There is something really classic about those old 1980s and ’90s Ford truck screw-on center caps. They scream bullnose, brick-nose, OBS. When you see them on a truck, you know it’s an old-school Ford truck, and I really like the look. Dodge and Chevy had their versions, but these are Ford DNA. I like them enough that in my current builds — the Bronco and I think even the F-150 — I’m going to use these caps, but they have a problem.
Howdy folks, Ed here. Welcome back to Bone’s Garage. The problem with these center caps, as cool as they are, is that they screw on. There is no other way to retain the caps on a rim except by screwing them on. The old-school Ford rims have screw holes, but these Bassett racing rims do not. In fact, almost all aftermarket rims won’t have the necessary screw holes to install these center caps.
If you want to use those caps on aftermarket wheels, you have to drill holes into the rims, like I did on these Bassett racing rims. I’ll show you exactly how to do that. It’s not that hard, but there are some things to pay attention to so everything lines up correctly — these wheels spin fast, and if it’s out of whack it will wobble. I’ll give measurements for the hole sizes and widths so you know what to look for in aftermarket wheels. Not all aftermarket wheels list these measurements, but with some numbers you’ll have ammunition to find the right wheels.
Here’s a top-down view of my Bassett wheel so you can see how the cap will align. You could eyeball it and punch the holes, but there is a little bit of wiggle even when the obvious holes appear lined up. Because this is a Bassett rim, I have to use 45° conical seat open-ended lug nuts. Even with the lug nut in place, you can still wiggle the cap around quite a bit. That wiggle could make it look funny on the road or slightly affect the balance.
If the ones are close, it’s probably not much of an issue. Here’s how you deal with that: you have to make sure these are centered perfectly on the rim. To do that properly, we need to mount the wheel onto the vehicle. Before we do, I’ll show what I use to get it there to begin with. I have a digital caliper and some round rubber spacers. They measure about 1 in wide and about 1.18 in (30 mm) in the middle, which is what you want for the lug. The 1 in is not big enough to fill this space, and I couldn’t find an exact spacer that fit tightly, so I wrapped Gorilla tape around the outside until it fit perfectly inside. That will help ensure the center cap is centered when the wheel is on the vehicle and over the lugs. For this step you need the wheel, the vehicle, three of the five lug nuts, the spacers, the center cap, and a good solid punch. Mount the wheel and get three lugs on in the right positions. You do this to make sure the wheel is centered; lug nuts will center the wheel on the hub unless you’re using hub-centric aftermarket wheels, in which case you’d center the hub instead. I’m not torquing these down fully, just snugging them so the wheel is centered and won’t move. Put the center cap on, then pop the spacers in; they should be tight to hold everything in place. There is enough play around the lug holes that you can’t fully rely on the lug nuts to center the cap, which is what these little plugs are for. By alternating the three and two positions, it keeps the cap in a stable spot so it won’t move while you mark it. Use a punch to make your marks, trying to get as close to the center of each hole as you can. This is a bit of eyeballing; there are methods to be more precise, but punching the marks on a bench isn’t reliable because a wheel that looks centered on a table might not be centered relative to the lug pattern when mounted. I’ve got two of the four done already; this is my third, and I’ll grab the fourth and finish them up.
You bolt the wheel to the truck and use your spacers. Everything’s locked in exactly where it lives in the real world. The cap sits dead center on the hub and your lug holes are perfectly aligned around all five studs. That’s what keeps the cap from ending up just a hair off, where one screw’s tight, another was crooked, and the whole thing looks a little wonky once it’s spinning. Doing it on the truck guarantees it’s true to the actual geometry of your lugs, not eyeballed off the bench. It takes a few extra minutes, but it’s worth it to get that perfect fit.
All right, time to drill and tap our wheels to accept the screws. These screws are 1/4-20 — that’s what came with my caps from Amazon. I think most of them are 1/4-20, but I’m not 100% sure. Because these are 1/4-20, I’m using a number seven drill bit from this Warrior 60-piece set from Harbor Freight. You can also use a 13/64 drill bit, but number seven is the correct one if you’re doing this to spec.
When you’re drilling steel, use some tap or drilling fluid. Put a little in the little indent; you don’t need much, then start drilling. The key to drilling through metal is slow, steady pressure with good cutting fluid. If you have a drill press, you might be able to use it depending on the size, but I don’t have one.
Now that you have your holes drilled, it’s time to tap. Make sure you get all your swarf out. Keeping the holes clean makes a big difference when tapping. This is 1/4-20 for these screws, so put a little cutting fluid on the tap. This tap and die set is from Harbor Freight — it’s not the best, but it works. Try to keep the tap as straight as you can, though it doesn’t have to be perfect. Stop and back out every so often to clear swarf from the threads. Nothing ruins your day faster than breaking off a tap because you left too much junk in the hole.
I know it’s tedious and a little nerve-wracking if you have expensive wheels, but there’s something satisfying about drilling those holes and cutting threads by hand, especially if you don’t do machine work every day. You can feel the metal and know when it’s biting. Doing it yourself means you know exactly how deep those screws go and how much thread engagement you have. There’s no guessing or surprises when you bolt it up later.
One thing I love about these old screw-on Ford caps is how mechanical they are. Everything today just snaps together — plastic clips and press fits. It feels like there’s no real craftsmanship anymore. Back in the ’80s, Ford actually threaded these holes in the wheels for those little screws. They were totally overbuilt, and that’s what’s cool. You can tell they weren’t chasing assembly speed; they were building something meant to last. At least on the wheels. I wish I could say…
The same for the door panel clips. Those things bust off if you look at them sideways, but that’s part of the charm of working on old trucks like this. At least that’s what I tell myself. All right, all done. Now we can take them out and mount them inside the wheel. When I did my test fit, I noticed these screws stick out too far behind the rim and actually touch the rotor on my axle. I’m going to have to trim the screws. I’ll use a bench grinder to grind them down, then use my tap and die set to rethread them. I happen to have some wing nuts that are the right size for these screws. If I screw the wing nut on tight so it doesn’t move, the amount of screw sticking out the other end is almost exactly what I want to remove. I tighten the wing nut, grind the excess off, and the wing nut acts as a chaser, so when I pull the screw out it rethreads and goes right back in. Sometimes there’s a little burn on the end that I have to trim off, but once it cools down it should go right in. All trimmed up. I’m not a fan of these open lug nuts; I prefer the way regular black lug nuts look, so I’m going to put black lug nuts on the outside. The interior lug nuts will be torqued down and keep the wheel held on sufficiently, and then I’ll thread on the black nuts and tighten them lightly. That gives me the look I want and adds a bit of theft protection. There’s plenty of bite on these threads. To be clear about torque: the open-ended 45° basset nuts will be torqued to spec, about 100 ft-lb. Once the wheel is properly mounted, I’ll thread on the black nuts with a dab of blue Loctite and snug them to about 10 ft-lb. That’s enough to keep them from coming off by hand and adds a little theft protection, but it’s not enough to affect the main lug nuts that hold the wheel on. It’s safe and purely decorative. Screw them down, but not too tight—you don’t want to crack the plastic if it’s plastic. That’s what it’s going to look like. I think I’ll end up painting these wheels some kind of bronze or copper color. With the black lug nuts, that and maybe a fake bead-lock trim ring, I think they will look really nice. That’s how to install an OEM-style Ford truck center cap on an aftermarket wheel. Things to keep in mind: make sure the center cap is as centered as possible, use your spacers and your lug nuts, and get everything in place.
Here, mark your holes in the right spots. Make sure your screws are not too long, because if they are they will impact the rotor back there. Make sure you get the right length screws; if not, you can always trim them like I showed you. Use tap oil when you’re drilling and tapping to avoid binding things up or snapping bits. Also make sure your aftermarket wheel will support a mod like this depending on its material. These are aftermarket steelies, which are perfect for this kind of mod. Any kind of five-on-5 1/2-inch steelie should be able to support this. The wagon wheels will, and the old-school Ford rims will. Anything with that big center flat area should take care of it. If you’re doing this on aluminum rims, be a little more careful. I haven’t done this on aluminum rims, but I know it’s possible—follow the same steps, take your time, and be careful. If you have any questions, comments, concerns, or tips and tricks about doing this, let me know in the comments. As always, thank you so much for watching, and we’ll see you next time. She’s rough around the edges, but she’s doing fine. Take her away; getting things to shine at no garage, she’s considered divine.
There’s something undeniably right about those old Ford screw-on center caps from the ’80s and ’90s. Bullnose, Bricknose, OBS… they’re basically rolling ID badges. I’m using them on my current builds, but there’s a catch: modern aftermarket wheels don’t have the threaded holes those caps require.
So in this video, I show exactly how I drill and tap a set of Bassett racing wheels so the OEM-style screw-on caps mount dead center, stay put, and don’t rub on the rotor. It’s not hard, but it does reward patience and a few simple tricks.
Why These Ford Screw-On Caps Are Worth the Trouble
Ford’s old design is unapologetically mechanical. Actual threaded holes and screws holding a cap in place. Not a plastic clip in sight. It’s overbuilt in a good way and has that satisfying, purposeful feel you don’t get from modern snap-on trim. If only the door panel clips from that era were built the same way… but I digress.
The Fitment Problem With Aftermarket Wheels
Ford’s original steel wheels had the holes threaded in from the factory. Most aftermarket wheels don’t. My Bassett racing wheels are a perfect example: great wheel, no provision for screw-on caps. If you want that period-correct look, you have to add the holes yourself and the key is getting the cap centered perfectly so it doesn’t wobble or look crooked at speed.
Tools and Measurements I Used
Here’s the exact setup from the video, so you can match it:
Cap dimensions (from the video description): 7 inches total width, 30 mm (1.18 in) hole spacing, and a 3.5-inch center. Those numbers help when you’re shopping wheels or laying out hole locations.
Why Centering on the Vehicle Matters
You can eyeball a cap on the bench and it will look fine until the wheel spins and that “fine” turns into wobble. Wheels center on the truck differently than they do on a workbench, so I mount the wheel on the truck and use the vehicle’s lug pattern to position the cap exactly where it lives in the real world.
Prep the Wheel and Spacers
The Bassett wheels use 45° conical open-ended lugs. There’s enough play around the lug holes that the cap can still wiggle even when things look lined up. That’s where the rubber spacers come in. The plugs I used are roughly 1 inch wide with a 30 mm middle. I wrapped Gorilla tape around them until the outer diameter fit snug in the cap’s holes. The snug fit prevents the cap from shifting while you mark.
Mount and Snug the Wheel
Put the wheel on the truck and install three of the five lug nuts in alternating positions. Snug them (don’t fully torque yet) so the wheel is centered on the hub. If you’re dealing with hub-centric wheels, you’d center on the hub; for lug-centric setups like these steelies, the lug nuts do the centering.
Seat the Cap and Lock It In
Set the cap in place over the lugs. Insert those snug-fitting spacers into the cap holes to lock the cap where it naturally centers on the vehicle. This is the trick that removes the “eyeball” error.
Punch Accurate Marks
With everything held steady, use a solid punch to mark the hole locations through the cap. Aim for the center of each opening. You’re not drilling yet—just making accurate starter marks that correspond to the truck’s actual lug geometry.
Drilling and Tapping the Wheels
Now you can pull the wheel and head to the bench. The screws I’m using are 1/4-20, so I drill with a number 7 bit (13/64 will work, but number 7 is proper for tapping). A few keys to clean holes and long tap life:
Use cutting fluid—just a little in the punch mark is enough.
Drill with slow, steady pressure. Let the bit cut; don’t force it.
Clear chips (swarf) often so you don’t pack the flutes.
Once drilled, clean the holes thoroughly. Then tap 1/4-20 by hand with cutting oil. Keep the tap as straight as you reasonably can; it doesn’t need to be perfect. Back the tap out periodically to clear chips. If you’ve ever snapped a tap, you know why this step matters.
Test-Fit and Check Screw Length
After tapping, test-fit your cap and screws. On my setup, the supplied screws protruded far enough to contact the brake rotor… obviously a no-go. If your screws are too long, shorten them before final install.
Trim Screws the Easy Way
I use a bench grinder and a wing nut “chaser” trick. Thread a wing nut onto the screw to the exact length you want to keep, grind off the excess, then remove the wing nut to clean up the threads as it backs off. If there’s a little burn or mushrooming at the tip, let it cool and touch it up. You want clean threads and the right length so nothing interferes behind the wheel.
Lug Nut Setup and Torque Notes
I’m not a fan of the look of open-ended lug nuts on the outside, so here’s how I handle it while keeping things safe:
Torque the interior open-ended 45° Bassett lug nuts to spec: about 100 ft-lb in my case.
Then thread on black “outer” lug nuts as a visual set. A dab of blue Loctite and about 10 ft-lb is enough to keep them in place. They’re decorative and add a little theft deterrence. They don’t replace or alter the main lug nut clamping load.
For the cap screws themselves: seat them snug, but don’t go full gorilla… especially if your caps have any plastic. It’s very easy to crack a cap by chasing “just one more quarter turn.”
Material and Wheel Style Considerations
This process works great on steel wheels. My Bassett steelies took the tap cleanly, and the center area is flat and thick enough to hold threads. In general:
Five-on-5.5-inch steelies, “wagon wheels,” and old-school Ford rims with a flat center area are solid candidates.
Aluminum wheels can work too, but go slower, use proper cutting fluid, and be mindful of thread engagement. I haven’t done this on aluminum in the video, but the same steps apply, just be careful.
Why Do It On-Vehicle? The Real-World Geometry
The most important step in the whole process is marking on the vehicle. Wheels that look centered on a table can still be slightly off relative to the truck’s lug pattern. Bolting the wheel up and using snug spacers locks the cap to the real geometry of the hub and lugs. That’s how you avoid that one screw that’s tight, the opposite one crooked, and a cap that looks “just a hair off” once it’s rolling.
Quick Checklist
Center the cap on the truck using snug spacers and three lugs.
Punch marks with the cap held firmly in place.
Drill with a number 7 bit for 1/4-20 and use cutting fluid.
Tap slowly, clearing chips often; keep the tap as straight as you can.
Test-fit cap screws and verify they don’t protrude into the rotor.
Trim screw length using the wing nut chaser method if needed.
Torque your main lug nuts properly; treat any dress nuts as decorative.
Snug cap screws without over-tightening—avoid cracking plastic.
Common Pitfalls (and How to Avoid Them)
Off-center caps: Always mark on the vehicle with spacers; don’t trust a bench mock-up.
Stripped threads: Use the right drill size (number 7) and cutting fluid; don’t force the tap.
Rotor interference: Verify screw length before final install and trim as needed.
Wobble at speed: Make sure the wheel is centered on the hub during marking and that holes line up with the lug geometry.
Cracked caps: Tighten cap screws only until seated—stop before the “snap.”
Specs at a Glance
Cap width: 7 inches
Cap hole spacing: 30 mm (1.18 inches)
Cap center opening: 3.5 inches
Screws: 1/4-20 (use number 7 drill or 13/64)
Lug seats used here: 45° conical (open-ended Bassett lugs)
Old-School Design, Modern Wheels
There’s something satisfying about drilling and tapping a wheel for a proper mechanical fastener. You can feel the tool bite, clear the chips, and end up with threads you trust. Do it right, and those vintage Ford caps sit perfectly centered, tight, and true… even on wheels that were never designed for them. That’s the kind of overbuilt thinking Ford baked into these trucks back in the day. I just happen to be carrying it over to a set of Bassett steelies.
Final Thoughts
If you’re running aftermarket steelies and want that classic Ford screw-on look, this is the clean way to make it happen. Center on the vehicle, mark carefully, drill and tap properly, and check your screw length. Simple, mechanical, and reliable. Just how I like it.
Got Questions?
Drop your questions or tips in the comments. If you’ve done this on different wheels let me know how it went. And if you just came here for a little old-school Ford nostalgia, I won’t blame you.
Thanks for watching and reading. Check out the video above to see the whole process, start to finish.
If you want more specific information on Bullnose Ford Trucks, check out my YouTube Channel!
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you see an Amazon link on my site, purchasing the item from Amazon using that link helps out the Channel.
On a 1986 Ford F-150, the gauge cluster uses 194 bulbs for illumination. These are small wedge-base bulbs that are fairly easy to replace. Here’s a quick guide on swapping them out:
Steps to Replace Gauge Cluster Bulbs
Disconnect the Battery: Always disconnect the negative battery cable before working on your vehicle’s electrical system to avoid any shorts.
Remove the Dash Bezel:
Carefully remove any screws holding the bezel in place.
Gently pry the bezel off. Be cautious not to break any clips.
Access the Cluster:
Unscrew the gauge cluster. It’s usually held in by a few screws around the perimeter.
Gently pull the cluster towards you, but don’t yank it out. You’ll need to disconnect the wiring harnesses.
Replace the Bulbs:
Locate the bulb sockets on the back of the cluster. They twist in and out.
Remove the old 194 bulbs from their sockets.
Install the new bulbs.
Reassemble:
Reconnect the wiring harnesses.
Secure the cluster back into place with the screws.
Reattach the dash bezel and its screws.
Reconnect the Battery: Once everything is back in place, reconnect the negative battery cable.
Pro Tips
Check the Sockets: Make sure the bulb sockets are clean and free of corrosion. This ensures good electrical contact.
Test Before Reassembly: It’s a good idea to test the new bulbs before fully reassembling to ensure they light up.
Consider LED Upgrades: If you want brighter or different colored lighting, consider upgrading to LED bulbs. Just make sure they’re compatible with your truck.
If you run into any issues or need further guidance, there may be a related video on the Bullnose Garage YouTube channel — worth a look!
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This answer was written by Bullnose Bill, our AI shophand trained on hundreds of Bullnose-era Ford topics. He knows his way around old Ford Trucks.
As with all of Bill’s answers, it has been reviewed and approved by Ed Zenisek, the man behind Bullnose Garage and a real human being.
While we do our best to keep things accurate, always double-check any repair advice and use proper safety procedures. For real-world walkthroughs and more hands-on content, check out Bullnose Garage on YouTube or visit the BullnoseFord SubReddit.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you see an Amazon link on my site, purchasing the item from Amazon using that link helps out the Channel.
Alright, let’s dig into that cold start issue on your 1983 F350 with the 6.9 IDI. You’ve done a lot already, so let’s focus on a few areas that might still be causing trouble.
Glow Plug System
Glow Plugs: Make sure they’re all functioning. If even one is dead, it can cause hard starts. Test them with a multimeter: they should show low resistance. Replace any faulty ones with quality plugs like Motorcraft or Beru.
Glow Plug Relay: Check if the relay is clicking on and off as it should. If it’s not functioning, the plugs won’t heat properly.
Controller: The glow plug controller can sometimes be the culprit. Verify that it’s sending power to the glow plugs for the correct duration.
Fuel Delivery
Air Leaks: Double-check for any air leaks in the fuel lines, especially since you’ve replaced them. Air in the system can lead to starting issues.
Fuel Pump Pressure: Since you’ve switched to an electric fuel pump, confirm it’s delivering the correct pressure (around 4-6 PSI for the 6.9 IDI).
Engine Timing
Injection Timing: If the timing is off, it can lead to hard starts and excessive smoke. Ensure the injection pump is correctly timed. A slight advance or retardation can make a big difference.
Electrical System
Battery and Cables: Ensure the batteries are strong and the cables are clean and tight. The starter needs a good supply to crank effectively, especially in cold weather.
Other Tips
Block Heater: Using a block heater in colder weather can make a big difference. If you don’t have one, consider adding it.
Ether Use: Avoid using ether regularly, especially if your glow plugs are active—it can cause damage.
Final Thoughts
If you’ve covered all these and still face issues, there may be a deeper problem, like compression loss, which would require further inspection.
Remember, the Bullnose Ford subreddit (reddit.com/r/bullnoseford) is also a great place to connect with others who might have faced similar issues. Keep at it—you’re on the right track!
This conversation had no additional replies.
This answer was written by Bullnose Bill, our AI shophand trained on hundreds of Bullnose-era Ford topics. He knows his way around old Ford Trucks.
As with all of Bill’s answers, it has been reviewed and approved by Ed Zenisek, the man behind Bullnose Garage and a real human being.
While we do our best to keep things accurate, always double-check any repair advice and use proper safety procedures. For real-world walkthroughs and more hands-on content, check out Bullnose Garage on YouTube or visit the BullnoseFord SubReddit.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you see an Amazon link on my site, purchasing the item from Amazon using that link helps out the Channel.
Ferrari thought they had endurance racing locked down with six straight wins at Le Mans. The whole world was convinced nobody could touch them. Then along came Ford, ticked off, with deep pockets and willing to throw everything at the problem. They had Carroll Shelby in their corner, a brand new GT40, and under the hood, a 427 cubic inch sledgehammer that could change racing history. Spoiler alert, Ferrari didn’t like what happened next. Howdy folks, Ed here. Welcome back to Bono’s Garage. Now, if you’ve seen Ford v Ferrari, you know the Hollywood version of the story. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great movie, but the movie plays pretty fast and loose with the facts. And while the truth is way more interesting, I’m not here today to debate about Henry the Deuce’s motivations or Ken Miles getting cheated out of first place. We’re here about the 427 that got into the line and gave Ford the photo op they wanted in 1966. Because the Ford 427 wasn’t just some one-off race motor. It was the peak of the FE family, the same big block line that powered Ford trucks for years before being replaced by the 429 and 460 that carried into the bullnose era. In other words, that Le Mans-winning motor didn’t just beat Ferrari, it laid the groundwork for Ford’s big block future. Let’s back up a little. Before the 427, before the GT40, and before the drama in France, Ford had to build the FE family. The FE wasn’t some accident of racing. It was born as Ford’s first true big block family back in 1958. FE literally stands for Ford Edsel. Yeah, I know the Edsel name is usually the punchline of a bad joke, but in this case, the engine family outlived the car by decades and became one of Ford’s most important platforms. The FE was designed to fill the gap between the small Y-block V8s like the 292 and 312 and the heavy-duty Lincoln and Mercury big blocks that were too bulky for most applications. Ford wanted one engine architecture that could scale. Put it in a Thunderbird or a Galaxy and make it fast, or stick it in an F-series truck and make it pull. That meant a middleweight big block that was compact but still capable of serious displacement. From a technical standpoint, the FE had a 4.63-inch bore spacing which set the ceiling on displacement. That’s why you’ll see FEs topping out in the 428 to 430 range, while the later 385 series 429 and 460 used a wider 4.9-inch bore spacing and had more room to grow. Deck height was set at just over 10.17 inches. Cast iron blocks were the norm, and the deep skirt design gave them strength for both racing and trucks. It didn’t come cheap though. The 429 clocked in over 600 pounds or more fully dressed. Some engineers joked it was like lifting an anvil with spark plugs. Unlike most engines where the heads are self-contained and the intake just sits on top, the FE’s intake is part of the head structure itself. That made the manifolds huge and heavy, often 70 pounds or more. And swapping one isn’t just a Saturday afternoon job, but that massive structure gave the top end a lot of rigidity, which was a blessing once Ford started pushing the FE into racing. Over its lifespan, the FE family covered everything from 322 cubic inches up to 428. The 352 was the first out of the gate, offered in cars and trucks in ’58. By the early ’60s, the 360 and 390 had become the bread and butter truck engines. Torquey, reliable, and built to take abuse. These were the motors farmers, contractors, and good old boys trusted for years before the bullnose era. And that’s the point I want to drive home here. The FE wasn’t just a race motor. It was Ford’s Swiss Army knife. Same external block, same basic design, but it could be tuned to idle smooth in a pickup, or it could be bored and stroked to scream on a NASCAR track. The 427 we’re going to focus on was the extreme end of that spectrum, the wild child of a family that also powered America’s work trucks. So, why did Ford decide to build the 427? Simple. They wanted to win. In the early ’60s, Ford was getting embarrassed in NASCAR. Their 390, even the 406, weren’t bad engines, but ‘not bad’ doesn’t win a Daytona or Le Mans. NASCAR’s 427 cubic inch limit was staring them in the face. Chrysler was swinging with the 426 Hemi, and Ford needed an answer. That answer was the 427. Same FE family bones, but bored and stroked right to the edge. A 4.23-inch bore and 3.78-inch stroke. That combination made a high-winding 427 cubic inch big block that could hang with anything on displacement. But Ford knew size alone wasn’t going to be enough. So here’s the problem. The FE was born as a passenger car and truck motor. It used what’s called a top oiler system. Oil flows from the pump, feeds the cam and valve train first, and then makes its way down to the crankshaft. And that’s fine for hauling hay bales at 3,000 RPM, but not for running 6,500 to 7,000 RPM wide open for hours. The crank was starving for oil when it needed it most, and bearings don’t last long when they go dry at speed. So, Ford did something radical. They created the side oiler block. This design ran a dedicated galley along the side of the block that fed the crankshaft first before anything else. The valve train could wait a fraction of a second because if the crank didn’t live, nothing else mattered. It turned the FE into a reliable racing engine, one that could survive the abuse of NASCAR and the 24 Hours of Le Mans. And if you know what you’re looking at, side oiler blocks are easy to spot. That external oil passage is cast right into the block. Collectors today will pay a fortune for a real one because they’re rare. And they solved that one weak spot that kept the FE from being a world-class race motor. Now, here’s where some folks scratch their heads. If the side oiler was so good, why didn’t Ford keep doing it? Well, the answer is that the side oiler was a workaround, not the future. It was a clever fix for an FE that was being pushed way beyond what it was originally designed to do. Later engines like the 429 or 460 Lima big blocks and even Windsor small blocks…
went back to that top oiler layout, but they had stronger main webs, bigger journals, and better oiling capacity right from the start. They didn’t need the side gallery for everyday cars and trucks. A side oiler would have just added cost, weight, and complexity, and it wouldn’t have really given any benefit. So, the side oiler was a one-generation trick, a race-bred fix that kept the FE alive at the top level. But it wasn’t how Ford designed engines going forward. Think of it like a pit stop on the way to Ford’s later Big Block. It’s not the destination. But, you know, call it what you want. Trick, hack, genius engineering. Bottom line is it definitely worked. Once the 429 side oiler hit the scene, Ford wasted no time throwing it into the fight. In NASCAR, it was an instant game changer. The big bore and short stroke gave it the breathing room for high RPM. And with that side oiler system keeping the crank alive, it could run flat out all day. Ford team suddenly had the durability to hang with and beat Chrysler and GM. For a while, the 427 was the engine to have in stock car racing. And Ford didn’t stop there. They got creative. Maybe too creative. In 1964, they unveiled the 427 single overhead cammer. This was still an FE block at heart, but with wild single overhead cam cylinder heads, timing chains so long they looked like something off of a bicycle and the ability to spin to the moon. It was basically Ford’s answer to Chrysler’s 426 Hemi. NASCAR took one look and said, ‘Nope, that’s too radical,’ and banned it before they could dominate. But on the drag strip, the cammer became a legend, especially in Top Fuel and funny cars. Guys like Connie Kalitta and Don Prudhomme used it to terrorize quarter miles across the country. On paper, Ford rated it as 616 horsepower in stock trim. The NHRA, in their infinite wisdom, called it 425 for classification, which was a joke. Everybody was in on it. In reality, tuners were pulling 700 horsepower or more, which is why those engines were absolute terrors in Top Fuel and funny cars. Chrysler had the Hemi, but Ford’s cammer was the one scaring track officials. Of course, the 427’s most famous stage was across the Atlantic. Early GT40s with smaller engines had been fast but fragile. Ferrari ran circles around them. That changed when Carroll Shelby got involved. Shelby had already made the Cobra a world-beater by stuffing an FE into a lightweight British roadster. So when Ford handed him the GT40 program, he knew what it needed, the 427 side oiler. And here’s where Ken Miles comes in. Now Ken wasn’t just a driver. He was Ford’s secret weapon in testing. Miles would literally run engines until they grenaded just to give Ford engineers the data they needed to make them tougher. If the 427 side oiler held together at Le Mans, it’s because Ken Miles had already blown a dozen of them to pieces back in testing. He broke them so customers or racers didn’t have to. With a big block FE sitting midship in the GT40 Mark II, everything clicked. In 1966, Ford stomped Ferrari at Le Mans with a historic 1-2-3 finish. That was the year of the famous photo finish where Ken Miles was robbed of the win for technical reasons. But the real story is that all three cars were Fords and all three were powered by the 427 FE. It wasn’t a fluke. The GT40 kept winning four years in a row from ’66 to ’69, cementing Ford’s place in endurance racing history. And here’s a detail the movie didn’t really emphasize. Those 427-powered GT40s were breaking 200 mph on the Mulsanne Straight in 1966. That’s not just fast, man. That’s light years ahead of what most race cars, let alone road cars, could do at the time. Ferrari had nothing that could match that kind of straight-line speed, and everyone knew it. That’s why the win wasn’t just symbolic. Ford didn’t just beat Ferrari, they flat out outran them. And for gearheads and car buffs back in the States, those GT40s weren’t running exotic one-off race engines. They were running versions of the same side oiler blocks you could, in theory, buy in a Galaxy if you knew the right box to check on the order form. They were handbuilt, blueprinted, and tuned to the ragged edge, but at their core, they were still Fords. That’s part of why the story is so cool. Ford didn’t just build a race motor from scratch. They weaponized a production block to take on Ferrari’s best and absolutely stomped them with it. So, when people talk about Chrysler’s 426 Hemi as the ultimate ’60s big block, Ford fans have a pretty strong rebuttal. The 426 may have owned the drag strip, but the 427 FE is the engine that took down Ferrari on the world’s biggest stage. Okay, so why does all of this matter if you’re standing in front of an ’80s bullnose Ford? I mean, after all, no bullnose ever came with a 427 side oiler. And if we’re being precise, you couldn’t even get a 460 in an F150 during the bullnose years. The biggest gas engine in those trucks was the 351 Windsor. When a 460 had to step up to an F250 or F350, because that’s where Ford put the heavy hitter big blocks. Here’s the connection. The 427 proved something inside Ford as a company, that they could build world-class engines and, more importantly, that they had to. Before the FE, Ford was seen as solid but conservative. Good for trucks and family cars, but not global racing glory. The 427’s success changed that. It gave Ford the confidence to throw money and engineering muscle into performance, and the lessons they learned fed directly into the next generation of big blocks. Think about it this way. The FE had a 4.63 bore spacing. That’s why it maxed out around 428 cubes. When Ford sat down to design the 385 series, that’s the 429 and 460, they fixed that. They widened the bore spacing to 4.9 inches, gave the block more breathing room, and built in oiling improvements from the ground up. They took what the 427 side oiler taught them, that endurance requires durability at the crank, and baked it into a whole new engine family.
Bullnose trucks. Now, the F-150 may not have gotten the 460, but plenty of F-250s and 350s did. Those engines weren’t just big for the sake of being big. They carried the same philosophy that the 427 proved on the racetrack: build it big, build it tough, and make sure it can survive under serious abuse. There’s a cultural side, too. Beating Ferrari wasn’t just a trophy for Ford; it changed how the world looked at them. Suddenly, Ford wasn’t just the company that built Grandma’s Galaxy or your dad’s farm truck. They were the company that could stand toe-to-toe with the Italians and win. That swagger carried into the muscle car era, into the Cobra Jet programs, into the Boss 429, and eventually into the trucks of the ’70s and ’80s. The Bullnose generation wasn’t designed to win alone, but it inherited the same DNA of toughness and confidence that Ford had proved with the 427. So, because this is Bullnose Garage, here’s a fun question: Would you ever stick a 427 side oiler into a bullnose? On paper, yeah, it’s possible. The engine bay in those trucks is plenty big. Mounts and adapters exist, and with enough determination and cash, anything’s possible. Let’s be real for a second. First, cost. A genuine 427 side block today is like striking oil in your backyard. Collectors, racers, and restorers all want them, and the prices are sky-high. By the time you source a real block, heads, intake, and all the hardware, you’ll have more money tied up in the motor than the entire truck is worth, even if it’s a nice one. Second, practicality. The FE family is heavy. That massive intake alone feels like it was cast out of battleship armor. By comparison, the 460 is cheaper, easier to find, and will make just as much or more torque for a fraction of the investment. A Windsor build or even a stroked 408 Windsor will give you more performance per dollar, and the parts are on every parts store shelf. Let’s not kid ourselves. If you did swap a 427 into a bullnose, you’d have bragging rights for life. That’s the kind of thing you pop the hood at a show and people stop mid-sentence. Most folks expect to see a 460 or a Windsor. Nobody expects to see the same engine that won Le Mans four years straight sitting in an ’80s Ford pickup. That’s pure ‘why the hell not’ territory. And sometimes, in this hobby, that’s reason enough. So, if you do, let me know because I want to talk to you. But would I recommend it? No. Not unless you’ve got a winning lottery ticket or a dusty old 427 sitting in your uncle’s barn. And even then, probably not. Here’s why. Ford only built around 40,000 427 blocks in total across all the versions. Compare that to the hundreds of thousands of 390s or 428s, and you see the problem. Genuine 427 sides are rare, and collectors will pay a fortune. Dropping one in a bullnose would be like using a Shelby Daytona coupe to haul firewood. Yeah, you could do it, but most people would call you insane. Would I respect it? You better believe it. Because a bullnose with a 427 under the hood isn’t about logic. It’s about making a statement. And that statement is, ‘Yeah, I put a Le Mans engine in my farm truck. What are you going to do?’ The Ford 427 wasn’t built to be practical. It wasn’t built to idle smooth, sip gas, or make it through a 100,000-mile warranty. It was built for one reason: to win. To take the fight to Chrysler at Daytona and to Ferrari at Le Mans, to prove that Ford could play at the very top of the motorsports world. And it did. Four straight Le Mans victories, NASCAR dominance, drag racing legends. The 427 earned its place in history the hard way at wide-open throttle. For us truck guys, it’s easy to look at the 427 and say, ‘Yeah, cool story, bro. What does that have to do with my bullnose?’ The answer is everything. The 427 forced Ford to innovate. It proved the value of durability, taught them how to build engines that could take punishment, and gave the company the swagger to go all in on big displacement. Without the 427’s success, there’s no 460. Without the 460, bullnose trucks don’t get the kind of big block grunt that made them kings of towing and hauling. So, no, your ’80s F-150 or F-250 never came with a 427, but every single time you fire up a bullnose, you’re hearing echoes of what Ford learned in the ’60s. That Le Mans-winning motor didn’t just beat Ferrari. It helped shape Ford’s big block legacy that carried all the way into trucks that we love today. And the F-series itself, that’s a whole story of its own. The 352, the 360, the 390, engines that earned their reputation in F-series trucks long before the bullnose. And you know what? We’ll dig into that in a future video. But for now, just remember the Ford 427 side oiler wasn’t just an engine. It was a statement. And it’s a statement that still echoes through every single Ford sitting in a driveway today. And that’s it, guys. That’s everything that I know or pretend to know about the legendary 427 side oiler from Ford. Any questions, comments, concerns, gripes, internet ramblings, if I got something wrong, let me know in the comments below. I really appreciate that. Again, guys, thank you so much for watching and we will see you next time.
The Ford 427 Side Oiler: Racing’s Big Block Legend
Introduction: The Day Ford Declared War on Ferrari
When Ford got mad at Ferrari, they built a car that made history.
he Ford 427 Side Oiler was the engine that took Ford from Detroit to victory at Le Mans… a race-bred big block built to beat Ferrari.
Ferrari thought they had endurance racing locked down. Six straight wins at Le Mans. A reputation that screamed perfection. Everyone figured nobody could touch them. Then along came Ford… ticked off, flush with cash, and determined to humiliate the prancing horse on its own turf.
They brought Carroll Shelby to the party, built a car called the GT40, and stuffed it with an American V8 so mean it would change racing history forever. That engine was the 427 cubic-inch FE Side Oiler, and it didn’t just beat Ferrari – it stomped them flat.
Now, Hollywood told that story in Ford v Ferrari, and sure, it’s a good flick. But the truth is even better and a lot more mechanical. The 427 wasn’t just a race motor pulled out of some secret lab; it was the peak evolution of Ford’s FE engine family, the same basic big-block line that powered F-Series trucks for years. Long before the Bullnose era ever rolled off the line, the 427 had already proven Ford could build a world-class engine out of production parts.
That’s what made it dangerous. That’s what made it legendary.
And today, we’re tearing it apart, not with a wrench (though I’d love to), but with a deep dive into how this monster came to be, how it worked, and how it shaped the future of Ford’s big blocks.
Birth of the FE: The Foundation of Ford’s Big Block Era
Before the 427 came the FE — heavy, stubborn, and tough as an anvil.
Before the 427, before the GT40, and long before Le Mans glory, there was the FE: Ford’s first true big-block family. Introduced in 1958, the FE stood for Ford-Edsel, which sounds like a punchline if you only know Edsel as Ford’s biggest flop. But the FE outlived the car by decades and became one of the most important engine families Ford ever built.
Ford had a problem in the late ’50s: the old Y-block V8s were running out of headroom. They were fine for the smaller passenger cars and light-duty trucks, but Ford needed something that could scale… an engine that could handle both power and payload. The Lincoln and Mercury big-blocks were too heavy and expensive, so the engineers in Dearborn got to work on a new design that could do both jobs: go fast in a Thunderbird or pull a trailer in an F-Series.
The Engineering Vision
The FE was a masterpiece of compromise. It was big enough to move heavy cars and trucks, yet compact enough to fit under a standard hood. The block featured 4.63-inch bore spacing, which set a natural limit on displacement (that’s why you’ll never see an FE go much past 430 cubic inches). Later engines like the 429 and 460 used 4.90-inch spacing, giving them room to grow, but the FE’s tighter layout made it a stout, dense package.
Deck height was just over 10.17 inches, giving plenty of room for stroke without making the block excessively tall. Cast iron was the material of choice, not aluminum, which meant these things were heavy. They could be north of 600 pounds fully dressed. Engineers joked that lifting one was like bench-pressing an anvil with spark plugs.
The Deep-Skirt Block
One of the FE’s defining features was its deep-skirt block design. Unlike earlier engines that left the crankcase skirt short, the FE’s block extended well below the crank centerline, creating a solid cradle for the rotating assembly. This made it incredibly rigid, a trait that would later become crucial when Ford started chasing high-RPM endurance reliability.
The design had its quirks, though. For example, the intake manifold wasn’t just a cap sitting on the heads. On the FE, the manifold actually formed part of the cylinder head structure. That made for excellent rigidity and consistent sealing under load, but it also meant the intake was massive, sometimes tipping the scales at 70 pounds or more. Swapping one wasn’t a Saturday afternoon job unless you liked hernias.
Displacement and Applications
The FE family was flexible, covering everything from 332 cubic inches up to 428. The first version to hit the streets was the 352, launched in ’58. It quickly proved itself in both cars and trucks, leading to larger variants like the 360 and 390… engines that became staples of Ford pickups throughout the ’60s and early ’70s.
Those engines earned a reputation for torque and toughness. You could lug them all day on the farm, run them hard in a work truck, or drop one into a Galaxie and surprise the guy next to you at a stoplight. That’s the beauty of the FE design. It has same external block, but with different internals comes a completely different personality.
A Family Built to Adapt
Where the FE earned its reputation: hauling, not racing.
The FE’s secret weapon was adaptability. It could idle smooth in a pickup or scream at 7,000 RPM in a NASCAR stocker. It was the Swiss Army knife of big blocks, and Ford took full advantage of that.
By the early ’60s, engineers started pushing it to its absolute limits. That’s when they discovered something crucial and the FE’s endurance Achilles heel.. the FE’s original oiling system wasn’t up to the job. The top-oiler layout fed the cam and valvetrain first, leaving the crankshaft last in line for lubrication. Fine for trucks. Not so fine for racing.
That flaw set the stage for the creation of one of the most famous racing engines of all time: the 427 Side Oiler.
Why Ford Built the 427
The 427 Side Oiler — Ford’s iron-fisted answer to Ferrari.
By the early 1960s, Ford had a problem. They were getting beat on the track, and badly. Ford was tired of losing. NASCAR and endurance racing had become more than just marketing. They were a battleground for engineering bragging rights. Chrysler had the 426 Hemi, GM had their own high-winding monsters, and Ford’s best effort, the 406 FE, was fast – but not fast enough. NASCAR had capped displacement at 427 cubic inches, which gave Ford a target. If they wanted to win, they had to hit that number and hit it hard.
The result was the 427 FE, an engine designed to dominate and survive at full throttle longer than anyone else. It used the same FE architecture, but everything about it was reworked for racing. Bore was punched out to 4.23 inches, stroke was set at 3.78, and the block was strengthened everywhere Ford could get away with it. Ford engineers had learned through painful experience that you couldn’t just bore and stroke your way to victory. High-RPM endurance killed engines through flex, heat, and oil starvation, so they went after all three. This wasn’t a warmed-over 390 anymore. It was a hand-built brute made to live at full throttle.
Strengthening the Block
The first step was casting integrity. Ford revised the FE block molds specifically for the 427, thickening the main webs, cylinder walls, and the oil pan rails. The engineers even modified the foundry’s core supports to reduce core shift during casting, which is something that had plagued earlier FE blocks and made cylinder wall thickness inconsistent. That kind of attention to detail was rare in production iron at the time.
The result was a high-nickel-content casting that could handle abuse far beyond what Ford’s standard passenger-car engines ever saw. Nickel made the iron harder and less prone to cracking under load, but it also made the blocks more expensive. Ford didn’t care. Racing budgets were generous, and this was war.
Next came reinforcement at the bottom end. The 427’s crankcase was a deep-skirt design like other FEs, but Ford took it further by adding cross-bolted main caps. Instead of the usual two vertical bolts per main, they added a pair of horizontal bolts that ran through the skirt of the block into each main cap, effectively tying the crankshaft to the block from both directions. It acted like a cradle that stopped cap walk… the tendency of the main caps to shift under load at high RPM.
To make this work, each cap had to be machined with precision flats and drilled passages for those side bolts. That added machine time and cost, but it created a bottom end that stayed tight and square at 7,000 RPM. Ford even extended the pan rails downward and added cast ribs between the bolt bosses to keep the block from twisting under load.
The Rotating Assembly
Inside, the crankshaft was a beast of its own. Ford used forged steel instead of the nodular iron found in lesser FE engines. It featured rolled fillets for stress relief and, in some racing versions, cross-drilled oil passages to improve flow between journals. These weren’t mass-produced cast cranks — they were hand-inspected and balanced for competition.
Connecting rods were shot-peened forged steel with 3/8-inch rod bolts, and the pistons were forged aluminum with full floating pins. Compression ratios ranged from around 10.5:1 on street versions to well over 12:1 in race trim. Combined with the short 3.78-inch stroke, the 427 was a rev-happy big block that could spin faster than most of its contemporaries without grenading.
Cylinder Walls and Cooling
Ford didn’t stop at the bottom end. They also beefed up the cylinder walls, which was critical for longevity. Earlier FE blocks could suffer from core shift that left thin walls on one side of a bore, leading to hot spots and eventual cracking. The 427 addressed this with revised core geometry and a thicker casting between cylinders.
The 427’s cooling passages were also reshaped to flow more evenly around the bores, especially in the upper water jacket. That helped even out thermal expansion, which in turn kept head gaskets intact under brutal conditions. The decks were machined flatter and truer than any production FE before them, which meant the heads sealed better and the engine could survive hours of sustained high heat.
Heads, Valves, and Flow
Although most of the 427’s legend lives in the block, the heads got attention too. Ford offered medium-rise and high-rise cylinder heads, each with larger ports and better flow characteristics than earlier FE designs. The high-rise heads used raised intake runners that improved airflow at high RPM, feeding the 427’s appetite for top-end power. Some later race engines even used tunnel-port heads with pushrods running through the intake ports — a bizarre but effective way to keep airflow high at extreme speeds.
To top it off, Ford developed lightweight cast-aluminum intakes for racing and even dual-quad setups that turned the engine bay into something that looked more at home on a drag strip than in a dealership lot.
All of these changes added up to a block that was as close to bulletproof as Ford could make it in the mid-’60s. Engineers used to joke that the 427 could take abuse that would scatter most other big blocks, and they weren’t far off.
Even so, the engineers knew there was one area that still wasn’t perfect: oiling. The FE’s top-oiler system was holding the whole thing back. The next step would be the innovation that truly separated the 427 from its predecessors: the side-oiler block.
The Oiling Problem
The FE had started life as a car and truck engine, not a race motor. Its top-oiler design fed oil to the camshaft and valvetrain first, with the crankshaft coming last. That was fine for your uncle’s pickup or your grandma’s Galaxie. At 3,000 RPM, it lived forever. At 7,000 RPM for hours on end, the crank bearings would start to go dry. When that happened, rods welded themselves to journals, and the engine went from thunder to shrapnel in a heartbeat.
Ford’s engineers couldn’t let that stand. They needed a fix that would feed the crank first every time, no matter how hard it was revved.
Enter the Side-Oiler
Ford’s side-oiler fix — oil the crank first, worry about the rest later.
The side-oiler block was Ford’s answer. Instead of sending oil up through the center of the block and letting gravity do the rest, they created a dedicated oil gallery running down the side of the block. Oil came straight out of the pump and went directly into that gallery, which fed the main bearings first. Only after the crank had what it needed did oil get routed upward to the camshaft and valvetrain.
That simple change solved the FE’s biggest weakness. The crank, the heart of the engine, always had pressure, even under brutal loads. It turned the FE from a strong street motor into a legitimate endurance engine that could run flat-out for hours.
If you’ve ever seen a real side-oiler block, the difference is obvious. There’s a long horizontal bulge cast into the side of the block that houses the oil passage. It’s the giveaway collectors look for today, and it’s the reason those blocks are so valuable. They weren’t made in huge numbers, and the ones that survived decades of racing are prized like rare gold.
Why It Worked
What made the side-oiler design so effective wasn’t just the oil path. It was the whole system. Ford engineers balanced the galleries so that pressure stayed consistent from front to back. Each main bearing got its own direct feed instead of sharing a single passage. That meant less pressure drop, less heat, and much better bearing life at high RPM.
They also used cross-bolted main caps, which tied the bottom of the block together like a race cage for the crank. Each main cap was bolted vertically as usual, but also held in place with horizontal bolts running through the skirt of the block. That extra support kept the crank from flexing under stress, and when you’re spinning steel that fast, a few thousandths of movement can mean the difference between finishing a race and scattering parts down the back straight.
The combination of the side-oiler gallery and the cross-bolted mains gave the 427 incredible durability for its time. Engines that used to fail halfway through an event were suddenly living to see the checkered flag. In endurance racing, that was everything.
A Clever Workaround, Not the Future
It’s worth remembering that the side-oiler was a brilliant solution, but it was still a workaround. Ford was pushing the FE architecture past what it was designed for. Later engines like the 429 and 460 big blocks, and even the smaller Windsor family, went back to more conventional oiling paths, but with stronger main webs, larger journals, and better casting design from the start. They didn’t need a side gallery to survive because the whole block was built for it.
For racing, though, the side-oiler was magic. It was Ford’s way of saying, “We’ll fix it with engineering,” and it worked. The 427 side-oiler didn’t just solve a problem; it made Ford competitive again. From NASCAR ovals to the Mulsanne Straight at Le Mans, it gave Ford the endurance they’d been missing.
And if you want proof that it worked, all you have to do is look at the trophies.
The Racing Legacy of the 427 Side Oiler
1966 — the year Ford dropped the mic at Le Mans.
Once Ford had the 427 Side Oiler dialed in, they didn’t waste any time turning it loose. NASCAR was the first proving ground. The short stroke, big bore, and bulletproof bottom end gave Ford the perfect combination for high RPM power and endurance. It could breathe deep, rev hard, and stay together under punishment that would turn most engines into scrap metal.
At a time when a 6,500 RPM redline was considered “aggressive,” the 427 was comfortably running past 7,000. Oil pressure stayed steady, bearings lived longer, and the engines came back from races still in one piece which, in motorsport, is the only statistic that really matters.
NASCAR Dominance
Ford teams quickly figured out that the 427 wasn’t just powerful, it was consistent. In NASCAR, consistency wins championships. The side-oiler setup meant the crankshaft got oil pressure first, and that allowed teams to run harder and leaner without worrying about oiling failures.
The 427-powered Galaxies and Fairlanes started showing up everywhere. Drivers like Fred Lorenzen, nicknamed “Fearless Freddy,” made Ford a serious threat. In the early to mid-1960s, he was running speeds that other teams simply couldn’t maintain without engine failures. That reliability came from the 427’s design. Those cross-bolted mains and the crank-fed oiling system did exactly what they were meant to do.
Other manufacturers were scrambling to keep up. The Chrysler Hemi had power, no doubt, but the 427 FE was a freight train that could keep pulling lap after lap. It didn’t care about being delicate. It was built for violence. It was just strong, simple American iron engineered to live.
The Cammer: Ford’s Wild Experiment
The 427 Cammer — too wild for NASCAR, too good for everyone else.
Then Ford got ambitious… maybe too ambitious. In 1964, they unveiled a version of the 427 that made the racing world stop in its tracks: the 427 SOHC, better known as the Cammer.
The block underneath was still an FE, but the top end was completely new. Instead of the pushrod setup, Ford gave it single overhead cams on each bank, driven by a timing chain so long it could’ve come off a bicycle. The cammer heads breathed like crazy, with massive valves and hemispherical-style combustion chambers that looked suspiciously similar to what Chrysler was doing with their 426 Hemi.
The intent was simple: dominate NASCAR. The Cammer made a conservative 616 horsepower in “factory trim,” though that number was more for politics than truth. Tuned race versions easily pushed 700 horsepower or more. It was an absolute monster.
NASCAR, of course, took one look and banned it before it could ever dominate. The official excuse was that it wasn’t “production-based” enough. The real reason? It scared them. Nobody else had anything that could touch it.
Even though NASCAR shut the door, the Cammer found a second life on the drag strip. In Top Fuel and Funny Car, it became the engine that nobody wanted to line up against. Drivers like Connie Kalitta and Don “The Snake” Prudhomme made names for themselves running Cammers. You’d hear that shrieking, chain-driven top end echo through the pits, and everyone knew it was about to get serious.
In the quarter mile, Chrysler had the Hemi, but Ford’s Cammer was the one making tech inspectors sweat.
Le Mans: Beating Ferrari at Their Own Game
If NASCAR proved the 427’s durability, Le Mans cemented its legend.
When Ford first sent the GT40 overseas, it didn’t go well. The early 289-cubic-inch cars were fast but fragile. They couldn’t hold together long enough to challenge Ferrari’s dominance in endurance racing. That’s when Carroll Shelby stepped in. Shelby was the same guy who had already turned the British AC Cobra into a snake with an FE under the hood. Shelby knew exactly what the GT40 needed: the 427 Side Oiler.
The new GT40 Mk II was a different animal entirely. The 427 sat midship, low and angry, mated to a beefed-up transaxle to handle its torque. It was heavier, yes, but it was also unstoppable. Ford tested the hell out of it, often under the guidance of Ken Miles, the engineer-driver who pushed these engines to their limits.
Miles didn’t just drive; he broke things on purpose. He’d run engines at full load until they failed, then hand the remains to the engineers with notes on what went wrong. If the 427 survived Le Mans, it was because Ken Miles had already found every weak link during testing.
The Ultimate Show of Force
The calm before 24 hours of mechanical mayhem.
In 1966, Ford brought the hammer down. The GT40s finished 1-2-3, humiliating Ferrari in front of the world. It wasn’t a fluke, either. Ford came back and won four straight Le Mans victories from 1966 to 1969, and in 66 and 67 every one of those cars was powered by the FE family — the same 427 Side Oiler that started life as a production-based block you could, theoretically, buy in a Galaxie.
That’s what made it so impressive. Ferrari’s engines were delicate, hand-built art pieces. The 427 was a brute. It didn’t whisper; it shouted. It didn’t glide; it muscled its way down the Mulsanne Straight at over 200 miles per hour… in 1966. That’s mind-blowing performance for an iron-block V8 from Detroit.
And here’s the real kicker: those GT40 engines weren’t exotic prototypes. They were built from the same basic architecture as the 427 you could find on a Ford dealer’s option sheet if you knew which salesman to ask. They were blueprinted, balanced, and tuned to perfection, but at their core, they were FEs. Production blocks, racing glory.
The Ultimate Proof of Concept
What Ford proved with the 427 Side Oiler was that durability wins races. Power gets headlines, but reliability wins trophies. That philosophy carried through everything Ford built afterward. The 427 taught Ford engineers how to make big displacement engines live under stress. Lessons that filtered down into the 429 and 460 big blocks that powered the heavy-duty trucks of the ’70s and ’80s.
Every time one of those GT40s roared down the straight at Le Mans, it wasn’t just about beating Ferrari. It was about proving that American iron could take the best the world had to offer and come out on top. The 427 Side Oiler didn’t just win races; it changed Ford’s entire approach to engine building.
Why It Matters
If you’re standing in front of an ’80s Bullnose Ford, it’s easy to think the 427 Side Oiler doesn’t have much to do with your truck. After all, no F-Series ever rolled off the line with one under the hood, and even 460 big block only went in the F-250s and 350s of the time. But that’s the thing… the 460 exists because of the 427.
The 427 didn’t just win races. It changed Ford’s entire approach to building engines. It taught them where the weak points were, what it took to make an iron block survive high loads, and how to design oiling systems that wouldn’t give up when the pressure was on, literally.
The Engineering Legacy
The 460 — Ford’s last big-block bruiser built for torque, not talk.
When Ford engineers started designing the 385-series big blocks that replaced the FE family in 1968, they brought every hard-earned lesson from the 427 with them.
The FE had a 4.63-inch bore spacing, which was fine for 390s and 428s, but it limited how far you could push displacement. The new 385-series used a wider 4.90-inch bore spacing, giving more room for thicker cylinder walls and larger bores without sacrificing cooling. That’s how Ford got engines like the 429 and 460, which shared much of the 427’s philosophy but were easier to cast, easier to maintain, and even tougher.
They also took what they learned from the 427’s oiling system. The 385-series engines went back to a top-fed layout, but they strengthened the main webs, widened the oil passages, and improved pump volume to prevent starvation under load. The oiling “problem” that started this whole revolution was permanently solved in the next generation.
The deep-skirt block design carried over, giving the 429 and 460 that same rock-solid bottom end feel. Even though they didn’t use cross-bolted mains, the webbing was thick enough that the crank sat in a structure just as strong. The result was a big block that could take anything you threw at it… hauling, towing, or screaming down a drag strip.
And while the 427’s racing program was all about pushing the limits, the 385-series engines were about applying those lessons to real-world performance. You could run them hard in a truck, day after day, and they just wouldn’t die.
From Le Mans to the Work Truck
There’s a direct line between the GT40s that tore up Le Mans and the Bullnose Fords that pulled horse trailers and campers two decades later. It sounds like a stretch until you look at what really mattered: durability under stress.
The 427 proved that you could make a high-compression, high-output V8 live at full throttle for 24 hours. Once Ford had that formula, applying it to trucks was easy. Sure, the 460 wasn’t spinning 7,000 RPM, but it still had to handle heavy loads, steep grades, and long hauls in hot weather. That’s the same kind of stress that kills engines when oiling or cooling is marginal.
That’s why those big-block Fords earned their reputation for reliability. They came from an era when Ford had something to prove and wasn’t afraid to overbuild. The 427’s success gave Ford confidence, and the budget, to keep that mindset alive.
When you fire up a Bullnose with a 460 under the hood, you’re hearing the same design philosophy that took Ford to the top of the racing world: build it tough, feed it well, and let it breathe.
A Cultural Shift Inside Ford
Where Detroit iron met American stubbornness.
Before the 427, Ford was seen as dependable but conservative. They were the company that built your dad’s work truck and your grandma’s grocery-getter. After the 427? Whole different story.
Winning Le Mans changed the brand’s identity overnight. Ford became a performance company. That victory opened the door for the Cobra Jet, the Boss 429, and even the Thunder Jet engines that filled muscle cars through the late ’60s and early ’70s. The 427’s DNA ran through all of them.
That same culture of durability and pride carried into the trucks of the late ’70s and ’80s. The Bullnose generation wasn’t designed to win races, but it was built with that same Ford attitude. Solid, practical, a little overbuilt, and proud of it. When you look at the engineering on those trucks, from the frames to the drivetrains, it’s the same thinking that made the 427 such a success: do it right, even if it takes longer.
A Legacy Measured in Iron
For enthusiasts, the 427 Side Oiler is more than just an engine. It’s proof of what happens when a company gets serious about performance and refuses to accept second place. It turned Ford from an also-ran into a powerhouse. And it made possible every tough, torque-heavy big block that came after.
So yeah, your Bullnose F-150 never had a 427, but every time you start it, you’re hearing echoes of that engine. The smooth idle, the deep tone, the feeling that the motor could pull a house down… all of it traces back to lessons learned when Ford went to war with Ferrari.
Without the 427, there’s no 429. Without the 429, there’s no 460. And without the 460, the Bullnose doesn’t get its reputation for being a hard-pulling, long-living workhorse.
That’s why the 427 matters. It wasn’t just a racing engine. It was a proof of concept that forever changed how Ford built power.
Now, this is Bullnose Garage, so let’s ask the question that’s been itching at the back of your mind since the start: “Would it be possible to drop a 427 Side Oiler into a Bullnose Ford?”
Short answer: yes. Long answer: yes, but your wallet’s going to need CPR.
The swap can be done. The Bullnose engine bay is plenty roomy, the frame can take it, and adapter kits exist to bolt almost anything to almost anything. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
The Money Problem
A real, documented 427 Side Oiler block is one of the most expensive pieces of Ford iron on the planet. These weren’t mass-produced like 390s or 428s. Depending on the condition, just the block alone can cost anywhere from $10,000 to $20,000, and that’s before you’ve bought heads, crank, rods, pistons, or an intake.
If you’re lucky enough to find a complete running engine, (talking a real one here, not a service replacement or re-stamped block), you’re probably looking at $30,000 to $40,000, minimum. That’s more than most Bullnose trucks are worth fully restored.
And that’s just to own one. If you plan to actually drive it, you’ll want a modern oiling system, better cooling, and upgraded ignition. The Side Oiler was designed to live at wide-open throttle, not to idle in traffic on a summer day with the A/C blowing. It’ll do it, but it’ll complain the whole time.
The Practicality Problem
Even if money isn’t an issue, there’s the matter of weight and geometry. The FE family isn’t exactly light. A fully dressed 427 tips the scales at roughly 620 to 650 pounds, and that’s all iron. No aluminum block, no fancy alloys. Your front suspension would notice that extra hundred pounds compared to a Windsor or even a 460.
Then there’s the intake. Because the FE’s intake manifold forms part of the cylinder heads, it’s a monster, sometimes 70 pounds by itself. Swapping one of those isn’t a “pop it off before lunch” kind of job. You’ll want a hoist, or at least a few strong friends and a six-pack.
As for transmission fitment, you’d need FE-to-modern bellhousing adapters, and custom headers would almost be mandatory. You could get creative with mounts and driveshaft angles, but the swap would involve plenty of cutting, welding, and head-scratching. Nothing impossible, just not easy.
And don’t forget about the fuel system. The 427’s thirst makes a 460 look efficient. On a good day, you might see 5 to 7 miles per gallon and that’s if you’re nice to it. But let’s be honest, nobody puts a Side Oiler in a truck to hypermile.
The Cool Factor
Proof that Bullnose trucks still turn heads.
Here’s where logic goes out the window. Because a Bullnose with a 427 under the hood isn’t about practicality, it’s about bragging rights. It’s the kind of swap that makes people stop mid-sentence at a car show.
Most folks expect to see a Windsor or maybe a 460 if they peek under the hood. But when they spot those wide FE valve covers and that distinctive side gallery bulge on the block? Game over. You’ve just won every “coolest swap” conversation within a 500-foot radius.
It’s ridiculous. It’s expensive. It’s completely unnecessary. And it’s also one of the most badass things you could ever do to a Bullnose. The kind of thing that makes people say, “You did what?” and then immediately grab their phones for a picture.
The Reality Check
For most people, it just doesn’t make sense. Real 427 Side Oilers are collector pieces now, and every one that gets pulled out of a crate or race car to be stuffed into a pickup is one less surviving piece of Ford racing history.
If you want the look and the power without the museum-level price tag, a 390 or 428 FE build will get you most of the way there. Those engines share the same basic architecture and can be built to run hard with modern internals. You’ll still get that FE sound and torque curve, but without needing a second mortgage.
Or, if you’re chasing performance, a well-built 460 or even a stroked 408 Windsor will out-torque a stock 427 and cost a fraction of the price. You’ll have parts support, lighter weight, and fewer headaches.
But if you do happen to find a dusty Side Oiler sitting in your uncle’s barn and decide to make it happen? You’ll have my respect forever. Because a Bullnose with a 427 Side Oiler under the hood isn’t a build — it’s a statement.
It says: “Yeah, I put a Le Mans engine in my farm truck. What are you gonna do about it?”
The Wrap-Up: Ford’s Iron-Fisted Masterpiece
The Ford 427 Side Oiler wasn’t built to be practical. It wasn’t built to idle smooth, sip gas, or pass emissions. It was built for one reason: to win. To take the fight to Chrysler at Daytona, to humiliate Ferrari at Le Mans, and to prove that American engineering could go toe-to-toe with anyone on earth.
And it did.
It gave Ford four straight Le Mans victories, a NASCAR championship run, and a fearsome reputation on the drag strip that still echoes in the pits today. This engine didn’t just make power… it made history. Every FE that came before it led to it, and every Ford big block that came after owed it a debt.
The FE Family’s Final Triumph
The 427 Side Oiler was the pinnacle of the FE family. It took a design that started life in the late 1950s and refined it into something worthy of global domination. From the deep-skirt block to the cross-bolted mains and the side-mounted oil gallery, every inch of that engine was purpose-built to solve problems most manufacturers didn’t even know they had yet.
It proved that Ford could do more than build reliable engines, they could build bulletproof ones. The same DNA that made the 427 survive Le Mans for 24 hours without coughing up its crankshaft eventually found its way into the 429 and 460. Those engines powered dump trucks, tow rigs, RVs, and the heavy-duty Bullnose pickups that became legends in their own right.
Lessons That Lasted
The real genius of the 427 wasn’t just its raw output. It was what Ford learned from it. They learned how to strengthen block castings, balance oil pressure, and keep bearings alive under conditions that would kill most engines. They learned that overbuilding doesn’t just win races. It earns reputations too.
And that mindset filtered down through decades of Ford engineering. When you look at a 460 pulling a trailer through the mountains without breaking a sweat, that’s the 427’s legacy at work. When you hear a Bullnose rumble to life and feel that deep torque right off idle, you’re feeling the echoes of a time when Ford refused to cut corners.
The Soul of a Winner
Every legend ends with a checkered flag.
For us truck guys, the 427 isn’t just a piece of racing trivia. It’s proof that Ford earned its stripes. It’s the reason we can still brag that our trucks were built tough before “Built Ford Tough” was even a slogan.
Every Bullnose out there, from the humble 300 straight-six to the big 460, carries that same bloodline. You can trace it straight back to the moment Ford decided they were done playing nice and started building engines to win.
No, your ’85 F-150 never came with a 427 under the hood. But the lessons learned from that engine shaped every big block Ford that followed, and every time you fire yours up, you’re hearing a little piece of Le Mans in the exhaust note.
The 427 Side Oiler wasn’t just an engine. It was a statement — one that said, Ford doesn’t follow. Ford fights.
And that fight lives on in every truck still rolling down the road today.
If you want more specific information on Bullnose Ford Trucks, check out my YouTube Channel!
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All right, here we go. This is a fun one. Aftermarket parts. Do they suck? Yes. Yes, they do. All right. Now, obviously, not all aftermarket parts suck. This is a hard question. It’s interesting. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve seen several people on Facebook and Reddit ask if aftermarket parts are better. I’m going to approach this from a bullnose angle because the question is so broad that trying to answer it for every vehicle and every type of part is just ridiculous. Even for bullnose, some aftermarket parts are better, and some aren’t. But there are a lot of parts that just aren’t better. That was hard for me to grasp when I first started working on my truck. I got into working on these old bullnose trucks, and I thought, ‘I got this new truck. I’m going to fix it up, make it nice and shiny, and get all the new parts.’ Clearly, a new part should be better than a 40-year-old part, right? At this point, they’re 40 years old, so the new parts have got to be better for a couple of reasons. One, they’re brand new, so they’re not worn out, and two, the world has had 40 years to figure out how to make these parts better. So, if I go to O’Reilly’s, AutoZone, or Napa and get a brand new part, it should be way better. For performance parts like heads, headers, carburetors, and fuel injectors, new aftermarket parts, especially performance ones, are just going to be better. That’s what you’re paying for. What I’m talking about is replacement parts that claim to be OEM but really aren’t. Stuff you buy from AutoZone or O’Reilly’s, like Dorman parts, generally aren’t better. The point of this rant is to tell you that for many parts on your trucks, if you can keep them working or refurbish them, do that. For those doing restorations wanting all original OEM stuff, this isn’t an issue. It’s for guys like me tinkering in their garage who want to keep these trucks on the road. I wish someone had told me when I started that the parts I was replacing might be better fixed instead. When I first got the truck, I’d replace parts with ones from Amazon, thinking they’d be better, but that’s not true. In 40 years, the world hasn’t figured out how to make these parts better because nobody cares about an old F-150 part from ’85. What they care about is selling you something, and higher quality doesn’t sell as well as low price. They’ve figured out how to make these parts cheaper. Where a part used to be a nice, robust metal part, now it’s all plastic. A perfect example is the old school hubcaps. I’ll be doing an episode about how to get those hubcaps on aftermarket wheels. Those aftermarket hubcaps are all plastic, whereas the original ones were solid metal. Are the plastic ones bad? No, they’re not bad quality. They don’t crack or have problems; they’re just plastic, not quite as high quality. Some parts will give you problems. One of the first things I replaced on my F-150 were the side mirrors because one wouldn’t stay put. The connection between the mirror and the mounting was wobbly, so I’d drive, and it would flop around. Rather than fix the mount, I thought I should buy a brand new mirror. I looked at mirrors on Amazon, and they weren’t expensive. I thought a brand new mirror had to be good. So, I bought a couple of mirrors. If I’m replacing one side, I may as well replace both. I spent hours figuring out how to get the old mirrors off and replace them with new ones. The problem was the old mirrors were metal and solid, and the new ones were plastic. The new mirrors would stay in place but shake so much you couldn’t use them to look behind you. The old ones didn’t have that problem; they would flop around but didn’t shake. There’s no way to fix the shake because they’re cheap.
They’re made cheaply. They’re not the big, nice, heavy metal mirrors. They are cheap, light plastic mirrors. What’s worse is, to my knowledge, you can’t find a good aftermarket set of side mirrors that aren’t made cheaply. I threw the original mirrors away because I didn’t know any better. Don’t make the mistake I made and assume that aftermarket stuff is just better. Now, obviously, this is a nuanced question because not all aftermarket parts are worse. A lot of aftermarket parts are basically the same. I have a Dorman door striker on my truck for closing the door and keeping it tight. My original one was worn out, so the door wouldn’t stay closed well. I bought a Dorman replacement door striker and had to modify it a bit, but now it works great. Another example is my windshield wiper motor. The new aftermarket one works fantastic, but I had to modify it to fit. In 1985, trucks came off the assembly line with parts made to exactly fit that vehicle. New aftermarket parts are made to fit multiple vehicles, so they often require tweaks to fit properly. It’s normal to buy a part that says it fits your vehicle, but it doesn’t quite fit, and you have to modify it. That’s one of the frustrating things about working on old vehicles. I don’t have a lot of experience with other vehicles besides my ’85 F-150 and ’82 Bronco, but I assume it’s similar with other old cars. If you’re doing period-correct restorations, you have to find original parts, which can be expensive and difficult. Junkyard parts can be a hassle to get. Sometimes you just want to go to AutoZone and get something new, but those doing restorations don’t have that option. If you can keep the old stuff going, do it. I wish I had kept those mirrors. I could have figured something out to make them work better. Just because a part is new doesn’t mean it’s better. Old parts were designed by engineers who knew what they were doing. They built them tough back then. Newer vehicles aren’t necessarily bad, but when it comes to parts, the new stuff isn’t always better. Non-OEM replacement parts can be shady. You just don’t know. I replaced my parking brake cable and made a video about it.
I installed a parking brake cable, and within two uses, it was ruined because it bound up inside. There was a coating inside that caused it to malfunction. I had to buy a different cable from another brand, which didn’t have that issue and has worked fine since. Aftermarket parts can be a gamble; some are fine, and some are not. You don’t know until you try them. If I buy a part from Amazon and it fails, I leave a review to warn others. I did that for the parking brake cable that broke after two uses. I don’t like leaving negative reviews because someone is trying to make a living, but it’s necessary. Aftermarket parts aren’t always better just because they’re new. Especially with parts from China, they’re made cheaply for us to buy cheaply. People often look at the price before quality, which is why these parts keep being made. My advice is to keep old parts working if possible. If you can’t, keep them around unless they’re beyond repair. You might find you need them later. I have a file cabinet in my garage for old parts because you can’t always buy new ones for old vehicles. It’s not always about whether aftermarket parts are better; sometimes, they’re not even available. So, keep the old parts running if you can. Thanks for watching. If you have questions or comments, leave them below. See you next time.
Do Aftermarket Parts Really Suck?
Ah, the age-old debate: are aftermarket parts for classic cars and trucks actually any good? Spoiler alert: not always. Now, I know this might ruffle some feathers, but let’s dive into why ‘new’ doesn’t always mean ‘better’ when it comes to these parts. Trust me, I’ve been there with my own F-150 and Bronco projects, and I’ve got some stories to tell.
When New Isn’t Better
So, you might think that a brand-new part should outperform a 40-year-old one, right? Wrong. Especially when we’re talking about those parts you grab from AutoZone or O’Reilly’s. They’re often marketed as OEM replacements, but in reality, they don’t hold a candle to the originals. Take mirrors, for instance. I replaced the ones on my F-150, thinking new would mean sturdy and reliable. What I got were plastic pieces that shook more than a Polaroid picture.
The Plastic Problem
Here’s the deal: a lot of these new parts are made cheaper, not better. Where you used to have solid metal hubcaps, now you’ve got plastic ones. Sure, they might not crack, but they’re just not the same quality. And don’t get me started on those side mirrors. The originals might have flopped a bit, but at least they didn’t vibrate like a bad karaoke performance.
When Aftermarket Does Work
Now, I’m not saying all aftermarket parts are junk. Some are actually decent, especially when it comes to performance parts like heads and carburetors. You’re paying for that extra oomph, and sometimes it’s worth it. I’ve had some success with a Dorman door striker and a windshield wiper motor. But here’s the catch: they often need a bit of tweaking to fit just right. It’s like buying a suit off the rack; it might fit, but a little tailoring goes a long way.
Buyer Beware
Aftermarket parts can be a gamble. I once replaced a parking brake cable, and it was toast after two uses. The culprit? A cheap coating that caused it to bind up. I had better luck with a different brand, but the experience taught me to read reviews and proceed with caution. If you buy a part and it fails, don’t be shy about leaving a review to help out the next guy.
The Case for Keeping It Old School
If you’ve got original parts that still have some life left in them, my advice is to keep them going. Refurbish them if you can. These parts were built tough back in the day, and sometimes they’re just irreplaceable. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s wise to hang onto old parts, even if they’re not perfect. You never know when you might need them again.
Final Thoughts
In the end, it’s all about making informed choices. Don’t assume that new aftermarket parts are automatically better. Sometimes, they’re not even available, and when they are, they might not be worth the trouble. So, before you toss out those old parts, think twice. You might just save yourself a headache down the road.
As always, if you’ve got questions or comments, drop them below. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Until next time, keep those classic cars and trucks running!
If you want more specific information on Bullnose Ford Trucks, check out my YouTube Channel!
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you see an Amazon link on my site, purchasing the item from Amazon using that link helps out the Channel.
Great! What would you like to know or do with your 1986 F-150? Looking for repair advice, maintenance tips, or maybe some upgrade ideas? Let me know!
User:
What could be causing my 1986 F150 to not start despite new fuel injectors and lines?
Bill:
Let’s dig into this fuel issue with your ’86 F-150. It sounds like you’re dealing with a fuel delivery problem. Here are a few steps to troubleshoot and hopefully resolve it:
Check Fuel Pressure
Fuel Pressure Test:
Use a fuel pressure gauge to check the pressure at the fuel rail. The 5.0 EFI should have around 35-45 psi.
If the pressure is low, it might be a failing fuel pump or a clogged fuel filter.
Fuel Pump:
Listen for the fuel pump priming when you turn the key to the "ON" position. If you don’t hear it, the pump may be failing or there could be an electrical issue.
Inspect Fuel System Components
Fuel Filter:
Make sure your fuel filter isn’t clogged. A blocked filter will restrict fuel flow to the engine.
Fuel Pump Relay:
Check the fuel pump relay and its connections. A faulty relay can prevent power from reaching the pump.
Inertia Switch:
Ensure the inertia switch hasn’t been tripped. This switch cuts off fuel in the event of a collision but can sometimes trip accidentally.
Check Air and Idle Control
Idle Air Control Valve (IAC):
A faulty IAC valve can cause high idle and stalling. Clean or replace it if needed.
Throttle Position Sensor (TPS):
If the TPS is out of adjustment or faulty, it can cause stalling when you hit the gas. Test it with a multimeter to ensure proper operation.
Electrical and Sensor Checks
Mass Air Flow (MAF) Sensor:
Make sure the MAF sensor is clean and functioning properly. A dirty or defective MAF can cause idle and throttle issues.
Engine Control Unit (ECU):
Consider checking for any stored trouble codes, even if the Check Engine Light isn’t on. This might give you clues.
Pro Tips
Fuel Quality: Ensure the fuel is fresh and not contaminated with water or debris.
Vacuum Leaks: Inspect for vacuum leaks around the intake manifold and hoses, as these can affect idle and throttle response.
If you go through these steps and still have issues, there could be something more specific tied to the electrical system or the ECU. Keep me posted on what you find!
User:
I have replaced all fuel pumps and filters; what else should I check?
Bill:
Got it. Since you’ve got new fuel pumps and filters, let’s focus on some other potential culprits:
Electrical and Sensor Focus
Fuel Pump Relay and Wiring:
Double-check the relay and associated wiring for any corrosion or loose connections.
Throttle Position Sensor (TPS):
Test the TPS with a multimeter. It should have a smooth change in voltage as you move the throttle.
Idle Air Control Valve (IAC):
Clean the IAC valve. If it’s sticking, it can cause idle and stalling issues.
Fuel System Pressure Check
Pressure Regulator:
Ensure the fuel pressure regulator isn’t leaking or faulty. Check the vacuum line attached to it for fuel presence, indicating a diaphragm issue.
Air Intake and Sensors
MAF Sensor:
Ensure the MAF sensor is clean. Use MAF cleaner to avoid damaging it.
Check for Vacuum Leaks:
Inspect all hoses and the intake manifold for leaks with a smoke test or carb cleaner spray.
ECU and Codes
Diagnostic Scan:
Even if the Check Engine Light isn’t on, use a scan tool to check for any stored codes.
Additional Thoughts
Timing and Ignition:
Confirm the ignition timing is set correctly and the distributor cap and rotor aren’t worn out.
If you troubleshoot these areas and still face issues, it might be worth consulting with a local mechanic for a deeper diagnostic. Let me know how it goes!
User:
Why does my truck respond to starting fluid but not start normally?
Bill:
When your engine fires with starting fluid, but not otherwise, it indicates the engine is getting spark and air but insufficient fuel. Here’s why that might happen:
Potential Causes
Insufficient Fuel Delivery:
Even with new pumps, there might be an obstruction or a weak electrical supply affecting the pump’s performance.
Fuel Pressure Regulator:
A faulty regulator might be providing insufficient pressure, preventing fuel from reaching the injectors effectively.
Injectors Not Firing:
The injectors might not be getting the signal to fire. This could be a wiring issue, a blown fuse, or a problem with the Engine Control Unit (ECU).
What to Check Next
Injector Pulse:
Use a noid light to check if the injectors are getting a pulse. If not, it’s likely an electrical or ECU issue.
Fuel Pressure:
Even with new components, verify that the pressure at the fuel rail meets specifications.
ECU and Electrical Connections:
Ensure all related electrical connectors are secure, with no corrosion or damage.
Check Grounds:
Poor grounding can affect fuel system components, causing erratic behavior.
By addressing these areas, you can better pinpoint the weak link in the fuel delivery system. Let me know how you progress!
User:
Does the 1986 Ford F150 have an OBD port for diagnostics?
Bill:
Your 1986 F-150 likely doesn’t have an OBD-I port like later vehicles. Instead, it uses a self-test connector under the hood, typically near the driver’s side fender. You can use a code reader specifically for Ford vehicles from this era or perform a manual test with a test light or multimeter to read trouble codes.
Here’s how you can do it:
How to Read Codes
Locate the Connector:
Find the EEC-IV test connector under the hood.
Connect a Test Light:
Use a test light or jumper wire to connect the Self-Test Input (STI) to the Signal Return (SIG RET).
Turn the Key On:
Turn the ignition key to the "ON" position without starting the engine.
Read the Codes:
Count the flashes of the Check Engine Light or test light. The flashes correspond to two-digit trouble codes.
Tips
Code Interpretation:
Refer to a code list for specific meanings. There should be two sets: continuous memory codes and hard fault codes.
Be Patient:
The process takes a little time, so be patient while counting the flashes.
This can help pinpoint issues that might not be immediately obvious. Let me know what codes you find!
User:
Where can I find the OBD port under the hood of my 1986 F150?
Bill:
The EEC-IV test connector on your 1986 F-150 is usually located near the driver’s side fender, close to the firewall or the brake booster. It might be covered with a plastic cap. Look for a small, rectangular connector with a couple of wires leading into it. If you’re having trouble locating it, check the area around the master cylinder or the power distribution box.
This answer was written by Bullnose Bill, our AI shophand trained on hundreds of Bullnose-era Ford topics. He knows his way around old Ford Trucks.
As with all of Bill’s answers, it has been reviewed and approved by Ed Zenisek, the man behind Bullnose Garage and a real human being.
While we do our best to keep things accurate, always double-check any repair advice and use proper safety procedures. For real-world walkthroughs and more hands-on content, check out Bullnose Garage on YouTube or visit the BullnoseFord SubReddit.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you see an Amazon link on my site, purchasing the item from Amazon using that link helps out the Channel.
