Several things went well, and I felt like a turning point had been reached. Duane supplied a perfectly good used shock. The steering box went back together correctly on the third try -- well, next time I'll know what to scribe so everything aligns right the first time. I cut a top cover gasket for it out of material before discovering I already had one put away, but it's fine like that. I even woke up one day knowing the answer to the spinning coupler bolt dilemma: they're Allen heads.

It was now Sunday of the week before Track Day Friday, and I finally gave up any idea of doing the engine swap before than. There's nothing particularly wrong with the engine in the car -- it's a B18, but it is the most powerful variant of B18, with 10:1 compression and a "C" cam. After years of messing around with high-performance this and that, I was curious to see just how well a stock motor could be made to run, in any case.

The front suspension went back on the car without a struggle. I put lots of anti-seize stuff on the big bolts, Aqua-lubed the Delrin upper bushings, did a solid soldering job and used lots of heat shrink on the horn wire inside the steering shaft, and bought entirely new end links (with urethane bushings) for the front swaybar. Still unable to grip much with my right hand, I found that my valve spring compressor was ideal for squeezing the end links enough to get the nuts started.

When sun and wasps made the garage untenable, I belatedly turned my attention to rebuilding the brake calipers. Having looked at the parts in the seal kit and reading about it in Haynes, it didn't look difficult. I was disabused of this pleasant notion in the first five minutes of trying it.

First, there's the part about using compressed air to start the pistons on their way out, and then "gently priseing" them the rest of the way with one's fingers. Not my fingers -- not even if I'd had all ten working. I could see heavy plier marks all around the exposed ends; someone had been into these before. I put a few more on without budging the pistons one iota. I really couldn't see trying to get the local gas station to rig up suitable adapters for their air hose, but there was a way to do it with plain old hydraulic pressure.

The next day, I bolted the calipers back on the car without pads, hooked up the new stainless hoses and enlisted Marsha's help. It took a lot of brake fluid to fill the drained calipers, but we eventually got the system bled enough to pressure one caliper piston almost out -- at which point, all the fluid leaked out past its seal onto the garage floor. We'd have to start over -- the concept was OK, but the execution needed some refinement.

I experimented for quite a while with placing various thicknesses of corrogated cardboard (from old moving boxes) between pistons and rotors, while Marsha patiently sat in the car and read a book, occasionally giving the brake pedal a pump when requested. Some hours and over a quart of Castrol LMA later, all six pistons were fairly well extended. I carefully took it all back apart and headed for the Chamber of Horrors in the basement.

The pistons came out without too much more effort, and right away I could see a problem -- they had rust. I was running out of time, and I'd already run out of money several hundred dollars ago, so (against my better judgment), I figured I had to make them work. I polished and polished until they didn't look so bad. After all, the calipers had not been leaking before I started messing with them.

Maybe because of my weak hand, I found putting the pistons back in to be a slow, agonizing process. There's a real trick to keeping the new dust boots seated while forcing the pistons past the new seals; everything is coated in slippery brake fluid and wants to cock one way or the other. It took me a good three hours to get the first caliper back together and my fingers looked like a topographical map of Bryce Canyon. And so ended Monday.

Tuesday morning, the second caliper took just as long. It was afternoon before I had Marsha come out for another brake bleeding session. A half-hour later, it seemed like the brakes were back in business, only... why is there fluid dripping out the bottom of the right caliper? Oh, the other one's doing it, too. SIGH.

The brakes didn't care how broke I was. Rusty pistons + new seals = leaking fluid, and that's all there was to it. This wasn't going to work, period. I took it all apart, chucked the calipers into a pan to drain (again), and washed up.

Leafing through a car magazine, I came upon an ad advertising factory rebuilt calipers (whatever that means) for a sensible price (Ow! My wallet!). What particularly attracted me was the fact that these could be had with Jaguar-style stainless steel pistons which presumably wouldn't be rusty when I took on my next caliper rebuild job twenty years hence, having completely forgotten what this one had been like. I got the credit card and E-mailed an order on the spot, stressing the urgency of the situation.

The next morning, Wednesday, I couldn't let that sit. I called long distance -- yes, they had gotten my order and yes, they'd expedite the calipers right away. I felt better.

I spent the next few days waiting for the UPS truck, pottering about and pondering philosophical profundities like whether or not Ricky Martin's upper and lower teeth actually touch when there are no cameras around.

Friday afternoon, I was trying to imagine what Track Day would be like. In exactly seven days, having spent the morning and early afternoon at high speed sorting out tuning fine points and tire pressures, I'd just be starting on the timed runs. I logged onto the Internet for (yet another) look at the track maps on PIR's web site. But first, let's check the E-mail...

There was a message from the brake caliper company. Turns out they were fresh out of cores -- of course, all I had to do was ship mine across the continent, give them three or four days to work them up, and they'd have them right back to me.

AAAAUUUUUGGGHH!

Jaguar pistons? Who cares?! What was I thinking?!! I had RPR on the phone in thirty seconds. Yes, they really, truly did have calipers in stock. Did I really want to pay to have them sent by Next Day Air? OK, that would have them to me Monday. I could turn in my cores anytime.

The guy called me back (sorry -- my brain seems to have cleared his name out of cache) fifteen minutes later: shipping would be nearly $70, was I really sure that was OK? Hmmm. Second Day shipping was less than half that and would get them to me Tuesday. That should work. Thanks, that's great service.

If no further snags caught me, I'd get to go racing yet.