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Enter The Summer of Ven: Booting Up Murdervan and Digging Into the IDI 7.3L Diesel

chorl

Here it is, the last post I laid out some time in September before giving up on my “web van” for several months. I might be the only person I know who not only has terrible piles of vehicles in disrepair in his yard, but also terrible piles of websites in disrepair on his hosting account. I have yet to repair e0designs.com, and at this point I’m thinking of just incorporating it here as a “Store” page like way back in the halcyon days of 2011 or something. It’s not like I’m going to take off into full time consulting again any time soon.

So a preface before I dive in – the theme of my past couple of post-resurrection posts has been “I’ve been told by enough people that they have found instances where I fixed or took apart or modified some random contraption valuable that I should continue writing my site”. And this is totally true, both for you and me (as I seem to periodically require reminding). I’ve conversely stumbled upon instances just this year alone where I found that somebody else has deep dove into a contraption I just bought and wrote entire websites about it.

Relatively rarely do I follow someone else’s work so closely because I tend to do offbeat things as soon as I get an understanding of what’s going on. But I’d be way underselling the community contribution to Murdervan and Spool Bus alike if I didn’t give a shoutout to IDI Online, written by Nick Pisca. This guy vans. Like he’s taken his ven up to the Arctic Circle, while the only Circle I trust any of mine to get to is a Circle-K, and only then under duress.

After the “Oh shit, now I actually have to go get it” moment with Murdervan, I spent a long time reading just about every post on his site. I’m not out to modify anything right away, but I found it important to learn the ecosystem and get a big picture idea of what goes into one of these highway-worthy tractors. Also important was a group of friends who have owned, or currently own, older Ferd diesel trucks who gave me leader links and tips on a lot of resources and aftermarket parts such as Accurate Diesel and IDI Performance.

Social media, again, is nice and all for the Now, but I think this level of generational collaboration is not something it’s good at. I’m now taking care of these two abominations after first asking my friends where the distributor and ignition coil is located by accident (….oh, right). At some point, somebody might be crawling the expanses of the Internet for a weird problem with their tractor-van, and they’ll happen on this site, and the knowledge will live on. By no means am I a diesel mechanic, but after the next few posts I might be able to convince someone else!

So here we go! It’s the end of May, and I’ve woken up after a fever dream where I swore I bought a van, but it can’t possibly be real becau…

Oh GOD what have I done

Obviously the first mission was to get the thing running well, then I’ll start working on all the little bugs and generally making facility improvements. My philosophy of ven generally prioritizes Running Good, then Feeling Good, then finally Looking Good. That means after it’s able to run, drive, and at least pretend to stop, then I get to fixing all the annoying broken interior gauges and functions and whatnot.

Let’s get started. First off, it does crank, but it felt quite strained and slow for the two nearly-new size 65 batteries that Not Charles Manson threw in. I also noticed the two batteries were at different voltages. This suggested to me a grounding or charging issue that was throwing them off balance between each other, so I first began digging.

Well, that was simple. The auxiliary battery (on the driver’s side) looks like it’s had its ground cable sucked into the power steering pump.

I pulled the whole mess out and yeowch. You can see where it got pulled out of the ground lug (silver stub of wire on the right).  This obviously is going to need a total rework, but at least the first mystery is solved.

For starters (hee), I just linked the two batteries together using my largest jumper cables, and put them on charge overnight so they have a chance to equalize.

The way I have come to understand the IDI engine family is that they are generally extremely reliable, but there are several weaknesses that are just endemic to being an old all-mechanical diesel engine which, if you don’t pay attention and let maintenance slide after a while (or after it’s been through 8 owners)  can be troublesome to get to a good stable state again.

  • The fuel system is all mechanical, with a camshaft-driven diaphragm-style lift pump that slurps from the fuel tank (18 feet behind you)
  • The fuel delivery is all mechanical, with a Stanadyne DB2 rotary distributor (AHA, IT DOES HAVE A DISTRIBUTOR! Checkmate, friends) type high pressure injection pump
  • The fuel injectors are pressure-pulse actuated from the high-pressure injection pump. That means the pump punches the steel fuel line with a few thousand PSI, enough to pop the injector on the other side open for just a little bit, then it springs closed again. The strength of punch determines how much fuel is injected and subsequently how much motion you get.

What this implies is that if there is air anywhere in the system, it will cause numerous issues and you will be cranking and cranking forever to try and push through it. And of course there’s 17 miles of rubber hoses comprising the fuel feed and return lines, which leak as they age and harden and cause the system to lose prime.  In this case, the…

  • Fuel pump has to be working overtime to fill the injection pump back up
  • The injection pump has to prime itself and push air out of the injection side
  • Any trapped air bubbles in the fuel lines themselves act as cushions for the injection pressure and may cause the injection pulse to be dissipated and no injection to take place
  • And all this implies you’re holding down the starter forever
  • Because the starter has to generate a high engine speed to get the compression temperature and run the fuel and injection pump, electrical gremlins such as a weak/old battery and corroded grounds then come into play.

The starter sounds like it does a lot of work in this system, and you’ll find a lot of guides and how-to posts on forums basically telling you to crank through it which can take several cycles of 30 seconds on, a few minutes off. There’s also arcane procedures on how to bleed air out of the system, such as gently unscrewing the injector fittings, as well as pushing a little Schrader valve on the fuel filter mount. A lot of the aftermarket support for these engines seem to replace or upgrade some of these fuel delivery subsystems, and after experiencing Murdervan I definitely understand why. Old crispy rubber and corroded battery terminals are just things that happen, and they impact this engine family a lot due to its design.

Anyways, after a few hours of tinkering and consulting friends while running the batteries down again,  I elected to cheat and use some ether.

Now, you’re not supposed to ether a diesel engine at all for a multitude of Car Guy Advice reasons I won’t get too much into. What I was told is the primary concern is ether hitting hot glow plugs  and ruining your day (as well as the glow plugs), or damaging the piston rings due to the sudden uncontrolled combustion. These engines also feature pre-injection chambers (“precups”) which can be cracked by said combustion.

I’ll be honest, a lot of the advice on this front sounds like it’s preventing someone from just emptying an entire can of starting fluid at a time like a fidgety lawn mower. Yes, I can see that ending poorly.

Either way, I pressed a little bit and of course, there is recommended leeway if you had to ether a diesel: Use very small amounts at a time, and be cranking through it the whole time. The idea being you’re just feeding the engine air that is just a bit spicier than normal, helping it kick off, and no more. The glow plug circuit on Murdervan was also completely dead, so there was at least no risk of backfiring or blowing them up.

So here goes nothing. I carefully aimed the starting fluid can at the black hole, floored the throttle pedal, and gave it about a half second flick…

Jeez this thing is loud. Also, the vape cloud which slowly swallowed my entire block (You’re welcome, neighbors) was because of the sheer amount of fuel that I deposited in the exhaust from many unsuccessful starts. After it cooked off, it seemed to be a lot better. The initially very unsteady idle gradually settled out after (presumably) the system fully primed itself and all the injectors were air-free. Well, things are superficially working now!

I was therefore able to verify that it does indeed turn, go, and stop. Very well, in fact. I couldn’t get up to a useful speed in the yard without risking expanding my yard into another yard, but all of the motions were gone through.

Oh, and a quick aside: I feel like the 7.3 IDI is more serviceable in the van than the 460 big block. I can plausible reach my forearm into the gap between the exhaust manifold and engine cave seam! No spark plugs or wires or smog lines! There’s also not much going on up top since there’s no carburetor (The injection pump is up front).

After the thing warmed up A HALF HOUR LATER (I was warned that warming up these things is just heating up a 1,100 pound chunk of cast iron) I was able to get a few restarts in without any hesitation. Based on these conditions, my friends and I surmised that it was a fine and functional 7.3L IDI tractor engine, but likely just has old and aerating fuel fittings. Cold starts after sitting a while might be painful, but it should be trouble free.

So now I can move onto the next stage of things, which is making it less shitty. Vantruck went through a similar cycle: less shitty first, more gooder later.

I continued my focus on the starting-centric components because as one of my friends put it, “These engines take 1.21 gigawatts to start but will then run until the sun burns out” or something similar. I had some 2/0-sized battery cables (Good gracious) on order at the time to repair the destroyed battery ground, so in the mean time, let’s tinker with the glow plug circuit.

Pictured above is the only semiconductor in this entire van, and it doesn’t even matter. There is ONE technology in it. Just one.

It’s the glow plug controller, and it looks too new to be OEM – likely a recent reproduction, as I was told the original ones were electromechanical (i.e. relays, bimetallic strips, analog timers…). Either way, it’s dead. I pried the bottom off to access the circuit board, and there’s a burnt out MOSFET on it which I assume threw the big relay.

This glow plug controller appears to just be a timer for the most part – when you key ON (but not START), it throws the glow plug contactor until the current falls to a certain level, indicating the glow plugs have reached final temprature.

The large squiggly metal bus bar on the controller module is a current sensing resistor, and there is an amplifier chip on this board that reads it. It’ll then shut off the “Wait to start” light, and hopefully you’ll actually start the engine. As far as I can discern, it takes the second key-on as a sign to cycle the glow plug contactor every few seconds (to assist in the initial cold start and keep the pre-chamber warm).

A new one costs around $100-150. I decided to wait on buying a new complete unit for now, since I don’t even know if the plugs themselves were working or if they were burnt out, and I otherwise know your only job is to carefully touch the battery to a few little cartridge heaters. Come on. Even I can do that.

The glow plugs themselves are just that, little cartridge heaters that get red hot and then get fuel sprayed on them inside the cylinders. I tested the glow plugs by jumping a starting battery directly to the contactor and reading the current draw with my DC clamp meter. The circuit only pulled about 80 amps, which is far too low according to the specification for Motorcraft (Ferd OEM) glow plugs, which is 0.3 ohms per. That ought to give me an inrush draw of 300 amps assuming the batteries are solid. Whatever, I’m out to make improvements, so I ordered a set of DieselRX glow plugs from Lord Bezos.

See, in the pickup trucks and tractors, you can just look down at them from above by opening the hood. Here, in the Econolines, you are basically working blind in a space you can’t even fit your head into, much less tools of adequate leverage at helpful angles. To get to these, I had to outfit my lonest 1/4″-drive ratchet with a short 2 inch extension and universal joint, then a 3/8″ deep-well socket on the end. Most of them are more readily reached from the backside (inside the cab) after removing the air cleaner and some other odds and ends.

The front two are better reached from the front under the hood, but if you have an air conditioning compressor it’ll be in the way next to the engine-mounted fuel filter bracket so you can’t reach behind it – Murdervan does not have air conditioning, but Spool Bus did.

Yes, this frontmost on the driver’s side is particularly dumb to reach. So find a manlet with small arms to reach up from the driver’s seat.

I was told that if they are damaged, they could be difficult to remove because the tips tend to deform. In the worst case, they could break off inside the chamber, then you’re kind of boned. Tactics include gentle wiggling back and forth to either squeeze carbon build-up off the tip or to slowly forge it back into shape with the help of penetrating oil.

Luckily, all eight extricated fine, except one which required mild coercion. Also, the passenger-side front plug was cross-threaded, so somebody’s been in here before and just sent it.

Before I put the new ones back in, I thoroughly brake cleaner’d the area around the socket as they tend to get filthy, and then gave each plug thread some copper anti-seize grease

Current test time! With the circuit fully wired up, I was going to keep an eye on the inrush current and final settling current after 10 seconds. The “Pliers of Oh Crap” are there just in case, to cut the main battery feeder line.

The current began at around 280 amps and quickly settled to a steady state of 100. I think we’re successful here #ThatAintGoingAnywhere.

With glow plugs now active, Murdervan could achieve a cold start (well, “Cold” meaning 60 something degrees in the early summer morning) right around 10 seconds of huffing and puffing, after I manually connect the alligator clip for 10 seconds and let go. While not brand-new great, friends surmised now there was nothing wrong except an aerating fuel fitting somewhere, which is one of those things you can drag your feet on if you’re patient and pack a spare starter.

With that all said and done, I crammed everything back in, hung the alligator clips out of the doghouse, ripped the inaugural burnout in the street, and took it around the block.

The marks are still there as of this writing in 2021.

First impressions: This thing is slow. I was warned that the IDI, descended from the finest American tractors, is legendarily slow. I had no idea that Mikuvan could handily take this thing in a race. Once third gear in the C6 transmission is done and the engine’s now pretty much redlining, you’re going a healthy…. 60 or so. 65?

After the around-the-block run, I decided to, you know, put license plates on it before taking it any further. It wears the disguise as Vantruck quite well, because who is going to tell one crusty white Ford work van from another without reading the VIN off the door?

First fuel-up probably in a long time showed that the fuel gauge was functional and did read reasonably accurate. I then took it on the usual “Maiden Voyage of Collecting Your Own Parts”.

I will say that it’s rather empowering to have a vehicle that is practically indestructible and will be sold to sentient cockroaches to use as a sentient-cockroach-church bus after Trump [This joke is now outdated, but pretend it’s June] fires off all of our nukes at the same time for the 4th of July.

The upside of blazing down the interstate (… at 55mph?) is I got everything actually warmed up. When I say “warmed up” idling in the yard, I mean the temperature gauge just barely creaks off “C”. But after my roughly 35 mile parts-collecting, curb-jumping, burnout-doing adventure, it’s nice to see the temperature gauge right where it should be.

Besides little annoyances, then, it seems like Murdervan is in good running order now. There’s a favorite railroad crossing jump of mine several miles away that I decided to use as a “Shake It Off” test to see if anything was particularly loose or about to fall off. As nothing was left behind in the road, it’s time to continue on the quest of “less-shittification”.

One of the first operations? Replacing the damaged battery ground cable. By now, my 2/0 replacement cable had arrived. I decided to route it a little more sensibly, up close to the front radiator support and toward the front quarter panel. I made sure to clean up the old ground lug hole with a wire brush, then sealed this bolted connection with a good quantity of silicone dielectric grease.

While I was underneath, I gave the same treatment to the right-side (undamaged) ground lug, to make the connection more secure.

The new auxiliary battery’s ground cable snakes downwards right in front of the radiator support and makes the jump across away from any adventurous power steering belts.

In a “I already have my tools out” fix the same night, I reattached the parking brake assembly which had been limply hanging, causing the parking brake to not be useful.

I’m a evangelical parking brake user, as I grew up and learned to drive while living in a house on a steep hill, and the Trap House itself has a upward sloping driveway. So my instinct is parking brake every time, and I might have been the cause of a one or two seized parking brakes before from driving other people’s ambulatory piles who have never otherwise used the parking brake (heathens) and I mashed all the rusted and grimy parts into each other instantly.

Seems like some previous meathead stripped one of the mounting holes, so I drilled the hole out (under the dashboard, above the release pull here) and used some left over Vantruck giant 1/4″ thread-forming screws to secure the bracket.

The next day, I remembered that I removed the bumper from Vantruck after it got hit for the 197th time in March. The bumper itself wasn’t damaged except for curling on one corner, so I decided the best course of action was to mount it to Murdevan (directly, this time, without extension brackets!) and start hitting it with a 15 pound sledgehammer.

That’s straight enough. It’s as straight as the rest of the van, and I think the mild kinks and dents left blend in with the rest of the doomdriving aesthetic.

Honestly, there’s not too much to report left on Murdervan after this. I dove into the dashboard one more time to repair some annoying electrical faults, so stay tuned for that!

And We’re Back In Business! An Equals Zero Return to Form, or So I Hope

chorl7 Comments

After much ado about a whole lot of things, this site is now at least in a working state where all my information is accessible… even if it doesn’t look quite all aligned, all my plugins are missing, things might not be in the right place, and so on. This website is still a van, just a newer one.

By the way, I noticed all of your 63 emails asking what happened to the site! Hell, I didn’t know people still had the patience to read blog posts in this era of Youtube subscriptions and TikTok follows. A lot of valuable info resides here, so I definitely had the incentive to get everything running again, just a matter of willpower (This will be a theme for this post…)

So I had to relearn a lot of “Internet Stuff” since the last real revamp of the site from 2009. The biggest challenge ended up being re-importing the database which actually dates back to 2007 (the earliest posts on this site now), which is why this site was a potato dealership for a few days.

First, I had trouble importing the 200-something megabyte database dump, and it took several retries in different browsers and different times of day. Not only that, but fancy hax0r Charles of 2006 named all of his WordPress databases fancy names, so the new WordPress install didn’t know ass from teakettle. Next, because all of my domains are now unified on one hosting account (Equals Zero Designs and Marconi Motors), I had to connect all the subdomain dots. I’ve also never seen cPanel in my life, despite it being available back then also – I did pretty much all of the setup and back end work through FTP and phpMyAdmin directly, so there was just button clicking to learn.

I’m still going from theme to theme, so the immediate appearance of this site might change in the next few days. I’m trying to keep it a dark and easily browsable theme. The one I have as of 1/11 also has a banner image like the previous rendition, but I haven’t reuploaded those yet. It also has a bad habit of displaying the past few posts all together making the front page infinitely long, and I have yet to find the setting for breaking it up into previews only! I also still need to get used to the visual editor that WordPress ships with now – I’m not a fan of it so far, since it’s more of a walled garden experience and it’s a little harder to use my historic file and photo structure. But alas, welcome to the Internet of Today.

Anyways, after all of my makeshift database adminning, here we are again – I’m sure I’ll make a post like this again in another 11-14 years. All of the old posts should be there, but I have not (and will not) check them for layout or importation mishaps, as I consider those pretty much static archives at this point. Look, my van posts are here for my own reference and that’s all that matters.

So! Onto the new content. Besides now the Summer of Ven and Overhaul 3 Design & Build series posts I need to backfill, there’s some new stuff in the pipeline because I will somehow always find new vans to work on. I’ll just add this to the “List of Things I Still Have To Blog About”. Here’s the short story of, I dunno, since late September or thereabouts.

dromes

You know what? I miss having my own drone. I keep working on everyone else’s drones, but I haven’t had one truly of my own since all the way back in the Tinycopter days. Back then, I had the audacity to code my own flight controller, but these days most of my work is integrating Arducopter and PX4, flight controller firmwares that are….. less haphazardly put together. With safety and what not. Somehow I’ve built dromes for many entities since then, including KIWI of course, and my current place of employ, but what measure is a drome engineer if he doesn’t have any of his own?

And so I went to pray at the Altar of Lord Bezos and visited the Oracle of Jack Ma. You know the adage “Buy right, or buy twice”? My take it on it is “Why buy right when you can buy very specifically wrong and buy a lot?” It’s like getting a 0 on the SAT, since you have to answer every question incorrectly and can’t just shotgun it at random. You have to specifically know what not to buy, so your pile of parts has a minimal chance of cooperating, maximizing your chances of failure but forcing an exploration of the tradespace into places no sensible engineer would touch. Long time readers will understand this is my M.O. for everything – I know what to do, so why do it when you can try something dumb since nothing matters and we’re all going to hell anyway?

As such, crafted out of a tote of deprecated KIWI parts and my robot electronics bins, helped along by some deconstructed Seg-baby packs dating back to 2015 (RIP seg-thing), and with the blessing of the lowest-priced drone parts AliExpress could provide, I present Trashcopter:

The least fine drome that money can maybe buy!

This thing is…. a drone. There’s nothing special about it. I just wanted a beater drone to fly when I felt like it. It works fine, I went through the usual setup and tuning and fine craftsmanship associated with putting a kit drone together, and it is still in one piece as of this writing. It can fly autonomous missions, take off and land itself, follow terrains and avoid (large, visible to IR light) objects, and do a barrel roll in mid-air once. (Okay, it was for a brief couple of hours not in one piece). It ain’t a Skydio II, it’s basically a potato someone threw very hard, very controllably.

I explored the sub-basement steam room of drone parts on this build by purposefully trying to sort by price lowest and free shipping. What I found is an entire under the fallen log ecosystem of used drone parts, selling motors and ESCs and subassemblies for $1-$5 apiece. As expected, I now own like 50 motors pulled from XiaoMi drones, and the ESCs that go with them.

The frame is the cheapest, most terrible DJI FlameWheel knockoff I could find. The finish is so ratchet that I had to deburr everything before using it (and correct some of the heatset insert work, and open up some of the PCB chassis plate holes…), but I also now have 6 frames worth of questionably molded nylon arms. I mean you should see the sink marks on these arms. What I’m saying is, I can build as many terrible drones as I feel like now, for less than the cost of getting parts stateside for one single functional unit.

I furthermore went shopping for the crappiest radio I could find – the “Can I find something even cheaper than the 4 channel HobbyKing 2.4Ghz radio?” and that result is sitting next to it, the “MicroZone MC6” series. Like Trashcopter, it is “An Radio”. It has all the right shapes and tchotchkes in the right places, and Doesn’t Not Work. Hell, it’s even 6 (secretly 7) channels.

The build report for this guy will expound more on the process I took to get the parts, exploring some of the parts themselves including taking apart the cheapo radio, and just generally show the setup of a modern-day Pixhawk and Arducopter based multirotor from end to end for posterity.

But that’s not all.

I hinted in the original Robot Trap House post that I had unfinished business in the sector of Very Lörge Dromes that I still wanted to explore and develop, but which wasn’t relevant to the KIWI business needs at the time. One of these in particular is my strong belief that the “One motor per prop” multirotor architecture doesn’t really scale to large, flying van levels. You CAN make it work, and many companies have, often at great expense of either buying or developing cutting-edge custom motors and materials for airframe and propellers.

That clashed with my general philosophy of “Don’t custom unless you want to make a project out of the custom thing”, and consequently the direction of KIWI, where every aerospace engineer we tried to hire dropped to the floor and foamed at the mouth as soon as they witnessed our extremely BattleBot-like building approach: COTS and easy sheet metal and extrusion weldments.

The magic sauce to me when it comes to electromechanical hardware startups lies not in exotic in-house cooked and served materials and genetically-evolved one-piece structures, but getting out into the field with a working, reliable robot in front of the customer and a practiced means of getting there many times. I’m a bad CTO – I don’t like technology.

So how do I aim to demonstrate an alternative? Well, I reached just a little bit back into history, like a few years, into the domain of the Variable-Pitch Multirotor. Also called “Heliquads” or “Collective Pitch Multirotors”, they trade a little bit of mechanical complexity (The collective-only rotor head) for, in my soon-qualifiable opinion, a broad increase in the maneuverability space and control bandwidth.

My still-in-progress entry into this design tradespace will be what I affectionately named “Wigglecopter“:

Yes, that is my dinner table. No, nobody ever comes over.

In short, for a minor increase in thrust for vehicle attitude correction, a conventional multirotor has to spin up and down the propellers. Your torque to inertia proportions really, REALLY matter. Everything needs to be as light as have as little MOI as possible, and your motors need to be as torque dense as possible, to get a high enough control loop bandwidth to keep the vehicle stable.

Conversely a VPM/CPM can issue corrections by adjusting the pitch of its propellers. Single-degree movements will induce variations in thrust corresponding to possibly hundreds of RPM of motor speed. There is a lot of literature in the advanced aerospace controls scene pertaining to these, and I’ll collate and dive into a few papers I’ve taken a liking to in its build reports.

I actually tried to buy one of these, as they were sold for a while in the Early Teenies by a few hobby vendors with models such as the HobbyKing Reaper 450, WLToys V383, and the CJY Stinger 500. They’ve pretty much all died out, so instead of hunting around for used or new-old ones, I decided the mechanical problem was simple enough to just put together and get the point across.

If you look closely, Wigglecopter is just made from the same pile of garbage that Trashcopter emerged from. I just ordered a few DJI F450 quad frame cards from Amazon to make it a quad, and had to gently re-engineer the motors to accept the collective pitch mechanism and propellers. I’m going to put some more legitimate gear into this thing from the flight control and sensing side, as I’d like for it to be a development platform.

Notice that it still does have four independent motors? Well, you can still do that with a CPM, provided you now keep the motor speed constant so your thrust output is not a multivariate surface of sagging motor speed and flexible propeller blades…. just one of them, as much as possible. I decided trying to make a serpentine belt drive was just going too hard the first time out, and will just bypass this issue with inertia rings pressed onto the motors if need be, and with the ESCs set to speed govern. We’ll see what it does!

My LTE plan for Wigglecopter is to finish and validate it, then start getting larger and larger. I’m going to need to modify the firmware a little for myself, as I would like to make a collective-pitch Hex and Octo down the line. Wigglecopter itself should be all done and ready this spring, and its bloodline is completely unplanned except for daydreaming of lifting Kei vans in the air.

Overhaul 1 Restoration

A very exciting new development in my life is that I now have Overhaul 1 in my possession again. In November, I made a speedrun up to Boston to collect the remainder of the several hundred pounds of life I left in the ol’ vape shop. At this point, I was able to extract Overhaul 1 from its dormant state. For the past few weeks, I’ve been going through it (there’s not much, mind you) and getting it back in running order.

There’s no intention of putting it back in battle except a few token matches with Sadbot, Overhaul 2, and Overhaul 3. Yes, somehow I will soon have four operational heavyweight Battlebots. It’s like vans, they just keep spawning. Everyone I know agrees that it would be incredibly funny if Overhaul 3 loses to every preceding generation of Overhaul. I mean, it’s never won against Sadbot, so this is a distinct possibility.

I designed up a retrofit for the drive motors on the shuffle pods, implementing a design idea we should have done but didn’t have the time to execute. Right now, the electronics bay is a small plastic tote bungee-corded to the frame, but I’m going to design up an integrated battery case and electronics deck so I can close it up. It won’t be as (unnecessarily) fast as it was before, as as a bot I’ll probably reserve for demos and showings only, doesn’t need to be anyway.

I also had to straighten out a lot of bent parts. You know what – my adventures in Big Chuck’s Auto Body came home to roost. There were a lot of fun rednecky processes involved in straightening the welded unibody-ish frame and the pointy plow.

So, hopefully Overhaul 1’s “Rebuild Report” will just read like one of my many other hundreds of “I fixed this stupid thing that broke because I was stupid to begin with” titles.

all of the ven are piles

As of right now, my entire treasure fleet is in disarray. While everybody runs and drives, I wouldn’t characterize any as “particularly competent”. It’s winter, and they’re not in danger of being towed or fined for the first time, so in a way this little return to form with me building robots again has been at the expense of the ven.

Why are they so derelict? Well, I think in part it’s due to me continually throwing them up and down mountains.

Now that I’m only about 3 to 4 hours from the very vannable mountain roads of northern Georgia and the North Carolina/Tennessee border, it means I go…

I’m the width of the road, I’m the width of the road, I’m the wiGET BACK IN YOUR LANE NOW

…all…

Look at that inside-front liftoff. Rear sway bar time?

…the time

I do think at least once every month so far I’ve ended up somewhere in the area with vehicles nobody expects to ever witness in general, much less on a mountain. I’ve gone with groups (typically composed of SPROTS CARS) and when I damn felt like it.

The downside is obviously that the exercise is very strenuous for tired old ven. Here’s the lockout tag captions for everything as it stands:

Mikuvan

  • The entire exhaust path from the axle-clearing bend back fell off in late May when I was on the Tail of the Dragon. Yes, fell off. As in the person behind me had to dodge it. Straight-piping 3 hours home was hilarious, albeit dissatisfactory for hearing longevity. I replaced the exhaust in my first fully welded/fabricated custom exhaust job in June. In fact, look at it ratchet strapped to the roof rack above, as a victory trophy.
  • Complete front brake caliper and rotor replacement in November – it’s had one mildly dragging caliper for a while, and it was tolerable until some amount of smashing on the mountain caused it to seize even more.
  • Now it’s slowly leaking brake fluid from the master cylinder/booster assembly – while it stops fine, the fluid loss is gradual and both faster than I’m comfortable with and want to deal with the mess.
  • The power steering pump is now making absolutely terrific sounds and leaking at the shaft seal, so it’ll be on the chopping block for replacement.
  • There is a cable harness that the cruise control computer intercepts the transmission overdrive solenoid with which has failing pins. This has manifested in sporadic loss of 4th gear, meaning I’m either going 55mph tops or absolutely revving it flat out to hit 70. A kick or tug on the harness will often resolve it – I’ve tried various methods of biasing and restraining the connector pigtail over the past year or so, but outright repair/bypass is now a necessity because it’s getting too annoying.

Vantruck

  • Developed either a misfire or bad exhaust leak from the right cylinder bank, so while it will drive fine, it sure sounds like an old rattly diesel when it isn’t one (yet…). I’ll need to do a full heuristic debug before commenting on it more – it got worse lately as the weather cooled down.
  • It’s recently began emitting blue smoke out the exhaust intermittently. I’d attribute this solely to something like worn/crispy valve stem seals or sticky piston rings, but what was more worrisome is that the oil pressure gauge began to not register pressure. Now, in this era of Ferd, the oil pressure gauge appears to be a fake one – really an on-off scenario. I haven’t correlated the two symptoms by physically measuring the oil pressure yet, and really cannot say I’ve paid enough attention to said pressure gauge in months past for it to even have been symptomatic of anything. It could be a coincidence. Either way, out of an abundance of caution, I haven’t been driving Vantruck around the past few weeks.
  • Rear drum brakes have something going on, probably just excessive wear. If I set the parking brake, the rear brakes will drag for a while after releasing them. If I brake in reverse, then drive and brake forward, there’s a palpable clunk as something with just a bit too much slop pops back into position. Sounds straightforward, just willpower-limited for dissection.

Spool Bus

  • It came with a diesel leak around the left bank of injectors – old and crispy return line fittings, and the cold weather has made it worse to the point where I’d prefer not to drive it. Less due to the fire hazard and more because it stanks of diesel, costs me money by leaking it out, and is rude to others for leaving dribbles on the road. Willpower-limited repair, as I have the fittings and hoses sitting in it right this minute.
  • Thrashing about the mountains has caused a power steering system leak. I haven’t dug into it to find out where from, but it’s actually not from the gearbox itself this time (a known failure mode of many a Ford truck), so it’s probably a stiff hose or loose fitting. In fact, I had to abandon a day on US Route 129 a few months ago because the power steering leak became dramatically worse all of a sudden, a small puddle per power cycle. Luckily, the system was filled with transmission fluid and I had a quart to keep topping it off on the trip home.

You notice it’s all turning and stopping related problems, more or less? Well, in order to not fly off the side of a mountain, it’s imperative that you be able to turn and slow down. Vans, while imperfect at this, can be coerced into doing so somewhat gracefully, but they’ll only put up with it for so long.

Oh, yeah, where’s Murdervan? Spoiler alert – I sold it back in September after shoring everything up nicely and writing a Facebook ad that, in light of current events might get me Investigated. It was sold locally in-town to someone who seemed enthusiastic and knowledgeable of old Ferd diesel trucks, and will join a small business fleet that does urban gardening and landscaping work. A very fitting end to its brief story with me, as it was always just too normal for my misfits. I’m sure I’ll see it around the city more!

So there’s also a lot of Ven to write up, besides the Summer of Ven series itself. I better get used to loving this keyboard and its probable timely successor once the keys start falling off.

Cute little robots

A few weeks ago, I was skulking around knick knack stores in the farthest reaches of Georgia (my latest habit, finally checking out all those antique and flea markets I keep blasting by on the way back and forth from the Smokies and Blue Ridge). A lot of these stores have vintage tools and hardware, which I enjoy perusing. However, at one of them, I found this little guy:

That, if you’re not familiar, is a Dr. Inferno Jr. Well, not really. It’s a Tomy Omnibot, a little robot toy of the 1980s that was probably pretty badass for its time, being programmable via cassette tape and all.

Needless to say, I made off with it because hey, it has some relation to BattleBots history as well as the history of programmable smart toys. It was in good physical condition, though the proprietors said they couldn’t locate the remote control at the time but would keep mining their stocks for it.

Without the OEM remote, it seems rather static based on my research, and so I decided to perform a unique restomod. I’d do a mechanical repair and restoration to get it in driveable first, but I had an element I wanted to add.

That is an old Futaba T4NL Conquest I got for free at some Swapfest at MIT many moons ago, and have just had sitting in one of my Electronics Mystery Abyss totes since. What better to control your 80s robot with than an 80s radio!

What you can’t see from the outside is the MicroZone MC6 transmitter that I organ-swapped into the T4NL. Yup, I done did it – a restomod of the transmitter with a modern day, albeit potato, 2.4G computer radio. This was a fun adventure, and I think I approached it in a unique (but harder) way than just tapping the PPM summation point and feeding it into a 2.4G radio module. I fully embedded the MC6 using the original Futaba gimbals, added the MC6 servo reverser switches to the back side, and wired in new switches to turn the 4 channel T4NL into a full fledged 7-channel radio.

And of course, this photo of my 80s robot that I drove around with my 80s R/C radio was taken at a car show I took my 80s van to. This, as I called it on the Facesphere, is #Radwoodbait for whenever those shows come back up.

I’d definitely love to write up the whole restomod of both the Omnibot and the Conquest T4NL radio, because it was just a fun distraction project over the holidays when everything was closed and I didn’t feel like going outside.

Remember, even while I’ve refrained from fixing this web-van (HEHEHE WEBVAN) up to post content, I’ve been taking my usual excessive amount of photos of every step or interesting happening. The content exists, I just have to find the willpower to write it up – and I hope finally having the damn site operational again will motivate it.

Also, I have so much to remember what I named “Potato”…starting with the title of this site. I’ll take care of it soon, I promise.

robots