It occurred to me, yesterday, that repairing the front end on 195 is one of the toughest automotive projects I’ve ever undertaken. I would have to spend half an hour or more mulling it over if you wanted to know exactly how many times I’ve bloodied my knuckles in a DSM engine bay either removing/installing an engine or transmission, but despite the effort that goes into such projects, it’s child’s play compared to these repairs.

The thing that sets apart these front end repairs from an engine swap or rebuild is that, when dealing with an engine or transmission, you’re essentially removing and installing a major part of the car that was designed to be removable. The engine and transmission both have mounting locations and, for their complexities, “simply” get lowered into position and four bolts through mounts secure them in place for the long haul. The unibody, on the other hand, was designed to replace a traditional cab-on-frame set up. By it’s very definition, uni- means one. That is to say that, once you remove the powertrain, steering and suspension, interior, and whatever exterior bits the manufacturer felt generous enough to allow you to remove, you’re left with a unique structure that is pressed, glued, and welded together. 

The cleaned core support.

Welcome to my driveway. There’s 195 collecting dust in the shade of the garage, “new” white fenders just sort of hung in place to keep them out of the way. (There’s a collection of mangled, Nile Black sheetmetal on the side yard patio that Vanessa just loves, but I digress.) In front of 195 is the Talon that refuses to part ways with an Evap code that keeps it in fine running condition, but incapable of passing emissions. I’ve had the Talon right at twelve years, now, but I’m getting off track. Here’s a picture of the “new” core from the front.

 

This is considered one section of the unibody. It’s made up of maybe six to eight pieces of stamped sheet metal that have been glued here and there, and spot welded everywhere. That’s how they build ‘em these days – glue and spot welds. Not familiar with spot welding? Well, if you’ve ever seen footage of cars being made on an assembly line and seen the robotic arms come in and make a quick blast of sparks, that’s it. Instead of welding along the seam of the two pieces of metal, the arms pinch them together and just weld a single spot at a time. We’re talking welds the diameter of a common pencil eraser. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? Let me tell, as someone who’s recently spent some time taking these pieces apart, it’s plenty.

Fresh on the heels of the DSM Shootout, I found myself sufficiently motivated to spend more than seven hours in the garage this weekend getting the “new” core support cleaned up and ready for paint. I figure it’s been almost seven months since the accident and I’m getting tired of driving a slow POS Volvo wagon with no radio or AC. I need to get this project wrapped up. So with my trusty laptop running Pandora from the bench and my tools in hand, I got to work.

First order of business was to get the “new” support ready for paint. This meant having it taken apart as far as I think it needs to go and cleaning it for paint. If I plan on it being under fenders, grilles, and all that, and don’t paint it, I know there will be white paint showing through all over the place, so it’s going to get a coat or two of the same flat black as the rest of the car. Painting greasy, dirty sheetmetal is a waste of time, so I spent a couple hours scrubbing it all down with a toothbrush and some of that nasty Castrol degreaser in the purple bottle. The LS Galant Ray and I sourced the core from had some serious power steering issues, as evidenced by the gooey, dirt crusted gnar all over this thing on the driver’s side. There was a lot of scrubbing, but it looks pretty clean now. I set it aside in the sun to dry and got out the “serious tools.”

Prior to breaking out the

EDIT: Inserted picture of damaged front end prior to breaking out the “Serious Tools” (above). It doesn’t look like I removed much, but it was certainly hard work.

“Serious Tools.” What are “serious tools,” you ask? With a handful of sockets, a couple screwdrivers, and maybe some wire cutters, you could take about 80% of a modern car apart. Those sorts of things are now called “common hand tools.” I had a conventional, plug-in drill with a Cobalt drill bit (they don’t break as often as the harder, Titanium bits, imo), a Dremel tool with a fresh pack of metal cut-off discs, a ball been hammer, a 5lb mini sledge hammer, a 3ft pry bar, two smaller pry bars, and no fewer than four screw drivers. [Serious.]

First order of business was to take what I learned from stripping down the “new” core and apply it to the core on 195. I learned what welds did not need drilled out and found a couple more that did. The catch was that the “new” core was unmolested short of Ray and I cutting it off the other car. The core on 195 had been crushed and mangled in a number of places. This made drilling kind of impossible in some areas. That’s where the “serious tools” came in handy. Get the tip of a giant screw driver between two bits of bent sheetmetal and then bash the screwdriver on the end until it splits them. If it doesn’t split them, make a gap big enough to fit the big pry bar between them and commence Sub-Project Rip-Them-Apart.

This was one of those odd projects in which I did not come into any “Why-won’t-you-do-what-I-want-you-to-do” moments. You know, those frustrating times when you’re sure you’ve got everything apart, but things won’t separate, or you’ve got it all back together properly, but the car still won’t start (or runs worse, a common occurrence in my garage). Nope. This weekend, 195 met with the equivalent of a Civil War surgeon. The scalpel and steady hand were inside enjoying the air conditioning while Mr. Hyde beat, smashed, and ripped the damaged bits limb from limb. My only regrets are the larger aluminum splinter I pulled from my knee after a much needed shower and a general soreness in my shoulders and back today.

There is still much left to do, including breaking the seam welds on the driver’s side that Moose and I did a couple years back and finding a Sawzall or something to cut the damaged sidemembers away (the final step in old core removal), but it feels really good to have made some progress. Even if it has been one of the hardest projects I’ve tackled on a car. After all, none of this stuff was originally designed to be removed.

Would you believe I could still start the car and move it in and out of the garage if I wanted?

60% of core removed.

Stopping point for the day.

In the glovebox:

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