I “got into wrenching” literally. I opened the hood of a ’59 Ford F-100 and climbed over the fenders into the engine bay. On that old machine, a svelte 14-year-old (or even a hefty 53-year-old) could easily find several spots to stand and inspect the engine.
My self-education began by tracing wires to see where they started and ended and trying to figure out what did what. Then I started taking unimportant-looking stuff apart. Much to my chagrin, I discovered the pickup had an oil-bath air filter. Instead of a modern paper element air filter, the truck employed oil to remove dirt. The contents of the oil-bath filter covered me and the driveway. Often, you have to learn the hard way.
I crawled under the truck, took wheels off, and generally just looked around. I changed the oil, carefully renewed the air cleaner, replaced the rearend and transmission oil, and changed the spark plugs. All this could be done today by a 14-year-old with few tools, no fear, and a lack of parental supervision.
My first mechanical success came when the truck’s crankcase vent tube clogged up. I diagnosed and corrected the problem. Success is a great motivator. Success comes when you like something and you like something when you’re successful. From there, it was on to changing drum brakes, repairing leaking wheel cylinders, and more.
When I moved up to a ’71 Ford Torino, I purchased a repair manual. That started a reading frenzy. I bought a textbook from the local high school auto shop class. If the Torino needed new shocks or its bearings repacked, I read the manual and started to work.
Not every project was successful. I pulled the head from friend’s Fiat 124 to have the leaking valves ground. Reassembly one the double overhead cam engine went perfectly. Except for one tiny detail. The Fiat’s fuel pump had to be timed to miss something important (never figured out what). The manual either didn’t address it, the important part was smeared in grease, or the Italian-English translation wasn’t clear. That near success turned into a very bad failure. (Later, a pro mechanic friend, an Alfa Romeo specialist, said, “I’d rather starve than work on Fiats.” I sure hope they’ve improved over the years.)
Here’s how to get into wrenching: Just do it. Get a manual: A dead-tree instructional is better than one on a computer. You don’t want to screw up the computer AND the car.