GRUNT!

After two (vacation!) days of work, I have got Ferd' into the garage for the winter. This was more of a feat of concentration and 'find a way' than it sounds. The only two parts of me that don't hurt right now are my left big toe and my right ear.

The first order of business was to 'clean' the garage. I wish I could say that my garage is orderly; it is not. It is overflow for the house. Anything my beloved wife deems to be underfoot goes to the garage. In a not-too-big house, that's a lot. Two years ago, a shed was added behind the garage, and promptly filled with the outdoor tool contents of our old shed (Lawn mower, idiot-sticks, etc.) on the assumption that the old shed would come down. It turns out the old shed was still quite useful, even though the doors had been torn off in a hurricane, so the next summer the new shed contents was moved back to it...just in time for my in-laws to come to NJ (for which is am profoundly grateful) and we needed to park some of the items that would not fit in their apartment in the shed. It has only been in the last month that I've been able to use the space in the new shed for the purpose it was constructed: storage of my stuff.

I took all of one day to sort every box, bundle, bag, and bin, consolidating into bins everything that wasn't automotive related. Woodworking tools, saws, fasteners, electrical, plumbing, refinishing...everything into bins and into the shed and packed densely. And during the process I purged three 55 gallon sized garbage cans of 'trash.' Not all of it was, 'garbage' having no use at all. But merely, 'trash-to-me' including items that I no longer needed, and took up too much karmic space and needed to be permanently out of sight so that I could free the mental space they took up keeping track of them. It was miserable work, just above freezing, and raining, and I couldn't safely light the kerosene space heater to take off the chill in the garage because there was too much stuff packed too closely to it.

This picture lies. The actual space before airing down the tires was
minus 1.25 inches. A very tight fit. Note the long lumber at the left wedged
into the frame to hold the roll-up door all of the way open.

After 14 hours of cleaning, I finally had a space to put the bus, and still was held in the jaws of a dilemma: I knew that the bus was too tall to fit through the under-height door of the garage. My original intent was to put the bus on 'wheel dollies,' that are designed to let you push the vehicle around once it is in the garage, rolling it to make the best use of space in a small area. Instead of putting the tires up on these as designed, I was going to lift the vehicle, remove the wheels and set the brake discs and drums right down in the wheel dollies, which would shave off 6 inches minimum and still make it easy to move.

Then I got screwed over the cost of the Wheel Dollies. What was an online price was not the store price. You can't ship these things, they weight 25 lbs apiece. In addition, I read that the models that I was considering (Harbor Freight, no surprise) were rugged but that the casters were garbage and did not roll easily because they didn't even have bearings in the wheels! So that left me without a solution. A friend at work (who has watched the project with interest, even though VWs are not his thing) suggested letting air out of the tires until it would fit through. Stuck without any other solution, I decided to pursue this.

There was still one issue left to come out. I woke in the middle of the night before I was going to begin preparations with the feeling that I was missing something, and then I realized what it was and groaned. The bus was currently 'tail in.' Rolling it directly into the garage wouldn't work if I were to try to remove the engine: There would be no space to pull the engine out from under the vehicle, and with the vehicle up on jack stands, it wouldn't be able to roll it forward from over the engine either. The whole bus needed to turned to go in nose first. My back started to ache sympathetically.

A Spirograph turn, backing and forthing.

Late on the second day, I aired up the tires to maximum pressure to lower their rolling resistance, and then K-turned the bus in the driveway (it was more of a Spirograph turn) with much backing and filling, grunting and shoving. Despite my sore carcass, I'm pleased. A year ago I was in a serious car accident that shattered my left collarbone, totaled my car and almost totaled myself. I successfully shoved more than a ton of Bus around by myself in a graded driveway after what had already been two long days of stooping, sorting and carrying heavy bins. But there is a more technical reason to be content: the bus rolled along happily, without any beefing from the bearings or the brakes. This from a vehicle that had sat for a LONG time. Is there a possibility that I might be able to replace the brake hoses, bleed the brakes and they "just work?" Maybe.

It doesn't look that big inside, until you realize that I was pressed against the
opposite wall of the garage just to get the whole vehicle in the frame.
The optics also distort the size, as the camera  field is beginning to fish-eye.

With the Bus ready to take the dive, I aired down the tires and had my wife come out to spot the top of the bus and make sure there were no accidents. I brought my commuter car up behind the bus, and pushed it in, with my wife showing distance between roof and the top of the garage door frame. We cleared with no issues. Once inside, I quickly aired up the tires again, not wanting these ancient rubber skins to separate at the wheel bead and leave the bus unable to roll.

Done, with the sun going down on the second day of a two day break. I came away from the whole affair quite satisfied, not only for having succeeded in making an over-winter working space for the vehicle, but also with myself for having, throughout the two days, made hundreds of judgement calls over what could be put off to another time, and what needed to be done immediately to 'get the bus in.'

For Sake of Argument

There has been a long running fracas on thesamba.com (is there any other kind there?) about whether the Subaru engine conversion for a VW Bus is 'worth it.' Of course, opinions are like...well, you know the quote. Some people have so many opinions, you'd think they had two.

So having just as many opinions as the average bear, I figured I'd toss my hat in the ring and see who shot it off. I'm republishing here because I think it sums up the arguments on both sides pretty well:

Roger, go for throttle up....

This weekend was a delight of spending time with family over Thanksgiving, my mother's birthday, and not being at my day job. It was also the first substantial chance I've had to start clearing the way for the bus project to move forward. I spent time in the garage getting thing picked up: the place has been a dumping ground for every tool, sanding block, and screw that has had to leave the house as part of general cleanup. This means that there is no order, only chaos. And every tool that I do not immediately need for vehicle work must vacate to the shed. There is going to be a large bus in the middle of my garage really soon...

But despite playing Tetris with too many bins and too little space, I broke loose some time on Saturday to wrench the old battery out, and get the temporary one (the AGM from my father's wheelchair) installed so that I might be able to test an engine start.

From the beginning, I could see that this wasn't going to be any sort of fun. The working space for putting heavy stress on frozen bolts is absolutely impossible. In this case, the bracket on the battery that holds the it in place at the right rear of the vehicle (so the battery doesn't go sailing across the engine compartment during a sharp right turn) was one solid chunk of rust, frozen together permanently. I don't have any illusions about the battery tray: it is going to have to come out...all of it. So I wasn't too concerned with doing any more damage in there than 12 years of overflowing battery acid had done. But that bracket really hung on for dear life. It took about an hour of prying, grinding, etc, before I was able to lever the battery out of the bracket (without puncturing the battery) and out.

Once I had a little more space, I went to replace the battery ground cable. The existing one looked like someone had replaced the original with 6 gauge cable salvaged from an electric fence. I replaced it with a long, 20" insulated cable 2AWG, which ought to really help. (Never, ever cheap out on your power cables.) One of the added benefits of the long ground wire is that it lets American batteries that have their ground terminal on the right to be used just as easily as the factory fit ones. (Group 42, for those of you who want an original battery. I'll probably go bigger, as the cost is not much different, it bolts into the same bracket location, and you can considerably up-size your Cold Cranking Amps for pennies relative to power when you really need it.)

With the battery hooked up, I realized that Ferd' had juice for the first time on a decade. Let's see what we can see:

Key to RUN

Running Lights: OK
Headlights (High & Low): OK
Backup Lights: OUT (Check fuse, then bulbs, then transmission switch)
Turn indicators: OUT, nothing at the stalk nor by hazard switch. Check fuse 8 and 12, but I suspect the flasher unit. $13.
Interior cab: Fwd lamp OUT, rear lamp OK
Radio: OK
Warning Indicators: Oil, Battery, Turn OK // EGR UNKNOWN // High Beam: OUT
Rear window defrost: NOT TESTED
BA6 heater: NOT TESTED

This went better than expected. No vast surprises; frankly I was pretty pleased. So I decided that there was no harm in going for broke and trying for an engine start. This was a foolishly optimistic thing, but since the current exercise is to determine the state of the engine and make it run if practical, then it was a golden opportunity: If the engine lit off and started, I jump to the front of the line for the next thing sparing lots of dogged checking, measuring, etc.

The Two Frogs

Ttwo frogs once fell into a vat of cream.
One frog sees how hopeless the situation was,
gives up and drowns.
The other is too stupid to know he's

licked, so he keeps kicking away, and eventually

churns himself a little island of butter that he

perches on until the milkmaid comes and chucks him out.

Paying the Piper

Well, the opportunities for free diagnostics, et all, have ended. It is time to start making purchases.

Having pushed through many projects on a budget of 'pay as you go' and 'whatever it takes' and 'we're in too deep to stop now' I have decided that we're going to treat this project differently. I'm going to keep track of every blasted nickel on this project, and I'm going to factor in how much I have done cost avoidance, and keep the refurbishment of the vehicle separate from cost of putting the engine back in running order, that way those who wish to watch the costs mount for a refurb in process can do so, even if they have no need to pursue an engine rebuild.

In the blog format, its going to be a little interesting to see this information, since I will constantly have to link back to this page as time marches on. I'm going to try to reference what the source of the part was, that way I have a clear understanding when I'm done of how much had to be sourced 'used' instead of new.

Costs of General Refurbishment to Date (e.g. everything that isn't the engine itself.) 

General Components, Supplies and Services purchased to date: $686

Replacement BA6 Heater, Complete: $80 (skills@eurocarsplus, thesamba)

Center Sliding Windows from 78+ Riviera: $150 (Torrance, CA, thesamba)

Left Rear solid window glass: $10 (Maple Grove Bugout)
Replacement Fuel Tank: $30 (Maple Grove Bugout)
Wiper Motor, Linkage and assembly: $25 (All Aircooled Gathering)
2x  5x7 brown carpet for center section replacement: $36 (Big Lots)

Fuel Tank Sealer: $62 (POR15 PN: S7Q)

Muriatic Acid 1gal: $7 (Home Depot)
2x Shift Rod Boots ($11, WW)
Front Shift Rod Bushing ($5.50, WW)
Rear Shift Bushing ($4, WW)
2x Middle Shift Bushings ($8, WW)
Fuel Filler Neck ($19, BD)
Fuel Filler Lower Elbow (Dodge/Mercedes, $14)
Fuel Sending Unit ($39, BD)
Cab Shifter Boot ($6, BD)
20" Battery Ground Cable: $10 (Autozone PN: GT220B)
Positive Battery Terminal End 4AWG  $10 (Autozone)
Corroseal Rust Converting Primer 1qt: $23 (Home Depot SKU: 324826)
3x Catalyzing Primer ($15 Lowes)
10x Brake Cleaner ($40 Autozone)
Rear Hatch door ($120 Manny Parnossin)

Costs Avoided or Offset to Net Positive: +$398

Bosch Fuel Pump, refurbed, tested: +$250
Bosch Fuel Pressure Regulator, refurbed, tested: +$90
Return of Strut Compressor: +$58

Costs of Engine Restoration to Date:

Engine Components, Supplies and Services purchased: $721

Custom Fabricated PCV Hose: $32.50 (GeeBee Racing, thesamba)

Custom Fabricated Decel Hose: $45.50 (GeeBee Racing, thesamba)

Custom Fabricated S-Boot: $75 (GeeBee Racing, thesamba)

General Vacuum Hose $4 (Advance Autoparts)

General EVAP hose $4 (Advance Autoparts)
Watts Vinyl Hose 1/2"ID x 10ft, $3 (Evap Can to Air Cleaner Housing, Home Depot)

Fuel Filter $7 (BD)
Engine Degreaser: $8 (Autozone)

3x PB Blaster $12 (Lowes)
4x FI hose clamps: $3 (Autozone)

1 meter 3/8" J30R9 FI hose: $12 (Autozone)

1 meter 1/4" J30R9 FI hose: $12 (Autozone)
Replacement Points set: $8.50 (Autozone)
Intake Manifold Boots ($15, BD)

Throttle Body Gasket ($6, BD)
Ex Manifold Copper Gaskets 5 ($7.50, BD)
Used T2B Heat Exchangers ($265, Bob Hays)
VDO Fuel Press Gauge ($25, JEGS)
Gates Fuel Fill Hose ($25, OEHQ) Wasted. Wrong size. oops.
Gates 27336 3/8" Barricade Hose ($11, OEHQ)
2x Gates 27335 5/16" Barricade Hose ($20, OEHQ)
4x Sorenson Fuel Injectors ($114, Autozone)
Pushrod Tube Guard Tins ($10, Jason Creation)
All other conversion tin and heat valves ($80, Litchfield show)
New Durability upgraded AMC heads from Suburban Engine: $150
NOS Magnafluxed Crankshaft $100 (Clark, Thunder Bay)
NOS Connecting Rods $100 (Clark, Thunder Bay)
NOS Kolbenschmidt Main Bearings $50 (Clark, Thunder Bay)
Factory VWoC GE Type4 crankcase $285 (John Connolly, aircooled.net)

Components, Supplies and Services Planned but not yet purchased: $1007

Webcam 142 Camshaft, Lifters, Cam gear $332 (Alamo Motorsports)
029-198-009 Reinz Gasket Set $70 (Aircooled.Net)
AA 94mm Pistons & Cylinders $220 (Aircooled.Net)
022-109-451 Valve Adjusters $52 (European Motorworks)
029-105-245B Flywheel crank seal $11 (Bus Depot)
021-105-247A Rear crank seal $6 (Bus Depot)
039-105-701 Rod Bearings $40 (Wolfgang International)
021-198-541 Cam Bearings $26 (Wolfgang International)
071-251-053EK Ernst Right Exit Muffler and Kit $250 (Bus Depot)

Window Seals LR,RR,LM,RM: $130 (Bus Depot PN: 221845321A & 211845341)

M8x1.25x12mm Qty 25 (Bolt Depot)
M6x1.00x12mm Qty 12 (Bolt Depot)
M6x1.00x16mm Qty 12 (Bolt Depot)

For the sake of argument, I'm also including the anticipated costs around a Subaru engine conversion, just to see how we make out.

Components, Supplies and Services Budgeted: $3255

Donor Vehicle: 1996 Subaru with SOHC N/A EJ22 Engine, with harness: $1500

Radiator: $400

Custom Wiring Harness: $400

Reverse Manifold Adapter: $150

Thermostat Adapter: $80 (Tom Shiels)

Cooling Ancillaries (Expansion, Overflow, Fittings) $300

Cooling Pipe & Hose: $350

OBD Interface Board: $75 (Smallcar.com)

Bathing the Ugly Bits

The appearance of Ferd' is deceiving. Don't look too closely and he's a handsome chap. But more than a dozen years sitting on dirt have really taken their toll, and the four years being driven by a punk kid from 1995-1998 didn't help either. So when I jacked Ferd' up to pull the fuel pump and FPR, I was grossed out enough that I didn't want to be working under there without giving the keel a bath. The engine looked like a corndog with dirt caked on oil, and the transmission had enough road tar, goop and God-knows-what on it (which had set up to a rigid, tar-like consistency) that I decided that it was time to pull out the best weapons I know for fighting this kind of neglect: Solvent, and a 2000 psi pressure washer driving 130*F water.

You would amazed at how well this combo works. When I pulled the Left Rear Wheel, what I found was crazy with surface rust, but no penetrating rust. Even the rear drums, which were new when the vehicle was parked in 1998 looked awful. Shocks? Rusted. Swing arm? Rusted. Everything: Rusted.

But just the surface. I spend a good hour whanging a small hammer around underneath...listening. Never once did it go 'crunch!' when I tapped metal. Much of the factory undercoating is still in place, which is a blessing. So I have good reason to have high confidence in the structural soundness of the frame.

That doesn't mean that I'm going to drive it in this condition; since the whole brake system has to be checked out, most likely all of these parts are either going to be replaced or are going to get a coating of Eastwood Rust Encapsulator (which is just the UK Corroless, rebranded.) But items like that rear wheel drum (knowing when the drum went on and how few miles were put on it) may be completely salvageable with light machining on the inside.

But back to engine and transmission. Looking like they had been sprayed with tar and then feathered with powdered charcoal, they were in bad shape, and made it difficult to avoid coming out from under the car without looking like Al Jolsen in 'The Jazz Singer.'

After much cleaning, the individual fins on the bottom of the case
were visible again. The ribs on the transmission took more work
but eventually washed clean as well. (Reference photo)

I purchased a single can of engine degreaser, the evil stuff that they tell you will cause Cancer in California. (Apparently nowhere else.) I coated the bottom and rear of the engine, as well as the whole transmission. Then I strolled off for a bit to let it cook. I'm convinced that this is three-quarters of the secret of using any of these products: don't be in such a damn hurry to hose them off. Let'em cook, especially if they're a solvent.

I wandered back out and lit up the pressure washer with a long tap from our deep sink, which is, by way of copper pipe, only a meter from the hot water heater. I dialed the nozzle to zero interference, lay down on my creeper, and started blasting. This water was near 130*F and between the solvent, the heat and the pressure, the goop on the engine and transmission came off, though the transmission required a recoating of solvent.

After that, I switched over to an industrial cleaner that fed into the pressure washer stream by venturi and cleaned sections of the body, especially those behind the rear wheels. I think old Ferd' is going to be 5 pounds lighter in the rear end, now that all of that dirt is out. And another surprise was waiting for me: what I had assumed was rust in the rear wheel wells was really orange dirt! Under it, I found that the original undercoating was mostly intact, with just a spritz of red from the slovenly job that MAACO had done when they had pimped up Ferd' with his coat of red paint over the CE1 Agate Brown / Atlas White factory combination.

This cleaning job is more than just fastidiousness on my part. It is an essential part of inspection, and knowing the condition of the vehicle. While it would be lovely to be able to do this kind of deep inspection prior to purchase, unless you're buying from a close friend, it is unlikely that a buyer is going to let you work over a vehicle in this much detail.

A Hot Toddy for the Tank

Despite their reputation for durability, old VWs were only ever a 'cheap car.' That means that while the design was excellent (and has been proved itself world wide) there are material science items where corners were cut. Like the fuel tank.

American Manufacturer fuel tanks (the big three) were terne plated, which made them much less prone to rust out. VW skipped this step. In a Beetle, this is an annoyance, not a crisis. Open the bonnet, clamp off a few connections, four bolts removed and the tank is out. New tank goes in the same way, and the whole affair will take an hour if you drag your feet and stop for beer frequently.

Engine & Transmission out, firewall off, fuel tank
drained (GHACK!) unbolted and removed.

But the bus stuffs the fuel tank over the transmission, and requires the engine to be removed to get to it. (Though there are some circus acrobats who have found ways to avoid taking the engine out to get the tank out, the efforts to avoid an engine drop are almost worse than the drop itself.) There is also the matter of the fuel tank itself not being reproduced where the world market can get to them. So all of the tanks out there...that's all there are.

I decided to squander a fortune ($25) and buy a fuel tank at a VW show that was dry and in decent condition on the assumption that I'd rather start with a slightly scaly dry tank than the gag inducing tank that is currently in there. My plans for the current tank are simple: drain and dispose. My plans for the new tank are more complex: refurbish and install.

The refurbish part is the tough one. Yes, you can take your fuel tank to a radiator shop and have it 'hot tanked' or 'boiled out' or other euphemisms. Essentially, they're giving it a full immersion baptism in hot acid. Then hauling it out, hosing it off, and handing it back to you, not quite dripping wet with flash rust starting to appear, but almost. This will not stop rust, (no terne plating, remember?) but it will give you a place to start from to chemically coat the tank so that you won't be doing the same operation again in a year.

Some how, I think this fuel sender has had it.
13 years suspended over a noxious soup in that tank.

You will pay a shop about $200 for the privilege if you can find a shop even willing to do the work. The replacement culture reaches even to independent shops who would rather sell you a Chinese product made to minimum specifications than do the labor intensive work involved in refurbishing your tank. This is simple business logic: labor costs more.

But my labor is a double win for me: My labor costs heartbeats (which I may have more of than dollars) and when I'm finished I am richer...in knowledge and self-reliance. And can perform the same feat again, faster, probably better, and if working for someone else....for cash or chattles. Or barter for something they're good at. And there are no 'aftermarket' or 'reproduction' fuel tanks for the Bus. (UPDATE! Bus Depot is now carrying a replacement fuel tank; fit, finish, and source is unknown.)

The state of my DRY replacement tank after water & roofing nails spent some time sloshing around in there, before the acid cleaning. This is pretty good. The tank I took out was a retch inducing corn-dog inside by comparison.

So a fuel tank refurb is a cheap exercise for me, having done it once before on my VW Super Beetle (1302). I learned from that one and I have better methods now. Here's how the cost breaks down:

• 1 gallon Muriatic Acid:  $7.50
• 1 aerosol can Rustoleum Painter's Touch: $7.50
• Quart of US Standard Fuel Tank Sealer & POR15 Prep&Ready (Phosphoric acid): $50
• 10 boxes of Baking Soda: $10

$75 for materials (and I believe I still have some of the paint from restoring the Super Beetle) and a cautious set of practices gets me a 70% discount. Here's how its done....

After the dry, slightly corroded replacement tank had all of the rust scale
scraped off of the interior and Metal Ready (aka Prep-n-Ready), I needed to get the
inside dry again...fast! so the Metal Ready can work best.
One kerosene heater to the rescue. The tank was dry within an hour.

But first a word from our sponsor: Acid is dangerous, can kill you in subtle and quick ways, and should be treated like handling a live rattlesnake. The rattler can be useful to you if you know how to use it, but has no tolerance for clumsy handling and will kill you to show its disapproval. Acid is the same way. I'm describing what I'll be doing, I'm not giving you instructions: go look them up somewhere else, say OSHA or some-such. But don't follow my example.

With that out of the way, here's my procedure:

Day 1:

1. I'm outside, but won't be disturbed by pets, kids, or other ungovernable persons. Lots of fresh air.
2. I have set up a pair of saw horses and will later make a table of some material that I don't care about that will support the fuel tank.
3. My tank has a little scale in the bottom, so a gallon of boiling water, a cup of detergent (Tide), and seven pounds of unused and unwanted nails go in.
4. Now I rock the baby back and forth for an hour. (Since I haven't let the acid out yet, others can spell me on this part. Just make sure no one drops that tank on their foot, or this party will move to the Emergency Room before it really gets started.)
5. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until the arms ache and the grinding sound of those nails across rust makes you wince. The hot water will turn ochre colored as the rust comes off.
6. Dump. Flush with clean watch. Inspect rust scale. Repeat until all of the scale is OUT.
7. When this part is done, I'm done for the day, too. Playing tag with the Acid is not something to be attempted when tired. As a last matter, so I don't have to remember tomorrow, plug all but the fuel level sensor outlet for the tank (inlet, outlet, two vents on top, fuel fill neck.)

Day 2:

1. I fill a pail with 2 gallons of cold water mixing three of my baking soda boxes into it. This is for emergency chemical quench, and might let me off with a burn, rather than sending me to the hospital. When you feel it start to burn, its already too late to mix a batch of antitoxin, just like that rattle snake bite.
2. Set aside a second pail, empty.
3. I run a water hose to my working location, with a trigger nozzle on the end. Crack the water valve just enough to provide perhaps 2 gallons per minute, and if the nozzle has spray styles, set it to the least restrictive one so that water come gently burbling out, never a spray that might cause a splash.
4. I don a full body outfit covering every scrap of skin I would like to keep attached to my corpus. (That includes safety glasses, so my eyeballs will come home still working.) If it isn't covered, its fair game. Rubber gloves, the industrial kind, not exam gloves.
5. Fill the tank half way with water. Water first. Water First! WATER FIRST!
6. Pour in 1/4 of the gallon of Acid, while reciting Novenas. Do not GLUG it in: a nice, happy, laminar flow.
7. Recap all acid containers. Set them out of the way.
8. I S-L-O-W-L-Y rock the tank to let the acid mix with the water. If the water and acid don't mix, the reaction of the acid can cause it to boil, spattering my tender hide. So pay attention!
9. When there is a nice mix of water and acid cooking, fill the second bucket with water from the hose, and slow add it to the tank. Repeat until the tank is topped up. Cover but do not seal the tank so the O2 being produced can escape.
10. Get out of the clown suit carefully, assuming that there are errant drips of acid on it. Straight into the washer, and while it gets washed, into the shower to rinse your own hide. This is taking an extra 15 minutes both to soothe the nerves, and to rinse the hide.

Great. Now I have 14 gallons of acid in my back yard that I have to get rid of.


Day 3:

1. Having left the brew to simmer overnight, it now has to be disposed of. Reminder: it will look and smell awful. Back into the clown suit. 
2. Using a disposable transfer pump (don't even think about suck-siphoning!), start draining the tank. 
3. Don't even think of trying to move it manually, full of water, the beast weights at least 130 lbs. 
4. Drain the tank to the rear fence were it isn't going to be disturbed by children. 
5. When empty, rinse the tank with clean water
6. Dump in Prep-n-Ready (Metal Ready).
7. Rock heavily on the sawhorse to splash PnR against all surfaces inside.
8. Dump the (hopefully) unused bucket of premixed bicarb on the place where you dumped the dilution, and follow it up with powdered bicarb.
9. Now we're done with the acid, so the clown suit can come off.
10. Perform several 'splash and rock' events with the PnR over the course of the next hour.
11. Drain PnR back to its original container
12. Remove all plugs
13. Fire up the kerosene space heater. Place the tank on top it, insert a hair dryer on air dry into the fuel neck and give the tank two hours to quickly evaporate off any liquid in the tank. The steel tank will be scalding hot by the time its done evaporating out, but there can be NO water in the tank. I'm cooking it over the space heater to hurry the process along and complete the sealing bits in one day.
14. Put on gloves that will let you move the hot tank back to your outside workstation without frying yourself. Set it up on a tabletop between two sawhorses.
15. Re-insert the plugs in all orifices but the sender. Sealed up tight.
16. Dump in 1 quart of tank sealer and seal up the sender hole.
17. Rolling the tank around its long axis, wrap it in a long strip of carpet as long as the tabletop. Bungee the wrap around the roll. Now the tank will be easier to roll and handle.
18. Roll the tank around so that all orientations are passed through, and the whole tank interior will have been coated. 10 minutes.
19. Remove the carpet roll, and dump the remaining sealer, leaving it to drain for 30 minutes in an orientation that will leave no puddles in the tank.
20. Hang the tank from one tube and give it a coat of Rustoleum. Let dry for two hours.
21. Move the tank inside and put the hair dryer back on it. it will need to cure for three days.

Fin

Yes, there are a lot of steps here. But having followed them, I will KNOW that the tank is ready to go into service, no matter what engine it is servicing.

Finished tank, sealed inside and recoated outside. And ready for many more years of service.

Unexpected Blessings

Occasionally, the celestial practical jokes department fails to get the memo that I am working on a VW and I squeeze some successes out before they notice...and lower the boom on me. Yesterday, I took the day off and, among several things, spent some quality time with old Ferdinand.

Again, I was impressed at what complete condition the old buzzard is in, despite his wounds and neglect. That engine, while I doubt it has ever been cleaned, is certainly the most complete Type4 I've ever seen that hasn't been completely refurbed. My very limited goals for Ferdinand were simple: Test the Fuel Pressure Regulator, and put fresh gasoline through the fuel ring, hopefully cooking off much of the goop in the line.

To pull the regulator out, I clamped off the fuel return, got the hose off of the regulator and found that the regulator itself has a retaining nut that holds it in place against the engine tin, with the outlet on the forward facing side, pointing toward the fuel tank return. A 14mm open end wrench helped me take that off, and then I moved up top and discovered what a joy it was to work on that engine from the TOP, via the top engine hatch. I pulled the FPR off of the fuel ring, hooked it up with the fuel pump and hoses to recycle to the 1 gallon jerrycan and gave the pump some power.

Fuel came pouring out of the outlet just like it says in the workshop manual. Hooray. I rejoice because the FPR isn't gummed up, and when vacuum is applied (by me, and some clean hose) to the vacuum port, the diaphram in the FPR opens up and lets the fuel flow faster, just as designed.

Why would I be so surprised by these successes? Because I think the celestial practical jokes department is out to get me? No. Because the most common warning among all of the experts in aircooled engine-mongery  will offer is: expect the FPR to be a deader. From fuel gum, varnish, and failure to take the 5th.

Sidebar:

And this is when it hits me, that a barn find of this vintage might have been the easiest animal I could have purchased. This bus received its last fill up around February of 1998. At that time, it would have had MTBE in the fuel as the oxygenated ingredient to reduce knocking. Since then MTBE has been removed from USDM fuel in the mid-2000s and replaced with ethanol at percentages up to 10%. There has been a huge uptick in classic cars gagging on the new gas mix. The VW engine was never designed to run on the E10 goop, and the hotter mix makes the exhaust valves glow white-hot. But worst of all, the dang gas stratifies in the tank. You'd think for all of the extra alcohol in the fuel, that the contents wouldn't stratify, but it does.

So the water goes to the bottom and rusts out your fuel tank, the alcohol floats on top of that, and the gasoline (which is the least dense) floats on the top. And when this unholy brew is pumped into the fuel ring, the alcohol gets left behind forming into a gummy mess, because one of the things that is happened is that the ethanol is eating away at the insides of the fuel hoses which were not chemically engineered to take alcohol.

Result: clogged injectors, varnish galore, ruined FPR, and seven years bad karma. Or something. But bad juju for your fuel system. And there has been a lot of noise online about dealing with engines that burn the Bus to the ground because the fuel is literally eating the hose away under 28psi of pressure in the fuel ring. When you blow a hose, you spray gas all over a hot engine with a sparkler on top of it (the distributor) going ZAP! 8000x per minute at freeway speed. FWOOSH! Cooked Bus.

But the load of fuel in old Ferd' is 1998 vintage. It may smell like a petroleum cat-house at low tide, but it doesn't have any ethanol in it for which I need to light a candle (but not near the gas tank!) and say thanks. I only have to deal with the run of the mill-vintage varnish, which is pretty easily put back into solution with a liberal helping of carb cleaner, gum out, or other patent nostrums. And once it is off moving parts, we're in a lot better shape for keeping it that way, not by avoiding E10 gas (impossible) but by keeping fuel stabilizer in the tank regularly, and don't let the old boy sit.

But there is still that unholy brew in the tank to be drained. And a replacement tank that needs to be prepared to take its place. More on the procedure for that hamster dance next time.

Fuel Pump Zombie

I never wanted to have to ditch the 2.0L Type4 engine in the bus. But the scarcity situation for the Type4 engine does not make it easy to keep it: buckets of NLA parts, astronomical prices for those that remain, and a wide market of grifters who will pass a piece of junk off on the unsuspecting.

So the first order of business, with the Bus safely stored under a weather-proof cover, is to discover whether I actually have an engine...or a boat anchor. If I have a running engine, then I can at least shove the body around under its own power while I get other portions of its refurbishment dealt with, and at some point, sell the engine and Engine Management System complete, 'as running' to offset the cost of conversion. Does it run, is question #1.

But first, there are protocols for restarting an engine which has sat, unmoved, for over a decade. In this case, the whole vehicle has sat since Clinton was in office.

Here's the planned procedure for just such a circumstance:

1. Disconnect the Fuel pump from primary harness, drain-o the insides with Carb Cleaner, then give it a drink from a jerry can, and finally give it power to see if it will even turn.
2. If the fuel pump will run, connect a battery and pull the spark plugs.
3. Replace the oil in the case, and put in a new filter.
4. Use the starter to turn the engine while performing compression and leakdown tests. (If the valves or the rings are junk, it will show here.)
5. If I don't completely fail the compression and leakdown tests, disconnect the Fuel Pressure Regulator, and purge the fuel ring, possibly leaving it full of solvent for a while to loosen the fuel varnish.
6. Reconnect the FPR and the fuel pump, rig the pump to drink from the jerry can of clean gas rather than the goopy horror in the fuel tank.
7. Set the fire extinguisher within reach of my assistant.
8. Say my "Hail Marys" reconnect the coil, and turn the key.
9. Rejoice or diagnose, as required.

So, Procedure #1: I jacked up the left rear, pulled the LRr wheel, clamped off the outlet from the fuel tank and got the fuel pump out. A lot of standing on my head and finding sockets I haven't used since my Beetle left town 18 months ago.

Considering how long Old Ferd' has been sitting and growing varnish in the tank, I expected the fuel pump to be a gummed up total loss. Depending on who's selling and whether it is genuine Bosch, this pump style can run from $100-$250 for a replacement. So I darn well went through the exercise of testing and cleaning the pump.

I was given an AGM 12v battery for a wheelchair from my father (who uses one) and it is only 20 months old. Just right for kicking around while bench testing components. And it sure beats dropping $100 on an SLI battery !

A little bit of horrible smelling gas came out of the pump, and I've been reeking of it all day. I set it up with the outlet down and the inlet up, filled the body with carb cleaner, and left it to cook for about 90 minutes. I came back out and applied power to it...nothing.

Well, nuts. ~$150 for a fuel pump? I started to monkey with it, assuming I couldn't do any damage to what was already 'broke.' I swapped the polarity and got...nothing. And again,and again.

Then I saw a lazy .burp. at the inlet. (the outlet was pointing down into a funnel to a catch can.) Either there was movement in there or some spaces were just now getting the solvent. I dumped it out. And got chunks of varnish. Refilled, I did the polarity swap back and forth again, same thing, occasional burps at the top inlet. Body of the pump was quite hot now. I tickled the outlet with the end of a nail and got a dribble with no power.

The Bosch 'roller cell' pump, used by Volkswagen from 1975 through the late 1980s.

I kept changing solvent and polarities for about 20 minutes. Sudden the pump gave a gurgle and spat out the outlet all of the solvent in the body. Up until then, there had been nothing come from the outlet with power applied. I loaded it up with solvent again, reapplied power, FOOSH! empty again! Success!

I set it up with inlet and outlet hoses to 1 gallon of clean gas, and ran that in a loop for about 90 minutes. I think the patient is going to pull through!

So just in diagnostic costs, I've already dodged $250 worth of expense, only going in so far for $25 in 2 meters of ethanol resistant SAE J30r9 fuel injection hose and $4 of Carb Cleaner.

My problem, not your problem

I have the most ridiculous garage in the world.

Built around 1960, it is neither large enough for the road yachts of the time, nor is it the 1920 style 'shack' garage that might have enclosed a Ford Model T and still require you to climb out the trunk, it is so narrow.

Instead it is a decently sized structure about 1-1/2 car widths, but with a Model T sized rollup door. My VW Beetle fit fine; in fact it slumbered there with spurts of work on it for almost six years. But this garage is ill suited to being storage, shop space, and parking space. It could be any of them, but not all three. There is space above the rafters used for storage, and the size inside is decently large, owing the ceiling joists that leave open space up to 96", the standard interior dimension. Enough space to work on a bus.

Except for that dang door. Its wide enough for anything but a 66 T-bird, but the frame around the door is only 73" high, and of course, the roll up door sags down slightly below that, which means it is at the perfect height to clock me right in the brain box if I neglect to duck. (Ask me how I know.)

General Dimensions of the Type2.

Well, the T2b, Ferdinand the Bulli stands a tip-toe at 77 inches, which would not only prevent entry, it would  simply gouge up the top if I tried. If I loaded it with rocks and every neighborhood kid I could find, I might get the suspension to squat down, but I doubt I'd get it low enough.

So I'm going to take off the wheels. Either have the treads unmounted from the rims and ROLL it in, hoping I don't wreck the rims in the process, or pull the wheels off, put 'skates' on the brake discs and drums and roll it in that way, much lower to the ground. Once inside, it will be up on lifts, hopefully right up to the 96" limit so that I have plenty of elbow room to work underneath. With a stock ride height of 11" of the body above the ground, I need to think in terms of how I'm going to raise it by 19" for a grande total of 30" of clearance underneath, enough for a talented luau chick to limbo under. But when was the last time that you met a jack stand that could handle a 30 inch rise?

So we're back to buy, borrow, fab, or custom. Let's see what's on the market. because it would make life much easier on this project to have 30" working space underneath.

That's Coolant, not Mountain Dew!

So after standing on my head thinking my way though coolant routing, I've decided that, again, the bright beans at Fellows Speed Shop have already done the brain work, and I'm simply going to sponge off of them.

Here's their setup stripped out for its first public appearance at DubFreeze in England last year. They set up the rear of a split-window Bus frame and bolted their gear onto it so that you can see how it works (though I note that they've left the scoop off.) I've taken a picture from the event and overlaid it to show the coolant loop. The area at the bottom left shows the coolant pipe hidden by the muffler assembly. The coolant enters the engine at the bottom right corner of the case, and exits at the top left (not visible in the picture.)

BLUE is return from radiator. Note the cold return goes through the frame, and rides the

outside of the frame before ducking under the torsion tube, and then back

to the engine. 

RED is the coolant output of the engine toward the radiator which passes 

through the rear cross beam. 

The ORANGE is the tap for the expansion tank.

To me the most striking thing about the coolant connections is that, with the exception of the 90* turns, everything is stainless steel, even components that would have been faster and easier to do with silicone. I think there's a lesson here: this setup is built to take the maximum amount of punishment, both from the elements and corrosion, but also from 'tough knocks' that any vehicle accumulates underneath. Sure, you could do all of this in silicone or even high temp multi-ply rubber, but there would be more joints to deal with, and a glancing blow from just one thrown tread on the interstate could slash up your soft coolant hoses that are exposed under the vehicle. Yes, a belly mounted radiator isn't an ideal for protection, but they've made the design as otherwise durable as possible.

Now the real question is, how am I going to do it. The cost of straight T304 or even better, marine grade T316 Stainless Steel isn't cheap, even in unbent sections. Cost of the pipe would be about $300 (two lengths of 7 ft) for T304SS. I'll need to check with my local metalworks (Fazzios) to see what their prices are like. Since the engine case and heads are aluminum, there's nothing that keeps me from using aluminum piping either, as long as I can get the bends in them without squashing the pipe. If I pay a custom shop to do it, they'll know how. If I DIY, I'll have to buy the equipment and wreck a few pieces of pipe learning how. The cost would probably come out even, especially once I add in the cost of the bender (about $70 from Harbor Freight for a 12 ton unit with mandrels.)

The dilemma is that I don't know exactly what dimensions I need to have all of this pipe bent to, I don't KNOW that all of the bends are in 2 dimensions, and how would I have the hose bent at a shop without having the vehicle their to fit it to. Sure, I could measure out (with thumb-fingered accuracy) the correct bends for the pipe and have that drafted accurately (I know someone) but if you've made a mistake, you're stuck with the an expensive pipe that doesn't fit.

Almost better to DIY for the same price and have the luxury to screw it up as many times as needed while in your own shop and at the end you have a new tool, new skills, and you didn't have to tow your vehicle off to someone else's shop.

Here are two alternatives:

1. Get corragated hose, the cheapest plastic stuff you can find that is about 2" outside diameter. Lay it out along the pathway that the production model will follow, zip tied in place so that it stays where it needs to. Once you are satisfied with the layout (remember, you've tacked it down along to way so that it won't move, you fill it....with curing drywall mud, aka '40 minute mud' which does not dry, but CURES. Fill it under pressure from the bottom, that way when it leaks out the top, you know it has pushed all of the air out. Seal the bottom. Take a break for a few days. Now come back and you have a rigid dummy of your final 'pipe' with all of the bends in the correct place. If you can get get it out in one piece, great. The finished product can go back in the same way. If you CANNOT, then you give it a registration mark where you're going to cut it, and then have the two sections fabbed separately and couple them with silicone hose at that joint.
2. Much of the hose is not hose, it is pipe, a critical difference in rigidity. For the straight shots, use the Stainless Steel pipe, and couple them together with Form-a-Flex (or newer flexible metal hoses by Spectre Performance.) This lets me avoid exposing the coolant pipes to damaging debris (like the type of thing that could slice a silicone fitting) and still keep most of the coolant pipe Stainless Steel.

So there are whole fist full of ideas for how to deal with the plumbing. This is made even funnier in that I've found a 'Custom Radiator kit' from Northern which comes in a standard size, but without the inlet or outlets welded on. Solid tanks, ready for cutting on and ready for YOU to put YOUR taps on where you need them. After quite a bit of tail chasing, I discovered that Northern wants $190 retail for this non-application specific radiator, but if they've done all of the work of fitting inlets and outlets to it for a specific application (like Ford or Chevy motorsports) the MSRP is....less. Wait....what?

I need a drink. Mountain Dew!

A Happy Conincidence

Having just survived Hurricane Sandy and having kept the water out of the inside of the bus, I've been busy with plumbing pondering. To wit, hose routing for coolant, as well as taps to route coolant to a heater matrix for warming and defrosting in the cab.

Many owners doing the water cooled conversion seem content with placing a Vanagon (T3) heater matrix under the rear seat, and call it good. I guess if your intent is to just get warm air into the cab, that will do. The T2b has such a wrenched reputation for heating that almost anything is an improvement. But I'd like to find a way to actually use the factory ducting which would provide cab heat, defrosting, etc, as well as being a convenient place to tap into for the inclusion of an air conditioning evaporator.

If this seems like bending over backwards to accommodate the existing facilities of the vehicle...you're right, it is. Part of it is that I'm lazy. The other part is that I actually care about being able to reverse the process if I choose to. More fundamentally, I loathe re-inventing the wheel. VW, for what ever deficiencies in their design, went to the trouble of including vastly improve ventilation in the T2b (relative to the split-screen bus, and certainly better than the Beetle. So I'm going to attempt to use those facilities to duct to the cab.

But wait, it gets better. As I've been reviewing the chassis I have to work with, I've come across some features that may actually make this conversion GOBS easier, at least for the primary plumbing.

The BA6 heating system, shown to the left of the control flaps colored in peach. The stock installation
just passes from the y-pipe (in the middle)of the diagram straight up to the front of the
vehicle via a long, and poorly insulated pipe.

The y-pipe shown in the center of the diagram is metal and allows the accordion tubes from the heat exchangers at the rear to combine together before being sent on forward, either to the BA6 heater in the few vehicles so equipped, or all the weary way up a poorly insulated pipe to emerge as a whisper of warmth at the dash.

I had thought that it might be possible that both inlet and outlet tubes might have been able to squeeze through this fitting. Obviously, I'm talking about silicone coolant hoses being able to squash and bend their way through a space that was only meant for air. Well, having finally found documentation of how squashed the Y-fitting really gets at the point of its greatest travel over the rear torsion bars, I'm forgetting this idea entirely. It is not possible.

However, I've also discovered that while there were special provisions made to the platform of the bus for BA6 air re-circulation purposes, there were no special provisions made between 1972-1979 for the holes in the rear cross frame: all of those holes are the same. So any solution I come up with should be applicable to any T2b bus. Which makes me smile.

What does not make me smile is that the y-pipe is going to have to come out so that I can make use of the fat hole in the rear cross member as exhaust for the radiator. This violates one of my focus points: No cutting on the body. Well, this isn't the body, and there is a fabricator in the UK that makes a fiberglas Y-pipe that goes together in two pieces and so can be fitted back into the vehicle if the old one is too far gone. This part is made available in this way because the y-pipe is common candidate for rusting out. So, lose the y-pipe.

The unfortunate y-pipe, which is put in place before the platform is
tack welded to the frame during assembly. Thus, the only way out
is with a sawz-all. at the top of the picture is the torsion bar for
the rear suspension, the bolts are to hold to nose of the
transmission in, and the tube running vertically is the clutch cable
tube. The pipe across the bottom is the exhaust for the BA6 heater.

Finally, I am gobsmacked to report that I have finally found a production vehicle that:

• Has a radiator that is installed flat in the vehicle and air is provided to it through a scoop.
• Has inlet / outlet connectors on the radiator tanks which are flat, inline with the body of the radiator.

You would think that I would be dancing in the aisles. Unfortunately, parts for the vehicle are not sold in the United States. (Starting to see a trend here?) The vehicles are the 2000+ Lotus Elise and Exige, built in the UK, and have a very very small but rabid following here in the States. These transwarp-drive rollerskates are essentially a seat belt bolted to an engine. 400HP in a car the size of a dufflebag.

Its radiator is, if possible, too perfect. And the only way to lay hands on one is to import it from china, import it from the UK, or have a fabricator build one. QED. That thumping sound is my head pounding the keyboard. Purchase price ranges from $416 USD to $600 USD. And that's without a scoop. Another less desirable candidate was the 66-72 Chevrolet Corvette Radiator, because it had a loop back in line with the output tank. Price: an eye watering $640 USD.

The $400 custom radiator is starting to look mighty good right now. I'm going to contact Daniel Record who had Wizard build him a custom radiator for his 1979 conversion.

Sucking Wind

With essential decision made concerning engine, adapter, and intake provisions, its time to tackle the super headache of the scoop for the radiator...not to mention the radiator itself.

The Fellows Speed Shop Radiator solution.
The entire radiator, including the scoop, is all custom
 fabricated, just for this application.

The creme de la creme unit is made for Fellows Speed Shop in Birmingham, England, UK. Its boxed in design and novel plumbing solves massive numbers of engineering challenges, and it is a wholly custom fabricated unit.The pictures of it in this post are all from the prototype, which was fitted to a 1961 VW Samba, owned by photographer David Hall. This means that, as a custom cooling solution, is covers the entire range of the Bus, from 1950, through the 2005 air-cooled Brazilian T2c, as well as the first four years of Vanagon production which were air-cooled, sufficient to push a heavy, non-aerodynamic Bus around with a Subaru boxer engine. This is remarkable, and justifies the price they're asking for it in British Pounds.

Radiator test fitted in place.
About a 100mm (4 inch) drop for the scoop
beneath the frame rails.

That doesn't fix the fact that I can't afford that! In the build / buy / outsource logic that I described at the beginning of this blog, this would be an 'outsource' as this is a custom, purpose built component made specifically for this application. I'd buy a generic product to scratch this itch, but there are none. (What fool converts an aircooled vehicle to liquid cooled? Apparently only the clever chaps in the UK and Australia. Not here.)

So my 'choices' are:

1. Spend 1/3 of the total cost of the project on one component.
2. Show the production photographs to custom fabricators here in the States and have it reproduced here (lowering the cost from about $1000 to possibly as low as $600.)
3. Examining the design carefully, source a COTS (Commercial-Off-The-Shelf) product designed for a specific vehicle and application and built in mass production quantities which will lower the price. Then adapt my own boxed in scoop based on the Fellows design.

The boxed in radiator solution from Fellows has the following attributes that I'm going to follow:

• The scoop has zero air leakage. All air drawn in to the scoop for cooling (either by convection, fans above the radiator pulling cool air up, or by air being forced into the scoop by forward travel of the vehicle) must go through the radiator.

• The Fellows scoop is a thick gauge of aluminum. (By eye, I'd estimate about 10 gauge.) The components are not bent, they are cut from individual pieces and then welded together. Welding aluminum is ticklish work, and mistakes are expensive. But based on the shape of the scoop, I see no reason not to fabricate it in steel and use a heavy gauge metal brake to bend it up. I don't presently have access to such a brake, but we're talking about a maximum of six cuts and four bends, so I suspect that, armed with a very very clear plan of what I want done, I should be able to get this through a fabricators shop for minimum money. 

Lots to look at here, though this install is on an old 61 Bus:
Note holes cut in the rear frame member as inlet to the radiator.
Note the outlet exits through a cut hole in the side member.
You can see the brackets that suspend the radiator at the rear,
as well as seeing the pins on the front of the radiator that
will support the front when those brackets are installed.
Behind the rear frame member, you can see the custom bent
coolant tubing running back to the engine, both the inlet
(on the right of the picture,) and the outlet at the bottom left.

The selection of radiators is going to be a completely different problem. Their radiator is custom built for the application. As you can see from the pictures, their mounting is all fabricated, and even the inlet/outlet for the radiator is a custom job. (Most radiators have tanks at either end, and the inlet/outlet is usually perpendicular to the bulk of the radiator. In a situation like this, where we want everything possible to lie flat, that considerably limits our options.) The pressure relief is not built into the radiator (as it is on most American radiators, so this limits our options still further. Finally, Fellows has gone to the trouble to take as many bends out of the return as possible, which is part of why they cut through one of the frame members for the return and then reinforce the hole with a welded on, wrap-around reinforcement plate. All of this makes for a truly beautiful, refined installation. If you're in the UK, don't bother following my lead: just go to Fellows Speed Shop and buy their products.

So we need to find a radiator that:

1. Sheds sufficient BTUs, even in the compromised location.
2. Will be easy to mount, and easy to remove for maintenance while being solidly affixed so that inadvertently catching air won't cause you to lose your entire radiator assembly when you land.
3. Will not be prone to getting air trapped in it, possibly causing issues with filling and flushing coolant.



The custom Fellows Radiator prototype initial test fit.

4. Has inlet and outlet in places where they can be routed back to the engine without performing extreme modifications to the body.

The more than this the observations about the project go along, the greater the likelihood that welding will be required, somewhere along the way, not necessarily on the body itself, but on a component to be added to the body.

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

So with all of this excellent engineering having been performed overseas, there doesn't seem much left to do but order parts and start bolting things together...right? Wrong. Way wrong.

Parts in the UK and Australia that are sold out of country are not subject to the 20% VAT, so you get to dodge that bullet. But you still must convert to US Dollars. For example, if you're buying a pair of £140 exhaust manifolds, convert GBP (£) to USD ($) which as of this writing is £1 to $1.62, then pay the currency conversion fee (about 3.9% of the total.) Then add $90 for shipping (and that's the slow boat) and you come to a grand total of: $310 USD for a pair of excellent exhaust manifolds.
Now imagine how much shipping a custom radiator, an intake manifold inverter, and an engine carrier bar would cost. Unless you are independently wealthy, you're either going to save for a long time to buy these limited run parts, or you're not going to do the conversion. At a shipping and exchange and tax rate that high, the cost to perform a conversion means that, rather than across the ocean, those parts may as well be on the moon.

If you weren't sure, this is what the rest of the world feels like trying to buy products from the USA.

So inevitably, there are compromises that have to be made. The finest conversion available would be using the RJES Bellhousing adapter, the Fellows Speed Shop Radiator assembly, and the Turbo Thomas exhaust. But even ignoring all of the other ancillary items like coolant hosts, cab heater matrix, surge tanks, and the expense of having someone else perform the wiring harness conversion for the engine management system, the cost of parts, with myself turning the all of the wrenches, would come in somewhere north of $8000-10000.

There must be a better way, and it doesn't have anything to do with smuggling. It is called 'The Sincerest Form of Flattery.' Be a bald-faced plagiarizer. Seeing how there are no copyrights on physics, I'll take pictures of worked examples around to local vendors, and we'll get to watch the price fall.

For starters, the RJES bellhousing adapter is the cats meow because it allows you to use the less expensive, and much more common Subaru clutch parts. It allows for smoother performance at low RPMs. It uses a Subaru starter, which mates perfectly with the Subaru 9 inch flywheel and is better built to turn a high compression engine like the Subaru.

The machined adapter plate design popularized by Kennedy Engineering Products (KEP) has none of these benefits. In addition, it moves the whole engine 22mm to the rear in the engine bay, as it is sandwiched between the engine and the original bellhousing. This causes other clearance problems depending on your particular application. In my case with a VW Bus, there is a non-trivial problem of the intake manifold crowding the firewall, getting so close that you can't fit an intake pipe and filter upstream of the throttle valve. You can flip the whole intake manifold around (so that the intake points to the rear, where there is plenty of space) but then you occlude the alternator and need a special adapter to move that. And now you have nowhere to put your A/C compressor (should your aspirations climb so high.)

Throttle valve reverser
with engine in place,
firewall shown to the right.
It is a very tight fit.

So every move has consequences. Fall off the ideal for one component (the transmission to engine adapter) and there are lots of consequences down the line.

Thankfully, this problem has already been licked, and simply, without any moving parts at all. An adapter that rotates the throttle valve 180* so that it is pointing to the rear, it also rotates the throttle valve so that the  mechanisms are on the correct side to easily receive a stock VW throttle cable from the stock cable location in the engine compartment. Cost? $$150 from Rocky Mountain Westy. No more occlusion penalties for any of the engine components, and easy to fit off-the-shelf intake hoses and filters (like K& N ) too.

So lets do a quick budget check:

1996 Subaru US market Legacy, Outback, or Impreza with a Normally Aspirated (non-turbo) EJ22 SOHC engine and preferably low miles on the odometer. (Low for an EJ22. These things are almost indestructible.) Preferred: A vehicle that will pass emissions but would otherwise fail inspection. Accident damage, etc. But runs, and I get the WHOLE vehicle. High end of cost range: $1500
KEP style engine adapter, $556 shipped from Rocky Mountain Westy in Colorado. No one has it cheaper as of this writing, not even KEP, who tend to clip you on the shipping and will not assure a delivery date.
Throttle valve reverser, ~$150, from Rocky Mountain Westy in Colorado.

So far, we're up to $2156, and we can't yet cool (radiator, plumbing) or deal with exhaust gasses yet.