I stated previously that in early '06 life became pretty hectic with both a full time job and attending school full time. Things got even trickier in the spring of 2007. I had saved about 2k in cash and it was burning a hole in my pocket (more like taunting me from my fireproof safe, you can never be too careful with roommates). I convinced myself that buying some Edelbrock 60499 aluminum heads for my 454 would be the pinnacle of awesome. Then I realized that the $920 assembled price tag was for one cylinder head, not a pair.
Wow, that would have been quite the investment. For that kind of money I would likely be able to acquire another project vehicle in Arizona and quell the wrenchin' bug that ate at me while separate from the Suburban. Hmm, what kind of vehicle?
A 67-72 2wd short fleet could have been nice, plus, I knew the body style inside and out Even the fixer uppers were outside the limits of my initial budget though. A LWB could be had for much cheaper, but I didn't have access to a shop or welder to try my hand at shortening the frame and bed down. I spotted a straight 2wd suburban in front of a carpet place and went in to ask about it. That one could have been acquired for the entirety of my budget, which would leave me with no money for inevitable maintenance and repairs. I occasionally perused Craigslist ads, calling a few owners of trucks and burbs for a while, kind of getting a feel for what was out there.
My vehicle history thus far had included the Suburban, that Dodge D50 pickup, An Olds 98 (with all the amenities an early nineties Florida retiree could need or want) and another SUV. It was then that the epiphany came. “Know what,” I thought to myself, “I've never owned a sports car.” That was it, I wanted to find out what it was like to own something fast and light that didn't have seating for an entire family. What kind of sporty car could I find for under 2 grand that'd be old enough for exemption from emissions testing in most states?
This was getting kind of exciting. Those Suburbans and cheap LWB C10s from Craigslist were on the back burner now.
Chevy II/Nova? Maybe. Same general time period as my Suburban, lots of mechanical similarities.
Honda? Too new, too F&F.
1st gen Ford Mustang? Too much initial financial outlay.
BMW 2002? Again, too much initial investment.
Sixties 2 door Plymouth? Kinda cool, but didn't feel right.
Datsun 240Z? What's that? Is that what Nissan used to be called?
Wait, Datsun made a sports car? Bone stock it had fully independent suspension, power front disk brakes, weighed 2350 lbs, came with an overhead cam 7 main bearing straight six with both a forged crankshaft and rods, was fed by dual side-draft carburetors and all of that came paired with a manual transmission in 1970?
After lots of online research I bought the fourth one I had ever seen with my own eyes, cracked fiberglass cowl induction hood and all.
Now I had two vehicles in Arizona (where I was a college student living in a rented room) and one in Utah. One of the three ran.
“Wait,” you say to yourself, “wasn't I reading a thread about an American made Chevrolet Suburban up until just a minute ago?
Yes, yes you were but you've fallen into my devious trap. Muahhahhaaaahhaaha!
Ow, my vocal chords hurt now.
No, you haven't really fallen into a trap. I'll get back to the Suburban shortly.
I mention the Z because I bought it with the idea of doing all of the work myself (many thanks to the guys on the HybridZ.org forums for their help along the way). I had to see for myself that I could bring a vehicle back to life. My $900 rust free non-runner went on to become an engine swapped N/A little rocket with 100 more horsepower than it left the factory with. And I did do all the work myself with simple tools, on the concrete floor of my landlord / roommate's garage, including rebuilding an engine on a big sheet of cardboard.
Here's an example of the engine bay.
Before:
After:
That's all of my slight deviation for now. I promise it has an influence on the rest of the Suburban story later down the road.
I had determined that this crazy hobby was both A: a horribly debilitating disease and B: sometimes a means to an end. Plus, I was finally able to appease the wrenching bug that ate at me during those long months I was separate from my Suburban.