The First of the Year! Operation IDIocracy: Time for the Teardown

IT’S TIME

FOR THE WRECK-ONING

On a rather warm and dry post-Christmas afternoon, the Snekvan experiment to came to an end. I pulled it into the “open for van shenanigans” half of the carport, chocked the wheels, and began the deconstruction.

Vans vs. Harbor Freight: Coming to Netflix this fall

There was a LOT of work to do before I could actually use those stands, cranes, and lifts. All of the accessory drives and wiring had to be removed first. While this is all rote and procedural, I anticipated a lot of little side quests originating from rusted or stuck fasteners, dried out hoses, and so forth.

One of the annoying time-consuming things? Fluids draining. A van is really just several leaking fluids arranged in a clever fashion. Recall that at the start, I replaced the “coolant” in snekvan with a degreaser solution to start counteracting the years of buildup from the leaking oil cooler.

That problem had now come home to roost.

This is what I ended up with when I pulled the radiator drain plug: Gallons and gallons of

brown

…one of many brown substances to come.

It presented a unique disposal situation. There was no way I was going to let this just run down the driveway. But, at the same time, this part of the county has an older combined sewer system (notorious in the news for releasing poop into the river when it rains heavily), so… driveway or not, it’ll end up the same place.

I at least gave it the decency of a toilet burial, which entailed transfer pumping it into gallon jugs and pouring it out.

The next brown substance was the transmission fluid and engine oil. Engine oil was easy enough, but the transmission fluid had to be transfer pumped out through the dipstick, as Ford did not (in their infinite wisdom) put a drain plug on the E4OD fluid pan. I actually kept the transmission fluid since I had topped it off a good amount, and on the whole it still retained a bright red color.

The first parts to come off are the last that got installed – the turbos and pipes. I put all of these bits in a tote – while I’m going to remake the pipes less haphazardly, they’ll be good as references or to have around.

Now I’m ready to start dismantling the accessories and subsystems. The grille and headlights come off to expose the A/C condenser in front of the radiator, which needs to be removed. The A/C was long dead/never hooked up anyway.

I spent a while figuring out how these stupid garter spring connectors worked and how to actually use these disconnect tools. It turns out the circular sockets the springs fit in can get plugged up by dirt pretty easily, so they can’t expand enough to actually let the fitting go. Also, the Harbor Freight disconnect tools seemed to have too aggressive of an edge. I gently belt sanded a chamfer onto the edge to make it pop in easier. Then I had a fun time figuring out which end to pull on – it was completely the opposite polarity as I thought it would be.

There were three of these connections – one on the passenger side of the condenser leading under the battery tray, this one by the driver’s side, and one more that’s further back set against the firewall. I suppose I didn’t need to remove that one, but did anyway to clear working space.

The bottom of the radiator has an integrated transmission cooler, so the hoses coming from the transmission had to be decoupled as well.

After that, the radiator support is removed and then the ENORMOUS radiator pops out from the top. I had to stand over the thing and hoist it out – it was beyond the weight of what I could pick up standing next to it!

I took the opportunity to thoroughly hose the engine down with degreaser of varying grades. This entire engine was a seemingly never maintained oil leak, and there was grunge coating every surface.

I rented a fan clutch wrench tool to release this threaded fan hub. The big wrench fits over the four bolts holding the water pump pulley on, then another small wrench is used to loosen the fan hub itself.

Well, that’s how it’s supposed to work, I think, but I couldn’t get any leverage with the confined space to use the small wrench.

I found that the small wrench clipped over the power steering pump, so I simply cranked the fan hub off using the big wrench instead.

By 1991, the third-generation van chassis was such a legacy platform already that just about everything sprouted off it with a bracket, and those brackets were held on by several different fastener sizes.

Having worked on the others, I’ve noticed that a lot of the core chassis and engine hardware is x/16″ sizes (7/16″-14 and 9/16″-12 in particular), which are very rare today. These were mixed in with ones I expected more (3/8″, 1/2″) and even worse, by 1991, a bunch of random metric screws too. The vacuum pump? Metric. Transmission? Metric. Everything else? I dunno, try the sockets until they fit.

Well that’d be why Snekvan couldn’t retain anything in its power steering system! The return hose was not just dry rotted, but straight up turning to dust.

I’m well on the way to removing all of the Brackets™ now. Look, I maintain that the IDI is easier to service in the Econoline than the 460 in Vantruck. I suppose both are just as easy to service if you Remove Everything beforehand.

This was also when I began scoping out the wiring changes I had to make.

Wiring Reconciliation is going to be an entire sub-project in its own right. I have it somewhat easy – the IDI doesn’t really need “Wiring™” to work. But there will still be a lot of wires crossing in order to hook up the OEM gauges and sensors, plus an entirely new glow plug circuit that has to be accommodated.

On top of that, my choice of the E4OD transmission means I actually need to find a home for what would be the engine control module (ECM). That’s that huge connector up there. In a 1991 fuel-injected gasoline engine truck or van, it would also run all of the injectors and emissions sytems. For the diesel engine, it’s basically just a transmission computer.

It’s important to note that the cavity it sits in does not exist in the 1986 chassis of Vantruck, so I’ll need to invent a climate-sheltered location for it.

To add to the wiring tragedy yet to come, the IDI has a slew of temperature-controlled whirlygigs. As a result, it has no less than three individual little senders or temperature switches. One is actually hooked up to the coolant temperature gauge on the dashboard. One is a switch that controls power to the cold idle solenoid and timing advance solenoid. And the third toggles an “Engine Temp” light on the instrument panel independently of the coolant temperature gauge!

I found a photo on The Internet of what these little sensors do. This photo is for me, when I inevitably forget and wonder why the coolant temperature gauge is blinking and the cold idle only works when hot.

One of the final steps is removing the injection pump. This is a bit of a tricky operation in the van because you have to work in Hammerspace. It’s obviously much easier with everything on the top side removed! In fact, they make a specific bent wrench for getting to the tricky nut on the passenger side in-situ. I was luckily able to reach it from the front here (normally blocked by The Everything). Beyond that, all of the injection fittings backed off with ease.

You end up with this weird spider looking creature.

I decided to do the No-No Thing and also remove the injection pump gear and housing. This is specified against in the Official Strategy Guide, even for removing the engine, because it means you lose the timing of the engine. This timing gear mates with the camshaft gear far enough down that you can’t see the gear mate, or guarantee that a dead drop will actually land the timing marked teeth together.

Since I’m taking the entire engine apart for a rebuild, I didn’t care so much. I really had no idea how you were supposed to remove the engine with the housing attached because it sticks up so high that it seemed impossible to actually lift the engine enough, given the craning distance you have is on the order of a few inches.

Some of the last parts to come out are metal hardlines such as the OEM under-engine fuel line, transmission cooler lines, and the dipsticks.

And here we are, with the engine fully stripped down and all of the mounting bolts on the bottom backed out. At this point the only thing holding it in is gravity…

Operation IDIocracy: The Terroristic Reign of Snekvan; Adding Instrumentation, Boost, and Fuel

I mentioned in the previous IDIocracy post that I already started driving Snekvan in un-tuned form around. The turbo setup had become fully “closed loop” at that point – meaning, at least, that charge air went into the engine and it didn’t emit oil from everywhere. After putting a few heat cycles and start/stop cycles in, it was time to try and blow it up!

I was only going to put basic and critical instruments on – a boost gauge and an exhaust gas temperature (EGT) gauge. The former measures when the head bolts fall out, and the latter when the pistons begin melting. I gathered that “more fuel” and “more boost” were the only dimensions of “tuning” these old mechanical diesels, with the important exercise being repair what blew up and then adding more of whatever you just did.

Yeah, yeah, you can adjust the timing curve of the injection pump and whatnot inside… I’m aware, I just consider that a black box at the moment.

This thing already has a bunch of holes drilled in it for whatever, what’s one more? I made a pass-through in the “doghouse” compartment towards the driver’s side. A little run of wire loom will be enough for now to prevent the steel edges from breaking anything.

Up top, I changed the tee fitting such that the (mechanical) boost gauge sense hose got its own fitting, and the wastegate hoses were joined together.

The EGT probe occupies (finally!) the small bung I welded onto the Left Snail adapter. I didn’t go for dual EGT probes, even though the Right Snail pipe has one as well. Vantruck will have dual EGT readouts once everything’s all done.

To power the gauge readouts and lights, I stole 12 volts from the fuel cutoff solenoid on the injection pump. This goes hot whenever the key my rigged toggle switch is in the ON position.

Here’s the EGT cable (silver braided cord), the power cable, and the mechanical boost gauge hose routed through the loom. And that’s it. No tucking, no zip tying, no keeping it even remotely hidden.

Everything goes up top to this generic 2 inch round gauge holder. I got it from Harbor Freight, and it came with the boost gauge, an oil temperature gauge, and a…. ammeter gauge. What a choice of variables to watch, huh? The EGT display is an Amazon special, but fits the same 2 inch universal gauge holder.

With this setup, I was able to get an intial baseline for Snekvan. The “stock” fueling only managed around 5 or so pounds of boost, even at full ham. Not enough to trip the wastegates on the eBay special turbos which are (hopefully) 8 PSI. The EGTs on an open highway were very low, on the order of 180 to 200 celsius, and never exceeded 360C even on extended full throttle pulls. The IDI was tuned to be a reliable workhorse, not a drag racer. There was a lot of room here.

And so we begin. The way to adjust the fuel on this Stanadyne DB-2 injection pump is by taking the little service lid off the right-hand (passenger) side.

The Internet said “A little diesel will spill out”.

By “A little” they meant the entire pump (fully submerged inside and air-free) will drain out of this hole. That’s like a half gallon, I swear.

To access the Secret Set Screw of Fuel Adjustment, turn the engine by hand (breaker bar and a 15/16″ deep socket on the crankshaft) until the front of the injection pump gear reaches high noon o’clock.

The Secret Set Screw of Fuel Adjustment lies within the Rotating Whatever-the-Fuck of Making It Go. on the very posterior of the V-shaped opening.

To get at this screw, you need to use a 5/32″ hex key that has at least ~1.25 inch of depth before it turns, so it’s either a ratchet driver bit or putting a wrench or vise grip on the short end of a regular L-handle. I only had a long-reach ratchet driver for 5/32 and that didn’t fit in the van engine cave, so vise grip it is. This screw is in a distorted thread locking feature and so it takes quite a lot of torque to turn.

The Internet Lore with this procedure is to adjust the screw one “flat” at a time (60 degree increments) and taking note of EGT. I had ascertained through the same Internet that going a half turn right out of the gates (180 degree, 3 flats) was probably fine. So, I did just that.

That was the state of Snekvan when I recorded this driving video:

It was able to hit ~8 PSI on the gauge if I let it rip, but did take some time to build up to that point. It definitely felt like there was more to give, and the EGTs were higher – on the order of 400 celsius maximum, but fell quickly once I let off.

Sagely Old Guy advice on the Internet seemed to converge around 1000-1200F (or around 540-650C) as the maximum safe continuous operating condition for reliability, and I wasn’t anywhere near yet.

That driving video was actually quite long and involved some stops and red-light pulls, but generally speaking there was enough traffic that I could only get a limited amount of wringing done.

Well okay then. Here we go! We’re now going to turn up the boost, after having turned up the fuel!

To adjust the wastegates on these things much higher than 8 PSI, it seems like you actually need to start cutting the actuator rod. I decided to go for 15 PSI, which needed an inch of chopping and using a die to cut more threads onto the rod so the clevis rod end could go back far enough.

At that level, too, there felt like not much waste to be gating on that little actuator. It’s already preloaded forwards so far I’m not even sure how much more it can push. For Vantruck, where I want to run 20 pounds and above, I’ll need to investigate using an external biasing spring (imagine a spring threaded over that whole rod) to keep the range of motion available.

The way I determined how much to back up the rod was by using a hacked up Harbor Freight tire filler and slowly pushing the handle to observe at what pressure the cans started moving. Maybe not the most accurate method, but it let me not uninstall both turbos and remove only the canisters, so…

At this point, I decided to take a few good photos of the integration since I had only limited testing I wanted do remaining and I needed to start knocking it down for Operation IDIocracy Increment 2: Rebuild Boogaloo. This is a look from the underside showing the oil drain pump and the awkward U-turn, which will be designed out once I lob this thing in Vantruck.

And here’s the top side! Basically everything is accessible with the shifting of a few hoses, even with the auxiliary rear heater hose stack in place (on the left). Depending on how much more hosiery I want to deal with, there is plenty of space to turn around an intercooler hose there too. All of this with the OEM fuel filter head in place (anterior left of the Chamber of No-Nos shown) and no wiring/cables/hoses routed properly whatsoever.

Now compare this to Spool Bus:

Yup, design goal #1 is already accomplished.

Debugging and Hotfixes

I keep mentioning that I actually drove this thing a lot in the couple weeks it was together in November and December, and it’s true – I put probably 500 to 600 miles on it minimum. I went to a couple of local weekly meetups to show the goods around to the astonishment, disgust, and intrigue of many:

During one of these, I noticed something in the engine bay starting to emit oil everywhere. It wasn’t immediately obvious where it was coming from. My from-turbos oil return fitting that was going into the injection pump timing gear cover was stain-free, and yet every belt and surface underneath was just covered.

It took a little investigating once I got home. Can you see the problem below?

Yes, it seems like the same oil return hose popped free of its crude zip tie ligatures at some point and committed self-die on the alternator belt:

It wasn’t a big gash, but just enough of a leak to slowly slime itself. I don’t think I even noticed an oil level change on the dipstick, but it doesn’t take much to make a mess.

Therefore, one of the first design revisions was to the routing of this oil return hose! It now exits over the top of the engine. I could definitely do with a right-angle fitting here in the future.

The next Monthly Not Cars & Not Coffee was December 2021, so I decided to make this its final public appearance. I had a little fun with the pressure washer the night before as well, as BattleBots was about to premier in January of ’22….? Yes, I meant 2022. I’ll be writing 2020 for the next 3 decades.

The problem is there’s nothing to see, because van. In a galaxy brain moment, I decided to jump a parking island and hang the nose off the front of it. It was well received once people figured out what was happening.

On the way back home, I showed off a little leaving a quick after-meet at the local Instagrammable Asian Food Gallery and pop

Uh oh. Why is this diesel engine pulling a mild vacuum? (For the uninitiated, diesel engines don’t normally throttle air and so should NOT be pulling intake manifold vacuum unlike gas-engine cars). It wasn’t like the boost hoses blew off or anything, because that should expose the intake adapter to atmospheric air pressure. This was a vacuum. The gauge went down if I stepped on it or went faster.

I took the Slinkyhoses out to have a look.

So this was an interesting failure mode. Snekvan’s completely ratted out engine is down on compression and burns or otherwise emits a lot of oil. This comes out of the PCV (CDR) system and is fed into the right-hand intake. Therefore, one of these slinkyhoses has just been getting sprayed down with hot oil, and the neoprene rubber they were made of can’t handle it.

It delaminated from the inside and basically formed a big arterial dissection. I literally had to perform bypass surgery on a van. It’s also interesting to note that the left (driver’s) side hose is completely intact because it doesn’t need to carry Extra Lubricated Air.

I decided to try the silicone variant of the same hose to see if it would fare better. I don’t know how these get made, but I hope the material is overmolded onto itself at high temperatures and cure together as one instead of being adhered together by some intermediate glue. That the neoprene hose disintegrated between layers wasn’t promising.

And with the silicone hose embedded, I decided to turn up the fuel ALL THE WAY – seems like it’s about 1.5 full turns, give or take – and absolutely send it for Snekvan’s last hurrah. I had it recorded by a dude with a camera gimbal who was seated in an open hatchback while his wife drove:

Now this… This was absolutely a beast. It sounded much angrier and was basically the second fastest thing I owned (after the substantially newer 290HP Coronavan). This was a good technical “save point” for the project.

And so ends the saga of Snekvan. This video was filmed the morning of Christmas when all was basically quiet and hung over. I was going to start the teardown that day.