from http://www.speedhunters.com/2012/12/building-the-ultimate-grip-n-drift-datsun/
Today we have a special guest blog from our friend Nino Karotta
from Hungary who is here with the tale of an amazing Datsun S30 build.
The car is amazing and so is his story. Enjoy!
-Mike
It’s been more than a decade since on my way home from work one
evening I first laid my eyes on that impossibly long-nosed silhouette
of this particular S30, a 1974 260Z, parked leisurely on the sidewalk.
It wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, I’d been in love since early
childhood, my brown Datsun toy sports car an all-time personal favorite.
But living in post-socialist Hungary, this unexpected encounter was my
first chance to see one in the flesh. It was for sale too.
God I was excited. I saw the weird hand-made nose. I knew that the
reason behind such customization could easily be accident damage and
lack of proper spares. Yet I bought her the next day. For a lot more
money than I had. But I had to have her. Meet Aardvark, my super-long
nosed Datsun 260Z, named after the ant-eating hunchback mammal of
Africa.
Remember that part about paying more than I could afford? After
owning the car for a year or so, it became clear that a ground-up
restoration was unavoidable. Yes, it did look decent from a distance,
but behind that protruding snout there were crumpled chassis members and
mechanical issues. Also bad, deadly structural rust. I was 25, working
14-hour days on what later became Hungary’s most popular car website,
and lacking time and money, I parked her in a friend’s backyard. I
wanted to assemble the parts for period-correct modifications, triple
Webers, tubular manifolds, fender mirrors, the works. I’ve managed to
source a set of badly battered but original front panels, but nothing
else. And then I got bit by the drift bug. So I blew my money on an AE86
instead and hit the track. The rust slowly munched away on my beloved
Aardvark.
In 2009 I was about to get married. It was time to get sensible.
Settle down. But a visit to my friend’s yard shocked me with the sight
of a sapling growing through the dead body of my old Z. I just couldn’t
take it. I decided there and then that no matter what, I’d bring her
back to life. Yes, it took me 8 years of neglect and bad conscience to
finally kickstart the project. But these 8 years have also made me
smarter. By now I knew that a mere restoration was off the agenda.
Terminal rust made that financially unfeasible. Worse, I haven’t matured
into a decent classics guy. I still feel the most alive on a racetrack,
battling against the clock or against the rear tires. So there was only
one way ahead: to turn Aardvark into an all-out race car. One that will
look and sound period-correct, but that can take the mental abuse of
competitive Time Attack and drifting.
I didn’t know the exact path my project would follow but I sure as
hell had a vision. I used the gorgeous, sensual yet wildly bad-ass IMSA
GTU 240Z and 260Z racers that dominated the US tracks in the seventies
as an inspiration. I wanted curvy hips and muscularly round buttocks. I
wanted the silhouette, sound and soul of a bygone era brought to today’s
race tracks without the fragility and complicated maintenance
associated with historic racers – especially in Europe, where the S30 is
so rare it’s nearly extinct. So I had to build my own shell and my own
car underneath. One that I can still proudly call a Nissan Z.
By accident, a friend stumbled upon a set of JDM Hayashi Street
wheels in a rural junkyard, hand painted in offensive yellow. I got
those. Then I met a team of super talented guys who were experts at
making fiberglass bodykits for cars. They loved the project as much as I
did. They wanted to help out, but only if we could start immediately,
for their schedule was packed. We spent millions of hours discussing the
shape, sculpting it from rough slabs of styrol, then from plaster. For
long months the shell was shaped, re-shaped, then lovingly hand-sanded,
caressed to exactly the way I wanted. Then the molds were made. This –
building a shell before any mechanical work has been carried out – is so
stupid it hurts. But this is how we did it.
I wanted an all-fiberglass exterior. Partly to save weight, but
mostly for ease of repair. This way I’d have the molds, and if (when) I
eventually broke something, it’s only a matter of hours to cheaply
reproduce the part. This affected my new wheel choice as well. First it
was determined that, in order to run the brakes required for modern TA,
we needed 17 inches or more. As I feel that big wheels are ungainly on
old cars, I considered that to be the maximum. I hopelessly lusted after
old school JDM wheels, but the vintage items are too small and the
moderns simply unattainable. Remember, I’m from Eastern Europe and we
don’t have supply channels from Japan. As the car will spend all of its
time riding kerbs, hitting walls and falling into ditches and gravel
traps, I needed wheels that I can replace if broken. Hence the Rotas.
Trust me, I’ll be here to tell you if they are any good. Or bad. They’ll
get the worst – yet possibly some of the most stylish – stress tests
ever.
Some 13 months after the work on the bodyshell was started, we had a
semi-finished roll cage installed with the S13 suspension preliminarily
fitted. It was about time to get serious with the fabrication. That was
when the 2011 megathrust earthquake and the following tsunami hit Japan.
The utter destruction shocked the whole world. We, as lovers of
Japanese automobiles and admirers of the culture felt terribly moved. It
was decided, that in an upcoming classic cars show, our magazine would
organize a mini-exhibit of Japanese exotica, ranging from the minuscule
Honda Z600 and S800 through the iconic Mazda RX-3 to the S30, among
others. Hell, we’d even build a recreation of a Yaki-imo (焼き芋) [sweet
potato] selling minicar to raise money for charity. Now, there are not
many vintage Japanese cars around here, so we absolutely needed mine on
our stand. That meant that we had to abandon all the metalwork, to
quickly have the FRP shell painted for the show.
This sad occasion has led me to the final design of the livery. The
base color is white, a traditional Japanese racing color. The side view
is meant to evoke the rising sun and the flag of Japan. The top view is
the Hungarian tricolor of red-white-green. All in all the exterior
wanted to symbolize the friendship of our distant nations and our
sympathies for those struck by the catastrophe. The painting and final
assembly took the best part of two sleepless weeks.
Please note that at this point Aardvark was a barely rolling empty
shell. We had no means to adjust ride height or “stance”, we just wanted
to show to the people that these kind of cars once ripped the tracks of
distant countries and ruled the races of the free world. The black
vents on the sides are functional, they aid engine and brake cooling and
smoke evacuation. Some of you may notice that the B-pillar (the door
window rear frame) is gone, and instead, the whole Lexan side screen is
one single, undivided unit. This is the way I wanted it to further
emphasize the lithe beauty of the Z.
I have to say that the visitors just seemed to love what they saw.
The reception was overwhelmingly positive, in a country where the vast
majority of people had no idea that such cars ever existed at all.
People learned there indeed there was such a thing as vintage
Japanese/American racing scene – it’s just fantastic. After the three
days of the show, it was time to finally build a car under those FRP
panels. The size of the task? Well, see for yourself below.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, this is our front end. The task:
engineer and build a frame around that wheel, and a linkage to make it
turn. Now as sweet as it would’ve been to transplant an entire S13 front
suspension under the Datsun, it was not meant to be. By this time I’d
already bought the engine, a 3.5 litre V6 from a wrecked Nissan 350Z to
follow the Z-car blood line. The S13 steering rack would’ve never
cleared the VQ35 sump. so we needed to source components that would
allow us to run a front steer setup, where the steering rack is ahead
of the axle line.
I’ll spare you the details on how to design, engineer and build a
tube frame and a front suspension that has decent roll center to go with
the S13 rear end, proper steering geometry, nice camber gain in roll,
low anti-dive and bump-steer and acceptable Ackermann, all while staying
true to the 260Z wheelbase and basic proportions. Let me just tell you
that during those weeks I spent considerably more time sleeping on my
keyboard than on my pillow.
So what does remain of the original shell? Well, the sills, the
pillars, some of the firewall, the whole roofline and the majority of
the rear unibody, minus the floor. The rest: custom tubing and a
comprehensive roll cage, all covered with FRP panels.
This is how it looks painted and assembled, viewed from the front.
You can see how the low sump forces us to use the BMW power steering
rack and knuckles. Everything else are race-spec S13 items. The
coilovers are from Driftworks, the brakes Wilwood 4 pots at the front,
Skylines at the rear. Note that the frame is ready for an aerodynamic
flat bottom.
Interior view. Note the custom shorty propshaft, as the 350Z 6-speed
tranny nearly reaches the S13 diff, so tiny is the Datsun chassis. Other
features: adjustable steering column, pedal box, hydraulic handbrake.
Front Nissan S13/BMW E46 hybrid suspension. Note the yet unpainted
front sub-structure supporting the radiators and the undertray. In the
background you can see the exhaust primaries in black wrap.
Here’s the rigidly mounted Nissan S13 rear end with Driftworks
adjustable arms and Geomaster knuckles. You can also see the S13 diff
with 2-way Kaaz mechanical LSD and safety fuel cell. Note the metal mesh
protecting the FRP fenders from disintegrating tires.
Rolling chassis with engine block trial fitted. As you can probably
tell, there is not much in front of the front axle. This is good for
weight distribution and low polar moment of inertia, helping turn-in.
Beautifully gusseted ties between the A-pillars and the roll cage to
enhance chassis rigidity.
Slightly upgraded Nissan 350Z engine. Why V6, I hear you ask?
Firstly, because NA. For me, a classic should never be force-fed. The
instant response, the induction noise, the tractability all favor
atmospheric engines. Secondly, because of the stubbiness: it’s roughly
half the length of the original L6 iron block, or the venerable
RB25/26/30, which is a huge help with weight distribution.
Now you probably understand my engine choice somewhat better. Yes,
the VQ35 is actually in the car and I’m in the engine bay as well,
sitting on the crossmember, looking silly. There’s still room in front
of me. That’s how long the S30 engine bay is, and how short the VQ
engine is.
Yes, ITBs, dammit! I’ve been a sucker for ITBs forever, as those are
the closest you can get to carbs in feeling and sound, while giving you
the tune-ability of modern fuel injection. The neck-snapping, violent
response of a big-lunged, ITB NA engine is second to none. They also
tend to emit a proper old-school bark and shriek under load, which is
just priceless in a vintage recreation. Under those trumpets sits a set
of C8 camshafts from Jim Wolf Technology and six forged Eagle conrods.
We’ve also upgraded the oil pump to the later HR models.
Our custom primary exhaust pipes and the 3-1 collector. Most off-the
shelf collectors for the 350Z engine are compromised in order to fit
into the crammed engine bay or are meant to meet the factory exhaust
components, which is just nonsense for us. Others are meant to hold and
feed turbos, which I do not intend to do, ever. So after a lot of number
crunching and some excellent fabrication by pwracing in Hungary, here
is a set of graceful long-tube headers, optimized for flow and harmonics
in the 6500 RPM region.
Gases will leave through two black side pipes, as there was no way to
fit the exhaust tubes under our flat underfloor, or indeed anywhere
else. Believe me, they look rather hot.
A look at the pedal box and the brushed aluminum tranny-tunnel
paneling.
The semi-finished interior with the dashboard recreated from
fiberglass. In the end, it will be black. The gauges are analog-faceted
but modern, digital Stack items. There’s also an old-school Nardi wooden
wheel from Japan, period correct toggle switches and warning lamps
everywhere.
As you can see, both front and rear fenders had to be remade since
the classics expo last year. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s downright
silly to finish the exterior before the mechanicals. It turned out that
at the desired race ride height of 80 mm or 3.1″ there was no way to fit
the wheels. So this time the fenders are wider and allow more wheel
travel in bump. The ride height is not set, please ignore the high nose
for now. Also note how the engine is pushed far back in the chassis.
A look at the trial-fitted underfloor with the venturi/diffuser. I’m
not keen on mounting wings on a classic, yet we need to get rid of
dangerous aerodynamic lift. We’ve made a fully functional flat composite
underfloor, uninterrupted from splitter to diffuser. The venturi begins
just in front of the rear axle line. Strakes are not installed yet. You
can’t see much of this from the outside, but you’re sure as hell glad
for it when traveling down a straight above 160 mph.
Aardvark nearing completion. We set it on corner scales, and the
current wet weight with all fluids, excluding driver and around 30 kgs
or 60 lbs worth of miscellanea is 1,008 kgs or 2,222 lbs. That’s roughly
15% less than the original weight, with a significant increase in
safety and rigidity, and more than twice the power. What’s even better,
the weight distribution turned out as 48/52% F/R, which means that we
managed to build a very slightly rear heavy front-engined race car,
without an exotic transaxle keeping all the Nissan parts. That’s more
than great.
And finally here’s a graphic illustration of the soon-to-be finished
car, created by a fan of the project in the style of the Japanese Tamiya
scale model covers. If you want to hear the sound of the engine at the
first start, or see the flames dancing in the ITBs throats, please check
out the
video.
Or, if you had enough of the old school, but would like to see me
drift the new GT86 through Europe to finally pitch it against my old
AE86, then head over to
Youtube.
I really hope to get Aardvark race-ready by the coming season and to
do some visual justice to the incredible amount of work that went into
its creation by shooting the mother of all vintage Japanese driving
action videos with it. Then another one, documenting its evolution from
crude newborn to dialed-in racer. And another one. And then some more.
Thanks to:
My wife Diana for still not divorcing me
PWRacing for the build
OMG Visuals for the bodyshell
and the forthcoming film
All the friends and supporters
Cheers,
Nino Karotta
