Earlier this week, I suggested, through a somewhat clever title, that the thing to do in your second week out of work is to build a crazy-ass rally car out of a dead little tin can your buddy just bought off Craigslist. That might not be the best idea ever, nor is it likely the most search engine friendly title, but it spoke to me in terms of focusing first on doing what you love to do – of following your passion – and doing something, anything, so long as you don’t let those nagging doubts overwhelm you.
I was quoted $1100 by a dealership to replace a leaking head gasket back in 2003. This lead to my first engine build. Think about that for a second. I went to the dealership because I didn’t know how to fix an oil leak on my car and decided that, despite having ZERO experience with major automotive repairs, I would rebuild the entire engine myself for that kind of money.
Nagging doubts. They pile up quickly. Those little voices in your head that tell you, “You can’t do that,” or “You’re not good enough.” If you listen to them enough, you begin to agree with them. Your self-confidence plummets and you become a pitiful mass of self-loathing. Do what you fear most and you control fear. I was scared that I would take my beloved Daisy apart and not be able to get her back together again. I was terrified at the thought of my beautiful, white Talon meeting the same fate as the faded, green parts car we later cut into half a dozen small pieces and threw away.
With the support of my friends – and a little confidence – Daisy returned to the road. Rebuilding that engine was so fascinating, so rewarding an experience, that I found a way to scrape together another $3000 for a head and cams to complete it. The above picture was taken the afternoon John and I finally got Daisy all back together and we had just taken the back road, winding the new mill out to 8500rpm in each gear until the car was almost getting airborne over the dips, to Jill’s place for well-deserved beverages and swimming.
Daisy was a screamer. Not the fastest car on the street by any means, but she could get out of her own way without any trouble at all. There is a feeling you get as you sit in the driver’s seat and reach that key towards the ignition when you know you built the engine under that hood yourself. That feeling is almost as good as the feeling you get when that engine comes to life and you pull out of your parking spot. Sure, I was driving a 97 Eagle Talon, but it was nothing like it was the day I drove it off the showroom floor. Had I not ignored those little doubts, I’d have never known this feeling of automotive ecstasy.
Of course, you can’t rest on your laurels, either. (Not that I have ever actually owned laurels, much less rested upon them.) Less than two years after completing the engine of my dreams (I was an all motor guy, I had no interest in turbos at the time), a wrist pin lock failed in the bottom end and Daisy would go to the sidelines. My only vehicle, my one and only, pride and joy, reason for living, would end up collecting dust in John’s side yard under a tarp for over seven months while I waited for a trusted-vendor-gone-shady to deliver the new set of custom pistons I’d ordered. Those nagging little doubts returned and grew louder by the day.
The pistons finally came in and John and I got to work. I decided to change the look under the hood a bit and painted everything black aside from the engine, which we did in bright silver. The valve cover and some other assorted bits were painted in a graphite grey metallic, which looked really hot when it was all together. Daisy was back and, even though the clutch would fail catastrophically just three days later, we overcame the voices that were now screaming at me in the back of my mind that I had no business doing this stuff. A week after that, Daisy returned to the road until such time as my Kansas driver’s license and student ID expired, forcing me to park her, since she wouldn’t pass emissions in Arizona.
Today, Daisy is owned by someone else. Her heart, the screaming, high compression race engine John and I built (a couple times), now rests under the hood of my friend Kim’s silver Eclipse. That engine sounds as sweet as it ever did. Despite not being able to legally drive her (emissions failure), I still felt as if I could never enjoy another car as much as I loved Daisy. You can’t escape those doubts. They transform continuously to try and bring you down.
So it’s important to follow your dreams, your passion, wherever it might take you. These days, I’m following a path towards rally racing. I got 195/2000 specifically to build into a rally car. I don’t love it the way I loved Daisy. Nor do I love 464/1000, which I actually bought with money from the sale of Daisy, but by pursuing my rally passion, I gained a lot of experience working on a completely new platform, one which was almost completely opposite what I’d been doing in the past.
I didn’t see myself as getting in over my head, but taking those first steps towards what I really, truly want to do with cars and with my life. Suddenly, I wake up and realize that I’ve got almost three years’ experience working on Galant VR4s under my belt. I’ve taken a sawzall to the front end of a Galant VR4 and matched up a new front end in my driveway so well that you wouldn’t know it had been in an accident if you saw it on the street. I’ve busted my ass working on 195/2000 and learned so much about these cars that now I’m helping my friend Keith work on his GVR4s since he’s so busy.
And that, my wonderful, patient friend, is why there will be no UNEMPLOYED: Week 3. I am officially employed (part time by choice) working on Keith’s Mitsubishis. Once I get 1082/2000 running, I’m going to put an engine and transmission into his un-badged GVR4 at the shop, and then we’re building an Evo III rally car out of a 95 Mirage sedan he bought last week. If there’s no wrenches to turn, then I’ll be helping out on the electronics design/fabrication/testing side of the business.
Now I get to hone my skills further doing what I love – working on cars – with time to develop my writing online, and I’m even dipping my toes back into the tech sector, which was where I was eight years ago when I moved to the valley. I get to spend time outside, driving around in search of this part or that tool I need while I’m working on the Galants, and on top of everything else, I’m helping out a friend in the process. All because I decided to follow my passion.
If you find a negative, pessimistic doubt cross your mind, tell yourself the exact opposite. Fuck doubt. It’s your head… keep it.
If you find you’re interested in more detailed accounts of what I’m doing on one of the Galants, maybe even the Evo project once it gets underway, please check out my other site, Tarmac & Gravel. This week, I’ve posted three articles detailing the issues with 1082/2000.