My idea for a color changes weekly, Im sure next week it will be something else!
A bit more done. I got the bed rails off, as well as the fuel tank out (man, was there some nasty stuff in it! It's in pretty good shape though).
I also started writing my "Build diary". I'm obviously behind, but, I figured it would only be appropriate to start at the very beginning. I'll move it to the original post once I get it current to date.
Parts storage:
And, the secret to good preservation:
As she sits now:
the build diary:
I Love old trucks. I Love everything about old trucks. I really don’t care who builds them. This might come as a pretty big shock to a lot of people who know me as I have a pretty extreme hatred for General Motors. However, one truck I have loved since the first time I saw one was the 1947-1953 Chevrolet pickup, frequently referred to as a “’53 pickup” as they were and still are the standard for 1950’s pickups, and are probably the most celebrated old truck today.
It was in search of one of these that lead me to the discovery of the Dodge Power Wagon series of trucks. A series of trucks originally conceived to help the Allied Nations defeat the evil forces that spawned World War II. I remember flipping through a book of antique pickups, looking at the Diamond Ts, REO’s, and, of course, the ’53 Chevy, my favorite, when, on the next page was a teal and black 1948 Dodge Power Wagon. I remember staring at that picture for hours, thinking it was the most beautiful piece of machinery ever conceived. The proportions were perfect. The broad fenders, round lights, industrial grate grille, the tempered steel bumpers, all of it meant one thing. Business. In a strange way though, the trucks, as rough as they are, are extremely handsome. They have a look that, while often imitated, cannot, and has not, been copied with the same persona as the original.
To top it all off, as good as the truck looks, it works twice as well. Dodge developed the modern day 4 wheel drive system, and even today’s pickups have a hard time comparing with the abilities of a flat fender power wagon, WC, or M-37. From the first time I saw that picture, I knew I had to have one.
I was 15 when I got my truck, a 1954 Dodge M-37. While not quite as handsome as a civilian Power Wagon, “M’s” Are handsome in their own right, and arguably, even more capable then their civilian brothers. My truck was built on the fifteenth day of January, Nineteen Fifty-Four, and is a date that is, and will forever be burned into my mind: 0-1-1-5-5-4. The Truck was a nice mix of civilian and military. It still carried its original drivetrain, but, it was an interesting shade of brown, with black fenders like its civilian brothers. Waxed up, the brown shined like liquid copper in the sun. It also had the coveted disc brake conversion, and the 4.89:1 gears, instead of the manual drums, and 5.83’s. Sadly, even with the better gearing, the old 230 six had a hard time passing 52 MPH. I loved my truck, even though others were not shy about letting me know what they thought of it. My schoolmates’ favorite thing to do was see how fast they could pass me on the way home, or, to school. I loved her anyways though, and she could go anywhere!
Maintenance on the truck wasn’t too terribly bad, but, was constant. Many bottles of 75-90W gear oil were heated in my mom’s deep pot to the point where you could barely hold them to make it easier to squeeze the oil into the differentials in the middle of February. Then, one day, a little over a year after getting the truck, on a very, very cold day, the clutch blew. One of the hub springs broke, and jammed itself in the pressure plate, making it impossible to disengage the clutch, and making one hell of a racket. My dad and I spent almost 3 days changing the clutch, working on it 15 minutes at a time before having to go inside from the cold. We got the clutch in, and it worked great! One of my few friends, Brandon and I decided to go to the movies the following weekend. It was almost an hour from our house to the movies, and, we drove there, watched the flick, and, on the way back, we started hearing the same sound… “Oh no! my new clutch disc is bad!” Or so I thought. I decided to limp it home and give my dad the bad news that we did something wrong, or, the new disc did the same thing from the cold. About a mile later, I found out the hard way, that, in fact, it was a rod bearing, and not the new clutch making the noise. The drivetrain locked up hard at 45 MPH, and we skidded to a stop. I tried the starter, pushing the pedal button, but only got a groan out of the starter as it struggled in vain. Brandon’s mom picked us up, and the next day my dad and I surveyed the damage. The “X” shaped crack in line with the number 4 rod told the whole story. I had lost oil pressure, and she blew (The gauge in the truck didn’t work, to my credit).
Along this time, I began going on The Big Electric forum, the original M-37 forum, asking about a V8 swap, and was told all sorts of things, mainly, that it couldn’t be done, and certainly couldn’t be done by a 16 year old kid. That’s all it took (and I’m still that way today!) to cement my resolve to make it V8 powered.
My dad and I found a rough looking, but great running 1983 long box, 4 door, 2 wheel drive, stick shift dodge truck for $300. We brought it home, and I went to work. I measured it all, and verified my beliefs… A V8 swap was possible! It wasn’t going to be easy, but, anything worth doing usually isn’t.
I started the next day by pulling the M into the barn with the lawn tractor. That worked, until I hit the edge of the concrete, and realized she was heavier then I thought. A Come-a-long worked to get her the rest of the way. The next issue to resolve was the lift needed to get the engine out. I took a 6” maple log, 2 foot long, and carried it up to the second floor of the barn. I drilled 4 holes in the floor, 2” apart, in a square pattern, connected them with a hacksaw blade, right over where the truck sat below. I chained the come-a-long through the floor to the log, as it lay across 4 beams. I had the drivetrain out of mine in a day. I’ll never forget my dad’s reaction that night: “So, did you work on your truck?” “Yup.” “Get anything off of it yet?” “Yup, I got the radiator, engine, and transmission out, and the entire engine wiring harness.” He almost fell out of his shoes. I had the drivetrain out of the 83 the day after. I carefully pulled the wiring harness out of the 83, but, not taking the time to mark or tag anything, assuming that I would remember how it came out! Boy, was I brave! I spent the next few weeks cleaning up my new baby, getting her and her transmission ready to go in. We didn’t have a welder, so, I made templates of what I wanted for engine mounts from cardboard, and gave them to my dad. He came home the next day with our new mounts, and it was officially bolted into the frame.
The next issue was the radiator. The bottom spout hit the fan. I took to into town to the radiator shop. The old man that ran the place took it to his work bench, I explained what I wanted (I wanted the lower spout flipped over) and he eyed it up, and said “Yup, I can do that.” And then, without me prompting him “Military dodge truck, right? It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen one of these. They’re a real pain in the ass, but, I can do it. Come back tomorrow.” He smiled as he said it.
Next issue was the stub drive shaft. One end was U bolted, other was flanged. And it had to be short. Really, really short: 6” from flange to cap centerline. A great machine shop, Machine Services Inc. in Green Bay, WI (A shop I still recommend, and, will use to make my new driveshafts) made us up a shaft that worked. While they were making the shaft, I wired the truck. I promptly realized what a mess I had made, but, did my best, and dumped some gas in the carb and grabbed the key. It started. The very first time, the very first turn, it started. I was elated!
The shaft was finished, and bolted in, and worked perfectly. The truck was LOUD, as it didn’t have an exhaust, so a trip into town one afternoon fixed that. It took all summer to get her running again, but she ran, and she had power. 3300 RPM was 60 MPH, and even a smog head 360 with a 4 barrel Holley 650 with haul some ass with 4.89:1 gears.
The first day of my junior year I was on my way to school, and saw Shawntel (a classmate) bearing down on me like I was standing still (I, of course, was only doing 52ish MPH). As soon as she pulled out to pass, I let her get right up along side of me, and snapped the secondaries open. The 360 growled for a moment, and then belted out a roar as the second set of barrels went vertical. I watched her drop back behind me. Try as she might, her 4 cylinder cavalier couldn’t out accelerate a 6,000 lb truck with 4.89:1 gearing and eight pistons! That was the day a lot of the jokes about the truck stopped.
I was just bustin chops on the color, though I think the brown is well blah.
