1932 Ford Roadster Part IV: Off to the Paint Shop

Most hot rod guys have the “vision thing.” Before ever picking up a wrench they’ve built their car in their heads. Proportion, stance, wheels and tires, engine and trans, suspension, brakes, color; it’s all been sorted out, over and over, in their daydreams.

For some, there’s an additional component to these fantasies: windshield time. We imagine being in the pilot’s seat, blasting down the road. We imagine how the car will handle, how it will sound, how we’ll feel peering out that chopped windshield.

For me, this woolgathering always seems to take place on Highway 101 through the southern end of the Salinas Valley. The wind is at my back, the road is free of traffic, the vistas are big, the sky is bigger. Our customer Todd Anderson has the same dream, but his takes place on the road to Bonneville. He’s mentioned it several times. We now have him well on his way.

Todd’s roadster went onto a trailer and off to paint a few days ago, but not before a number of details were wrapped up. We thought you might like to see photos.

In our last post, we showed you Todd’s oil filter canister. Here’s a better shot of the vintage-look firewall bracket Gary fabbed to mount the heavy assembly.

Temporary hood hold-downs had been tacked on the frame rails before the roadster arrived at our shop. Gary whittled up some new OEM-look versions.

You’ve seen the headlight bar in previous posts, here’s a detail shot. We also completed the plumbing, built a mount for the parking brake lever, and started the wiring. Todd’s roadster will get original-look fabric-covered wire throughout.

When the car came to us, there was an issue with the fit of the floorboard and firewall. There was a good half inch gap between the two, and the whole assembly was stitched together with sheet metal screws. With some slicing, patching and dolly work — and a healthy load of verbal abuse — Gary had the two fitting like spoons.

The threaded block on the transmission tunnel is for the throttle footrest – a depression-era equivalent of cruise control – that Todd will appreciate on his long run out Highway 50.

We then bagged and tagged his parts for delivery — to the painter, polisher, plater and storage — so it can be reassembled with some degree of organization when it all comes back to the shop. Stay tuned, the next post will be in living color.