johnc

Drill a hole in the seat mount just large enough to get a proper sized nut thorugh it. Weld the nut to a large fender washer. Put the fender washer/nut combo nut down into the hole. Weld the fender washer to the seat mount.

I've yet to actually see any L6 powered vehicle change idle speed when the oil cap is removed. The crankcase is vented to atmosphere via the air intake box or air cleaner assembly and a PCV controls crankcase ventillation into the intake manifold. My first guess about the problem posted is that the PCV valve is stuck, open.

An Acetone bomb! Were you smoking when you did this?

I can't possibly compete with $5. Hook your air compressor up to one opening and plug the others, pressurize it, and put it in a 5 gallon bucket of water. Look for bubbles.

Use the search function above. All your questions have been answered many, many times before.

Use the search function above. Lots of information about shocks for the Z on this site.

BTW... A/F and O2 sensor's don't get "damaged" from a few runs by a dirty car. On my engine I ran a 3 wire O2 sensor for two years while running 112 octane leaded fuel. Sensor worked just fine.

I give it a big, loud: BULLSHIT!

The air on top of the diffuser creates the downforce as it tries to move through the top of the diffuser to get the low pressure area. Air in the fuel tank area is necessary to make the diffuser work. I'm concerned with the pan underneath the diffuser in this application. The diffuser should be open to the ground. There's a chance that ground level air will be at a higher pressure then the air flowing through the diffuser which would cause pressure on the bottom side of the pan, negating the downforce.

WTF? http://www.reuters.com/printerFriendlyPopup.jhtml?type=ourWorldNews&storyID=5912350

Next time try Superior Automotive in Anaheim: http://www.superiorautomotive.com

Use the search function above.

In the US, most race sanctioning bodies define pump gas as fuel that's Department of Transportation and EPA approved and has taxes collected on it.

The strength is not so much in the ring gear size (200mm vs. 180mm) as its in the differential unit. A R180 with a Nissan Comp LSD or a Quaife will be able to handle more horsepower without breaking then an open differential R200. And a R200 with a Nissan Comp LSD and/or a Quaife will be even stronger. I ran 320 horsepower through my R180s for a few years without any problems. All the R180s I used had Quaife ATBs. When you get into some big horsepower numbers (400+) then the ring gear size plays a more important part in overall unit strength. Jeff Priddy has had problems with R200 ring gears failing at the 600+ horsepower level. As a broad generalization, if you can run a R180 without breaking it then you're better off. Its lighter and has better driver's side halfshaft angles then a R200.

If you mean an hourglass shape under the car, that kind of shape is less effective then a flat bottom with front and rear diffusers. The old ground effects designs induced huge amounts of drag. The new flat bottom designs generate equal or more downforce with almost no drag. Lots and lots of great info and pictures here: http://www.mulsannescorner.com/

Yes, if the downforce generator is behind the rear wheels. An example is the rear spoiler I built for my car and ran in the last OTC. It generated more downforce then the BRE rear spoiler I was runnign for years before. Without making any changes to the front I ended up with aero understeer in corners at speeds over 90 mph. The car was very well balanced at speeds under 90 mph so mechanical grip was well sorted. Overall lap times were the same so the aero understeer offset the increased grip at the rear and the net effect was a more difficult car to drive at speed. If only my splitter idea had worked...

Blown seals sometimes are caused by the shock bottoming or topping out. Are you running bump stops?

Great! I would like to see the pictures. The closer you can run the diffuser to the ground, the more effective it will be. Best case you can figure about 150 lbs. of downforce if you do a good job controlling air spilling under the car from the sides. If a real, working wing is mounted at the back of the car you might see an increase of about 25 lbs of downforce thru the diffuser. The wing needs to be positioned as close to the diffuser exit as possible, but that might make the wing less effective and negate the increased efficiency of the diffuser. Ultimately, the rear of your car needs to be shaped exactly like the rear of the Audi R8s... http://www.mulsannescorner.com/audir8-01-6.html

From http://www.signonsandiego.com/uniontrib/20040731/news_1n31valor.html Valor defined - Marines confront, overcome the crucible of Fallujah By Rick Rogers STAFF WRITER July 31, 2004 FALLUJAH, Iraq – The citations for valor read like scenes from a movie, and it's only through cinematic comparisons that Cpl. Howard Lee Hampton Jr. can describe the combat his Camp Pendleton unit saw here in April. "It was beyond anything in 'Black Hawk Down,' " said Hampton, 21, referring to the movie about the actual downing of two U.S. helicopters in 1993 Somalia and the harrowing rescue operation in which the lives of 18 American soldiers were lost. "I remember going into the city in the (amphibious assault vehicle) and hearing the bullets hit off the sides. "When the door opened, I thought about the scene in "Saving Private Ryan" when they were coming up to the beach and that guy got hit right in the head before he ever got to the beach," Hampton said, this time conjuring up the movie account of D-Day during World War II. "Once we got in the city, we had hundreds and hundreds of people trying to kill us," said the native of El Paso, Tex., recalling how the cascade of enemy shell casings from windows above the Marines sounded like a never-ending slot machine payout. "We survived in Fallujah because everyone put the Marine next to him ahead of themselves," said Hampton, an infantryman with Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment. "Everyone did so much more than they had to." More than 50 Marines from Echo Company have been recognized for valor between March 18 and April 26, when they went into Fallujah to root out insurgents after four civilian contract workers were murdered and two of the bodies hanged from a bridge. The battalion's Fox Company has recommended about 20 Marines for medals. "My boys are superheroes," said Capt. D.A. Zembiec, the Echo company commander who climbed atop a tank while under fire to guide it to where his men were pinned down. "I got guys with two Purple Hearts still out here working." Echo Company's role in the battle for Fallujah began April 6, when two platoons – about 80 men – were ordered into the northwest section of the city, launching a month of street-by-street fighting that would claim the lives of several hundred insurgents and an estimated 600 civilians. As word of the violence spread, the media gathered for a closer look. "One reporter said, 'It can't be that bad,' " recalled 1st Sgt. William Skiles, Echo Company's top enlisted man. "Well," Skiles recalled, "the Armored Assault Vehicle had just stopped to let the media off when the first (assault rifle) rounds flew overhead. Then came the (rocket propelled grenades). There weren't a whole lot of stories filed that day because the reporters were face down in the dirt." During the encounter, journalists often asked Skiles, 43, of San Juan Capistrano, for information for their reports about the fighting, but he thought they were missing something. "I kept thinking: What about valor? Why weren't any of the reporters interested in the valor of our Marines? "All anyone wants to write about is our dead and wounded," he said, thumbing through military papers that included nominations for Silver and Bronze stars. Although only a few of the medal nominations have been approved so far, The San Diego Union-Tribune was allowed to review the submissions on condition that no detailed information be revealed. All of the top medal nominations arose from a single day's action April 26. It was also Echo Company's last day of heavy fighting in Fallujah before the Marines pulled out under a cease-fire that has created the current stalemate: Insurgents control the city, the Marines control the surrounding countryside. The day started routinely when Marines searched a mosque that gunmen had been using to direct fire on the Americans. Finding only shell-casings below the minaret windows overlooking their position, the Marines left the mosque and moved deeper into the city and occupied a few houses. All was quiet until about 11 a.m., when insurgents killed one Marine and wounded 10 others in a coordinated attack that lasted three hours. "The minaret that we had just cleared suddenly came alive with sniper fire," Skiles said. At the same time, the Marines in the houses were hit by grenades, rocket-propelled grenades and machine-gun fire from the roofs of adjoining houses. Within minutes, 100 to 150 heavily armed insurgents attacked in waves. At times, the Marines and the enemy were only 25 yards apart. The hardest hit Marines were on a rooftop where they were swarmed from three directions by insurgents throwing scores of grenades and firing at least 30 RPGs within the first 15 minutes of fighting. Thousands of bullets peppered the area. Nine of the Marines were wounded almost immediately. Aaron C. Austin and Carlos Gomez-Perez, both lance corporals, were on that rooftop and have been nominated for high honors, Austin posthumously. After the initial barrage, Austin, a machine gunner, evacuated the wounded and then rallied the Marines to counter-attack. "We've got to get back on the roof and get on that gun," Austin, from Sunray, Tex., is reported to have said, referring to a Marine machine gun. The Marines returned fire, but as Austin started to throw a grenade, he was hit several times in the chest by machine gun fire. Although mortally wounded, Austin threw his grenade, which hit the enemy and halted their attack. A memorial to him – a cement bench – sits outside the Echo Company barracks at Camp Baharia. Austin was 21. Gomez-Perez was hit in the cheek and shoulder by machine gun fire while dragging a wounded comrade to safety. "Ignoring his serious injuries . . . Gomez-Perez, in direct exposure to enemy fire, continued to throw grenades and fire four magazines from his M-16 rifle. Still under fire and with his injured arm, he and another Marine gave CPR (to Austin) and continued to fire on the enemy," read his medal nomination. Gomez-Perez is recuperating stateside. His age and hometown weren't immediately available. Marines at another house were also under heavy attack, and four were wounded. Lance Cpl. John Flores, 21, from Temple City, held a key position outside the house protecting the left flank. "Around 11 a.m., I heard explosions and I remember a Marine scream," he recalled. "It was a scream I'll never forget, and I hope I never hear again. I had heard the scream before. It was the scream that someone was messed up. It scared me." Flores said he traded fire with insurgents 20 yards away. When a Humvee arrived to get the wounded, Flores laid down hundreds of rounds of protective fire during a deafening exchange. "As one of the corpsman ran to the house, bullets hit right behind him against a wall. Everyone said Doc Duty was faster than bullets that day," said Flores, who was twice wounded by shrapnel during the action. "Doc" is Petty Officer 3rd Class Jason Duty, a 20-year-old Navy corpsman from New Concord, Ohio. "Despite extreme personal danger from small arms fire and exploding ordnance, Flores remained in his tenuous position, delivering devastating fire on enemy forces as they attempted to reinforce their attack," his nomination stated. When the Marines pulled back to a safer position later that day, Flores could have left the city to get medical treatment, but he didn't have the heart to leave his fellow Marines. He doesn't like to think about Fallujah, though he is proud of what Echo Company did there. "I think I did real good that day, but a lot of people did real good. I was scared, but I just did it," Flores said. "I think about what happened in the city and the people wounded and killed. We think about them a lot. No one from this company will ever forget what we did out here." Lance Cpl. Craig Bell got mad when he was nearly killed by an enemy grenade. And then he got even. "You know when they say that things slow down?" asked Bell, 20, from Del City, Okla. "That's what happened when I saw the grenade. "It was a pineapple grenade with a cherry-red tip," Bell said. "I didn't think they even made grenades like that anymore. It was like something from a World War II movie." Bell ducked behind a pigeon coop for cover. He "heard explosions and shooting in real time" while he seemed to drift into space. "I watched the grenade for what seemed like forever until it went off . . . but I talked to Marines later and they said it all happened in a split second." The blast wounded Bell in the right side and jump-started the clock. "I thought, 'That's it!" said Bell, a grenadier. "I thought about my wife and daughter and not doing anything stupid. But I was just so angry that he had thrown a grenade at me that I didn't care. I was going to take someone out." He grabbed ammunition for his grenade launcher and started blowing up rooms from which insurgents were firing, estimating he launched 100 rounds in about an hour. Despite his wounds, Bell "expertly placed high-explosive around through the windows of adjacent buildings," reads his medal recommendation. "Without his brave actions, 2nd platoon would have been hard-pressed to hold their position and evacuate wounded Marines." "I was proud to be a part of something so brave and so strong," Bell said. "I know what I did. I saved someone's life, and I know that what other people did saved me." Not all of the heroics focused on the enemy. The corpsman, Duty, and Sgt. Skiles were recognized for evacuating wounded Marines while exposed to unrelenting fire. Duty braved enemy fire four times to load Marines into a Humvee driven by Skiles, who coordinated the rescue. "I do remember thinking I was in trouble about the third trip because that's when the volume of fire increased a lot," Duty said. "When we were loading the last guy, they chucked a hand grenade at our Humvee and it hit the hood. It rolled off and didn't explode. I think they were trying to throw it in the back where the wounded were being loaded." Duty's medal nomination reads: "As bullets impacted within inches of his head, Duty remained resolute in his mission." Skiles was lauded for evacuating the Marines and for his leadership in combat. Part of his lengthy medal nomination states: "Without his courage, his company would not have been able to evacuate his wounded in the expeditious manner – and more Marines would have been exposed to danger longer. "Skiles' combat leadership is the metal weld that holds his company together during times of adversity." It will be weeks, perhaps months, before the Marine Corps approves any decorations, especially the higher ones. By then, the Echo Company Marines probably will be back at Camp Pendleton. And Hampton will be left with only his memories of what Echo Company did because as he'll tell you: "They honestly cannot make a movie about what we went through. Every Marine did so much more than what they had to do, from the littlest private first class to the commanding officer. Everyone did so much more." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Union-Tribune staff writer Rick Rogers and staff photographer Nelvin Cepeda are accompanying Camp Pendleton-based Marines in Iraq.

I goofed and I think I posted the calculation for stress. Here's the right one: rate = ( wireDia^4 * 1470000 ) / ( coilDia^3 * numCoils ) "^" means: to the power of. Using you numbers above we get: (.5^4 * 1,470,000) / (3.875^3 * 7.5) = 210 lb. in. Sorry.

First method, starting with the part over 600F, keeping it over 600F during the welding process, weld it using Stainless 308L filler, and slow post-cool down over 8 hours back to room temperarature.

Oh Geez! Are you walking the streets with those parts?

Those that need a short summary are the subjects of the article.

From American Digest http://www.americandigest.org/mt-archives/000990.php#000990 Goodbye to the Way We Were A friend with whom I have a daily correspondence takes great pleasure in needling me on my, shall we say, rather adamantine position on the First Terrorist War. Last March, while I was trapped on a Cruise Ship somewhere deep inside the sixth circle of Hell, was an ideal time to set me up since it was the moment in which, as he puts it, "...the common citizens of Spain and France are saying 'Tell us again what this got us, other than lots of angry teenagers with bombs?'" Although light on the facts that keep coming to light, he's right about the attitude. What, just what, was in the Terrorist War for Spain other than pain and death in Iraq and Madrid? In the short term, there seems to be nothing in this war for any one fighting terror than pain and death. That's certainly true when it comes to the United States. We are at the stage of the struggle that brings to mind Churchill's proclamation that he had nothing to offer except, "blood, sweat and tears." We've had those constantly as our media is so keen to remind us every few minutes of every day. Another factor seems to be that our leadership has become, shall we say, less than inspiring and more like Monty Hall in "Let's Make A Deal." In addition, we've been spending a great deal of our money on a country on the other side of the world that would not otherwise concern us. Finally, we're seeing a host of our fellow citizens so immersed in their hatred of the current president that the impression we are hip-deep in demented traitors is hard to shake. All of these things conspire, on a daily basis, to shake our belief in ourselves, our institutions and our commitment to rid the world of the scourge of terrorism. It's a daily drip feed of despair and estrangement that's the stock and trade of a significant chorus of Americans to whom the country, as conceived by our founders, and struggled for for more than 200 years is merely a large joke. I should know. I was part of the crafting of the joke and for years I thought there was nothing funnier. Conceived during the waning months of World War II, I had no idea I was a Baby Boomer, but that, in the end, was what I was. And being a member of this large and fortunate generation gave me the leisure to develop quite a sense of humor when it came to basic human values. When I was a student at the University of California at Berkeley in the late 1960s, we were busy inventing a brave new world where everything about the old world of our parents seemed either hilarious or evil. God, if he didn't emerge from 500 mikes of prime LSD, was just a funny old guy a little bit like Santa Claus but with less of a user base. The Bill of Rights was okay as long as you could figure out someway to erase a few of the amendments involving guns and add a host of new ones involving groups. The Constitution? Too long and too arcane to really read. History? The only really happening history was the future, man. The United States? They were really "Amerikkka" -- Satan incarnate. The US Military? Baby killers and agents of Satan. The Police? Pigs. The Viet Cong, Fidel Castro, and a host of other evil dictators and fascists? Heroes of "The People." The People? Really wonderful as long as you didn't really have to hang out with them. Voting in political parties? Stupid. We were into "participatory democracy" which involved really long meetings -- this is now known as "emergent democracy" and involves really long online discussion threads. We believed in sex and drugs and rock and roll. We were determined to resist "the man" on all levels. We were young. And we were very, very stupid for college kids. Check that. We were stupid because we were college kids. Many of us, decades later, are still there and even dumber. We're professors now and our ability to be dumb has never been deeper. Others of us are well ensconced in the various parts of what passes for the media. We're there with a lot of others just like us and, even if we thought differently, we'd never say it for fear of losing regard, position, grants, or promotion. Besides, we've been around others who think like us for so long its no problem at all to top up the latte and nod in blind agreement. We never sold out. We bought in. But we kept the Che poster in our hearts. And in our hearts, we're a lot like the Spanish Socialist Party: In love with privilege, comfort, money and safety. Afraid of the wrath of those who, unlike us that believe in nothing, believe in something so deeply that they'll kill and die for it. As a result, we like the slogans, books, and publications that confirm for us the deep liberal dream that if we are just understanding enough, long enough, and offer enough in the way of bribes, the oppressed of the world will come to love us and then just leave us alone. Like the Spanish, we believe that by selling off our ideals we'll receive, in return, peace and cheap vacation rentals in France and Greece for the rest of our lives. Like the Spanish, a lot of us believe that by just being nice we'll be left alone to wallow in our prosperity. Like the Spanish, we've come to believe that there's nothing in it for us except "teenagers with bombs." Like I said, people of my 60s generation are very, very dumb. And, it would seem, we've bred children who are even dumber than we are. We are now into, as far as dumb liberalism is concerned, deep into the third generation of dumb. You don't have to look very far to see that while the dumb teenager might be the Terrorist's first choice when it comes to delivery vehicles, that teenager isn't the one choosing the target, setting the timer, choosing the target, or buying the bomb. That sort of thing is left to the "leadership" which is far too valuable to expend itself on direct attacks. Nor do you have to look very far to understand what the goals of the leadership are. You are told in sermon after sermon throughout the Muslim world week after week. But those of my generation who are invested in the foolishness of their youth cannot hear these words and believe them. Since they come from a culture where words seldom have any consequences as long as you choose the right ones, words don't seem like weapons to them. Words, to my generation, are merely poses at best or the glib lyrics of some pot-drenched rock song at the worst. The Terrorist War scares my generation more deeply than bombs in Madrid put the fear into the once proud Spanish. It is something that is in ernest and it is something that will not go away. What scares them the most is that it is about something my generation understands only as one of the great standing jokes of our youth: Religion. My "people" don't really get religion unless it comes with a lot of New Age claptrap or a heft dose of Zen. Pure Christianity or Orthodox Judism is far, far outside our ken. Where previous generations could write, as late as 1927, the sentiments found in the Desiderata: "You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should." "Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful." "Strive to be happy." My generation was the one that came up with the variation called the Deteriorata : "You are a fluke of the Universe. You have no right to be here, and whether you can hear it or not, The Universe is laughing behind your back. " "Therefore make peace with your God whatever you conceive him to be, Hairy Thunderer or Cosmic Muffin. " "With all its hopes, dreams, promises and urban renewal, The world continues to deteriorate. " "Give up." I believe that the ultimate bible of the 60s boomers, the National Lampoon, first came up with that one. I remember how funny we all thought it was. A laugh riot and, well, so true too. So right on. But when you get a little further down the road and look back, if you have learned anything at all, you'll have learned to cherish the sentiment of the first and despise the mocking nothingness in the latter. But my generation, being eternally drenched in a mindless nostalgia for its weird youth, refuses to learn that. It believes that the answer to the great crisis which has been brought to us in the last three years is to make a sign that says " I heart New York more without the twin towers," parade about in the streets and, when confronted with the death of your fellow citizens, to stand firmly in solidarity with the people of Spain and say, "Give up." When I look at the spectacle that my Boomer generation has made of itself, a generation that had everything going for it and did little with it, all I can say is: "I resign. I'm joining the resistance." Posted by Vanderleun at July 31, 2004 06:57 AM

He's 19. In this country he's not a kid anymore. He's an adult and deserves to be treated as such.