Archive for the 'vantruck' Category

 

Operation ENDURING BROWN: Second Battle of Bunkbed Hill; The Open Windows Policy of VANTRUCK

Aug 06, 2017 in vantruck

So I mentioned at the end of the first bed drop operation that I was definitely going to do a second one now that I had seen what went into it. As it turns out, drilling holes in a truck frame is not hard, and I had to do it once already, so why not again? I dunno what I thought they were made of – maybe all of those “Over 9000% more rigid” truck ads had subliminally convinced me that all trucks are made of AR500.

Part of the issue with the first set of bed mounts was the off-center mounting holes between the bed and frame being drilled into the same bracket. This meant that no matter what, there was flexing between the bed (made of stamped sheet metal) and the plates forming the brackets, amplified by the width of the brackets and the flexibility of the rubber bushings. The bed was on the whole very wobbly, and not something I would load with more than a few compact hundred pounds.

The new plan was to make brackets with in-line holes so there was no center distance induced flex, and take the opportunity to move the bed forward the inch or so I needed.

From the first install, I knew what heights the new brackets needed to be. This is the new rear bracket, a slat of 0.5″ thick x 3″ steel bar with a hole counterbored big enough to take a 1/2″ hex-head bolt and washer.  I bought the barstock already cut to 42″ and finished the holes on the newly commissioned Bridgett.

The front bracket was a little more involved since it had to be an inch taller. I chose to use some 3/16″ wall 3″ x 1.5″ rectangular steel tubing. One side has a large hole bored to take the washer and bolt head, and the other just has a 3/4″ clearance hole. To mount the bed, I planned on welding 1/2″ coupling nuts to the inside.

I drilled one side to 3/4″ diameter and the other to 5/8″ diameter, then machined down the coupling nut into a flanged shape so it dropped in, and welded around the edges.

…which, to my chagrin, didn’t quite work out due to the width of the bushings.

 

So I machined those nuts flat and flush-welded over the seam instead!

Here’s the front bracket after…. painting. Yep, let’s take a part which nobody will ever see again after it’s installed, and paint it Miku Blue! I mean, to be fair, the real reason was for rust prevention, and I was going to leave it black after primer, but…

We bust out #OSHACrane once more! Removing the bed is almost too easy now.

Ah, we meet again after a few weeks. You can think of this operation as moving the current set of frame mounting holes to where the bed mounting holes are, but forward about 1 more inch.

This was the bushing that was completely roasted in the Great Carburetor Meltdown of 2017. It was basically turned back into the bituminous goop it was made from – anything that touched it took a chunk of it off. Luckily, I have spares from the old bed.

Commencing with new hole drilling! The white line marks the centerline of the frame member, which is not where the holes need to be – they’re about 3/8″ further out on both sides.

 

New brackets installed in place. Notice now the rear set has a 5-degree (or so) tilt to it? That’s because the correct location was technically over where the suspension hump begins. There was no avoiding this one, so I had to perform an act of mechanical terrorism instead and take advantage of the immense amount of compliance SLOP afforded by the rubber bushings.

This is a 5 degree angled biscuit piece that I whipped up and 3D printed from Onyx. I unbolt the bracket slightly, shove this under its mating interface with the bushing, and tighten it back down. The rear lip forces it to be straight with respect to the bracket. There, instant -5 degree compensation… Actually it was slightly less due to the compression of the rubber, but it was straight enough that I could get the bolt started in the threaded hole easily, and it was straight once tightened.

The height of the biscuit was an estimate of what was needed to make the bed flat with respect to the side running boards. I discovered that the front bracket might have lined up the front edge, but the bed as a whole was then tilting very very gently to the back, almost indiscernable except to obsessives like me.

This is now how the front edge of the bed lines up. I’m much happier with it, and the rigidity of the whole thing has been greatly increased. Beyond the 4 mounting holes, though, at the very back of the bed, it’s still a bit flexible. However, now that it’s in final position, I can also make the rearmost bracket, most likely from one of the existing used slats machined down.

There’s a slight optical illusion which makes the bed still look like it tilts backwards, and that’s because the endcap of the van cab tilts slightly forward – its longer at the bottom than at the top. Whatever, at least I don’t have panel gaps like this guy any more.

Broken Windows? Open Windows? y not both

Observant readers might notice that every picture of this thing since  when I got it back has had the driver’s side window rolled halfway down. That’s because the day after correcting the carburetor mishap, the power window motor died.

I have heard of vehicular whack-a-mole before, but this is the first time I have gotten to experience it.

So since then, it’s mostly been hanging out with a trash bag covering the open portion of the window. And you know what? No matter what level of trashy it is a symbol of, I refuse to have an actual trash bag window. After the bed replacement and EFI swap, it had been running without mishap, and so I decided it was time to start making problems for myself fixing up the little leftover things beyond basic drivability. You know, the same old story.

I started by removing all the interior fixtures, but couldn’t find any fasteners for the door panel. That’s because in classic 80s American car company fashion, it’s all held in by plastic snap rivets. I had to very traumatically pry at the panel little by little to free the plastic caterpillar things, one of which died from old age while in my care. Just one, whew.

….and after my emotional trauma from all that, the facepalming begins.

I often telll friends that 1980s middle-aged successful chain-smoking family-man Charles would not have bought one of these new, with the knowledge that I have of it now. The build quality all around, to be honest, is atrocious. This panel is made of regular 1/4″ plywood with the leather/fuzzy upholstery stapled to it around the edges. The pocket on the inside is also a staple job. Maybe this looked okay when it was new? I dunno. The bottom edge had significant water damage and the wood was coming apart, so I knew I had to put that back together before reinstallation.

I almost want to find some junkyard doors from a regular unadorned 3rd-generation Econoline, with its square miles of plain plastic, than deal with this. Or, perhaps, just laser-cut or CNC-rout an ABS plastic flat panel in the correct shape.

Granted, I probably wouldn’t have torn down a brand new vehicle at the time to assess build quality, but I like to think that at least some of the shenanigans such as the aftermarket wiring installs and the abomination that was the 5th-wheel hitch plate could have been seen with a lookover.

And then behind that, we have…. fucking wax paper? This is called the “vapor barrier” in the official Ford strategy guide. I call it “not ok :(”

It’s clearly been reused a few times, since its own rubber adhesive outline was long gone. Someone’s been in here with duct tape – judging by the condition of the adhesive behind the tape once I peeled it off, it’s “not less than 5 but not greater than 10″ years old.

I peel back the wax paper a little and yes, indeed, someone’s been here before. I also am not sure how you were supposed to get to this power window motor without dismantling the whole door, but I see someone’s executed a community-supported hack.

Undo the three 8mm head head bolts and the window motor falls out like it came out of a vending machine!

 

So here we have it. 1985 date code and all! I suspect if it was precisely extracted in the past 10 years, it was a junkyard unit that itself is original to the date of manufacture (not a reman unit) as it did not have any sign of a rebuilders’ label or something indicating it has been opened.

Well then, I shall be the first! Yep, that’s a really well used motor. The first thing that fell out at me was a remaining chunk of brush, so I take it to mean that it just finally ran out of brushes worth using. Self-generating brushless motors are truly the future! It looks like it would just need some cleaning and new brushes.

Yeah, umm, back up. I noticed an interesting pattern on the commutator, and when I gently clean it off I found that it had been worn into a polygon. What? Okay, I’m not going to ask….

The challenging part was finding motor brushes I could swap in. My life has become so brushless that I had a hard time finding motors with replaceable brushes to scrap them out of, and trips to 2 local hardware stores revealed that they no longer had the little bin of motor brushes (because nobody rebuilds tools any more :’(((((((( ) I knew from years before when I didn’t need them!

Finally, I took apart the air horn compressor motor that I pulled out of the engine bay and… well, they’re wrongly sized in one dimension, but that’s what a belt sander is for!

 

I decided that as funny as a 11-sided commutator was, it was going to be bad for the new brushes, so I turned down the copper bars using Taki-chan and cleaned between the valleys with a knife blade afterwards. A quick gentle polish with some Scotch-brite and the motor was ready for service again.

The new motor back end after cleaning and re-arming the trimmed brushes. I put everything back together and ran the motor for 5 minutes on 6 volts to get all the new brushes and commutator comfortable with each other.

I then poured epoxy all into the door panel’s rotten bottom edge and clamped it together for a few hours. Sorry, no fancy interior customization here. I just want it to stay together until it gets replaced with some LED-backed smoked acrylic or something.

Back in we go! I carefully reapplied the lunch bag and taped more constently around the edges. The plastic caterpiller rivets were in general reused – I would have had to take off the fuzzy interior to replace them which is patently absurd so this door panel will be a little wiggly from here on.

 

And a pleasant test mission to Lake Chuggawuggadingdong, making 9.2 miles per gallon all the way there and back.

(๑◕︵◕๑)

Well, the mission wasn’t to see the attention-getting placename of a town that seems desperate for tourism dollars all around, but to visit a nearby salvage yard to pick up some interesting EV components with MITERS. It’s another hybrid battery, this time out of a Hyundai Sonata – a relatively tiny 1.5kWh, 72S lithium polymer unit from a car literally nobody cares about, so it was super cheap at $260. It could split up into several Power Racing Series batteries, much like what I did with the Ford Fusion battery for Chibi-Mikuvan.

I’m not doing anything with it, but pay attention to MITERS members’ websites and you might see something neat later I suppose.

Operation ENDURING BROWN: Modification of the FiTech Fuel Command Center

Jul 19, 2017 in vantruck

Hello kids, and welcome to another edition of Big Chuck’s Automotive Blog! By some amount of popular request and my documentation obession, this is another minipost on a single subject: modifying your nuclear reactor to not go Full Three-Mile Island, so you can get your Full Three-Mile Gallons instead. Basically, this is just presenting the information you’d get from a user community but in long-form with photos and having it be search-engine friendly.

To recap, the FiTech Fuel Chernobyl Command Center has a nasty habit of overheating due to its design: A high-pressure fuel pump located in a returnless sump that constantly circulates the same few quarts of gasoline supplied to it by (ideally) your car’s original low pressure mechanical or electric tank pump. It’s supposed to be an intermediary in the fuel-injection conversion and should in theory allow you to keep a completely unmodified fuel system from the carbureted engine.

So essentially, unless you’re running wide open throttle on a racetrack, it will sit there slowly heating up its little puddle of gasoline to OVER 200 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT often vapor-locking itself or damaging the pump from overheating. Let me bring that back: There is a half gallon or so of boiling, pressurized gasoline with a small electric motor angrily buzzing away inside it, next to your engine. Good thing they call that a firewall in front of you, huh? For me and my love of silly vans with the engine as a permanent front-seat passenger, that means the thing is basically next to my balls. This is patently unacceptable.

The community has come up with a solution which involves modifying the FCC housing to accept a conventional fuel-return line that runs back to the fuel tank, so the LP lift pump will just keep cycling fuel through the housing continuously. Here’s how to do it!

Alright! So here is your reactor core vessel. The whole unit is made of four threaded components, like pipe plugs – the top endcap with the wobbly needles and ports, the upper threaded portion (which I’ll call the bowl), the lower threaded portion (which I’ll call the cup), and the cup’s own lower threaded end cap.

The top cap is the one that needs to be removed. Both the top and bottom caps have spanner wrench slots. However, I couldn’t conjure up a spanner wrench that fit around the thing, so I resorted to bashing it into rotating with a brass dowel and mallet.

It took a lot of effort – this thing has an O-ring seal which is tighter than the FiTech tech pages let on, and I deformed some of the spanner wrench slots. After about 2 rotations with hitting the slots, it was loose enough to turn by hand.

Note that the cup and bowl WILL start unthreading from each other if you only grip it like I did above, by the cup. Ideally you’d use a strap wrench or something to grip the bowl.

Alright! The top cap has been removed and oh god it’s literally a bucket of gasoline help me

 

Here is a closeup of the structure inside the top cap. About now is when I realized that this thing was very overengineered. Notice how I didn’t say it was a good design – just that it’s overengineered. Trust me, I have a MIT degree in overengineering.

The aim in the common community mod is to remove the black float and the carburetor-style needle valve it actuates. So basically this float dictates the fuel level inside the container, just like a giant carburetor bowl – fuel too high, needle valve closes and does not admit fuel being fed in. This procedure can be done by removing the two Phillips-head screws holding the float on.

Some people then leave the needle valve in since it technically can supply the needed fuel flow anyway, but some choose to unscrew the needle valve and seal the hole with a plug. You have to remove one of the gauges to get at this needle valve, though, so I elected to not do so.

 

That’s because I found that you could bypass the two parts completely by taking out this screw to the side.

Doing this made me realize the top cap was a single piece machined manifold-like piece, and the fuel galleries were made by cross-drilling holes until they hit each other. I mentally counted over 2 dozen machining operations and at least 3 setups that had to be done on this piece (less if they instead have a really big and pricy 4-axis CNC lathe with live tooling…) plus the raw material cost of starting with a 8″ billet, plus I swear the bowl piece is machined from solid because of the internal flanges, O-ring grooves, and seeming lack of signs of a spinning operation.

What I’m saying is, some intern had a lot of fun muscle-flexing Manufacturing 101 with this thing. Nobody, however, saw 200+F PRESSURIZED GASOLINE BUCKET coming.

I removed the float anyway to reduce the number of parts inside, but elected to not remove the needle valve since I did not have a plug of the same thread size handy. It’s now bypassed completely.

The next step is to remove the outlet filter on the ‘VENT’ port. This is a very restrictive filter since it’s supposed to not let fuel through, only v a p o r s .

In older FCC designs, this was a little ball check valve. Either way, it has to go!

Okay, I couldn’t find a good way to remove that roll pin since it’s blocked from the side I would need to drive it outwards. So I did what any sensible engineer would do – drill it to hell. Some stirring with a 1/8″ drill bit and the sintered bronze particles all fell out!

All closed up! I greased the o-ring on the way back in so it rotated a lot more smoothly. The final tighten was by hand, and that’s all you really need.

What this turns the FCC into is just a tiny auxiliary fuel tank with a high pressure pump in it. The ‘VENT’ nozzle now becomes a fuel return line. Low pressure fuel enters as normal and what isn’t used will leave back to the fuel tank via ‘VENT’.

I took the opportunity to reroute some of the messier hose positions and made them exit all in one direction. Since I already had VENT hooked up to the former return line anyway, I didn’t have to do anything else.

Notice the vacuum line now attached to the formerly plugged fuel pressure regulator module in the center. This is a more recent service advisory by FiTech to stabilize fuel pressure – I read about it before the conversion, but ran out of vacuum hose so didn’t perform it right away. Connecting this FPR to the manifold vacuum caused the fuel output pressure to stabilize at about 45 PSI – previously, it rapidly vibrated between 40 and 50 PSI. The in-tank pumps now happily push a constant stable 3-4 psi around at the low pressure gauge.

Vantruck has been around nearly 300 miles since this modification was made and I haven’t poked anything under the hood a single time. I don’t have a IR thermometer reading of the reactor temperature on a hot day, but I’ll say that it’s actually cooler than the rest of the engine bay now. If you’re in Cambridge or Everett, you might hear it brodozing its way around from 2 blocks away because STRAIGHT PIPES.

I actually need to remedy that – I’ve already been compliment-warned by one police officer… Hey, nice truck! I know you don’t have a muffler on that thing, so don’t drive too fast around here or we might hear it….

Next challenge: Get more than 10 smiles per gallon. <:(

Operation ENDURING BROWN: To Kill a Unicorn; The FITech EFI Installation Horror Picture Show

Jun 29, 2017 in vantruck

And we’re back! This is a special edition of Big Chuck’s Auto Body Center, and it’s one which is super special to me because it represents the largest systemic rework and installation I’ve ever done on a vehicle: Vantruck is now no longer carbureted; instead, it has a FITech EFI system. No more massaging unicorns to try and get the thing to run right!

Being a car-thing, the process was rife with what I call “tribal knowledge” – the “go on this forum and ask these people / read this thread” kind of Do You Know a Muffin Man documentation which I absolutely dread. As someone who isn’t a car guy by history, I once again found myself in the position of potentially saving hours of testing and debugging which would have been more intuitive to someone who’s worked on automotive systems extensively, or if the manual & official documentation had been more complete.

So that’s why I’m going to write this down in excruiciating detail, because I know I’ll forget half the reasons why I did something in a few months, and plus now so can you. I really hope to clear up some of the mysticism around the product by putting it in long form with my own analytics. To skip the opening movie and go directly to the installation and tuning, click here. And my summary of the install here.

The story begins with this:

Hey, if you ever wondered how a muffler works, there it is! They’re deceptively simple inside. While I’ve seen the diagrams and videos explaining how they work, that still isn’t the same as seeing…. your own…. up close.

That is the result of an epic afterfire. What led up to it was about 10 minutes or so of completely normal operation as I headed to help a friend move apartments (“Yes! Finally a reason to justify the ownership of a 21ft long dually truck in Boston!”). There after, it suddenly started running extremely rich, very quickly. I’d put a link to explain those terms here, but the top hundred Google results or so are all “How do I tell if my engine is running lean or rich?” followed by dozens of car bro comments on debugging carburetors.

The bottom line is loss of power, black smoke out of the exhaust and all, followed by the onset of puffs and pings as pockets of unburnt fuel ignited in the exhaust system. And then it exploded.

Did I mention I was in rush-hour traffic? So besides farting black smoke on people, I just grenaded the muffler surrounded on all 4 sides by probably grimacing tech/biomed workers wondering which flyover state I drove in from. And then it caught on fire.

You see, the muffler is positioned sort of directly inside of the frame rails, and when it opened up, it did so towards the frame rails. Fresh hot exhaust gases and probably gasoline droplets began cooking the frame. Right next to the opening, as it turns out, was the forward bed mount rail with its rubber bushings. Which proceeded to catch on fire and billow more smoke.

So now I’m in the middle of rush hour and smoke is emanating from under the truck. I pull the most illegal possible U-turn over the median (because who is going to stop me?) and rolled into a shopping center. At this point I didn’t know where the smoke was coming from, but I was paranoid about the forward fuel tank being involved, so I ran into a restaurant and demanded a fire extinguisher because there was now a burning vehicle in their parking lot. They happily obliged, and I puffed the bushing out.

I had Vantruck towed back (by the same dude as before, no less) later that night after deciding it was not going to make it back to base with the muffler still pointing at the same spot.

And then I straight piped it. Hey, inspections aren’t for another few months! You can see the crystalline residue from the compressed water extinguisher’s output, which smelled like vinegar and had the appearance of green coolant, and a little bit of charred wiring that leads to the running board lights. Behind the wire and barely visible are the cooked rubber mounts.

Luckily, my extra thicc steel slats that mount the bed appear to have kept the fire underneath for the most part, and there was no significant damage to the bed that I could see. The event all went down after the muffler bomb in about a minute, so I’m fairly sure the frame isn’t heat-damaged, just the rubber mount and my pride.

I resolved that day to never deal with carburetors again. I didn’t even bother looking at it or taking anything apart, because the next time I opened the hood, it was getting removed completely. I don’t care how whisperable they are, I’ll take an inferior performing system for consistency over something which requires constant jiggling and knob turning. What if that randomly decides to happen in the middle of Detroit?

Yeah, yeah, I’m a Mechanical Engineer and all, shush. I’m pretty convinced that emissions laws ruined carburetors, turning them from simple mechanical devices to complex vacuum-this valve-that nonsense…. and Vantruck’s carburetor belongs squarely in the latter category. When the magic gas-dispensing unicorns get that bad, they’re going to get euthanized.

Which brings us to….

the install

YEEEEAAAHHH. One of the first things I did when I got back to the shop was start scouring eBay and Craigslist for nearby EFI rigs. I had been investigating this as a stopgap option between caburetion and my electric install (The dream is still alive). The Holley Sniper, Fitech GoEFI, and MSD Atomic TBI were all on my list, and appeared to share similar functions.

I found a single listing in New Hampshire for the Fitech full kit, including the miniature nuclear reactor on the left, a high-pressure fuel pump and sump, all for 1K, making the Fuel Command Center basically free. Sure, why not!

I was on the fence before, but this event pushed me over the edge. Right now I can’t have a half-taken-apart project vehicle, so when that day comes, I’ll sell the whole powertrain to make that cost back if need be. The explosion went down on Friday, and I was on the road Monday to pick up the unit. Because fuck everything, especially careburetors.

Here we go! I picked out the following Saturday to get as much of it installed as I could. First order of business was mounting the nuclear reactor. Seriously, what else does it look like!? From doing research after I bought it, this device seems to have overheating issues, so mounting it was a tradeoff. I didn’t want to stick it under the body, since I’d then have to run new high-pressure rated fuel hosing up to the engine bay (almost all of the existing connections and hoses were designed originally for low pressure pumps). And under the hood was convenient for those reasons, but next to the engine seemed to be a no-no.

I found a spot on the drivers’ side just behind the headlight. There is a round cutout with direct grille access for moving air. I’d just have to relocate one of the horns, which I did by mounting it to the same stud as its brother.

 

The reactor mounting bracket is secured by a single overtightened 5/16″ bolt sandwich with lockwashers and regular washers of incrementing sizes.  What, did you expect me to engineer a decent mount when I had access to unbridled mechanical terrorism instead?

 

The FCC installed and initially plumbed. This reactor thing is supposd to be a ‘returnless’ system, so it should only have one low-pressure input fuel line. It has a vent hose connection which is supposed to go back to the fuel tank. I just connected it to the Return port of the magic fuel tank switching valve anyway, since obviously it would need to vent to the same tank it’s drawing from.

Don’t talk to me or my son ever again.

This removal was fairly simple. I undid the throttle cable (which was a ball joint… I’d never seen this before, since Mikuvan’s throttle cable ends in a pinch lock like a bike), unfastened the fuel line, vapor collector lines, and random vacuum lines, and then loosened the 4 nuts retaining the whole carb.

The problem was that I now had a mess of vacuum lines. A lot of research let me to find that the majority of these control emissions-related functions – some are heat-triggered, some are manifold vacuum triggered, and so on. Well, good thing Vantruck is emissions exempt in Massachusetts, because I’m never going to hook these back up. I capped every vacuum line I could find that wasn’t the distributor; other vacuum functions like the transmission modulator and brake booster had their own direct-to-manifold fittings.

The next job was to transfer over the throttle lever. I did this figuring that nobody made the ball joint that was on the thing, and since it was riveted in, I’d have to salvage the entire linkage (which is ALSO riveted/stamped in). Come on, people.  I used an angle grinder to carefully shave the stamped connection and pulled the lever off.

Later that day, I found the ball joint on the shelf at Pep Boys. Ah well…

Here is the lever installed and both of the throttle flaps connected. The secondary linkage connection point (to the right of the big nut) is at a bad spot to be effective. This arrangement would really only let the secondary open about 45 degrees. I may play with it later, but I’d rather run on 1 barrel and a pony keg forever than keep trying to get all four barrels in on the action.

And back on we go. The little ball chain is the connection point for the cruise control vacuum actuator (Crap, I should go check if that still works…)

Continuing the “plug the vacuum line” game after hooking up the new fuel hose, which I synthesized from the fittings provided in the kit and some sections of 5/16″ EFI-rated fuel hose from Pep Boys. The High pressure side was now plumbed.

Next, I dove under to route the oxygen sensor. The kit has a wideband O2 sensor with a provided clamp-on bung, so installation was simple with a step drill. That exhaust pipe looks rusty, but it’s all surface and still has reasonable wall thickness all-around. I installed this as close to the Y-point of the exhaust manifold downpipes as I could stuff the drill, since the transmission was still behind me.

I’m told that the clamp mount is less secure and more prone to leaking than welding it. I’ll check on this thing periodically, but I’m not busting out a welder. Remember, if I play my cards right, it will be Tesla powered in a year or two and all of this internal combustion hogwash is leaving. Keep the dream alive.

The vacuum line plugging game continues at the back. Most of these are now vapor collection lines. Since all of that has been rendered obsolete by fuel injection, I also went ahead and removed all of the control valves which formerly led to the carburetor too. The only connections to the vapor system I’m aware of now is the fuel tank. Maybe if this affects operation, I’ll find which line went to the purge control system and hook them back up. Until then, rot in hell, stupid vacuum bullshit.

The thick cable coming out of the TBI unit is the O2 sensor cable, which was just long enough to reach the spot I ended up drilling at, with something like less than an inch of slack. Yay!

Another vacuum-powered accessory to go was an air intake diverter plate. It opens and closes based on temperature – when the engine is cold, it pulls from near the exhaust manifold which heats up quickly, helping warm the intake air. When the engine warms up, it intakes from the front of the grille. Well guess who’s forever intaking from the front of the grill now!?

Vacuum powered this, vacuum powered that. Seems like the better these trucks ran, the more they sucked.

This yellow thing was connected to a coolant bung next to the water pump – it seems to be the thermal switch which lets the temperature-dependent emissions ratchets and clanks access the manifold vacuum. It went away so I could locate the TBI unit’s water temperature sensor there instead, and all of its connected lines were plugged. I’m sure I’ve plugged the same circuit multiple times now. I don’t care.

 

Performing final hose routing… I labeled literally everything, even if it’s supposed to be dead obvious. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from working on silly vans, it’s that nothing is obvious the way I’d like it to be, and That Doesn’t Mean It Works.

 

I wired in the fuel pump with the provided Big Red Wire and my own section of ground wire, which was tied to the frame nearby.

One random thing I found was the underhood light being directly connected to the battery positive, through a fusible link. Now hold on…. there is no way this wasn’t someone’s random hack. Why would you connect a light bulb directly, unswitched, to the battery!? I figure this must be why the underhood light socket was empty – because otherwise, you’d have a light bulb draining your battery constantly!

I tied this circuit away as I cleaned up the battery-side wiring for powering the ECU. It may…. return some day?

The next wire to be installed is the ignition sensing wire. I’m setting up the system in “easy mode” since I am not inclined to take apart the distributor to lock out the centrifugal and vacuum advance system (good explanations starting about 60% down the page). Since the engine ran great (when it wasn’t shitting itself), I figured all the timing components were adjusted correctly already.

I wanted electronic timing control, of course, but it seems like this was one aspect which wasn’t self-learning, and I would actually need a dynamometer to really take advantage of it to get the maximum performance possible. Hey, you know what else makes this thing haul ass? Two Tesla motors!

So at this point I had ECU power, oxygen sensor, coil sense, and fuel pump. The last thing to do now is the ignition key swich. There wasn’t a good exposed point to do this cleanly at, so I spliced it in line with the associated ignition module wire. That yellow push-on connector, also fitted to my other wire splices, won’t be there forever. Just for the first run, since it’s not very vibration proof.

And it’s ALIVE! Well, partially. This is really where the fun began, and the whole activity began to remind me of tuning a custom 3D printer: You have to perform a multi-variate gradient descent kind of optimization of several variables at once, from a baseline configuration.Everything is changeable, so you can actually arrive at the same result from different directions with different end settings. And there is not a single correct answer. Kind of like building silly go-karts!

This process really took me longer than the install itself (which the advertised 3-5 hours, by the way, is utter bullshit but I’ll get to that!) and occurred over a few days of road testing and annoying the neighbors in the parking lot.

the problems

First, I had trouble getting it started at all. It would crank for 15-20 seconds at a time, and then very begrudgingly begin to idle. I couldn’t tell if it wasn’t getting enough fuel (too lean) or too much (too rich, engine being flooded). Being that my initial few pulls were at night, I couldn’t see if the exhaust was emitting dark smoke (too much fuel). Some times, when it did start and run, it would then idle well.

Other times, the screen would go blank and the ECU would reset, cutting the ignition and shutting the engine off.

When it did successfully start, run, and warm up (about 1/3rd of the time), I noticed that the Idle Air Control position, which is recommended to be between 3 and 10 by the manual, would never really rise above 0-2 no matter where I had the idle position screws adjusted to. I even accidentally backed them all the way out, causing the throttle butterflies to stick in the barrels (needing a hard shove on the throttle pedal to free them).

I deduced that the hard starting and the random cutting out was two separate problems. With the day pretty much done and any more bald eagle emitting from the now straight-pipe exhaust going to really piss off the households across the street, I decided to return the next day.

One of the things I noticed in the daylight was that the exhaust did indeed shoot out black smoke while it was desperately trying to climb up to idle speed (which itself took a few seconds). As I found out from asking around, this is a pretty classic sign of too much fuel at start causing the engine to flood out, and the gradual acceleration is the clearing of the unburnt fuel out of the cylinder. There were settings to adjust how much fuel the injectors add at start under the Prime Fuel Multiplier and Crank Fuel [temperature] labels. I decreased Prime Fuel to 0 and Crank Fuel down about 10 units each at a time, but I couldn’t really make the starting more reliable or less sooty.

However, I also found that while the engine was running was how low the battery voltage was showing compared to what it should be while the engine is running. I found that it varied significantly between about 11.5 volts to as low as 10 volts, with a variation of 0.3 or more. And it was constantly changing. The battery, meanwhile, was sitting at an expected 13.5 volts.

Uh oh. That to me was a sign of a bad ground or bad power wire. I know all the positive connections were secure (the little orange things have never let me down despite not being a long-term solution), but couldn’t figure out where the unit derived its ground. A call to FiTech support (and a 30 minute hold wait) confirmed that the unit grounds through its machined casting bottom and a bare spot above one of the mounting stud holes.

Oh, the bottom that’s touching a thick rubber gasket and the machined spot which is attached to a very rusty stud and equally rusty nut? That one? Great! I cleaned the stud with a wire brush and used a new zinc-plated nut – and the ground problem went away! I had stable 13.0v on the ECU readout and could now try to replicate my other problems.

I didn’t get a chance to fully differentially diagnose the starting issue, though, because while on the phone I discoverd that my unit’s firmware was well out of date. The new firmware included a setting to modulate the fuel pump PWM% to prevent overheating – great, I’ll upgrade immediately. Updating the firmware was basically dragging and dropping an entire operating system and folder structure onto the handheld programmer’s SD card. I see that they employ real software developers!

Obviously, it started on the first pull thereafter and settled to idle very quickly. So I’m not entirely sure if it was solved by the grounding remedy or the new firmware has more correctly set initial conditions – the Crank Fuel settings were all zeroed out compared to my original firmware. I’m also not sure if the previous owner changed them or not from the older firmware’s stock settings; the guy’s story was he ran the engine it was installed in for a very short time before deciding to move in a different direction with his entire project.

I personally lean towards “grounding issue” because another symptom I wasn’t sure was quite correct was that when I first keyed on, the injectors would fire wildly. I was told in the manual to expect a click, but what I got were several dozen if not hundreds of clicks. Some more poking in the FiTech Owners Facebook group showed me that the wild clicking is the result of noise on the coil sense line. I could buy that a bad ground would cause enough apparent voltage swing on the coil to falsely trip the logic.

Either way, with the grounding issue resolved and Vantruck starting consistently without smoking up the whole neighborhood, I returned to fiddling with the Idle Air Control setting, which still had problems moving from zero.

I was informed by the group that if the vehicle has secondary air injection (smog pumps), that this would cause issues with running because the exhaust would have fresh air injected into it, causing it to read artificially lean. Well, Vantruck has not one, but two of them!

I could buy this as a reason why the IAC motor was shutting the valve off completely. Say the air pumps make the exhaust gases read too-lean. That says to it more air than fuel is being inducted than necessary. Because the idle fuel and RPM target is something you set, it can’t just increase fuel, because it will also increase the idle RPM. It has only one variable of control: the IAC valve.

To test this theory, I just removed the air pump belts.

Aha, and the IAC instantly leaps up to the mid 20s. This actually seemed to run fine, but I decided to re-adjust the throttle linkage and the idle control screws to put it in the recommended range of 3  to 10.

One of my mistakes in fidding with the throttle linkage was trying to tune the idle control screws with both of them connected together. I really wasn’t sure what was moving what, and it took a while of either not being able to change the IAC steps, or backing one of the screws out so far it wasn’t touching the butterfly stops any more.

This was my “A Car Guy would know better” moment. I found out that you should disconnect the primary and secondary, adjust the idle control screws separately, then connect them together with the linkage set to the right length.

I started with both idle control screws cranked rather far in to ensure they were touching the stops. This caused Vantruck to want to idle at 1800 RPM, which was quite exciting. I then adjusted the secondary throttle stop out until it was just barely not sticking (closing too far) and Loctite’d the screw in place.

Then I did the same to the primary throttle using the IAC step value as a guide. I turned the screw outwards slowly until the IAC settled above zero, then out some more as it increased in value (throttle too closed, I’m gonna open more).

I finally got it to settle between 5-8. At the behest of some group members, I changed the Loop Up and Loop Down settings upwards to make the IAC respond faster (settling to idle from revving high quicker) as it was taking a few seconds to find the idle again after throttling.

After the engine could start and run reliably, I began turning down the Crank Fuel and Prime Fuel settings again to see if I could get it to use less fuel on startup. I ended up settling on -20 and -30 for the 65 degree and 170 degree (basically, summer-cold and warm restart) Crank Fuel settings, with Prime Fuel remaining at zero. Obviously, I have no way to test the 20 degrees Crank Fuel setting at the moment, but in the coming months….


After travelling to Pep Boys on its own power to pick up some air filter studs (the stock one no longer fit), I made one final linkage adjustment to connect the secondary throttle less sloppily, and closed up the system.

The story doesn’t quite end there. On a 60-mile test loop around the Route 128/I-95 corridor, I had a moment where I lost fuel feed in the middle of some afternoon traffic, and had to scramble to the rightmost lane. It seems like the FCC is still overheating, taking a few minutes to cool back down before some sort of thermal fuse/breaker resets. Either way, that was an embarrassing few minutes taking up space on I-95 during somewhat rush hour.

After it cooled off, I decided to high-tail it back to base, whereupon getting off the highway, being in regular street traffic, it died again.

Another few minutes of sitting around in a parking lot with the hood open again, and I was able to make it back to the shop (and subsequently after it cooled completely, on a local Home Depot and Taco Bell run) with zero problems. The day afterwards, I was able to run on another ~30 minute local mission without issues, but the FCC was too hot to comfortably touch afterwards. So it seems like the system’s heating time constant is between 30 and 45 minutes to failure.

There are several modifications that people make to the FCC to ensure it can cool off, which I will attend to later in the week. The FCC is a “returnless” system, which simplies installation, but seems to imply the fuel pump basking in a small puddle of rapidly heating gasoline. It also means it’s heating a sealed container of gasoline to 200-fucking-something degrees. What. The modifications involve repurposing the “vent” hose as a real fuel return line – luckily for me, I already have a return system set up, so the modifications will just need to be made and then the pump can cycle through fuel quickly.

And there we have it. Vantruck is now no longer powered by unicorns. What mythical animal should the FITech rig be? Some friends suggested a griffin, but I think I’ll stick with some sort of Pokemon.

So how satisfied am I so far?

3/5 stars, might not recommend

It’s not the functionality of the system (past the quirkiness of the FCC, which looks impressive but didn’t seem to be that well thought out). In fact, I want to love everything about it, and it seems like many people do. Maybe my love for it is just caused by my abject hatred of caburetors. But the process to get there is extremely arduous and it seems like I am far from the only one who has faced some seemingly common issues.

Here’s what I see as problems:

  • The documentation provided does not explain what the variables and settings mean in detail, only that there are some that you should change to certain ranges for most applications. It exists to a limited degree in the “Basic User Manual”, but what would be helpful is company-provided presets for certain engine ranges, or known working configs for a specific engine year range. This exists as people sharing calibration files, but it really needs to be an official thing.
  • The documentation is scattered as blog-like posts on FITech’s website and .doc files provided with the firmware drop, and a lot of additional documentation simply exists as answers to FAQ posts by users. And they apply to different firmware and hardware revisions without any indication – there’s no version control for the documentation.
  • There is practically no debugging or troubleshooting guide. I feel like the unsteady injector clicking (caused either by the ground problem or the noise on the coil sensing line) should be at the top of one. The only source of troubleshooting I used in this install was my mechanical/electronic engineer’s intuition and asking people.
  • As a result, the setup and install really relies on the “guru” or “tribal knowledge” system, or as I call it, “Do You Know a Muffin Man?” where you find someone who’s done it before and ask them about it. I tend to have a dim view of these systems if it’s a product which should have a company’s dedication behind it. If it’s some open-source hackable, I find it more tolerable, since the idea there IS that the community builds up something that’s greater than all of its members’ individual contributions.
  • Even the Basic Setup guide still assumes a lot about “car guy” knowledge. I don’t know how much you can really stray from this, since installing an entire new fuel system is kind of not a generalist task. Maybe this is just compounded by the frequency of needing to refer to a user community for guidance, and it’s on me to learn some of these hobby- or trade-specific things.

 

lul and then wut

 

The FCC’s problems are seemingly still being worked through and they may have an ‘official solution’ soon, but I think even a general informational document, like a service bulletin, that has the overheating issue spelled out would have been less frustrating. Hey, I’ll loop the damn thing into the air conditioning circuit if I have to, just tell me that I have to! I’ve had to piece together from the user groups the steps needed to modify the FCC to use a true return line.

In the mean time, I’ve at least gotten everything back to the state where it works 100% of the time, 60% of the time! Consider me a happy customer. There will probably be more setting jiggling posts coming, since you never truly finish tuning a homebuilt 3D printer.  In summary, the problems I faced and the remedies I used:

  • Poor ground. Symptom: Unstable RPM readings, unstable and too-low battery voltage readings, sporadic injector firing (many clicks) on key-on. Remedy: Be better grounded. I polished the attachment hardware, some people run a dedicated line to the battery.
  • Hard starting. Symptop:  long cranking, gradual buildup to idle while sounding like it’s running on 3 or 4 cylinders, and smoky exhaust indicating too-rich condition. Remedy: Adjusting down the Prime Fuel and Crank Fuel values. Problem might have been solved by proper grounding.
  • IAC value too low. Symptom: The IAC floored itself to 0 and stayed there. Remedy: Proper adjustment of throttle linkage to use idle stop screws, removal of SAI/smog pump drive belt.
  • IAC value too high. Symptom: The IAC ended up around 24-30. Remedy: Proper fine adjustment of the throttle linkage. Though some in the community now say that having it around 20 seems to be better anyway. The books still recommend 3-10.
  • FCC overheating. Symptom: It gets too hot to touch and will fail to push any pressure. Remedy: Updated firmware to latest version to enable PWM control, but it may still be facing sporadic overheating problems. Future remedy as of now will be modifying the canister to use the VENT line as a Return line, and also connecting the onboard fuel pressure regulator to the vacuum system.

Operation ENDURING BROWN: The First Battle of Bunk Bed Hill

Jun 05, 2017 in vantruck

Alright! Welcome to another exciting episode of “Wait, when did this become a car blog? I thought it was about brushless motors!” Well, just like how I commit horrible abominations to the industry of mechanical engineering daily, here is an abomination for gearheads: If you ever wanted to mate a truck bed to a van frame, this is your moment. Because I’m about to do just that, and put it on record.

As soon as I got VANTRUCK running (even if a little off-tune), I called a convention of my somewhat automotive-minded friends. We’re like the Justice Friends of working on silly vans. Together, we will take on the challenges of…

 

Oh boy. This mess needs to be unstacked first, then we deal with everything else. This assemblage was referred to as “bunk beds”, lending the name to this glorious undertaking. In one work afternoon we planned to remove the old bed and at least inspect/plan for new bed install. It was known to not be a drop-on installation, at least not with our knowledge of the light truck universe. That is, someone who has worked with Ford products for years could probably have identified a shortcut or workaround by reading on… well too late, we already did it the stupidest possible way! Actual installation was to be another day, with a week in between (where people had real jobs to attend to) where I would pregame making the needed brackets and assembling hoisting tools.

Removing the F350 bed from the stack was a 4-person job that involved sliding it backwards off the old bed and standing it upright on a large sheet of cardboard. It was then slid out of the way on the cardboard. I’d estimate it weight around 300-350 pounds – we could all handle it, but not with much finesse and certainly not for long.

So here we go! The first task in removal was identifying and removing all of the bolts holding the old bed on. The rusted-in-place carriage bolts with nuts underneath hidden by fuel tanks, crossmembers, and suspension components.

Half of the 12 carriage bolts were simply cut off at the heads because well, am I gonna reuse this? No. and the other half came off with differing amounts of effort.

This adventure took up a full half of the afternoon alone, and made me swear off the use of any independent nuts in the new mounting scheme. I’d much rather tighten bolts into threads that are machined into or welded onto (via weld nuts or tapped spacers/plates) the new bed mounting cross-members, than ever deal with a rusty Ny-lock nut again.

 

Lacking any sort of crane or hoist, we improvised with shoulder-slung steel tubes. This worked okay and clearly let all of us see who was the manliest man to ever man. Hint: wasn’t me.

This custom bed probably weighs north of 400 pounds (and is enormous) and while we were able to remove it, it was not with any precision. We basically dragged it off over the wheels.

This cannot be the case for the new bed, because it would mean a lot of damage to the underside. It’s built with more heavy steel than the F350 bed; we all thought it would weigh less, but in my opinion it was actually substantially more. Probably because it was designed from the start as a 5th-wheel mounting point.

And here it is, I now have a Vant. We just removed the -ruck part. There’s a lot of interesting and absolutely terrific things going on under that bed. First thing to note is it’s all mounted to 10 rubber body-mount bushings, not directly attached to the frame in any way. I don’t know if that’s normal for truck beds in general.

 

These are what I call “Precision Van Spacers”. They were under every crossmember, in varying amounts. I don’t know if these were “factory” or if someone installed them “aftermarket”. A good laugh was had by all.

 

What made me wonder even more was this large 5th-wheel hitch mounting plate. While it had Precision Van Spacer mounts in the end crossmembers, it was also welded to the frame through the angle brackets, here seen cut through with a grinder. So was the bed floating or not!? Anyways, this contraption had to be totally removed. It looks like it was supposed to be bolted through drilled frame holes, but someone made some interesting van decisions. I’l likely grind the remaining tabs more flush later.

I took the bushings off and….. I should not have taken the bushings off.

I didn’t need to see this. 1980s mulleted chain-smoker Charles would not have bought one of these now that he has had a good look at the build quality and, umm, craftsmanship.

So that’s the conclusion to Day 1 / Week 1. I now had to measure out and plot how to make new crossmembers to take advantage of the existing ragged Glory Holes torch-cut into the frame. <:(

I knew what I wanted was all topside service (no one guy above the bed, another underside, with some combo of breaker bars and push-me-pull-you dances) and no nuts. The new crossmembers would be fewer in number, as the F350 bed only has 3 rows of mounting holes, and likely just a flat slab of thick steel so I can thread into it directly.

Hey, look what’s easy to reach now! I replaced the rear fuel pump assembly and gauged the condition of the tank. Verdict? The rear tank is in much better shape than the front. This means the front tank had been out of service potentially for a year or two, if not more, gauging from its interior condition and the state of the remnant gasoline I pulled out. The rear would have been in use and cycling fuel through, preventing a lot of corrosion. The rear fuel pump wasn’t bad either, but the fuel gauge resistor strip had worn through (that’s why it didn’t read properly).

In the intervening week, I decided to just buy a Harbor Freight engine crane. I’ve had reasons to want one before, but never pressing ones such as “The landlords are asking why I have truck parts strewn about all over the parking lot”. As I mentioned above, we were not going to be able to wrestle the new bed on with any degree of precision, at least not with the GAINZ we’d be able to pick up in only a week, so a hoisting device was needed to take the weight while we did maneuvering only.

I also researched how people manipulate truck beds. This video (mute the soundtrack -_- ) ended up being my example, since he used the Harbor Freight engine crane. I’ve also seen two-crane dances and gantry cranes; while I would love to have a portable gantry crane, it’s basically a rigging job to buy one on its own and I decided it was beyond scope for the time being.

There was only one problem. The 2-ton Harbor Freight crane wouldn’t have reached far enough into the bed to balance it, since the truck in that video has a short bed (6 foot) and I have a long bed (8 foot). We thought about a few ways to counterbalance it, but ultimately I decided on doing it My Way.

This is #OSHAcrane:

Look away, Harbor Freight lawyers.

That’s an extra-long piece of 2″ square, 1/4″-wall steel tubing I drilled and machined to accept the same mounting hardware in order to make an extended reach crane boom.  Not shown is a steel biscuit that fits under it to take up the height difference between the outer tube and new boom. Otherwise it would have tilted down significantly and stressed the outer tube a lot more.

In terms of dimensions, the Harbor Freight crane is made with metric (C H I NA ) steel tube as far as I can tell. The inner adjustable boom measured 2 3/8″, or right around 60mm. I couldn’t get 2.25″ tube locally in time, so opted for thick-wall 2″ tube. If I wanted to make this again more correctly (…) I’d try to order metric steel tube online.

#OSHAcrane has about 18″ more reach than the stock crane. Shown under it is the two steel slats I’ll be making the new crossmembers from! They’re 8″ wide, 42″ long, and 1/2″ thick.

They are not light. But neither is VANTRUCK an aircraft or drone* and it really does need more weight over the rear axle anyhow.

*yet.

I arrived upon this dimension of steel plate by measuring and laying out the known mounting dimensions of the van frame and truck bed. I then picked two sets of body bushings which were the closest, and basically wrapped a rectangle around them.

The rear set of bushings would need to be moved up a few inches to accommodate, but I found that 8″ wide steel bar was sufficient. Otherwise, if I chose to not move the rear set, I’d need a 12″ wide slab.

Good thing I just got a milling machine running, huh? Bridget proved to be indespensible. I’d hate to have done this with a drill press, also inb4 get a plasma cutter. how about no

 

This is a finished replacement crossmember. The big hole is 3/4″ to clear a 1/2″ bolt with Van Precision – these get installed and tightened into the body bushings first. Then the bed is dropped on top and bolted from the top into the 1/2″-13 threaded holes.

Here they are installed! I had to machine out a portion of the forward crossmember to fit over the fuel pump.

Now it’s Saturday again, and we are once again gathered to shift heavy steel things a few inches at a time until Charles is satisfied. The rigging begins in the same fashion that the Ford Lightning bed removal video showed, using 4 ratchet straps, one to each corner of the bed. You can see that #OSHAcrane reaches exactly to the middle of the bed as designed!

” DESIGNED “. I make myself sound so serious.

This worked extremely well. The bed was raised just enough to move around…

…and up and over it goes! Flawless. We did exactly what we set out to do – provide guidance force only, and hold hoses and wires out of the way.

A snag – the shock absorber towers in the rear line up with one of the stock F350 bed crossmembers exactly. Well give me a carbon fiber enema…… why don’t I just mount the bed to those?

A half-hour of awkward step-drilling was needed to buy it some clearance. I drilled a sufficiently large hole such that the shock studs fall into them on each side.

Next snag! Ford, you assholes.

The rear set of mounting holes? 34″ apart, not 35″.  It was high enough up that I had a hard time getting a good visual alignment of the tape measure, and ended up making Certain Assumptions that “oh maybe they did a logical thing and made them the same so it’s easy”

Back to the mill I go….

After that fight was settled, the bolts were tightened down, and IT’S DONE! HOLY CRAP IT’S IN ONE PIECE AND IT RUNS AGAIN!

Here it is from the side. And you know what? i hate it.

Okay, not really, but now I am really thinking about a revision.

As we were drilling the two new holes for the rear crossmember, the thought suddenly occured to me that…. you know what, what if I just drilled new holes where they’re supposed to be, aligned with the truck bed crossmembers, so I didn’t have to use such wide steel slats?  I didn’t know how hard it would be to drill new holes (surprise: truck frames aren’t made of AR500 or anything, a step drill works too) so opted for the safe and quick solution of wrapping a rectangle around it. I was out to quickly get it back in one piece to not piss off the neighbors, over anything else, optimal solution be damned.

Second of all, I didn’t have a good way of determining the alignment vertically – the van frame curves up and down and was hard for me to get a datum off, especially in a beat up and unlevel parking lot. So this first pass at mounting it let me see what needs to move where.

I’d like the front edge of the bed to come upwards about 1″, and the whole thing should move forward about 1/2″ to close the epic cab-to-bed gap. I designed in the gap as a safety measure – would rather have too far than interfering – and now I’ve had a chance to see how it actually goes together, I can move them inwards for a more factory look…. not that the body lines meet or anything.

So there will be a Second Battle of Bunk Bed Hill. Especially that I know it’s super easy to lift the bed off with #OSHAcrane! I wouldn’t even need to lift everything, just one side at a time. I’m plotting the new crossmembers as 1.5″ x 3″ or 4″, 0.188 wall rectangular tube, and the new rear as 1/2″ thick x 3″ or 4″ wide steel strip. The tube would have machined 1/2″-13 coupling nuts welded through it to act as a tube boss (so the bolt isn’t just pulling on one wall of the tube) and the rear strip would be similar in construction to the current one.

With a significant source of stress lifted (heh) off my life by #OSHAcrane, I could now sleep easier and start picking at some of the smaller tasks. For instance, hooking up the new bed’s taillights. This first required some van spaghetti untangling:

Here’s all the factory, aftermarket, and after-aftermarket wiring extracted from the old bed. The F350 bed has all the lights terminating in a single connector, which is nice.

What’s not nice is not being about to find or source the matching connector. So I decided to improv and pulled out a 7-pin military surplus Amphenol connector from MITERS. Now I have even more America on this thing! Military-grade hardware!

Decoding the Ford connector was easy with a multimeter (and battery + suicide cable to see the lights turn on and off). All it then took was cutting off all of the van spaghetti and reaching back into the frame to grab the OEM wire harness and pulling it out. Here’s the terminated non-spaghetti lighting harness mated to the new bed.

The little green wire is a detail for later. That is supposed to be connected to the brake pedal switch directly, apparently so it can power a CHMSL. Vantruck does not have one, and I currently have no plans to install one (though if it will help keep texting idiots off my new bed…..) so I wrapped up this pin in the bundle for now.

All of the extraneous spaghetti removed, along with what sockets and bulbs I could salvage.

 

Something something about being lit, fam (shoot. me. now.)

The last major mechanical task is mounting the new step bumper, which has to be mounted on a long extension bracket to clear the bed. The Ford E-series step bumpers I bought do not have a cutout on the corners to fit around the bed like the F-series bumpers do, so I have to mount well behind the bed. I’m talking like a 8″+ extension bracket. This will be performed after I make adjustments to the bed position.

I will probably take a short break from Vantruck work, since it fundamentally is back in one piece, runs well, and is street legal lighting and fenders-wise.  At the least it can get out of its own way. Look for more work on Brushless Rage coming soon, because I want to push that damn thing to beta and to release this summer.

Operation ENDURING BROWN: Well, This Smells Familiar

May 31, 2017 in vantruck

Work on the beleaguered U.S.S. BROWN C. STENNIS has been continuing at a rapid pace! For what really is the first time with one of my projects, I called for extensive backup from friends willing to lend some elbow grease. First, because some of them are more “car people” than me, and second, because everything on this thing is heavy. It’s like the Chevy of trucks: cheap and heavy.

Wait…. Hang on.

This post recaps all the events of about 2 weeks ago following its return from my mechanic; I elected to take it back since it had not yet been consistently diagnosable (i.e. it was becoming a “throw parts at it” situation) and I didn’t want to keep running up labor charges. I ended up going through a series of cross-checks and inspections and discovered the problem was all too familiar, but obfuscated by a compounding issue. In the end, it was literally entirely my fault, so I’m very satisfied; unlike most people, I’m only happy if I caused the entire mess in the first place.

Let’s begin.

Prodding Ford Truck Bro forums and groups led a lot of Internet mechanics to suspect an ignition problem. The ignition coil on these things is tucked snugly into the valley between the two V8 cylinder banks (seen above) and its electronic control module can also succumb to temperature-related failure. As I described it, where the engine will start and run for only 10-20 minutes, it sounded like a temperature-dependent electrical issue.

I had my doubts, because it would only some times start and run for 10-20 minutes, and other times have a hard time starting at all. But seeing as these parts were all fairly cheap, I decided to outright replace them just in case.

 

That’s the Ur-ECU ignition control module. I like how it’s just bolted into the wheelwell stamping like a good ol’ retrofit system that got put into production. “Looks good here! Build ‘em like this!”

So this didn’t resolve anything. I started wondering about other electrical systems in the path of the fuel pumps. For some reason, there are a whole bunch, as illustrated by this handy diagram I drew in a fit of frustration:

I managed to locate and test the fuel pump cutoff relay but couldn’t find any trace of the fuel tank selector relay. Based on some more sleuthing, I deduced that the DPDT selector switch might have been wired directly to the fuel pumps. The object that says “NEW!!!!” all over it is this contraption:

Another one of those “Well why the hell did you do that?” parts on this thing is the fuel tank selector valve. It’s basically a small hydraulic solenoid valve that connects one circuit to two, but shittier and plastic. And it was the source of one of my troubles.

See, while bypassing the fuel pump power safety cutoffs, I did numerous impromptu fuel pump volume tests (because I wanted to see if it was pumping fuel with shortcut wiring). This led me to discover that some times, the fuel volume was low or nearly nonexistent. It would start off good, and then taper off. This actually corroborated a weird behavior I noticed where some times when the engine would start sputtering, I would wiggle the selector switch repeatedly for a few seconds and it would gain some run time. This was in fact one of the symptoms that made me think a power supply to the fuel pump problem.

Uh oh. Suspecting that this valve had been bad from the beginning despite me testing it on the bench  listening to it turn over, I performed another volume test upstream of the valve. Both pumps were giving the correct volume, so I scrambled back to Pep Boys and picked up a new valve and spliced it in. I don’t know exactly what kind of failure mode it is – maybe the mechanism inside is sufficiently worn or damaged such that it might travel fine, but can easily be pushed out of position by fuel pressure. Maybe that causes it to backflow into the un-powered tank, or maybe it just plugs up and sits there.

The recurring lesson I’ve been learning from VANTRUCK is “BTDMIW” :  But That Doesn’t Mean It Works. Just because I jiggled the component on the bench, or in isolation, doesn’t mean it actually is working correctly when installed.

But there was more! The fuel being pumped from the front tank, the one I personally serviced with a new pump and float  – was rather BROWN. It was darker than what I usually knew gasoline as. Even more telling was that there was sediment on the bottom of the jar.

I instantly knew what was happening. The next thing I did was run around to the front and start unscrewing the carburetor fuel inlet line:

…and I sheared it off in the process, because I untwisted the first big nut looking thing I saw, but it was really the nut that went into that nut. Brilliant!

I couldn’t even blow through that little metal sponge. It’s the “filter of last resort” for the carburetor, and it had trapped in it all of the rust slurry being pumped from the front tank. You can see some of the visible grunge on top.

Dedicated readers might recall that I also replumbed the fuel tanks in the same operation that I replaced the front fuel pump in. Even more dedicated (or observant) readers will also notice that I did not install an inline fuel filter on the front tank. Why? Who knows?! Maybe I’m just traumatized by fuel filters. Maybe I thought the fuel pump’s jizz sock thing was enough.

I patched this section of steel fuel line with some rubber hose and called it good.

Here it is installed behind the zinc-chrome part in the lower center. That is a “vapor separator valve”, or as I kept calling it, the vaping valve. It was bypassed earlier this photo series by a chunk of fuel hose. Unlike a modern fuel injection system where there’s a fuel pressure regulator bleeding off fuel into the return line, this is just a little pipe with a hole in it. Its nominal purpose is to prevent vapor lock by having fuel vapor escape through the little hole, along with small amount of fuel. Ford sells these in several hole sizes depending on how much you want your engine to vape and also to help modulate fuel pressure. What the hell? Almost every system on this vehicle in some way is analogous to touching a variable resistor to something. None of this is okay.

And you know what? It ran GREAT!  Rev for days! Piss of the neighbors!  A M E R I C A N  P R I D E. Oh crap, what’s that smell??

This is a giant puddle of BROWN  that was slowly increasing in magnitude as I was having too much fun firing gun-wielding Bald Eagles out of the exhaust. Which, by the way, was backfiring (afterfiring) like crazy. It was clear the thing was running super rich. I now had literally the opposite problem as before. Hurray!

A little research showed that all of this BROWN was coming out of the vapor canisters. So much fuel was getting into the carburetor that it was coming out of, and flushing, the vapor collector lines and washing out the canister. Great! It’s like clearing your sinuses!

(The parking lot is still BROWN and smells like a freshly coated gym floor there, to this day)

So what was the cause? I dug into the carburetor manual a little after observing it with the air cleaner removed. That’s where I discovered another “tighten the incorrect nut” problem.

I found a little nut on the carburetor that I thought was left loose by the mechanic; since, you know, I kind of bailed it out of their hands before they could put it back together. So I tightened it. All the way.

Well it turns out that’s the fuel level adjust screw and accompanying locking nut for the secondary throttle (which only opens after about 50% throttle travel or so). All the way down is all the fuel, all the time, forever and ever. I noticed the secondary throttle discharge was completely wet even while idling.

This screw was adjusted more correctly.

 

And off we go! I went on a “Lap of I-95″ test. On the whole, performance was excellent. I made a point to exit and then re-enter the freeway repeatedly to do full throttle pulls from ~25 to 70mph. It still tended to be a little backfire-y when letting off from high throttle demands. Given that the mechanic didn’t have a chance to properly tune and road test, I think something’s still a little whacky, but that is now an addressable problem.

Hello, Mr. Tesla. Get in my belly.

In the end, I concluded that there had to be a very specific series of events and misjudgements for the running condition to get this bad. Here is my assessment of what happened:

  • I replace the front fuel pump. Given that I had no lift and was working entirely on the ground without help, mostly in the dark, I didn’t drop the fuel tank fully and inspect it. I only lowered it enough on the straps to grab the fuel pump. Therefore, I didn’t see how much rust was inside.
  • When the front fuel pump went back in, I neglected to install an inline filter on the output side.
  • Filling of the fuel tank with new fuel, plus the force of the collision, likely washed a lot of loose debris into circulation, where it was picked up by the pump.
  • I specifically used the front tank around town and during the Motorama trip attempt to ensure the system was operational.
  • The carburetor began clogging with this rust slurry, causing me to abandon the Motorama trip as problems gently surfaced.
  • Gradually, with additional around-the-town usage, it became worse as more rust slurry blocked the caburetor inlet screen.
  • The particulate debris MAY have also affected the operation of the fuel tank selector valve – I am uncertain if it played a substantial role in the earlier problems.
  • The mechanic was able to test for proper fuel volume delivery because the valve problem was a some times thing, which incorrectly ruled out the fuel system as a source of trouble. The Ford official player’s guide makes you only time the delivery of 1 pint of fuel as the test. I was pumping into a 5-gallon gas can and was purposefully holding the pumps on for a while in case something caused them to lose power.
  • After the carburetor rebuild, I told him to continue testing using the front tank, because the rear tank was in an unknown state to me and had a non-functional fuel gauge sensor, whereas I said I had replaced the front fuel pump and fuel gauge sensor.
  • Furthermore, for debugging systems in isolation, they bypassed the fuel tank selector valve completely and directly piped the front fuel tank to the carburetor.
  • The carburetor began clogging with rust slurry again, leading to much the same symptoms and to the frustration of all involved.
  • This timed well with me electing to cut my expenses and asking them to stop work.

So there you have it. Once again, one of my vans is stymied by the uncertain nature of fuel delivery. You know what? Electrons don’t need fuel filters! What are you gonna catch, some neutrinos?

How bad is the front tank? Probably very. Before I turned anything on again post inspection, I went and bought the biggest clear inline filter Pep Boys had to sell and dropped it on the front fuel tank’s output line. That’s what it looked like afterwards. Delicious, delicious BROWN . I’m not likely to do any fancy fuel tank treatments to stop this. New replacements can be had for $100 or less, and as long as the bed has to come off, replacement will be easy. Plus, unlike Mikuvan’s filter, these two things are easy to reach, so I am likely just going to keep changing big plastic pubbles first and foremost.

Next time, the action starts for real: