Last time dad and I got the chance to work on the impala we decided that since it is finally fall and it's cold outside that we should pull baby into the garage where it's warmer and the floor is even.
Ya know, an impala is a lot longer than she looks in the supernatural series. She's 18 feet long (to put that into perspective she's longer than my brother's full sized truck.) and barely fits in the garage with room to work.
fun fact 2: I'm only 5'2" so i need a step stool just to reach over the side to the engine.
Anyway, dad and I took out the distributor and the carburetor to reach the intake manifold.
Let me just say that underneath the manifold was dis.gust.ing. gross. aweful.
so we cleaned her out, replaced the gasket and got the shiny new manifold on her.
Do you know how long it took to get the distributor back in? Forever. I died and came back cause I couldn't leave a job unfinished.
then we discovered we didn't have the right bolts to get the carburetor back on. Shock and awe.
Did I meantion I broke the fuel line? yeah, I broke that. it twisted right in half. horrible. Just my luck.
So yesterday a guy came into work and we ended up talking about cars (I asked if he was a machanic, his hands were a dead give away) and he told me he had a whole bunch of parts he could give me cause chevy was his passion. He could even hook me up with a new set of wheels and fuel injection cause carburetors were prehistoric and should be extinct.
I was super excited.
And I forgot to get his number from the sign in sheet.
(this is another reason i cant get a date, I always forget numbers)