My Quest for a Corvair

My Quest for a Corvair

by Bob Gill

June, 2005

My Corvair History:

Yes, I own a 1965 Corvair. It’s the two door job known as a “Monza sport coupe.” It’s sort of a Rat Rod restoration project. Actually it’s what I would have had if I could have afforded a decent Corvair back in the late sixties when I had my 1960 sport coupe. It’s not just a hobby, it’s an obsession.

The 1960 was a good deal circa 1969 when I bought it or at least I thought so. It was the eighth car I’d owned. I was eighteen when I bought it and how in the world I’d owned so many cars in such a short period of time totally escapes me now. My first car was a 1960 Plymouth Valiant that had a really peppy 170 cubic inch slant six, a three speed manual transmission and it really moved along well in spite of its engine size. I only drove it for about six months as I had my eyes on my mother’s 1956 Oldsmobile. Since I thought that large cubic inches was everything that I wanted in a car at the time, it was an opportune time to get my hands on it. Mom had just bought a shiny new 1967 Chevelle which was very sharp but had a six and a two speed automatic transmission. It just didn’t go fast.

A Thirst for Acceleration:

I got the Olds! It had a four barrel carb on top of a 325 cubic inch Rocket V8, a four speed Hydromatic automatic transmission and more chrome on it than almost any other car made at the time. I was truly enamored of it. The only drawback to it was it had four doors but that didn’t really matter as it had no door posts. Roll down all four windows and it was wide open spaces. Well, there was one other drawback. It seems that if you revved the engine to about 4000 RPM in neutral, then dropped the transmission into gear to get off the line fast (you know what I mean?) one of the two rear axles would snap, you’d have enough forward motion to get across the intersection and pull up to a curb. Being 16 years old just one experience like that wasn’t enough so shortly after having it repaired I tried it again and, of course, broke the other axle. There were numerous other problems that occurred and it wasn’t long before I was out of the Olds, which by the way, supposedly dropped the transmission shortly after it was sold.

A Thirst for Junk:

Enter my Renault Dauphine era. My dad thought it would be a good idea if I had a car without a lot of power but the Renault was perhaps the worst car, or should I say cars that I’d ever owned. I guess that comment almost demands further explanation but I really don’t wish to dwell on that. I’ll leave it to say that it took two extras to keep one running and even that wasn’t any guarantee that I’d be able to get to work. Maybe it had something to do with my heavy foot and a desire to get to sixty miles an hour in less than 2 minutes.

Thank heavens for tax returns! I was able to abandon the Renaults and oddly enough I can’t recall what happened to them. Maybe my dad just had them towed off for scrap. I used my tax return money to buy a decrepit 1960 Ford Falcon. Sure it needed some work but I could fix it up. What car couldn’t I fix up? Another long story made short. I later sold it with a rod knock just after buying my first Corvair.

A Thirst for Enlightenment:

The Corvair was a sort of a junker. It was another tax return car that was purchased for $85.00. It had one floor board, on the passenger side just behind the bench seat that was rusted out, one bad piston that was burnt through the top and a deep dent right behind the passenger door. The engine was repaired immediately. The floor pan was fixed by pop riveting an aluminum plate to the good stuff and the dent was filled, inexpertly, with Bondo brand body filler. It needed a paint job that it never received but the best part of that car was that after I repaired it, IT DIDN’T BREAK! Now what the heck was up with that? I drove that car like all the cars I’d ever owned, and broken. But the Corvair was different. I’d burn rubber on turns wildly swinging the rear end out of its normal track and bring the back end in right where it belonged. It took all the punishment I gave it and came back for more. While I’m sure the neighbors didn’t appreciate it, I was having a great time.. Did anything else matter?

The sixty coupe had the 80 horse engine, a three speed manual transmission and didn’t lose a drop of oil. Eventually, through the help of a brother in law and a parts car which, as best as I can remember, was a 1962 four door with an automatic, I was able to build another engine that totaled 95 HP. I can’t say that I actually remember the increase in horsepower even being noticeable but that didn’t’ matter, I had the extra 15 HP. I really did love the car but there were other things going on at the time and I decided that I wanted a van.

What could be more natural in the late sixties to change to a Corvair van? Well, nothing. So I bought a Corvan It was Corvair 95 truck. It was engineless but that didn’t matter. I took my recently rebuilt engine from the coupe, installed it in the van and I had flower power. There was nothing cooler at the time than a van with a mattress in the back. But I was over eighteen at the time, no longer under my parent’s thumbs and I realized I could own a motorcycle even though they protested. I sold the van and bought a Honda.

The Long Corvair Abyss:

That was the end of my Corvair ownership for a very long time and to tell the truth, I hardly ever thought of them. That was until a few years ago when I was shopping and found a 1963 1/18 scale die cast Corvair coupe. It was fun looking over the model, reminiscing about the one I’d owned in my youth and the relative ease of working on them. Mostly I’d remembered its durability. A couple of years later, again while shopping I ran into another die cast model, this time of a 1969 convertible. That is the point at which owning a Corvair became an obsession. Although I did try to repress it the obsession only got stronger. I started watching eBay auctions of Corvairs. I saw them come and I saw them go. Many of them were sold locally. One was a ramp side that looked like it wouldn’t have been a whole lot of trouble to get going. It wasn’t long before I made the decision that I would again own a Corvair.

Sure, I’ve always wanted a classic car to restore. I briefly owned a 50’s Studebaker pickup that I had intended on rebuilding but it had to be sold as I was living in an apartment and had a child on the way. Prior to that I’d owned a 1953 Chevy half panel truck that due to a lack of money and a rod knock that it developed never became more than an unfinished project. Twenty five years later I am now in the “empty nest.” I figured that it was now or never. I didn’t want to find myself on my death bed reflecting on the time that I almost bought my “Corvair classic.” There was only one obstacle. My wife Gail, but that too is another story.

My Selection:

I suppose that I really wouldn’t have minded owning an early model since there’s an intrinsic beauty in the style that’s all its own but I loved the curves of the dash and the contours on the exterior of the late models. The design of the late model coupes are like no other, possibly a composition of the late Chevy Malibu’s in a more compact form but that’s a matter of opinion. I looked at a number of other cars and asked myself, Do I have to have a Corvair? I looked at many muscle cars of the sixties and seventies eras and imagined myself driving them. I also love the form of the late thirty’s and forty’s cars too but it all came back to the Corvair so I solidified my choice. It was going to be a late model. I wanted it to have a four speed as I’d never owned a Corvair that wasn’t a three speed. It had to have air conditioning because I refuse to drive a car in Texas summers without it. It had to be a coupe and it had to be a Monza. In addition, it had to be in the best shape I could afford because I didn’t want to fall in the trap of buying a car that would be worth a whole lot less than it cost after the restoration. (I’m not all that sure I avoided that trap.)

Even when buying a new car it’s impossible to get exactly what you want in options. There are always those packages you’re offered when buying a new car where you have to pay for things you don’t want so you can get the things that you do want, I guess. I suppose that it’s just like going to an electronic store to buy a fuse or a light bulb. You can’t buy just one. They’ve got to sell you two at least. It must be that it’s no longer profitable to sell just one of anything. But I regress.

The Auction:

I was prepared to pay the price. I found a late convertible in eBay that was for sale in Dallas and it was a bit pricey. The ad claimed it was a recent restoration with new paint, carpet, upholstery and in good running condition. While that sounded good, when I first went to look at it, I was immediately disappointed. It looked too low to the ground as if it had sagging springs all around. Looking inside the new carpet did look nice but a quick check of the floor pans from underneath revealed badly rusting floor pans. If you could have stood on the floor in front of the driver’s seat you’d have fallen, right through to the pavement along with the new carpet. There was also lots of rust in the wheel wells, around the windshield and numerous other places. The so called new paint was blistered in several places. I didn’t even get to hear the engine run.

The next “opportunity” was found in Denton, TX. An early model, cheaply priced and no wonder, it was a rust bucket. The engine wouldn’t turn by hand and the rest of it was a rusty mess. I admit, I wasn’t expecting much and I wasn’t disappointed.

A couple of weeks later I’m excited when another Corvair, a 1965, the late model, showed up on eBay and it was in Dallas too, or so I was led to believe. It was listed by a friend (who lives in Dallas) of the owner (who lives in Clarksville, TX.) about 100 miles away. At least it was almost everything I’d decided that I wanted. It had air conditioning though it wasn’t working. It had a good, mostly rust free body and it had an engine that would turn by hand. Mostly it had a lot of potential. I talked to the owner for an hour and a half about the condition of the car and I was convinced that this was the Corvair that I wanted. I made my bid for it and won the auction. That was on a Sunday and it was in my garage on Monday.

On my initial inspection it turned out that the windshield, installed new at one time was cracked on the top passenger side by the installer. The upholstery had lost all of its suppleness and I could tell it wasn’t going to be long before it started ripping at the seams. There were other problems and I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me.

The Resurection:

I wondered where I should start? I opted for a more serious evaluation. I’m not one to make lists and this was no exception. I discovered that the throttle plates in the carbs were stuck closed. I made some quick mental notes and took a run to my local Auto Zone. Note: I’d noticed Auto Zone commercials at the time in which they showed a couple of good looking classics leaving the parking lot. I knew in my heart that this had to be the place to go. I selected a battery. Not too cheap and not too expensive. I had no idea how long it was going to take to get this pup running. While I had the counter guy’s attention I asked for an oil filter. The counter guy started going through the steps in his computer. What make? I grumbled “Corvair.” What year? What do you mean what year? They all take the same oil filter! I mumbled, “1965.” The counter guy say’s in a heavy Middle Eastern accent, “We’ll have to order it and oh, that’s one hundred and thirteen dollars and ninety five cents.” I looked at him blankly and asked, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s going to spend $113.95 on an oil filter?” He replied rather sheepishly, “no.”

So I bought nothing there. I got in my truck and went straight to NAPA auto parts and got everything I needed at that moment. That included a battery, spark plugs, oil filter, distributor cap, points, oil, carb rebuild kits and a fan belt. I decided to rebuild the carbs first. No big problem. Just take one apart, dip it, put it back together with the new parts using the other as a guide and there you go! Oddly enough, the 1965 carbs didn’t look exactly as I remembered them when I rebuilt 1963 carbs on the Corvair that I had previously. Worse yet, the floats were corroded and leaked.

Over the years I’ve learned to solder pretty decently. Soldering floats shouldn’t be any problem at all. Here’s another long story made short. Don’t bother trying to solder your own floats. I had the winning bid on a pair of carbs on eBay and whoo Hoo! I got one good float. With another set of carbs won on eBay I ended up with two more carbs that had good floats. Note: I’m now hoarding floats because someday they’re going to be worth their weight in gold. It's just to bad they don't weigh much.

With rebuilt carbs installed, fuel pump disassembled, repaired and reassembled, spark plugs installed, (with the aid of a helicoil in the number 4 spark plug hole, and five gallons of fuel in the tank, I’m ready to start it up. But, there’s no gas getting to the carbs. I decided to check the rubber fuel hoses and found them collapsed. I replaced the hoses and noted that there was no gas exiting the bottom of the tank. I siphoned the gas in the tank and removed the float assembly and noticed that in the tank bottom was two inches of a reddish, powdery substance in the bottom. Sheesh! I didn’t want to have to remove the tank but there’s no way to clean it installed so, out it came It seemed that there was about a half tank of gas left in it when the car was left to sit. It was rusted out with no reasonable possibility of repair. Well, eBay to the rescue again. I obtained a good used tank and a sending unit with it. While everything was in a state of disassembly I decided it was probably a good idea to clean out the gas lines too.

While waiting for the tank to arrive I also went through the brake system rebuilding the wheel cylinders and adding a dual master cylinder for an extra bit of safety. At least then if any of the brake hoses were to burst I’d still have some brakes without having to make a mad grab at the parking brake and more likely running into something.

A couple of weeks later the tank is installed, five gallons of gas, and with a can of starter fluid close at hand I crank the engine. Keep in mind that at this time I still have no idea why the car was parked and left sitting for about 25 years. I imagined that the first thing I’d hear was the low thud of a knocking main bearing. At best I was going to hear a rod knock. I pour a little gar in each carb with a shot of starter fluid for an extra kick.

This is the part where I probably should mention that all this work has been done during the last five weeks. I’ve been taking my time because this is a long term project I’m in no hurry or so I kept telling myself. The suspense has been killing me. All my neighbors think I’m nuts for buying the Corvair in the first place. My sister in law, who lives next door to me, well, still considers me all the way crazy. Even my friends who I’ve told about my purchase think I’m nuts. Maybe I should have bought that Corvette. NO! I’m the kind of guy that always goes with the underdog…. At this point I crank the engine.

It’s Alive! It’s Alive!

Success! Well sort of. The engine starts and dies. I give it another shot of gas and ether in the carbs. The engine starts and dies. Another shot of gas and ether and the engine roars to life and keeps running. A couple of dry lifters are knocking away; smoke is everywhere, filling the garage and the neighborhood. It’s really noisy. A neighbor comments, “Sounds like it needs a tune up.” Gee, ya think? But there are no really bad sounds so it’s like music to me. I let it run for about a half hour or so, tinkering with the carb adjustments and such, allowing it to warm up and hoping the lifters will pump up and quiet down some. At some point all but one lifter is quiet and I stopped the engine to give both of us a rest. Another hour later, I restart the engine which runs for a bit and the last lifter pumps up. I’m elated! The same neighbors states that it still sounds like it’s in need of a tune up.

I waited until dark for an illegal run through the neighborhood. I also honored my wife with an offering to ride with me on its maiden run. I don’t know if she felt truly honored by my gesture but she did go along. I guess I was the one that was truly honored. Anyway, I’m still elated. It’s running decently. It’s shifting just like it should and all in all; I’m surprised it hasn’t left us stranded. Maybe these cars are really as tough as the other Corvair fanatics have been telling me.

And here’s the short of it:

After many tuning sessions, carburetor balances and such I’ve made several long trips with the car. I totally trust it to go anywhere I need to go with it and to get me back home. At this writing I’ve owned the car about nine months. I’ve stored the thirteen inch stock wheels and added some old, but nice, aluminum seventies slotted mags. It’s been painted, a bit prematurely perhaps but it’s looking good. Black paint in the cove area and black headlight bezels and front grille give it its own personality. The air conditioning is working with only a charge of R-12 and the interior is being changed from its original mist blue to black, not just because I like black but mostly because it’s so much easier to match. I’ve installed a new headliner and new seat covers. Before too long I’ll be installing new black carpet even though the original is still serviceable. My Vair is still a work in progress and improvements get done as money becomes available. The recent purchase of a parts car netted me a four speed manual transmission that I hope to get installed after the rebuilding of the engine that I obtained with it. As it is right now, it runs and runs quite decently even though it suffers from a bad case of blow by.

As for my purchase and the initial fear of all the work associated with it? What can I say, I have no regrets, I love it and if I were to go back in time faced with the decision to go through it all again, I wouldn’t hesitate. You might think I’m obsessed with it. I’ll admit that readily, I am obsessed. My real fear is what will I do when it’s finished? Maybe I’ll sell my water pumping pickup and get a Rampside.

I had to add just one final note. I offer a huge thank you to my wife Gail for supporting my endeavor and tolerating my obsession.

My Corvair can be viewed on the NTCA website at the following address:

http://www.northtexascorvair.org/homelinks/membercar.htm

An update (Oct '07): I still haven't installed new carpet yet, I completed a top end rebuild in 2006, the powerglide automatic transmission is still in place and for the heck of it, I installed a Corvair gasoline heater to keep my feet warm on the cold days. There's a lot more that I'll do when I feel like it but for now it's still a reliable driver with over 90,000 miles, about 6,000 miles since the rebuild.