1963 ford thunderbird windshield wiper conversion kit

1963 ford thunderbird windshield wiper conversion kit professional#

A past mechanic rigged up a system of brackets that not only held the alternator at a strange angle, but would also not allow the belts to be tightened, leading to an odd honking as if a goose were trapped under the hood.

The engine in my ’63 is from a ’61 Ford, a Ford that came standard with a generator, thereby having no provision to attach an alternator to the cylinder head. The next problem is not Ford’s fault at all, but it was frustrating all the same. Or better yet, I’ll find the car parked later on, the wipers having mysteriously risen without my having touched them. Occasionally, I’ve found that turning off the wiper switch just doesn’t take, allowing the blades to tentatively climb the windshield in a most unsettling fashion. Yes, the wipers run on transmission fluid rather than fast moving electrons or engine vacuum. Unfortunately, prior mechanics had not taken the time to use the access door for its intended purpose, as the fuel hose at the tank was also (almost certainly) original to the car.Īnother curiosity on the ’63 model is the motive power behind the operation of the windshield wipers–the power steering pump. The trunk floor has a built-in access door for servicing the fuel sender so one does not have to drop the fuel tank. My experience tells me, however, that when the good Ford taketh away, the good Ford also giveth. Additionally, noxious gas fumes emanating from hidden 50-year-old fuel hoses with rusted twist clamps can be hard to find when many mechanics, both amateur and professional, would never expect them to be hidden in such a manner. The cavity behind the aforementioned splash shield is a nice home for 50-odd years of detritus, the kind of detritus that will rust fenders, causing previous owners to bondo over said rust and not look any further into its root cause. This fuel hose, one of three, is completely hidden from sight behind a splash shield. And while “intense” may be a strong adjective to describe a nice year in the garage (a bad day in the garage, and so on and so forth…), I have found some of Ford’s engineering choices “very distressing.” My experiences with the Thunderbird, however, have been a little more frustrating, maybe a 5 or a 6. For example, my experience so far with General Motors products of the 1960s and ’70s that aren’t Corvairs has been on the green side of the scale, maybe a 2 or a 3. If we instead modify the pain scale to relate to antique car ownership, I can simply and directly relate my thoughts and emotions regarding the “ownability” of my fleet. If you’ve ever been to a doctor’s office, the pain scale will be familiar, although I’ll never understand how someone suffering from “discomforting pain” could be smiling.

Therefore, I’ve certainly had a few late to the game questions for Ford’s engineers since I bought my ’63 T-Bird last year, questions that mostly start with “Why?”. Having maintained a growing fleet of mid-century Americana from Detroit’s Big Three longer than I’ve been driving, however, I am in a unique position to judge such sundry criteria as the ease of maintenance, parts availability, and general functionality of the cars that collectively form our automotive heritage and landscape.

1963 ford thunderbird windshield wiper conversion kit professional#

I am not a mechanical engineer, nor a professional mechanic.