Buick's First (real) Roadtrip

It's time for some catch-up. We haven't really blogged for almost a month, but there has been plenty to blog about! I plan to post chronologically...and this one will be the longest I promise...
After work on July 29th, we head off on the roadtrip of a lifetime in our 1957 Buick - traveling caravan-style with our car club friends John and Forrest (with passenger Dottie).
The evening drive goes smoothly (this car feels like you're riding on a cloud, or boat maybe...), and we spend the night in the Tri-Cities. The next morning comes fairly early because we want to escape the heat that seems to hang around that part of Washington. About 2 hours into the drive (10:30 or so), the Buick starts acting up - sputters, loses power, dies.

We pull onto the shoulder and hope our buddies ahead of us notice we've fallen behind. After sitting briefly, the car starts fine and we head off again. 2 miles later - same thing. Pull over, wait, start up, drive some more... This is repeated numerous times (with a few look-under-the-hood stops). Finally, we determine that it is going to be a recurring problem until it's diagnosed and fixed. So, 6 miles out of the tiny town of Boardman, we take an exit and park on the on-ramp. The guys decide it must be the fuel pump, so Andy jumps in Forrest's car and they drive into Boardman to find a new one. John stays behind to "protect" Dottie and I from whoever might pop up at this middle-of-nowhere exit. Turns out the only people who stopped were policemen, firemen, and a guy named Jay.
Andy and Forrest returned with the news that the only parts store in town didn't have the right fuel pump (surprise, surprise), but they got an electric one for $150 that they could wire in and use in place of the original mechanical one. 2 hours later, it's in place and we're getting ready to hit the road again. Start the car and the carburetor floods - WAY too much fuel coming at it! Stranger-friend Jay had stopped by about this time and seemed to know his fair share about carburetors and such. He called all the parts stores within 30 miles to try to find a regulator or the right fuel pump - no luck. The closest one is in Portland. So, I call my sister in Portland and have her pick one up so that when we meet with up her that night to go to Portland International Raceway cruise night, we can get it.

Long story, shorter - at about 6:00 pm, we are still 6 miles out of Boardman. Difference is, this time the Buick is up on another stranger-friend's hoist (his name is Gordo), and the gas tank has been drained (into used hydraulic oil buckets we found laying around the place), washed out, re-attached, and re-filled. Turns out that there were chunks of hardened silicone floating around in the tank, and they kept clogging the in-tank filter and not letting the gas thru to feed the engine! We missed cruise night, we have a fuel pump in Portland that we no longer need, and we are losing daylight hours to make it to our buddy Collin's house near Washougal. Thankfully, the car runs great the rest of the way to Collin's house where we will stay for the next 2 nights.
The agenda at Collin's is to use his foundry, and his mad casting skills, to make new aluminum club plaques. Andy's been stoked about this part of the trip because he took a foundry class in high school and hasn't been able to do it since. For him, the smells and sounds brought it all back and he was more than happy to play assistant to master Collin. For me, it was so very intriguing to see a pile of random aluminum pieces turn into a detailed plaque with just the help of a mold, some sand under pressure, some metal under heat, and some experienced hands.When the plaques come out, they need some spare parts trimmed off and the edges filed down, and then they're ready for a custom paint job!
Pictured below are our His and Hers car club plaques.
Any guesses which is whose? :)


The plaque-casting took all of Thursday, and on Friday morning we plan to head up to Tacoma for the big car show - Hotrodarama. We wake up to torrents of rain coming down. Forrest's car (as seen in previous posts) provides no protection from the rain, so we decide to wait it out. Around noon, it finally lets up and we hit the road. With some stops along the way, and a little antique store browsing (which the two of us aren't too good at yet), we arrive in Tacoma.

Friday night, there is a big party in the parking lot and street where Saturday's show will be. Andy and I have never gone, but decide we will try it out this year and stay in a hotel nearby instead of risking a drive to Nana and Papa's house by ourselves, in an old car, at a very late hour. The party was what a party should be - lots of loud people with loud cars, and a chance to catch up with the friends we really only see at car shows. Marc (also in our club) owns a Hudson Limo that he's converted into a traditional hot rod. His goal at every party is to see how many people he can fit in the Limo! Friday night, he didn't get too many, but on Saturday night he set a record (I think 23..?) and broke his steering box. Oops!
Saturday morning came a little too early, but we made it to the show - car and all - and had a great time. The cars are 'surprisingly' easier to see in the daylight, and Andy's mom stopped by with the kids. It was really fun to share our hobby with them.
Ayden, Meysa, and Lauryn posed for a shot in the backseat of the Buick!
After the show, we went to Nana and Papa's for dinner and to spend the night. Margaret, Beth & Bryan, Amy & Adam, Ryan & Aimee (and kids) were all there too. It was really good to see all of them - if only for a short time. Andy took Nana and Papa for a cruise in the Buick , and then Ayden and Meysa got a quick spin around the driveway. (check Margaret's post for pictures...soon?)
Sunday morning, we packed up the Buick and met our car club friends at their hotel in Tacoma. After a few hours of trying to help find parts for Marc's broken-down limo, we left half the group behind to help him and traveled home with the original caravan again. We made it home without further incident, and live to tell the tale.