The Bench Racers Journal

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 36

Before dinner, I rode my bicycle up to the Skillerns drug store. They had just called and informed me the pictures had been developed. So come get them. Now I can use pictures to enhance this story. Hope you enjoy them. I will go back and add some of these as I figure where they need to go.

Before, I would just mail the film to Kodak directly, but sometimes would take forever. Thru Skillerns, it usually takes less than a week. Amazing how fast they get stuff done these days. There is also no postage this way. It costs forty two cents with tax and I am a happy camper.

The first few batches had a lot of fuzzies and at odd angles, but lately they are looking more like a professional job. I mean really, how hard can it be to take good pictures? Hold the camera steady, look thru the view finder and say cheese. Then push down the shutter release. For pictures of the karts progress, I probably dont even have to say cheese.

When I first started taking pictures....Well they were not that good. Actually I wouldnt call them pictures.  I didnt understand what was going wrong. Except the picture didnt look like what I had envisioned in my head. Of the first two rolls of film, there was really only one picture that turned out. Well, turned out like a picture. It was taken completely by accident.

Thanksgiving last fall was a nice crisp and cool day. We were all together at moms parents house. The house that my grandfather had built by himself. He had recently declared the house was now completely finished. We were doing Thanksgiving with a lot of family, friends and neighbors. Some had worked at the sign shop, and here with family too.

I had been carrying my camera around, and planned to take a picture of everyone gathered today. There was only one shot left on the film, so had to make it good. I was holding the camera and practicing how to keep it steady for the perfect picture. Walking across the front yard, wasnt really paying attention and had stumbled.

My finger was on the shutter release just like when actual picture would be taken. Well as I tripped up, accidentally depressed the shutter. I was so mad at myself. Almost to the point of ruining the whole day. This was the last picture on my only roll of film. Little did I know how well this one picture turned out.



Later at Christmas time several of the family had asked how my picture taking was coming along. I showed them some of the ones I tried to make perfect. But none of them really were anything special or had potential. But everyone kept telling me how good one particular picture was. Really the only picture anyone commented on.

They thought it showed how natural looking and not posed like so many do. It showed great promise and to keep up with it. Stick with the casual approach and not try to make them perfect. Because a picture rarely ends that way.

So the only decent picture is one taken completely by accident. The day was still early and people were just starting to arrive. My plan had been for a group shot. At least that was the intended picture. I wasnt even trying to focus on something. Just practicing holding the camera correctly. I tripped up while walking and accidentally snapped the shot. Bah!

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 37

So far I have captured some pictures of the Cates reconstruction. Unfortunately I didnt think to get a before pic. Or that would really be an after pic. After I tore the frame up trying to make it fly in the little incident. But a couple of months ago it wasnt my kart yet either.

That first Sunday of spring break, is when Steve surprised me with something covered over with a tarp. He pulled it away and exposed this pile of carnage. What could have made for a perfect before picture. The pile of rubble sitting there did not look recognizable especially as kart or even like something that could be salvaged.  It actually looked more like the skeletal remains of some wild animal you sometimes find out in the woods.

I picked up a Kodak Browine Hawkwye at a garage sale Ms. Tally was having one weekend last fall. She has to be pushing close to a hundred years old. But just as nice of a lady you would ever meet. Her husband had died a long time ago. Might have been before I was even born. Since then she has been living by herself on the next street over all this time. I dont even know if she has any family at all. Well she wanted fifty cents for the camera. That took most of the money in my pocket.

I have been mowing her yard for years now. She has always been fair on what I was paid. So no reason to try and beat her down on price. This is way less than cost of a new one. It is even a later model with provisions for a flash. Several people have told me the newer Kodak Starmatic is a much better camera. But for me this one is working just fine. I read in a magazine that color film is available. Unfortunately way more expensive than I can afford.

With this camera my plan is now to keep track of the work done on any projects I get involved with. Maybe try to update with pictures showing the progress made on this Cates kart too. The pictures may be delayed since I have to get them developed first. Or might just put it off until I get them back from the drug store. There is a decent break on price if more than 3 rolls getting developed together. So this way it will save me about a quarter. But that means holding on to several rolls of film for a while.

When I got back home from the drug store, my June issue of Karting World had finally arrived. It must have come earlier and I didnt bother to ask or check the mail box. Maybe just distracted by Steves visit. I am so stoked now. It has a complete write up on modifying the Clinton A-490. This could not have worked out any better. What a perfect time to go ahead and tear apart the engine and make sure it is in good working order. You know just in case. And while it is already apart....well why not?



Since going on my head earlier this spring with the kart, I dont really know how well the engine fared. I wonder if Steve has any argument about modifying this engine. If not for him, I wouldnt have this kart at all. Maybe we can vote on what to do with the engine and majority wins.

Just thinking right now it has been over two months. School is out for summer and the kart is just sitting in the garage. We havent even tried to fire up the engine this whole time. That is not like me at all. You get the bug and nothing will stop it. Small engines around here either get run or torn apart. That is the rules.

I made it back from Skillerns just before everyone was sitting down to eat. A good home cooked meal is the hot ticket tonight. I am still tired from working this week. Not really sore tired now, but mentally drained. Like I had to give up a part of my life in exchange to do other things I really wanted. Give and take. Maybe turn in early tonight. But first I want to look over all of these new pictures.

Drivers are standing opposite the starting grid waiting for flag to drop. All of the karts are lined up on the grid for a Le Mans style start. In just a moment after the green flag drops, engines will revving up and karts taking off from the line and race down the track. Smoke will be filling the air. That sweet smell of castor oil topping off the very essence of racing. I have everything worked out with the pit crew. Well Steve anyway. He is to start the kart, just soon as I drop down in the seat. Then nail the gas pedal and take off. Right now just focusing on the flagman and holding here until he drops the flag to signal start of the race.

Wet, cold and wet. Why is my forehead getting wet? Its raining? No, NO! The race is about to start. It cant start raining. I am here. The kart is finally together and looks great. The flagman is standing there ready to drop the green and then the race is on. But its cold and wet! It cant be raining. Not today!  

Something cold and wet. What the...? I open my eyes and Steve is spitting some cold water out between his teeth on my forehead. I jump up and swing my fist around aiming at his head. He yells, Woh there cowboy!, while swerving out of arms length missing my swing. The whole time laughing at me.

Hey man! I have been nudging you for like five minutes now. You were just laying there like a total zombie. Huh? I was asleep? Was that just a dream? No no it couldnt be, it seemed, no it was so real. Wow, what time is it? Steve says it was pushing about 10:30.

Dream? Yea that sounds right. You were doing some really serious deep sleeping there just now. Your eyes were like rolling around all over the place. Like enough to wear right thru your eyelids. Even a little bit of drool going on there too. Yuk! I bet you were dreaming about Becky Folsom. Haha! You were dreaming about Becky! You know she has a huge crush on you. Whats up with that anyway? She must be blind or just have no taste in guys.

Dude, seriously, sometimes you sure can get on my nerves! Not sometimes, all the time! Shut up already! No I wasnt dreaming about Becky. She dont have no crush on me. Besides she always acts so stuckup when I try to talk to her. Sooooo, you...you...do.....like her! I knew it. I was right. Steve shut up, enough with it already!

Anyway, I dunno, guess I must have been really tired. I remember going over some of these pictures. I dont even remember laying down. Hey! What the heck are you doing here? Steve had been standing in my room this whole time with a sleeping bag and duffel bag under his arms.

Thought you wanted me to spend the night? So here I am. Do you want me just to go back home? Well I didnt hear back and just figured.....Terry,......Terry, something really strange happened tonight. Steve just drops all of his stuff on the floor. Then sits down on the bed right next to me.

He is just sitting there with hands folded in his lap, looking down at the floor. First having Steve show up this late, is really odd. Like not ever. Especially without calling and letting me know ahead of time. I wonder whats up with him? You have known someone long enough to see a very common pattern. One that remains mostly consistent. But this breaks all those rules.

In a really quite solemn voice he starts telling me whats up. First he looks all around, then big wide eyes on me. Not all the way creepy yet, but just enough to get my undivided attention. Almost like being out on a camping trip with a bunch of us huddled around the fire late at night. Each taking turns telling spooky stories while holding a flashlight up to our face. But this time he was being dead serious.

So, dad had worked late again tonight and just got home a little while ago. I mean like minutes ago. Right before I got here. You know that big cabinet project he has been doing for the last few weeks? Yea, you told me he has been working a bunch of extra hours every night. Yes, that one. He has been working late almost everyday for weeks.

Well as of tonight that job is finished. Dad came home in unbelievably good spirits. His eyes looked really tired, but he was in a great mood. I have not seen him this way, well long as I can remember. For some reason, yet to be explained, seemed to really make mom extremely happy too. So, that is when I thought might be a good time to pop the question about coming over tonight.

She didnt even take her eyes off dad. She said, "Sure no problem! Dont you boys have a secret project you need to work on? Why dont you boys put some effort into it. If its alright, why dont you go ahead and spend the weekend. That way you two can get a lot of work done or maybe even finished. You know whatever that is so important you discuss all the time on the phone. What do you call it? A GOLFCAR? Yes thats a great idea. You have been stuck at home all week, go have some fun this weekend."

So just like that mom ditches me. She almost acted like I belonged to somebody else. Kinda weird. You know her well enough. This is not her normal behavior. Not at all. Strange to think about it. Real scary if you think too much. Now it gets worse. Or better. Dad takes his focus off mom just for a moment and opens his wallet. You know how rare that ever happens. Like never...ever. He hands me a 10 dollar bill. This very one right here.

Steve had pulled the bill out of his shirt pocket and now pops it a few times holding it between his finger tips. Then he tells me make sure not to be a burden on your parents. Or else, if you know what I mean. So try to behave and have fun. I cant believe I just got sold out by my parents for only $10. I got sold for a measly $10 bill. Do you know how cheap that makes me feel? Gee, Alexander Hamilton wasnt even a president.

I am sorry Steve. Didnt know it would upset you so much. Maybe they just need some time to themselves. How often do they ever go do stuff without you or your sisters? Every parent has to get tired of their kids being around all the time. At least once and a while. Makes sense doesnt it?

No, no no! You dont get it Terry. You are missing the big opportunity, just like I did. If I would have been a little sharper thinking... You know, on my toes, put my game face on, as they say...I bet I could have gotten $20 out of them. Maybe I should have mentioned about some parts I was needing really badly. Trying to figure out how to buy them and then might finally get a lot farther along on the kart. But no. I was bribed and conceded for a mere $10. That is so lame.

Dude! Steve, you are terrible! I couldnt ever take advantage of my parents like that. Thats horrible. Yea whatever. But I might have been a terrible $20 bucks richer too. Steve says this whispering, looking deep into my eyes with an evil smirk, that might even make the devil blush a little bit.

I havent ever seen mom act this way. I mean never! For longer than I can remember. Dad wanted to celebrate and is taking her out to dinner. I guess they really need some alone time. If you know what I mean. Steve now returns back to his normal loud speaking voice and says, "So looks like you are stuck with me for the weekend. Wanna go set up the tent out back? Or put it up in the woods for a creep out night?"

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 38

So are we going to camp out or not? Hey, what are all these pictures here on your desk? Some of them are good. Man, who tried to take the other ones. A drunk person? They are really bad. This one picture is nothing but a blur? But a blur of what? Too blurred to tell of what. Haha. You could name it "Passing wind" or "Bean fart".

Maybe you should start writing a book Terry. Or at least keeping a good record of everything we are doing to the kart. Then use these pictures to document the work we have done. Well not these particular pictures. Some that are actually decent. You know, add captions with specific details. Are you following me on this Terry?

I see a good thing coming out of it. Maybe even a Nobel prize. Steve I think what you mean is a Pulitzer Prize. Steve starts laughing his butt off, then losing ba1ance, when I kick him with my foot on back of his knee. Then he trips and collapses on my bed.

No, but seriously, you should keep notes on everything we are doing. It will help when we finally get another kart going together. No reason for YOU to keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Right? I mean what better way for us to become successful kart designers and running a big manufacturing plant in a few years or some day?

Hey Steve, I have a much better idea than that one. How about I start a business specializing in very limited production karts that are in extremely high demand. Sell those for a big profit. Sounds way better than mass producing a whole mess of karts that barely sell for little more than cost.

And I will even do you a huge favor. I will hire you to be outside sales manager. Then you can travel all over the country peddling these highly overpriced karts to only a choice few people. Just sell to ones that are really good drivers and can go to a lot of the bigger races during the season. Then you can be out of my hair and not here annoying me so much all the time.

Gee, man, you know how much that hurts? Coming from you especially. Almost like you dont even want me around anymore. Steve started sounding really depressed and looking pathetic. I got quiet for a moment and thought about apologizing. He knows I am just yanking his chain anyway. Then Steve just busts out laughing. I got you, I really got you this time. I got you good!. Tell me I am wrong! You should have seen the look on your face. Priceless! Wheres that stupid camera of yours?

It was now close to 11 pm now. I told Steve we needed to make a run to 7-11 before it closed. He reminded me it was already after curfew. So? I said. Lets go then, like right now. I tried out Mountain Dew a short time ago. Really like the taste. Coke just doesnt do it for me and Dr Pepper is so-so. But mom refused to buy it for some reason. She said we had no business keeping sodas made for mixing adult drinks. It was not allowed in this house. I argued that is just a soft drink. She replied in no uncertain terms, she is not keeping it around in this house and that was final.

Even tho it was already after curfew, I really wanted that Mountain Dew. I dont know if its the sugar content or what. But sure does get me pumped up. Almost like an adrenaline rush. Whatever, it is super addictive to me. Me and Steve sneak out, run up the alley and cross the street to 7-11. Considering the amount of noise we were making it was anything but being sneaky. Neighbors dogs and even some chickens were carrying on from our passing by. Mr Foster is there, as I expected, since only working nights. He gives us the usual scowl and that one squinted evil eye. I told him we were only grabbing a drink and then right back on our way home. He just grumbled out barely legible, "Damdid kidsn....."

I grabbed two Mountain Dews, and large bag of M&M's. Steve picks up the usual Coke. Says he will share the M's with me. Oh yea thanks a lot. I payed for everything anyway. On the way back I asked Steve what happened to that $10 bill? What? Do you think I am going to waste it on junk food? Ugh uh, no way. We might need something important for the kart. Then what? Terry, sometimes you just dont use your head.

After a few minutes discussing with my parents, we go to set the tent up in the woods. Basically just across the street. Some trails had been cut for bikes and there is a creek running thru it. But real thick with trees. Steve grabbed the tent and headed over to set it up. We ended up just horsing around. Got into a super mud fight down in the creek. After about 30 minutes of burning off excess energy, we got back working on that tent.

Wouldnt you figure, as we were hammering stakes in the ground, the sky just let go. It had been getting cloudy, but didnt smell like any real chance of rain. The weatherman said only a 10% chance this evening. Maybe we should have chosen to pitch the tent in that other 90% forecast area. We grab everything and start running. There really was no reason to hurry up. The rain was coming down so fast and hard now, we were drenched before getting the first stake pulled up.

The massive rain that fell was really a blessing. We didnt think through very well getting so muddy in the fight earlier. But it had started drying out by now. Fortunately ended up getting a good rain shower and most of that mud was completely gone by the time everything was collected and we made it back home. Both of us now are soaked to the bone. The night was fairly warm and didnt take too long before we were no longer leaving puddles every time when standing still for a moment. Dry enough to deal with it for now.

During all this excitement, my lack of motivation from earlier had subsided. Now I felt wide awake. The couple of Dr Peppers I drank down earlier may have contributed somewhat too. We ended up back in the garage. I hollered to mom and dad and let them know we were back. For now, looks like we would be hanging out here for a while.

Both of us had worked up a good appetite from all the excitement tonight, so I sneak in the house and raided the fridge. Just some left over fried chicken and potato salad. But was enough to curb the hunger pains. Mom did mention earlier it was there just in case we got hungry. My growing boys, you know. Back out to the garage I went carrying the food, since both of us were still wet.

While washing down the last of that cold chicken with a Mountain Dew, I handed Steve the June issue of Karting World magazine. It just happened to be open to the page on how to hop up a Clinton. After he scanned it a few minutes, I got a strange look from him. More a look of concession. One argument that would not be worth the time and effort to him. So, we are going to hotrod the Clinton now?



In the most innocent sounding voice I could muster, "Hey Steve, thats the best idea you have ever had. I havent really given it any thought before now. Why not? I think it would be way cool to do." The look on Steves face was anything but belief. As usual he can see right thru me very well.

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 39

We spent most of the night just bench racing. Something we are better at doing since neither of us have yet to be in a real race. But that time is coming. Hopefully sooner than later. We have the basics. Just a little more work and maybe a trial run on the kart. Then is could happen for real.

We continued discussing about how much work should be done to the Clinton. I had already thoroughly read the article in Karting World. Steve was mulling over the pages while I was unbolting the engine from the Cates kart. We had not even bothered looking over the engine much since this project started. It didnt look damaged, and was running great when the incident took place, so put it aside until the kart was a roller again. Considering the kart was a complete total disaster, all of our focus was on repairing the frame. A motor is more or less useless without something to bolt it on to.

After more arguments pro and con about modding the Clinton, we both agreed it would be wise to at least tear the engine down and check everything over very closely. It would not make sense to fire the motor up and just hope for the best. That could be an expensive mistake. I had been covered top to bottom with sand after that little spill. Along with a head full of sawdust too. No reason to think the motor didnt ingest something. There is no air filter on the carburetor anyway. So it would not take a rocket scientist to come up with a fairly cut and clear hypothesis.

First thing we do is clean out a spot on the work bench. With the motor already removed from kart I set it up on the bench. Steve digs thru the toolbox for a 7/16 wrench to remove the carburetor. I grab the carb immediately after he set it down and flip over to see what model number is stamped on the flange. Hmm, it is HL 115A. Looks to be fairly new. The throttle shaft is good and tight, nice!

The motor is very dirty and covered in a layer of grime from obvious usage as a loaner kart. I doubt it had been off in a while. It got a trip to the parts cleaner. Well, the parts cleaner was nothing more than a 5 gallon bucket cut in half filled with white gas. The sharp edge was rolled over so you wouldnt cut yourself. An old left over paint brush from my grandfathers house was nearly used up from the cleaning I had done the last couple of years.

While Steve is busy removing the stuffer, I go ahead and tear this carburetor apart. I could not just leave it alone. That is not in my blood to do so. I already have a few different Tillotson carburetors. Mostly chainsaws tho. Definitely want to compare this one to the others.

First thing Steve does is whistle in surprise. After removing layers of dirt, he is looking and realizes the intake manifold is actually a Palmini with Go-Power pyramid reed. This is way cool. Already have some awesome stuff that does major league improvements over the stock parts. Then Steve shows me the grit and sand in the reeds too. Uh-oh, not good.

Steve pulls out the reed assembly, then makes a sigh of relief. That was a close one. Looks like nothing made it thru to the crankcase. I tell Steve to flip around the engine and take a good look at the spark plug. He notices the porcelain is broken. OK it makes sense now. Well, this is probably what saved the engine. At least you were smart enough to crash on the engine side before dragging kart thru a sand pile.

So you wanna see what a real racing rod looks like? Steve had removed the stuffer and set it aside on work bench. With the grime cleaned off now, I had all my attention focused on it. That is until my eyes panned around to him pointing at the Bug Engineering connecting rod inside crankcase. Wow that is super cool. Cant wait to get it apart and look closer.

Steve then says this doesnt look good. Is it possible that the crankshaft might have been broken and repaired? Because I can see there are welded sections on the crankshaft. Mostly it looks like that on the counterweights. Huh? What are you talking about? You dont weld those cranks back together. That is a guaranteed disaster just waiting to happen. OK then what is this, mister thinks-he knowsitall?

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 40

I had torn down a vertical shaft version of this motor before. It was on a lawnmower we found in the trash one day a couple years ago. That motor is even in a box stashed around here somewhere. But dont remember seeing anything like this before. The throws on crankshaft have extra plates welded on. Holly crap, Steve!!!! I yell way too loudly in his right ear.

I am positive that is not stock or original equipment. Still with my voice raised. Hey Steve? Are you thinking the same thing as I am? Well if its you talking way too loud right now, then yes, I am. Calm down before I go deaf, will you already? Oh sorry Steve, I am kind of mega hyped at the moment. OK, so what is it we are both supposed to be thinking right now?

Steve, Mr Cates said this is one of his first karts, right? Yea, so? What if this is already modified like everyone was trying a couple of years ago? Lets get this thing apart and find out. Like Right now! I am thinking we wont really have to do much making this motor any faster. That would be super collider!

So why dont we just remove the pipe here and look at the exhaust ports? Wouldnt that be a good indication of what is done? Yea, Steve that makes sense. Sometimes you can be such a buzzkill. What are you talking about? Nothing Steve, I was just thinking how cool it would be to find a completely modified engine. My feet are back down on the ground now. Go ahead and take that header pipe thingy off already.

Steve painstakingly or purposefully takes his sweet loving time in removing those two little 1/4 inch bolts. Dude are you doing that on purpose or what? What, what? Why are you taking so long? Get the bolts off already. Back off man, I am getting there. They are safety wired on and feel really tight. Like maybe loctited or possibly galled up. I dont want to break one off. Anyway, dont you have a date with a carburetor that you were drooling on over there somewhere?

Finally Steve gets the tubular pipe removed. Seemed like an eternity. I swear he intentionally took his time to do it. Sure enough the exhaust ports have been modified. They have been worked over very nicely. I dont think I have ever seen a cleaner job. At least in how I would try to do something similar. Even tho there was plenty of carbon built up, the ports looked perfectly machined, then ground smooth and blended very professionally.

The ports appear to have been slightly raised. All three were squared with a small radius in the corners. The outer two ports were even eyebrowed a lot to make for much better scavenging of exhaust gasses. Hey Steve? What was connected to this long exhaust pipe before? Before what? Steve questions back. Before I took a joy ride! When else do you think?

Uh, gee I dunno. It was fairly quiet. But wasnt quiet like a regular muffled engine at all. It didnt sound like the other engines now that I think about it either. Yes, there was a round looking canister of some type back there. I remember when you took off from the pits and the smoke was coming out from underneath. Mr Cates had said something about a port tuned exhaust. Something most guys didnt think made a lot of difference.

What do you mean a port tuned exhaust? Heck, I dont know. Just repeating what he told me when you drove out of the pits. Geez! I was more excited about seeing you finally making your first laps at the moment. Next time I will grill him with all of the interrogation techniques Hamilton Burger uses. How is that? Will that be good enough or do I need to use bamboo shoots too?

Sometimes Steve makes me laugh. Other times I dont know if he is half serious or actually just trying to be funny. This is one of those times. Ok Steve, if there was a muffler of some kind, then we need to find out where it went. And pronto! If it got torn off at the track, we may not ever find it again.

I know one thing Terry. Far as this kart went flying off the track and out there in the boonies, I doubt anybody else has been back in that deep and discovered anything laying around. It took me some time just finding the front wheel that night. I thought I knew exactly where the kart landed. But when we went back, nothing looked very much disturbed at all. Them kind of weeds that grows in all different ways and looked like your hair did the next morning.

So far, my little disaster flipping the kart earlier this year, has been a near blessing in disguise. We now have a complete kart with what looks to be so far is a fully modified racing engine. Even tho it is only competitive in the bushing class, I am good with that. But what is up with the funky muffler?

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 41

Yes, that little mishap on the Cates kart could have gotten me badly hurt or worse even killed, but I survived. Didnt even do any serious damage to myself. At least none that I can remember. Not the first time I have been konked on the head. Glad I was wearing a helmet. Even that one particular helmet. The helmet sure didnt fair so well. Even tho an older one, something like that would have probably been decent to at least start racing with. Well, that polka-dotted paint job would have to go.

It is interesting to see what was used in the helmet as stuffing. I had never really given it any thought until now. Sawdust for stuffing? Hmm, why not. It obviously works or they wouldnt be using in helmets. Sure was a lot of it on me after I wrecked the kart. I could almost taste wood when drinking the pop Steve brought me. It was even hard to first swallow the Orange Crush. Grainy, crunchy and lumpy orange drinks dont suit me too well.

I remember my grandfather tried explaining life to me one afternoon a few years ago. I was there on Saturday with him, helping with the yard work. He told me your life is divided into four parts. But only three of them are important. First you are born. Next part is you live. The third and most important part is getting right with God. You do this soon as you are mature enough to understand its importance. Then you die. This part is has no real importance at all. I ask him why not? He tells me, it is too late to do anything about it and nobody can change it. So make your first three parts of life count.

My grandfather was a very religious man. He was also extremely modest and humble. Everything in his life pointed this way. He had already read the Bible seven times cover to cover. The King James version no less. I have a hard time getting thru the first book. I think it is written on a much higher grade level than for the average 13 year old. It must be written above college level too. Because my oldest brother sure wouldnt be able to understand anything he tried to read from it. He takes everything literally as written. Too much trouble to comprehend so he doesnt bother.

I dont know why my brain drifts out sometimes to remember things like this. I am so wrapped up with working on the Clinton, but as my hands are on auto pilot, my mind is racing somewhere else completely different. This usually gets me thru the day in some classes during school. Let my hand do the writing while my head is speeding around the race track somewhere else.

Chapter 42

Without even realizing something obviously different, I had watched Steve remove the shroud and pull flywheel off crank. WOH there, what the heck is this?? Here, what you missed. Steve looks over at me like I just chewed him out for something. Looking a little tensed up and like he is ready to bite my head off right now.

HEY, fine, and he throws down the tools. You do it then, jerk! Why do you always try to tell me how to do things? I know how to tear engines apart. Not like I havent watched you do it hundreds of times. And I have torn down enough of them by myself to know what I am doing! I am going outside to take a break. I need some air. Someone in here is hogging it all right now.

Steve you idiot, hold on a minute. Look at this here. You dont notice something odd about the flywheel? No not really. It is round and has magnets. Nope its a flywheel. That is all it is. Wait right here, Steve. Go ahead and take the ignition off, but just stay put, Please. Yes sir BOSS! as he salutes me with just a middle finger.

Everything is fine, just chill out ok? Dont go and get your panties all in a wad. Whatever you say, man. So I head to back of the garage where a storage room is, then start digging and pulling things out of the way. I know that box of parts is around here somewhere. 

After tipping over several boxes and opening a few others, then find the one I have been searching for. Seems it is always the very last place you look. Just about ripped the box apart dragging it out from under some other boxes full of junk. A few nuts and bolts are falling out leaving a trail as I fast track back to the work bench.

I drop the box down and start pulling out bits and pieces of several old engines. There it is. Lookie here Steve. I hand him a flywheel. Now do you see any difference? Steve snatches the flywheel from my hands still having some attitude from a couple of minutes ago. Then just looks down and stares at it for a moment.

Wow, I sure missed that one completely. Are you saying both of these flywheels are supposed to be the same? Yes! Exactly! Thats what caught my attention. Now that I have engine parts side by side, how did I miss the shroud too?



The flywheel on our newly discovered as modified kart engine has most of the fins removed. There is a clean machine cut finish completely around the circumference, and only about 1/4"tall fins on the face. It also looks like the shroud has been shortened the same amount as what the fins were cut down on flywheel. I never thought about it until seeing this right now. Makes total sense to me. Dont you see Steve?

Oh yea, I see it just fine. There is a butchered up flywheel So what? But what the heck are you making such a big deal about? Maybe you should cut back on the Mountain Dew for rest of the night. You know, just saying...

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 43

I was having a very difficult time trying to explain the advantage of this flywheel being cut down to Steve. Just not finding the right words to make myself clear. I can see it clearly in my head, but just not explaining it well enough to even convenience myself.

Hey Steve, can you point the fan over this way a little more? There is a decrepit box fan that had seen better days, years, a millennia, sitting behind both of us. It is on its last leg literally. Or that is what I am hoping at this very moment right now.

Dont bother getting up off the stool, just kick it around with your foot. Steve stretched his leg out far enough to give a good swift kick to it just below half way up on one side. The fan nearly falls apart and crashes down then lays back flat on the floor. That was real slick. You knew that would happen, Terry.

Steve gets off the stool and tries to set the fan back upright. You are sure being a jerk tonight. As Steve bends over to pick the fan up, he realizes how much faster the motor is spinning now. Hey whats up with this? The motor is hauling butt when laying down flat like this. What gives?

Yes, I could not find the words to clearly explain what I wanted to, but knew the fan would fall when he kicked it. That is what I was trying to explain to you just now Steve. What does this old fan have to do with butchering up a flywheel?

Steve, the airflow has been blocked so there is no drag on the blades there. Without the air being pushed thru, it takes less power to spin. So now the rpm has increased. Same as on the flywheel. You cut off the fins, then it doesnt have as much drag pushing air thru now.

Ok, that makes some sense, but then you have a motor that wont stay cool. Big deal. That doesnt sound smart. Steve think for a minute. Didnt I run the kart for a long time at the track that night? Was the motor overheating then? Well, I guess not. But why would they make it that way if it didnt need all those fins?

Steve that engine was never designed for karts or racing. There wasnt anything at all like real racing karts when these motors were first built. The vertical shaft models for lawn mowers and the horizontal ones for edgers, rotary mowers, and stationery pumps. They can run for hours just sitting there without any problems.

I bet if you could keep the gas tank full might run for months like that. Now someone looking for a cheap engine adapts it to use on a racing kart. Things are very different. Similar to a lot of motorcycles that dont even have air shrouds. They can run all day without problems. But they are usually moving at some speed where the air is still passing thru the fins to pull the heat away.

This motor on a kart doesnt really need all that air to cool. Plus the kart is zooming around the track with even more air movement. What do you think the top speed was last time out? I bet it was close to 40 miles an hour. Well it at least felt that fast. I sure dont see anyone pushing a lawn mower any where near that speed, do you?

This is a lot of air movement to add with the forced air from cooling fins on flywheel. One other thing to think about. Using this motor on a kart we are running much higher rpm's too. That means even more air is pushing across. Are you getting the picture yet Steve?

OK I am with you now. Makes more sense, after picking up the fan. It slowed down a bunch as the air movement increased. So it takes horsepower to overcome the drag from air flow. We dont need that much air to keep the engine cool enough for racing. We also want as much power as possible to make it run faster on the track. Cut the drag, then increase speed. Do I have that right?

Sounds close enough. That is what I was trying to explain, but thought if the fan fell over, like it does all the time, might make it easier to understand if you see what the point is I am trying to get across.

So you saying all that work done is really worth the little bit of gain? I dont see how it can make that big of a difference. Steve, every little bit adds up. Several small things may knock a ton off the lap times. Another thing is how heavy the flywheel is. That one is cast iron. Heavy as crap. There is supposed to be an aluminum one that also fits this model Clinton too. But for lower horsepower, sometimes a heavier flywheel actually helps more than it hurts.

Remember that oddball lawnmower we found a while back? We never could keep it running at first. After putting the engine back together, we decided to leave the blade off, just in case, for safety reasons. But the motor would only pop. It would not start up and keep running. We tried over and over, nothing.

After tearing it apart a few more times we gave up for the day. After giving up we went ahead and bolted everything back complete, just so not to misplace any parts. The next day, it fired up just fine. We finally figured it out when the blade came loose. I didnt tighten it up so much, since there was no plan to put any more time to it right then. So it came loose fairly quick by accident.

The engine would just lay over and die with just a very light load. Then would not start back up. Tighten the blade, that motor would stay running just fine. You thought the key must have sheared and removed the flywheel to make sure. Remember how light weight that one was?

The flywheel had a magnet, and its counterweight. But nothing else really. It was open on the other sides. The fins on top were very thin and short. The weight of cutting blade is what was used for the flywheel effect on that particular lawn mower engine.

It got late in the night when we finished hashing out everything that had been discovered with the little Clinton. There was still tons more we were completely clueless on, but ready to learn what or how on all of it. Saturday late morning came early for us. Steve had decided to skip out on rest of the weekend. His parents had acted so strange, that he wanted to go check up on them. So the rest of my weekend was less involved on the kart.

For some reason, mom had convenienced me I needed to learn how to type. She shook her head every time I tried to peck out a report for school. Summer school had a two week course. It was only an hour each day. Even early enough so I wouldnt really miss out on anything for rest of the day. I caved on it and come Monday morning it was back to school. Summer schooll. Yuk!

There was a positive side to going back to school for a couple of weeks. Actual summer classes were taking place for those who chose not to do their work during the regular school year. I had some ideas of my own that might pay off in a big way. But first needed to find out who was teaching health science.

Mrs Hailey was our regular science teacher. But for the summer flunkies, it was Mr Pennington. He was one of the football coaches and a regular math teacher. Not really the physical type coach. More of an organizer. Now he is a science teacher too. Who would have known? How talented. I dropped in after the typing class was finished. He had a class going on. But the students were reading silently and he was sitting at his desk.

I walked in and said my hello. He informed me I was not on his summer class roster. I told him his loss, and he just gave me a smirk. So what can I do for you young master Bentley? I wonder if he ever calls anyone by their first name? My question to him was about possibly using some equipment if it didnt disrupt the class.

There was a nice tri-beam scale sitting up on the little laboratory table in the corner of the room. I wanted to weigh some things, that is, if he had no objections. There was none from him. I asked if tomorrow would be alright, and he agreed. Under one condition tho. He was curious about what I was doing and wanted to be kept in the loop of information. I said that was fine and would see him tomorrow about the same time. Also to thank him.

Tuesday came around soon enough. I had a heavy box with me. My typing class couldnt get over fast enough. This mind was elsewhere the whole hour for some reason. These fingers were doing the walking. But kept finding a box sitting on the floor instead of the right key to punch on the Underwood in front of me at my desk. Finally class over, I am out of here.

Looking thru the glass window with wire mesh thru door I see Mr. Pennington passing out some papers. He motions me inside. Keep quiet and do what you need. I nodded at him and headed back to the corner. Open the box and pull out two cast iron flywheels. One has been cut down a bunch, the other is completely stock.

After figuring how this tri-beam scale works, I first check weight of the cut down flywheel that was on the engine from Cates kart. After a few attempts and finally getting enough weights on to ba1ance, this cut down flywheel weighed in at 2215 grams. The flywheel felt heavy enough. Now I know how many grams of weight that is. Hmm. Why cant this be in ounces? I dont have anything to gauge the gram thing with. Will have to do some conversion math later.

Now for the big surprise. Swapped over to the stock heavy cast iron flywheel that came out of the box of parts. I was real curious how much heavier it was comparing to this chopped up one. OK something is a bust here. The scale is tipped the wrong way. Am I using this thing correctly? Check over everything again and again. Yes that has to be right. But no way. This makes no sense. How can the stock cast iron flywheel weigh less that that chopped down lightened one from the kart engine?????

After checking over again, the scale clearly showed this stock flywheel to weigh in at 2177 grams. I am just shaking my head. How can this be? Mr Pennington is done with passing out papers and comes over to investigate what I am working on.

After explaining what I knew, he double checked everything himself and confirmed the weights were indeed correct. He looked over both flywheels closely and then used his thumb and index finger like a micrometer to gauge the thickness of different parts on each flywheel.

Here might be your problem. The castings are much different, even tho they look nearly identical. The thickness varies a lot comparing the two. I am surprised with this much material cut off, that it is still heavier than the stock flywheel. Are these the exact same part number? Could this lighter one be a newer replacement?

I really didnt know what to tell him. Just more things to figure out. I thanked him again for the help. He said anytime. Be sure to let him know what I find out on these flywheels. Sure thing, Mr Pennington. Then I headed out and back home.

It was shortly after lunch time when I pulled up at home on my bike. Hunger pains were working me over hard, but the grey matter was working harder. Back to the garage with these two flywheels. I did as Mr Pennington was doing with his thumb and finger. There is some difference in thickness in several places. But how could it be so much different in weight between the two. And just opposite what anybody would think by looking both over very closely.

Both of the flywheels were close enough to the same weight to not be sure which one was lighter just holding one in each hand. I have these numbers to confirm which one is lighter. Just not the one I would visually pick.

Ok, this has got me thinking. If the lighter stock flywheel is cut down the same way, then how much more weight could be removed from it? Hmm. I wonder if the little Craftsman lathe can handle a flywheel? Only one way to find out. If I can get this one to fit, it is getting the full treatment.

First tho lunch is screaming at me. My stomach is not liking the lack of attention it has been getting. I need some nourishment. A quick roast beef sandwich with provolone and the one Mountain Dew I have stashed out in the garage fridge. This should keep me from passing out for a few more hours.

The little 6 inch lathe might have trouble chucking up a 6 1/8 inch diameter flywheel. I remember dad mentioning the lathe can swing up six inches with no problem. I was hoping there was enough clearance to maybe swing just a little bit more. But as usual when I start working on something new for the first time nothing seems to pan pan out like I would hope for. Just like it is at the moment. Time to think this out.

Dad had gone over different ways to do things on the lathe. This one problem is way outside of everything he had covered. At least the things I understood and retained in my head. After a few false not so promising starts, then a couple of complete failures, one way came to mind. It took some effort to rig up. But might work.

I had to machine an extended dead center that fit into the headstock. It was soft material. I think it is even a homemade center from the looks of the finish. The part sticking out is extended and already machined down to 1/2 diameter then to a point. I didnt need the point, but did need a taper that matched the flywheel taper.

I cut a new taper so the flywheel fit. It only fits inside the taper most of the way, but not completely thru. Then use a live center in tailstock with a small flat plate to hold flywheel tight in the tapered shaft. Rigged up a short bolt to work as a dog so the flywheel would keep rotating with headstock. Everything looked to be running true, so time to make chips.

This thought to be little job turned in to lots of chips. Tons of them all over the place. It took me all afternoon and well into the evening to cut most of the dead weight off this stock flywheel. Close to midnight, it actually resembled the existing lightweight flywheel a lot. Well that is until I put them both side by side.

Now I can see how much different the castings actually are. Just visually you can see the cooling fins were really big and thick on the kart flywheel. It must be an earlier model for sure. What is so amazing is how out of round this stock flywheel was. There was nearly 1/8 inch I had to remove before it was making a complete cut. Originally just rough cast on the outside, now a smooth flat concentric finish.

For no particular reason I  decided to cut the outside diameter down to exactly 6 inches. Just like the other flywheel. Those fins were machined down to nearly flush with the reinforcing ribs. I swung the top slide on lathe around to a 45 degree angle. Might as well angle the outer part of these fins in much as I can. Cut more off the the very short fins. Just keep chopping it down and get as much weight off as possible. The same on back side of flywheel too. Basically I tried to copy the already chopped down flywheel close as possible.



Finally they both looked very similar. This time there was a noticeable difference. I could tell which was lighter just by holding one in each hand too. But how much difference in actual weight did I remove? Geez, tomorrow cant get here soon enough. Oh crap! Tomorrow has already been here for a while.

Time for a quick shower and off to bed for the night. Fortunately typing class doesnt get rolling until 10am. It wont be a total loss tonight. I was out not much longer after laying my wet haired head down. Sleep came quick and easy. No brainstorms going on to keep me awake tonight.

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 44

On Tuesday morning I woke up to the sound of rain. Lots of rain. It is raining cats and dogs. What ever that is supposed to mean. Felt so good to sleep in. But I still had to get moving and mom would drive me to school today. No messing around either, so x-nay to visiting the science lab. Oh well maybe tomorrow.

Now that typing class is over today, mom picked me up and we headed out to Casa View Shopping Center. First a stop at Sears to make payment for something she had put in lay-a-way a few weeks ago. I headed over to the tool section to drool for a while. I do like my Craftsman tools. But mom was back in only a few minutes.

After that we went down Gus Thomasson to Gibsons. She said I needed some decent summer clothes. Not like swim suits but a couple of short sleeve shirts and maybe jeans. I asked if plain ole tee shirts would be alright? To me these are perfect for summer attire. Especially some darker ones that dont show dirt and grease too much. I dont need to be dressed up for summer anyway. She gave in and agreed those are better than nothing. I did suggest ones with a pocket. If there was a need to dress up this summer, I could always clip a tie on the tee shirt.  She just rolled her eyes and smiled.


As we pulled out from the parking lot, I noticed a new Whataburger across the street being built. I wonder how good those burgers really are? My eyes stayed focused on it until out of sight. We took the road in front of Gibsons that lead directly down to Oats Drive. Then back to Ferguson road. Mom turns in at the Dairyette Drive-in on the corner for a quick lunch. I order a cheeseburger, tater tots and Root Beer float. Wow, those are always so good to get. Doesnt matter when either. Summer or winter. 

Looking across the street I see Gasset. It is a small engine repair shop next door to an Enco gas station on the corner. They carry a full line of mowers and parts. Thats when I got a brilliant idea. While waiting for the food to arrive and mom was sitting there balancing her check book, I ran across the street to ask questions.

After some in depth explanation about why I was there, the guy behind the counter seemed interested enough to try and help out. He spent a few minutes going thru the catalogs for different part numbers of flywheels that fit Clinton 2 cycle Panther series engines. A few more numbers of some that would interchange too.

He asked me if I needed any used parts for these engines. There was a several of them in a large pile of junk back behind the shop. So I went out there and dug around while he waited on an actual paying customer. I pulled out several engines. They looked mostly complete but very weathered. Maybe I could buy these for extra parts.

I asked about buying the engines. He gave me a fair price. Except it was a lot more than I was hoping for. Then I asked about just buying one of them. He said sure no problem, but made me a better offer. If I was willing to help clean up that big mess out there, he might do some trading for labor. I was all ears.

The deal we worked out is that I would strip down the engines into parts, so the cast iron could be separated from aluminum. Then load on a flat bed trailer. They would take it all to the scrapper later for cash. I could pull out what I wanted from the pile within reason. A hand shake made the deal and I was back across the street with mom.

Lunch had arrived and we ate. These burgers are always good. I hope this drive-in stays here for a long time. After finishing the Root Beer float, we headed for home. On the way back something hit me. I had no idea of who it was behind the counter at Gasset. I didnt think to introduce myself either.

That was a stupid thing not to do. What if he isnt even there on Saturday? Or changes his mind? I was taught better than this. Sure doesnt show right now. I better bring my A game next time, or look like an uncouth imbecile.

Steve was hanging around when we pulled in the driveway. I told him the deal that was made. Then asked if he was interested in helping me out. He was all in too. Saturday could not get here fast enough. For rest of the week I had chores and some yards to mow. I postponed any future science projects. Also hopes of having some more parts to work with next time. Friday was now done and we would head out in the morning.

Steves dad decided to drive us to Gasset. We got there a little after 8 am. Early on Saturday doesnt usually happen for me very often. But today would be an exception. Steves dad introduced himself to who I thought was the manager, actually was Mr Grimes the owner. I now know who he is. He then confirmed the deal I had made earlier in the week.

After discussing the details, Steves dad felt comfortable the deal I made was fair. So for rest of the morning, Steve and I just went to town tearing apart tons of small engines. By noon, I was starving and we had about half the pile already stripped and loaded. Only a few really decent items had been found so far that might be worth keeping.

We come inside the shop to ask if it is ok for us to cut out for a quick lunch break. Mr Grimes sternly said no way. You are stuck here for the whole day. That was the deal. No work, no deal. Telling this in a rather harsh sounding voice, he ushered us over to the office immediately and demanded we help the other guys right now. He says there was too much pizza and pop for just them to finish up.

Me and Steve look at each other and just grinned ear to ear. Yes sir! But first go wash up. You two are covered stem to stern in dirt and grease. Then you can help get rid of this pizza. I dont want any of it left over either.

About 4pm, Mr Grimes older son James, tells us to call it a day. We had done more than what was expected and to thank us for exceptional work. After finishing up the pile of old scrap motors, we had also swept up the place and tried to clean, best we could, the oil slick from these engines sitting out here for so long.

We ended up putting aside a lot more engines than I had first realized. Also several boxes filled with anything and everything that looked useful. Then went to the shop trough and got cleaned up. We relaxed a few minutes and grabbed sodas from the icebox there in front. It was well worth the five cents a piece.

Steves dad had just pulled up out front and we got started with moving everything from our big little pile to his truck. As I was picked up a couple of engines, Mr Grimes yelled in his gruff voice and called me into his office. I followed him in there still holding my newly acquired junk.

He set a full box on top of the two engines I had in my arms. Here is a small bonus for you guys. Then held up two nickels and stuck them in my shirt pocket. The engines were heavy enough. But the box just made things a lot heavier. At least now the sodas we just finished were comped.

We loaded up, shook hands, then said thanks and good bye. Steves dad drove us back home in his 1959 F-100. He bought it new and kept in the garage all the time. It still had that new car smell inside too. In the bed he already had tarps laid down and covering everything up, so not to move around denting the wood bed or scratch the paint.

Back home I go inside to let the folks know we have returned. No sooner I walk in the door, there is little sis with my Kodak camera. She says smile and clicks a picture.  "Wow you are a mess! Since you didnt smile, dont blame me if it broke your camera." She giggles and runs out of the room. Oh well. I wonder how Steve puts up with his two sisters. Maybe thats why he is always over here. Sure makes sense to me right now. Blah!



I head outside to the garage. Steve has already gotten most of the junk unloaded by the time I make it back there. Steves dad tells him to make sure he gets home shortly for dinner. Then both of us sit down there somewhat quiet for a moment and look over our spoils.

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 45

After working all day, I was feeling a little bit drained. Even less motivated. Or maybe just tired and hungry. But Steve wastes no time pulling out all of the Clintons from our pile and brings them inside for us to oogle over. We check over these junk engines carefully and handle them like they are brand new. Now that they are ours we can dream big. There are a few others still left in a pile outside.

I reach in my tee shirt pocket and grab one of the nickels, then toss it over to Steve. Mr Grimes reimbursed us for the drinks. Speaking of, you want one? Steve gets a little too excited at first. Then asks if he can have my nickel too. No, you cant. Steve asks what the date on mine is. I dunno, what difference does it make? I guess thats a no on the pop?

He said he cant tell what the year is on his nickel. I grab the other one out of my pocket and then realize Mr Grimes had given us Buffalo nickels. Way cool. The date on mine was 1938. This was last year of the Buffalo and first year of the Jefferson nickel. Hum, wonder if there was any significance to him giving these to us. Anyway I dont have this one in my coin collection. Well I do now.

Time to get down to some serious business. I grab a rag and dip it in the parts cleaner. Then go around each engine and wipe off years of neglect and dirt covering the model tags. We now officially have in our corral of Clintons, one A-200, two A-400 models, one incomplete A-490, E-65, D-2 and 2 D-35 chainsaws. The three saws are all minus bars, chains and air filters. I had already stripped a lot of saw pieces off of some of these.

My reason to snag up the chainsaws specifically was because of the Tillotson carburetors. I looked on every two cycle engine we tore down for those that might have one. Or anything else we might be able to use. Tillotson carburetors and karts just seem to fit together perfectly.

Steve grabs out one more engine he had pulled from the junk pile and put to the side earlier in the day. I had not seen this one yet. Sitting it next to the Clintons he asks what model it is. I checked it out and noticed it didnt look just like the other ones here. The steel shroud was grey and was similar to a Clinton. Wait this looks more like the yellow engine on you dads McCulloch mower. It should be a Westbend.

I flipped over the engine and looked for a tag to confirm it. After wiping off the grime and dirt...Gee if that sticker was a snake, both of us would have already been bitten. Big obvious checkered flag WESTBEND sticker in plain sight. Sort of hard to miss that one. Even if not looking for it either. Actually the motor was flipped around backwards on this motor mount for some reason. But only loosly attached with just two bolts. So the tag wasnt that easy to see. I did notice the flywheel nut was missing and also had a left hand thread. Hum, hey Steve this is a right hand drive motor, I think....



The model number is 7008. Steve, I am not sure but that number means it might, could it be a 7 inch motor? A Westbend 700? Wow! This is a lot better motor than whats on the the McCulloch mower. This one might be bad to the bones. Could turn out to be really fast if we are lucky and get it running. This motor is all yours dude. You found this one, so if we get this thing running, it will go on your kart, K? Should be a blast to run when we are out practicing by ourselves some days. Well , maybe if we ever get a kart together that is.

[Terry Bentley]

Chapter 46

Steve was still standing there with a dumb grin on his face. Different from one like he was real happy with his big new engine. It usually means he has or knows something I dont. Putting myself back into jerk mode, I said "Just out with it already dude. Dont stand there with that goofy grin of yours. Hey, you knew that was a Westbend already." No, I didnt. Really had no idea until now. It does look sort of like dads lawn mower engine. Sure am glad it isnt another one of them. That would be a waste.

You sure like to be a buzzkill, Terry. So do you wanna know something? No, I dont. Ah, come on just go with it. OK, fine. Hey Steve, what is this something you want to tell me? There must be something you have or really want to show me right now. What on this earth could it be? I start jumping up and down, while clapping my hands together.  Oh golly gee Steve, what could it possibly be? Man seriously! Is that the best acting you can do? You suck big time!

Back in fifth grade I remember you in the Thanksgiving play. You replaced Clayton Hunt for that part of the Pilgrims son. I really thought you were doing a good job up there on stage, but not now. You totally bombed out with that poor attempt of something. Surely not acting. A one trick pony. One thing is for sure. You dont have to act to be a jerk. That you are really good at.

But since you did ask...I will tell you. When you toted those first two engines out, and went in the office, James slipped this in with the rest of the stuff already loaded. Its a real McCulloch chainsaw. I dont have a clue what it actually is. Just that he said you kept eyeing it when walking thru the shop.

What? Huh? Where is it? Holy crap, he let us have this one? Yea. He told me it fell out of the back of a work truck. Busted up a lot of parts too. Like the gas tank and bar mount you see here. Customer didnt want to spend what it would cost to fix. He ended up just replacing it with a newer model and left this one there. They robbed some parts off of it already and planned to toss this one out in the junk pile later.

James mentioned some powerheads on these saws are just like the kart engines. He didnt know any more about them than that. But he did say you were really focused on this every time passing by it sitting on the shop floor. I guess we now have a McCulloch to add to our wannabe kart engine inventory. Since the big Westbend is going to be my special engine, maybe you can keep this little bitty McCulloch for your kart. You know anything about them?

I sure wish I knew something. This one really looks like a Mc 6 I read an article on in the kart mag. Same on some karts we saw at the track too. There is a Mc5, 6 and 10 just for karts. This doesnt look anything like a Mc10. But I wouldnt know how to tell the difference between them inside. Guess one more thing to try and find out at the library next time I get that way. Now here is one more engine I would really like to tear down and look at. I sure dont want to do anything with this until we find out more about them first.

We really ended up with a small truck load of junk. A lot more than I had thought. Several boxes of just parts. There is one box full with small parts I packed up hoping could be useful. A few flywheels that look like Clinton. Another aluminum flywheel that I am not sure about. But it was sitting next to a Clinton block with half the side missing. A few disassembled blocks of different model Clintons. I had pulled out a Homelite and one big David Bradley chainsaw. But dont really know what to do with them. They dont look like anything used for kart racing.

At first I was mostly focused on putting aside the Clinton engines. Since that is what we have for the kart. But after tearing that other junk apart, I started realizing a lot of the pieces looked just like what is used on kart engines. The Tillotson carbs and some reed cages from Homelite chainsaws look just like I had seen advertised too. I thought were identical.  

There are a few Tillotsons that were just lost in the pile of junk engines. In this box is an HL-19, HL-15, two HL-87, and one HL-92. Some others here somewhere. I am fairly certain these are from chainsaws, but dont have a clue which ones. Will need to investigate further and see what I can find. Maybe its time to hit the public library, sooner than later. When will be the next time I am near Casa View? I doubt very seriously the school library will have any good repair manuals.

Steve went digging thru the box of stuff Mr Grimes handed me at his shop. Wow!, We hit the jackpot. Man, look at all this. Steve pulls out a big catalog full of IPL's from Clinton. No way! Why would he give us those? I go flipping thru the pages and really blown away with all of the engines it has listed. The book is over 4 inches thick and completely full of everything related to Clintons.



After looking thru a lot of the pages, I do notice that most of these are way out of date and some printed 5 to 10 years ago. Oh I see now. This whole catalog must have been superseded. He probably replaced it with a new one. This is perfect for us to use. We have all the exploded views of engines and part numbers now.




There was another stack of paper on top of the catalog Steve had thrown aside. I picked thru it and looked at one piece. It was a hand written thank you note from Mr Grimes. Underneath was an envelope too. Inside were two crisp ten dollar bills. I read the note to Steve.

Mr Grimes thanked us for the exceptional work and felt it was worth being paid something besides some old broken down engine parts. Sometimes life cant get any better. You know, being 13 is turning out to be not bad as I was first thinking. Or maybe I am finally growing in to it.