On to the axles and transmission, and changing their fluids. During this period of my life, I would draw curious glances at the bars while people would try to guess the edgy new cologne that I was pioneering. I even managed to convince some that "Ninety Weight" was an exotic scent I picked up in Paris. This alibi was necessary because I managed to get that crap all over me, in my ears, down my back, you name it.

The worst part was refilling the transfer case, largely due to my inexperience. I did not know how easy it was to remove the seat boxes and tunnel to access it, so I devised a strange 90W "IV drip," for lack of a better term. It was a small poly tube that I snaked past the gear lever, and into the filler hole. I sat there for hours, slowly easing the gear oil down and into the tranny. I even convinced my girlfriend to sit in the garage with me and chat...incidentally, I ended up marrying her.

Once the fluids were done, I enjoyed some trouble-free driving...until she started performing erratically. I decided that the carburetor was to blame, so I took it off and looked at it. And looked at it.

And finally found a faded number stamped on the base, which tipped off that it was a Weber 38DGAS. Armed with this, I bought a rebuild kit, and set about fixing her.
I also had my first brush with shipfitters disease, for while the carb was off, I set about cleaning this and that, scraping a bit here, painting this other bit...and thus I realized that I really enjoyed this restoration thing. It just gets worse.