks up with the truck being loaded up and brought home, and serving an eviction notice to some squatters and stowaways. Naturally, the bees and Black Widow spiders that have called the truck home for years don’t give up without putting up a fight. Once they’re gone, it’s time to steam clean the truck and get rid of hundreds of pounds of dirt and grease.
Follow along as Round Six’s Alex takes us on a multi-episode journey about the saving of a derelict 1964 Chevrolet truck that was literally minutes away from being sent to the crusher. Its a fun tale wth twists, turns and rare parts. And we’re not even getting into the bees. Yet.
Just off I-80, make a right, pass the gas station, and keep driving until the road ends. As soon as the hauler’s tires leave the hot pavement and touch the sacred salt of Bonneville, it’s like a boxer entering the ring for the championship fight. All the long hours of preparation are over. Danny Thompson and his crew are ready to rumble.
The 1992 NSRA Street Rod Nationals in Louisville, Kentucky became one of the most memorable events in history, and not because of the car or spectator count. It was memorable because of a massive thunderstorm that hit the area and dumped nearly 5 inches of rain in just two hours, stranding hundreds of cars. Follow along as we talk about some of the issues that happened, the massive effort to get cars to higher ground, and the aftermath.
Over the years, some great stories have come out about the NSRA Street Rod Nationals. One of the best stories is about how it all started. The First Annual Rod & Custom Street Rod Nationals was a huge success with nearly 600 pre-1949 street rods from all over the country making the show. This weekend marks the forty-ninth NSRA Street Rod Nationals, and here’s the story of where it all began…
Have you ever owned a “normal” vehicle that had a special place in your heart? Most of the time, these vehicles are the ones that are the least valuable and the least exciting. It’s like going to the dog pound and rescuing the best dog you’ll ever own. Maybe it’s Grandpa’s old farm truck, Aunt Joan’s 4-door Valiant, or that beat-up Chevy Sprint that got you through college. Whatever it may be, these vehicles didn’t win your heart by their looks. They did it by providing you with experiences that stayed with you for the rest of your life.
When I get exiled from the living room, I either go out to the garage and tinker on the hot rods or grab something to read. On one particular night last week, the garage was too cold to paint the parts I was working on. I went back into the house to my mini-library of all of my car books and picked out one on Concept Cars. I had read this particular book many times before, but there’s one car in that book that has always intrigued the heck out of me. It’s the 1956 Chrysler Norseman.
“Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival” –Winston Churchill
After thoroughly enjoying the movies, “Dunkirk” and “Darkest Hour”, I became fascinated with exploring the mental state of the British people at the time.this got me thinking about the final stages of the war, when Hitler pulled out all the stops in his quest to start chipping away at England. Let’s look at the technical side of how the British defeated Hitler’s V-1.
On a hot day in October of 1967, a test pilot climbed out of a white NASA step van and walked toward the silver B-52 parked in front of the hangar at the NASA Flight Research Center at Edwards Air Force Base in California. He had made this walk many times before, but today was going to be different. The X-15 hanging under the right wing of the B-52 was waiting, surrounded by busy crew members doing their final pre-launch checks. Just a few hours later, they would all be tipping back beers at Club Muroc in celebration of a milestone achievement.
Each week, a popular TV show opened with the actual NASA footage of the aircraft crash that critically injures Colonel Austin. Every young fan of the show could quote the words that played out during beginning of each show. As a 10 year old kid, I would never have guessed that my paths would later cross with the guy who was actually piloting the aircraft in that famous NASA video. That’s right, I worked with the REAL Six Million Dollar Man, Bruce Peterson.
A few nights ago, I was scrolling through the menu of my Amazon Firestick and came across the classic 1983 movie, The Right Stuff. For folks who haven’t seen it, it focuses on two important landmarks in aerospace. The first is the quest to break the sound barrier and the second is the creation of the space program. The movie has a great cast, but there’s one actor that steals the show. Dennis Quaid plays the role of Gordo Cooper, one of the Mercury Seven astronauts. As the movie progresses, you quickly discover that Cooper is the funnyman of the group, and a bit of a prankster. Quaid serves up an awesome performance, and because of that, you instantly become a Gordo Cooper fan
Even at 12 yrs old, I already knew that I wasn’t going to grow up and be a stick and ball professional athlete. No way. I wanted to be a professional race car driver. I wanted to be Dan Gurney. If you would have asked me who my heroes were, I would have said, “A.J. Foyt, Mario Andretti, Don Garlits, Don Prudhomme, and Dan Gurney”. I was a gear head, but among my friends, I was a bit of an anomaly. They could quote stats consisting of their hero’s batting averages, steals, and touchdown passes. I could rattle off elapsed times, top speeds, and the names of everyone in the first three rows of last year’s Indy 500.