In Celebration of the Manual Trans FriendsAs hard as it may be to believe, not all my vehicles are musclecars. While I have been accused (perhaps rightly so) of arrested development and living my automotive life firmly entrenched in the '60s, I drive an '88 GMC Jimmy S-15 to work and back. The mini-SUV offers ample space for my kids, who seem to grow now by geometric proportions with both of them firmly in their teens.
My little Jimmy has served faithfully with only one minor hiccup when it spit a tooth off the pinion gear, requiring a complete rebuild. That wasn't all that unusual since the truck now has almost 190,000 miles on the clock. So I wasn't completely surprised one night after work when the 4.3L V-6 popped a head gasket, making the drive home look more like a test of a Stanley Steamer.
Because I count on this vehicle for dependable transportation, I decided on a GM remanufactured 4.3L motor that came with a warranty instead of rebuilding the engine myself. I got a good price from Courtesy Chevrolet in Thousand Oaks, California, and in the classic Car Craft tradition, I chose to do the swap myself. After all, I've got an engine hoist, tools, and even a modicum of skill. But I wasn't prepared for the '80s version of a tight engine compartment.
Yanking the old motor out wasn't that difficult, and after making a couple of new oil and coolant stains on the driveway, my tired old 4.3 was sitting on an engine stand right next to the new motor. Of course, this couldn't happen during the summer when it stays light until 10 p.m. and the evenings are warm. Instead, we braved the 50-degree windy weather of wintertime and bouts of rain to work on this rascal. I know, it's tough living in Southern California.
At this point, I had a whole day into yanking an engine and cleaning parts when my buddies Ed Taylor and Kris Shields came over to help me reassemble the new long-block. By the time they left, we had the exhaust and the intake on and all I had to do was drop it back in the engine bay.
The next Saturday, it was threatening rain, but I had to put the engine in outside because the hoist wouldn't clear the low ceiling in my cramped garage. After spending two hours trying to get the engine in with the exhaust manifolds on, my pal Tim Moore came over and helped wrestle the engine in place after removing the exhaust manifolds, which required yanking half of the front accessory drive for the second time. That's when it started to rain.
I've now got over three days worth of work-roughly 24 hours-into the engine swap, and it's still not running. What I've learned is that '80s and '90s cars are a bunch tighter and more complicated than my '60s musclecars. It's gratifying that the engine will probably run tonight after I get the radiator in and the hoses connected. And the good news is that my Jimmy is now ready for another 100,000 miles, complete with a 30,000-mile warranty. It's been an education working on this little V-6, including the never-ending fun of guessing whether each fastener is metric or English. I've also learned that I don't own nearly enough metric tools and that I need all kinds of new tools like the power steering pulley puller that I had to borrow from my good friend Jim Peterson.
So where's the lesson here? It's simple-I couldn't have pulled this off without my pals. Every time I got in a jam, I made a call and they either had the tool I needed or they came over and helped me clear a hurdle I couldn't have completed on my own. I'm now all fired up to get the 420ci motor back into my '65 Chevelle so we can terrorize the neighborhood with even more horsepower. And yes, I'll probably need help with that project too. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. And hopefully my buddies will call me the next time they need help. It's much more fun working on your stuff with friends around. Even if I'm the one buying lunch!-Jeff Smith