Articles: McCopy – Kiwi Ingenuity – 221

May 5th, 2010 by NZ Classic Car

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What do you do if you want your own CanAm racer but can’t afford an original? Well, if you’re Russell Keach you simply build your own

There’s a reason why, during the golden age of motor sport, Kiwi mechanics were held in such high regard within international racing circles — years of intrusive government legislation in New Zealand meant that only a few Kiwis could ever get their hands on up-to-date vehicles, especially when it came to specialised motor racing machinery. As a result, Kiwis learned how to adapt and modify out-dated cars or, in some cases, became hands-on builders to produce their own road-going and racing specials.

These days, of course, no such obstacles exist, but many New Zealanders still love the challenge of modifying cars, or take great satisfaction from building their own cars from scratch. This manner of thinking — ‘if I can’t afford to buy an original; well, I’ll simply build my own out of what is available’ — is one of the foundation stones of the much lauded Kiwi No8 wire philosophy.

There is little doubt that Russell Keach has taken this philosophy to heart. A long-standing member of the Hirepool management team, Russell has always been passionate about cars and, more recently, has adapted the proverbial No8 wire way of thinking to making a unique statement by building his own car.

The Starting Point

Like all potential specials builders, Russell’s initial entry into the field was modest. During the late ’70s he had built go-karts and, many years, later, he slotted a 4A-GE twin-cam engine into a rear-wheel drive Toyota Starlet. These were fruitful beginnings, arming Russell with some useful skill-sets. The Starlet, however, wouldn’t last — as a middle-aged man in a hot-hatch, Russell soon tired of being referred to as a ‘geriatric boy racer’ and the Toyota was eventually sold — presumably to a much younger driver.

With those experiences under his belt, Russell turned back towards his long abiding passion for classic race cars. Initially, he thought about building a Lotus 23B — and even got so far as to find a genuine car and measure its vital dimensions. However, the more Russell thought about the 23B, the more he came to realize that he really didn’t care too much for its shape. He briefly considered building a Cobra or Ford GT40, but replicas of these cars were virtually 10-a-penny — he wanted to build something different. It was at this point that he remembered the slot-cars he had raced as a boy in the ’60s and, in particular, the scratch-built McLaren M8B he had once spent many hours pounding around his home ‘circuit.’

From the start, Russell knew he had neither the tools or the skills to replicate the M8B’s monocoque chassis, but the idea was now circulating through his head and, as he examined the Lotus 23B, he began to understand how its basic design could be made to work in different applications. At first, the thought of designing a car’s suspension system, complete with anti-dive, anti-roll and anti-squat geometry, seemed insurmountable.

It seemed too complex but, after examining the front suspension set-up on a Beattie Clubman at a local race meeting, Russell realised that simplicity was the key — after all, the Beatties performed well on the track. Sparked with fresh enthusiasm, Russell began examining Lotus 7 technical drawings — they also featured a straightforward, uncomplicated suspension design and everyone knew that 7s handled as if they were glued to the road.

With the fresh inspiration provided by the above, he embarked on a preliminary learning exercise — one designed to refresh the welding skills he had acquired building go-karts in the ’70s.

Russell’s self-imposed exercise involved building a Lotus 7 as a practice run for the construction of his dream car. Progress was swift, and a Lotus 7-style chassis soon began to take shape in his home garage. In fact, Russell was so happy with the chassis that he decided not to go any further, and build a complete car. Convinced that he could make the grade, the chassis was sold and he moved onto the next step.

The CanAm Tribute Project

At this point, it’s worth noting that — despite his kart-building and the Starlet project — Russell is neither a mechanic or engineer. He has never worked within the automotive industry and has received no formal training in any of the disciplines required to design and build a fully functional car.

What he did have, though, was determination, seemingly infinite patience and a keen eye for technical efficiency.

As well, being effectively an outsider to the rarefied world of motor sport, Russell could not simply conjure up a complete set of technical drawing for a CanAm car— and, in New Zealand, there was no chance that he’d be able to find a genuine car over which he could run his tape measure. So how did he solve the problem?

The answer was remarkably uncomplicated — Russell simply ordered a 1:18 die-cast model of a McLaren M8B from the US. That model would provide him with the basic dimensions and shape of the car — it was just a case of scaling everything up by a factor of 18.

If that sounds daunting, bear in mind Russell’s lack of engineering training. And yet he was convinced that basing his project on a diminutive model was do-able. Now, that’s the Kiwi spirit!
On Christmas Eve, 2003, Russell laid down the bottom sections of the chassis on his work table and estimated that his replica would be up and running within 18 months to two years. In point of fact, his ambitious project would take five years to reach completion.

Using dimensions taken directly from the model, Russell set out the bulkheads, the wheel base and the relevant chassis widths. There was never any intention to fit a ‘genuine’ CamAm big-block engine into his car — a full-house 6997cc Chevrolet V8, as used by McLaren, was way beyond Russell’s budget. As such, his original plan was to slot a Mondeo V6 motor into the car so that he could keep all his measurements metric. That plan soon went out the door when, at every race meeting, he could hear the throb of a V8.

Russell briefly looked at the Lexus V8 but eventually settled on using a Rover 3.5-litre V8 — which would be much lighter than the Lexus unit and more in period with the era his car would pay tribute to. The light-alloy Rover V8, with significantly less power than the 507kW (680bhp) engines used by McLaren during its CanAm heyday, would also be easier on the car’s gearbox — bearing in mind that Russell certainly wouldn’t be considering a Hewland LG400.

His next step was to acquire an old Rover V8 which he could use as a construction dummy. It would also allow him to figure out an adaptor plate to mate the V8 to the transmission he had chosen — a five-speed 013 transaxle donated by a 1987 Audi GT. Jeff Bruce at Precision Engineering in Albany was very patient with Russell, and helped him to understand what was required in designing an adaptor plate. Using Geoff’s advice, Russell set about measuring and constructing a suitable plate, which took in the ramifications of clutch and pressure plate and of fitting a starter motor.

Jeff came up with the clever idea of running the Rover’s standard ring gear set in a recess within the adaptor plate. This also enabled Russell to run the standard starter motor, and he ended up using a modified auto ring gear, as these were plentiful. Typical of Jeff’s workmanship, the final flywheel and adaptor plate are works of art.

Autoclutch Ltd of Auckland sorted out the pressure plate and, at this stage, Russell was able to fit the motor and transmission assembly into his chassis. However, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Given that a genuine M8B would have been fitted with a monster 7.0-litre Chevrolet V8, Russell was surprised when the more compact Rover assembly did not fit. Off came the water pump and all the pulleys on the front of the harmonic balancer, the chassis bulkhead got some alterations and finally the assembly fitted. Much head scratching followed, with the final solution being provided by a small Daihatsu alternator and a Nissan water pump driven off the back of the balancer. The local Pick-A-Part provided a pile of pulleys for Russell to play with — and he ended up with a multi-groove Subaru bottom crank pulley and some other bits which allowed him to make up a belt which drove all the engine functions.

Suspension and Body

With the car’s driveline finally fitted, Russell turned his attention to designing the suspension set-up and working out the placement of the mounts. All the front wishbones were fabricated, tacked up and sent to Fraser Cars for TIG welding as they needed to be perfect. By this stage word was getting around about Russell’s project, and this interest in what he was doing provided even more inspiration.

Next on his list was sorting the car’s steering rack, and a donated Ford Escort quick-rack was the basis of the final creation. The length of the rack was determined and a new shaft cut by Auckland Gear Cutters in Panmure. Mazda-type tie-rods were threaded into the ends, and the rack was also made to he height adjustable. Pick-A-Part armed Russell with an assortment of Toyota Starlet and Corolla steering shafts so he could select the right unit for the job — his final choice being a collapsible shaft mounted to a quick release steering wheel boss, all attached to a custom adaptor on the Escort rack.

Although he would have like pendant floor pedals, the car’s low height and the location of the steering rack meant that Russell would have to use floor-mounted pedals. Determined to stick to a tight budget, he built a custom pedal box which would be mounted behind the steering rack, using rods to activate the brakes and clutch cylinders mounted in front of the steering rack.

With the main mechanical units installed, Russell began to consider the car’s body. Once again, to keep costs to a minimum he knew that he would build his own body buck and make his own moulds. However, at this stage Walter Wing suggested Russell check out the Gemco moulds — the Gemco Special was an M8B look-alike built in New Zealand in 1971.

Taking Walter’s suggestion on board, Russell looked back through his old photo albums and discovered a photograph he’s taken almost 30 years earlier of the Gemco Special. The photo confirmed Walter’s premise, and Russell was soon talking to Ian Hallett, who owned the old Gemco moulds.

The two men came to an agreement and Russell was give permission to use the Gemco moulds. However, they were not in very good condition and required considerable work to rectify shape errors and improve details before they could be used. In retrospect, Russell now believes that it would have been quicker for him to have designed and built his own moulds, as he had originally planned.

In the end, Russell spent an entire Christmas holiday period, plus a couple more months, working with the Gemco moulds and hand-laying the fibreglass, ending up with something pretty close to the essence of the McLaren CanAm car.

Shopping Spree

Work on the car halted for a while, with Russell going on holiday to the US. However, the replica was still uppermost in his mind, so a large shopping list had been prepared. As such, prior to the trip home Russell packed an assortment of parts for subsequent shipping back to New Zealand.

With the larger items packed for shipping, a further 28kg of important little bits — brake rotors and callipers, hose, MSD ignition/distributor and various fittings — was crammed into two carry-on hand bags. It’s perhaps not surprising that Russell got the full drug search at the airport. Each item was put through the sniffer but passed as being ‘clean.’ He managed to make his hand-baggage look like it weighed nothing, but it blew all the alarms during personal check-in, and when airport security took a look inside his bag at all the hose and fittings, Russell thought his goose was cooked. Luckily, the inspector was a petrol-head and quickly realised that Russell wasn’t smuggling drugs or explosive devices. The rest of the trip was uneventful, with a clean pass through customs at Auckland airport.

All these new shiny bits soon ended up on the car, with Precision Engineering turning up some new front hubs with a reduced scrub radius, increased off-set and a top hat to carry the Wilwood brake rotors Russell had bought in the US. Everything hung together smoothly, and adaptor plates were made to hang the Wilwood callipers onto Cortina MkIV uprights.

Now it was time to finalise the design of the rear suspension, and to sort out the drive components. Practicality meant that the standard Audi front-wheel drivetrain would be best used — on the Audi GT, this system supported some 1800kg and handled 112kW (150bhp). On Russell’s car, despite a higher power figure of around 179kW (240bhp), they would only be called upon to support 650kg. For Russell, this was easy stuff, especially as longer axles also gave him the correct rear track width. The lower wishbones had toe-in adjusters included, and everything else was held in place by parallel top and bottom trailing arms, bottom reversed ‘A’ arms plus a single top link.

Back to saving costs, Russell made his own rear uprights, built from sheet steel with a machined centre to carry the original Audi front bearings and the front callipers. All the clevis attachments for the ball joints were also made in Russell’s home workshop, along with all the suspension arm bushes. Another illustration of Russell’s No8 wire approach came when he thought about universal joints. Rather than purchase expensive, off-the-shelf items he instead chose to use 3/8-inch drive socket universals — a novel way of saving a few dollars.

By this stage, other parts had arrived from the US — including a Jaz fuel cell — and the Hoosier tyres ordered from Cardwells had also turned up. The car was now starting to look like something.

One problem Russell now faced was finding a seat with enough layback for the car. There were no standard items available, so the problem was solved with typical Kiwi ingenuity — one day at work, Russell spotted a new wheelbarrow. It looked like it was just the job, so Russell hopped into the barrow and tried it for size. It was perfect. The wheelbarrow was promptly whisked off home, where Russell waxed it up and used to make a fibreglass mould. With a few chops and mods, the barrow seat fitted Russell’s backside to a tee.

Sorting the V8

The dummy V8 was now beginning to look very busy, even more so when Russell fitted his self-built extractors to the engine. Everything was now taking on the semblance of a game of three-dimensional chess as he tried to fit everything into place, each component wanting to share the same space. The extractors ended up going forward then arcing back up over the chassis rear bulkhead, to cross over the gearbox before exiting on each side. A large diameter balance pipe was also added for a very healthy exhaust note.

With most of the major parts now purchased, it was time to get the motor sorted out, so Engine Specialties in Glenfield was tasked with rebuilding another low mileage short-block and completing the heads that Russell had already mildly ported. With that in hand, Russell began to think about the inlet manifold. Once again, reluctant to part with money for a tailor-made inlet, he pulled out his tools and, some 20 hours later, had a very serviceable pair of inlets waiting for a surface grind, along with a set of ‘O’-ringed soft mounts for the four twin-choke Dell’orto carburettors he had pulled off two Alfa Romeo 33 engine.

The carburettors were finished off with a set of ram pipes. Russell could have simply purchased a set of spun metal trumpets, but that would have meant spending money. Instead, he laboriously turned his own mould and made the trumpets from fibreglass. Look inside the trumpets and you can see that each carburettor inlet is protected by a neat, metal gauze protector — nothing fancy here, these are wire strainers pulled from infusion teapots which Russell purchased from The Warehouse. We’re not sure what he did with the strainer-less teapots!

Once the engine block was returned from Engine Specialties — complete with Kelford performance cam along with a modified trapdoor sump that was to catch the oil — Russell fitted a remote oil filter and plumbed in oil coolers and separate cooling fans.

All construction was now complete, with all manner of brackets hopefully installed to carry everything Russell could think of — now it was time to strip everything down and apply some paint to the car’s body. His home car port had by now become a garage, and it was soon to be converted into a sand-blasting room followed by a paint shop. Yes, Russell handled all the paintwork on the car, including the top coat of orange.

Final Assembly

With all the hard work now finished, it was time for the best part — final assembly. For Russell, this was a rewarding time, and the finale to over four years of meticulous and patient work.
As the hand-laid, fibreglass body had been fully fitted earlier, there were no issues in that fit and suddenly Russell had what looked like a completed car. In truth, there was still plenty to do. Fitting brake lines, master cylinders, callipers and pads all contributed to that complete look, as did a new set of alloy wheels. For these, Russell chose period-looking five-spoke rims — the correct, period wheels would have cost more than he had already spent on the entire car.

Russell had already wired the car up from the dashboard back, so now it was simply a case of putting the right wires in the right places — although he did get lost at one stage, and had to use a meter to trace any faults. They turned out to be minor, earths through items such as the oil pressure switch.

At this stage, Russell was bursting to fire the engine up, but kept on finding things to keep him busy. Finally, oil pressure was manually cranked and it was time to power up the ignition — boom-bang-bugger! The timing was 180 degrees out! This ‘small’ matter was soon sorted out and the Rover V8 burst into life, surrounded by very large grins. A minor problem with a loose alternator belt and a blown charging circuit were soon rectified, after which the engine ran sweetly.

The motor was then run up to bed in the cam, and was now ready for its first run. However, Russell decided to forego that pleasure as the completed car was to be on display at the upcoming Speedshow in Greenlane, Auckland. At that stage, Russell had only driven it in first and reverse gear as he manoeuvred it on his driveway, so he decided a trailer would be needed to get it to the show. Typically, Russell built his own trailer from scratch.

The final touch was the addition of a front windscreen — which was formed using a heat gun. The screen was fitted to the car a day before the Speedshow.

Russell had wanted to drive it into the show from the car park but was thwarted by rain, so the car was simply pushed into place. At the show, reaction from visitors was mostly positive, many enthusiasts identifying with cars from the legendary CanAm era. In fact, the public response to Russell’s self-built car made all his work well worthwhile, and he was determined to drive it out of the show. So, at 6pm sharp, he hopped into the car and fired up the V8.

As Russell put it himself, “My head nearly fell off from the size of my smile — it was like driving a bath-tub with a V8 in your back pocket. I was thrilled with the sound and my tentative stab at the car’s performance.”

Russell still has a few minor things to sort out — including a wheel alignment — before he drives the car in anger. He doesn’t plan to race it, but has since taken to the track at Pukekohe in his creation — now christened the McCopy — and you can tell from his huge grin that he thoroughly enjoyed the experience. “The sound from the Rover V8 was simply awesome and, although I wasn’t pushing it too hard, the car felt good on the track.”

Russell may not have a massive Chevrolet V8 in his car but, with around 179kW on tap to propel a vehicle weighing only 630kg (which makes for a better power-to-weight ratio than a Dodge Viper), a thrilling ride is guaranteed.

We’ll leave the final words to Russell — “All along it has been a fantastic journey of learning, sharing a passion, enjoying people’s delight at the project and one of quiet satisfaction at what has been achieved, all of which I could not have done with out my wife’s support. Time to enjoy!”

Special thanks to Barry Kirk-Burnnand who allowed us to use his genuine McLaren M12 as a backdrop for this feature — if you’d like to read more about Barry’s M12, grab a copy of the April 2001 edition of NZ Classic Car, which featured this McLaren on the front cover.

McCopy – Specifications

Engine: All-alloy Rover V8
Capacity: 3.5-litre
Max power: 179kW (240bhp, estimated)
Fuel system: Four Dell’orto twin choke 40mm downdraught carburettors
Transmission: Audi five-speed transaxle, Kevlar clutch
Steering: Modified and widened Escort rack and pinion, with custom-made quick rack
Suspension: F/R Independent, unequal length wishbones, coils and telescopic shock absorbers, anti-roll bar
Chassis: Tubular steel space-frame
Body: Fibreglass body, nose and tail modified ex GEMCO
Brakes: Front: 318mm vented discs/ Wilwood four-pot callipers Rear: 267mm vented discs/ Audi two-pot callipers
Wheels: Challenger alloy — F: 15×8/R: 15×10
Tyres: Hoosier — F: 235.55×15/ R: 275.55×15