Anybody who has followed my slow, yet assured spiral into the depths of madness through this build diary is aware that not only do I post my accomplishments, but also my – well, shall we say, less stellar moments. Midget wrestling ain’t easy.
First off, the cockpit is done, save the reinstallation of the harness. All gauges work (as they should, unlike my former temp gauge, RIP); the seat is as comfy as any aluminum bucket can be, and my fat head fits under the roll cage. With practice, entry and egress are trying, but doable.
My attempt to spray primer, however, was nothing short of a fiasco.
The car is due tomorrow night at Joe Phillips’ shop for paint, and I promised him I’d have it primed. He understands that I’m looking for 10 footer, but I simply could not get the gun to cooperate. It’s a Campbell-Hausefield, but the only nozzle I had was one better suited for lacquer on wood. It’s Labor Day, none of the pro paint shops are open, and to my regret, I went with it. It went on too dry, and now I’m waiting for it to cure so I can do a quick, light block sand on it. Joe will shoot whatever I bring him – I just don’t want it to look like a Woolly Mammoth.
Taking dinner with Kate will be in the garage for a while afterward.
Eight days.
Plenty of time!
