I really wish I had good news to deliver about the manual 1994 Jeep Grand Cherokee “Holy Grail” I’ve been trying to fix for what seems like at least a decade. You’d think that buying a parts car and having a friend fly in from Wisconsin solely to help me wrench on this Jeep would lead to some kind of success. But alas, it all just led to failure. Slimy, stinky, rusty failure.
Two years ago, I intercepted two hyper-rare five-speed manual Jeep Grand Cherokees, bought them for $350 apiece, and then began the arduous process of trying to merge them into one functional Jeep. I’ve been buying up all sorts of parts to try to make that the ultimate Jeep Grand Cherokee ever built, but the truth is: I haven’t really gotten anywhere. Sure, I swapped a transmission from the rusty Jeep to the transmissionless, non-rusty one, but after that, the Jeep languished in my employee parking lot, where it acted as a safe haven for a cat giving birth to a litter of four kittens.
Last month, I promised that I’d partake in a last-ditch effort to get the Jeep ready for this year’s Easter Jeep Safari at the end of this month, but I can tell you based on this past weekend: That’s not happening. The Jeep is a basket case. It’s such a basket case, in fact, that I went ahead and bought the two-wheel drive version below as a parts Jeep to help me figure out what goes where, and to offer up any components that I might need – the entire exhaust system from the manifold back, for example.
The parts Jeep is much, much nicer than the red Jeep I towed across the country from Michigan, but it’s not an original five-speed 4×4 “Holy Grail.” Yes, I could swap the Grail’s drivetrain parts into the nicer two-wheel drive machine, but it wouldn’t feel right. Am I a bit of a romantic when it comes to rare cars? Yes. Does that romance bite me in the ass most of the time? Also yes.
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That ass-biting began with a broken exhaust stud. I was loosening the Jeep’s cracked exhaust manifold, and everything was working well. None of the bolts were stuck, and frankly, up until that point, every fastener was spinning right out without issue. But then, on the final exhaust stud — the rearmost one closest to the firewall — disaster struck:
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My solution involved removing the cylinder head, drilling a hole into the broken exhaust stud, and then using an EZ-Out screw extractor to zip the broken bolt-shank out of the head:
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I’m not entirely sure if breaking that stud was a bad thing or a blessing, because removing that cylinder head (after running a compression test; the engine scored very well) to address the broken stud led me to discover sludge. Lots of sludge:
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The sludge was possibly the result of contaminated oil sitting in the engine far too long, but whatever the cause, the case was severe. The sludge was almost solid, requiring me to dig it out with a flathead screwdriver. I managed to remove a shocking amount of sludge, mostly from under the valve cover and near where the lifters ride along the camshaft (in the block on the left side of the cylinder head-less deck).
I cleared out as much sludge as I could, but I’ve decided to clean or all the lifters as I’m concerned they may have sludge in them. And lord knows I don’t want to have to replace lifters after the cylinder head is back on. I’m also leaning towards pulling the oil pan to make sure nothing blocks the oil pickup tube, thereby jeopardizing engine lubrication.
Ever bench-pressed a gas tank? pic.twitter.com/0Qcb8kiGlh
— David Tracy (@davidntracy) March 11, 2024
The hits kept coming. With the help of Dustin and Autopian reader Jack, I lowered the Jeep’s gas tank to the ground to drain the old gas, only to find the black rubber seals had seemingly liquified and contaminated the fuel. I’m worried about what the rest of the fuel system looks like.
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So at this point, I’d broken an exhaust stud, removed the cylinder head to get better access, only to then discover alarming globs of sludge in the motor. I’d discovered a sludgy fuel system, and …
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This isn’t the same vehicle, it’s that World War II Jeep I bought for $85 last month. I figured since I had Dustin there, and the ZJ project had ground to a halt due to me needing to buy new gas tank rubber bits and snag new lifters (or clean the ones I have), I may as well take the cylinder head off the World War II Jeep I’d bought and then left outside in a rain storm with nothing covering the intake. I wanted to see if there was water in the cylinders, and what did I discover? Yes, yes there was.
Based on the video above, I’m inclined to believe cylinder two had water in it for well over a month, while cylinder four had only recently flooded, possibly due to my negligence. In any case, it looks like the motor is toast; I’ll try to free it up with automatic transmission fluid and a breaker bar, but that F-head Willys motor under my Jeep’s hood is likely nothing more than a paperweight. That’s OK because the plan is to put a Nissan Leaf motor into it.
As you can see, I couldn’t catch a break while wrenching this past weekend. But as I like to remind myself, discovering and understanding problems — and devising solutions to them — is one of the hardest but most rewarding aspects of wrenching. It felt like I took 100 steps backward this weekend, but it’s all part of a journey toward bringing these vehicles back to life.
You’ve long passed the point at which you need to start putting more value on your time. I know there are other things you are getting from the donor and this isn’t a perfect example, but an aftermarket exhaust manifold with the bellows in the 1 and 6 exhaust runners that helps prevent cracks can be had for $100.
In that example, you’re not buying an exhaust manifold. You’re buying your time removing the current one, and replacing it when it eventually cracks or re-cracks after you’ve welded it. How much would you pay, or how many other sacrifices would you make, to have another weekend of wrenching time? Put a price on that, then compare it to how much time you spent trying to go down the cheapest possible path.
You’ve shown how cheaply you can get a running 4.0. You’ve rebuilt them loads of times. Do you really need to rebuild this one for this project?
Wrenching is fun, but so is having a project car that you can drive. It goes from a liability to an asset.
Your problem is in your defining what is truly a holy grail.
Instead of using the donor as the base, you’re creating a Ship of Theseus out of the “holy grail” machine.
How many parts are you going to replace until all you’re left with is the shell and the pedal box defining your OG machine?
I’m all for lost causes and money pits (my ’86 merc, at this point of sunken cost, I could’ve started with a car with 1/3rd the mileage), but this is an uphill battle of your own creation. One that is seeing you miss your goal of actually using the machine for a fun adventure!
It’s all about the VIN
I mean, if that section of sheet metal donated itself from the original vehicle…
weewoo weewoo
I’m not saying remove the VIN plate, that’s clearly illegal. However, we’re allowed to replace and repair sheet metal. So the question is once again, how much of the original car is needed? The windshield frame? The A-pillar? Where is the line drawn, so long as you never removed that VIN plate from where it is affixed or stamped?
Mr Tracy. I’ve always liked your style, but come on man just get a boneyard motor and scrap the other one. You will be on your way in no time with your skills! We know you’re busy, but we miss your adventures and you’re so close to like taking a broken jeep into the Sierra Nevada or something
Oh man, sorry about the sludge motor, David. Just like my first Jeep, a 73 CJ-5. Although the oil pressure gauge didn’t work, the 258 pulled well during the test drive so I bought it. Got the gauge working to discover 10 psi at cold idle, 0 at hot idle, and giving it the gas only blipped it up 5 psi. I removed the valve cover (can’t remember why) and found an inch of sludge on it. Had to scrape it out with a putty knife. Did the kerosene oil charge after that and watched chunks dribble out of the oil pan.
I thought that motor was done. But the crazy part is, it still ran strong and I used it for another couple years! Even attended a bunch of Jeep Jamborees all over the Northeast. I finally got fed up fiddling with the Carter 2 barrel carb that constantly gave me problems and jumped on a 304 that a friend gave me. Long story short, it never ran as well as the 6.
You’ve got enough other wrenching to do. Flush that motor and run it!
Well, you don’t know until you dig into it. At least you finally got things rolling. I’m sure will not be the end of this saga….
the important thing is, youre wrenching!!!
If I were closer to you, I’d give you $85.00 for that F-Head right now. That’d make the Jeep a wash for you.
That mill is a long ways from toast.