Fordite my ’66 F-250

I bought this heap in November of 2018. It was about two months before my second boy was born, and I was about hip-deep in one of the largest construction projects in themed entertainment history.

Perfect time for another project, no?

(You can read that project here and here, and about me here. )

Originally the idea was to buy a beat-up truck to use for house projects. I saw a lot of mid-90’s F-150s and other decent candidates around. But I kept getting drawn off like a moth to flame with the older trucks.
I began searching for a clean long bed F100, preferably a ’65.

What I ended up with was exactly NOT that.

Let’s back up a bit.

I like the idea of owning a vehicle that is only slightly smarter than my lawnmower. A ‘zombie apocalypse’ car, if you will. Presently all my other vehicles are super-smart ‘think-for-you’ Germanobiles. These ultimate driving machines effectually pamper away your awareness of the asphalt with their features and conveniences. Don’t get me wrong. They’re pleasant to drive and brilliantly engineered, and some of that tech is super convenient. Still, somewhere along the line, it feels like they traded in their identity as automobiles and became what are now essentially rolling cubicles. Trust me – I know! I spent a LOT of time in my office-on-wheels over the past four years, commuting daily from Burbank to Anaheim (an hour-plus drive of roughly 40 miles). Our modern vehicle comforts tend to divorce us from how the sausage is made under our hoods 1, separating us from the grease and the metal, and taking away our connection to the road.

“I like the idea of owning a vehicle that is only slightly smarter than my lawnmower.”

famous last words, -Abraham Lincoln

Initially, I thought it would be cool to have a truck from the year I was born. That brought me to the bump side ford trucks – and I kinda liked the look and the aggressive stance. I even checked out a few. Unfortunately, most that I could find would have required WAY more work than I was comfortable with at the time. (Note here: foreshadowing)

But I am a sucker for the arcane.

The ‘4th generation’ F Series (’61-66′) saw a major revamp mid-cycle, which produced a largely redesigned vehicle for the ’65 model year. Some would even argue the changes should have justified a unique model ‘generation.’ In 1965 Ford introduced the ‘Twin I-Beam’ suspension, which a) was totally unique, and b) drastically changed the ride of the vehicle. The redesign also saw some subtle body changes, which (in my opinion) significantly improved the look of the 1961-64 body style.

Then – and this is what hooked me – everything changed again in 1967. That meant that the ’65-66 years were a total anomaly. For that short two-year period, the F series’ design was on par with the time’s muscle cars. Their styling was unique, perfect for the time – the years that are widely regarded as American car design’s apogee. (Some claim that design absolutely peaked in the 60’s.) The Twin I-Beam trucks also represented a sea-change in how trucks drove and felt. For the first time, the platform was designed to feel like the ride of a car. My mind was made up. I decided that I wanted to own one of these unicorns.

As I continued to read, I learned more about FE engine and its ubiquity. One of my “someday” goal projects is to build a Shelby Cobra, so keeping with familiar parts seemed to make sense. And also, at the time, it was easy to find decent specimens of ’65-66 trucks at a reasonable cost.

Back to reality

Fast-forward, I took delivery of the truck and made my first venture out to a trusted mechanic friend who has a lot of experience with Cruise-o-Matic transmissions, just to give it the once-over. My wife and sons tailed. All the way home my boy, five at the time, made fun of me for how the truck repeatedly stalled on the way to the mechanic.

Please enjoy this nice picture of my son laughing at me:

A few things I’ve learned so far:

1. In retrospect, I should have held out for an F-100. Parts for F-250s of this age are less easy to come by. Literally no one has invested in engineering to build aftermarket brake and height kits. And wheel/tire selections are fewer due to the load rating.
2. I should have done better homework about the typical rust areas on this body style. There remain a few stubborn spots, probably cancerous, that I will have to deal with at some point.
3. Having a newborn and a truck project is not at all compatible.
4. My wife is a saint.
5. A silver lining of a global pandemic and furlough is increased truck time.

Going forward

Let’s set some expectations from the beginning, here:

First, this is not a restoration project. That said, this old relic does deserve my respect. Where possible, I intend to return things to the way they looked while simultaneously making upgrades. I like the idea of there being an illusion that things are stock, even if some features have been added. Apologies to the concours purists out there; I’m sure this is blasphemy in somebody’s opinion.

Second, I fully intend to make a few “special modifications” along the way. This is a platform to be hacked. I’m sure this will lead to some unorthodox approaches to things.

Third, from the outset, my goal is to have a truck ‘s TRUCK. My goal is not to pretty it up, stick it in a garage, and occasionally rub it with a diaper. No, to me, this is a tool.

Fourth, I’m quite sure I’m going about this all wrong. Or at least I’m sure someone will think so – and that someone will be right! I don’t have a lot of experience repairing/rebuilding cars. However, I do have a lot of experience building other things. Usage goals are directing my approach, not the ‘right’ way to go about a project like this. Those with more experience may find this all cringe-worthy. But bear with me. I might come up with some things that will surprise you. Or at least some things that will embarrass me.