:: Diary - April 2012 ::

:: Thursday, April 5, 2012 ::

I had a couple of decent runs out in the Cerbera at the weekend, and it behaved itself. So far so good!

I haven't had a lot of time to work on the S - I have a few things I still want to tidy up.

Yesterday the Lexus developed a brake wobble - I was down in England and it started in the last few miles. It was still there all the way back today. I think the disks are warped. A quick look reveals a fairly noticeable lip around the edge of both front disks. A look online suggests disks are about £50 each. I'm tempted to change them myself rather than fo to the dealer - famous last words are "how hard can it be?"

Also news today of the death of FA Porsche (known as "Butzi" Porsche), grandson of Ferdinand Porsche, design of the original people's car, the Volkswagen (Beetle). Butzi was the designer of the iconic Porsche 911 - in other words, a genius.

:: Friday, April 13, 2012 ::

I've promised Jim that I will drop by today, to help him refit the body to the chassis. Dave has "helped him" with the welding (in the same way that he helped me with some of mine - that is, by elbowing you into a far corner of the garage so that he can do it his way). The chassis is all painted so it's rebuild time!

First though, I have to wait till I get my Lexus back. It went away on Tuesday for some remedial work after the crash repair - mainly that the driver's door went "boing" every time you shut it - honestly, the other three shut with a "quality thud" but this one was like a 2CV that had been stripped out for racing. It was driving me bonkers.

Anyway, with the Lexus duly delivered and quality-tested (it's much better. probably liveable-with, but still not right) I then have to return the hire car. It's a brand new 1 litre Nissan Micra that I did 240 miles in yesterday, and you know what? It's not too bad at all! 47 mpg is a bonus, it's reasonably comfy, the heater works and it bowls along no problem. One downside is that overtakes have to be planned two bends in advance, and then aborted if there's something - anything - coming the other way between you and the horizon. My experience of a 850cc NSU Prinz from 35 years ago makes this a breeze, a hoot even. The other, and main, downside is that it has absolutely no feel whatsoever in corners, and you can't compensate for that unless you drive like a complete tit.

So it's into Edinburgh with the hire car, and then the bus home, to get changed and go half-way back to Edinburgh in the Lexus to go to Jim's. I arrive at the same time as their burgers and chips, courtesy of "Big Dave's Maccy-D Delivery Service", but there's none for me. Bastards. I head off round the corner to the wee village shop, who sell hot pies and other carbohydrate-enriched savouries, just what you need before intensive exercise.

Dave and Jim have already lowered the body into position, so it all just needs fixing together with the shiny new bolts Jim has bought. In fact, he's bought enough bolts to re-assemble the Eiffel Tower, so there's no shortage. Not quite so many washers though. We refit all the body bolts, the seatbelts, the fuel filler, and a new stainless steel plate under the boot bolts (the strip above the exhausts). The new steering column bearing goes in, and then the steering rack is reconnected.

We can't refit the seats because Jim wants to tidy them up first (and there aren't enough big washers). We can't refit the exhaust until Jim has fitted his shiny new manifolds, and we can't fit those cos he's got no gaskets.

Otherwise, though, that's it! One week till MOT, another week till Chatsworth - bags of time and it's all over already!

Well, apart from the domestic fallout in Jim's house later, because in all the excitement of being allowed to use power tools to drill holes and cut metal, he forgot to complete his one single assigned simple domestic chore, which was to phone the vet. This comes as a surprise to Dave and me, because he's spent half the day phoning everybody else on the planet while we crawled about with spanners, but there you go. Anyway, les affaires domestique are another story, not suitable for publication on a family web site.

:: Monday, April 23, 2012 ::

There hasn't been much in the way of news recently, mainly because... Oh hang on, the phone's ringing...

That was a certain someone who shall remain nameless to avoid any embarrassment or confusion with anybody else called Adrian. 4 days till Chatsworth and he hasn't got his old exhaust manifolds off yet. The new ones haven't been delivered yet either. I said I would help if he was stuck, but that was when I wasn't very busy.

The problem is that now I am (very busy): I have meetings every day this week, plus an absolute deadline of next Monday for a job that should have taken a month, but I was given 10 days. At least the fee reflects the associated hassle!

Last week wasn't a lot better, so TVR preparation has taken a back seat.

I did get out to the Cerbera yesterday, and gave it a wash, after dissolving my extensive insect collection from the nose. I even managed to polish the front half and the roof before the rain came on and I had to put it back in the garage. I was going to try and polish the rest in fits and starts, when I get a chance, before Friday, but I'll need to see if his new exhausts arrive, which would make getting the old ones off a bit more of a priority.

Chatsworth at the end of April seemed so far away, back in October, eh?

:: Friday, April 27, 2012 ::

Work crisis. I have a project to finish for Monday, so because I am away all weekend, the plan was to get it done by the end of today. I have worked my tits off to get there. All was going to plan until 8 pm yesterday, when it turned out that the one bleeding thing I had asked somebody else to do, wasn't right. In fact, it was a pile of bollocks.

So I have spent most of today putting that right, then finishing my bit, putting a report together, and sending it off to the client who is desperate to approve it and get it submitted by first thing on Monday morning at the very very latest. Except, of course, I hear absolutely nothing. Great. Glad I worried so hard.

While I am waiting for them to find their reading pointer, I manage to find time to get the Cerbera out of the garage and finish polishing it, and clean up the wheels etc. The weather forecast for Sunday says we can expect pishing rain all day, but hell, it's only once a year so we have to look our best, eh?

I also phone Adrian, whose exhaust manifolds were delivered yesterday. Unfortunately, our Adrian had given up hope, so had decided to refit the old ones for the Chatsworth trip. All went well except that the gaskets were knackered, so the car sounds like a Lamborghini. The tractor kind. So it's now officially off the road until that's fixed. Probably in October.

So that means he's looking for a lift. He also has a vague aspiration to bring his driving shoes and gloves, but I quickly clarity that he can forget that notion.

We're all set! I'm all excited!

:: Saturday, April 28, 2012 ::

I'm up bright and early, like a kid who's desperate to see if Santa's been. Last minute packing completed, and then I shift cars around the drive like one of those wee square puzzles, until the Cerbera ends up at the front. I also pack some tools into my old toolbox, some cleaning stuff, and then at the last minute, a huge box of cable ties that I bought about 20 years ago.

Adrian arrives and we shuffle his car to the rear of the pack, and we're off!

We arrive at the agreed meeting place, but no sign of Dave and Jim. Then the phone goes - Jim's newly MOTd car has a wee problem - if somebody (anybody, not just a big person, it could be anybody) sits in the passenger seat, there is a chassis bolt which is slightly too long, and cuts into the rear tyre. We nip round to Dave's house, stopping at a bank machine to take out some cash. AS I am doing that, I realise that my phone isn't in my pocket - I must have left it at home. Bugger, it'll take ages to go back and get it. Then as I get back to the car I reaise - hang on, Jim just phoned me, the phone's in the car...

Here's a picture of Dave helping Jim to angle grind the end off the bolt. You'll notice that Jim isn't in this picture, he's in the corner of the garage, covered in elbow marks.

Anyway, with that sorted, we finally set off on Expedition Chatsworth.

We stop after an hour or so, as you do, for a wee bite to eat, then it's on our way again. Adrian is surprised that nobody has mentioned exhausts or October or honorary membership of Procrastinators Anonymous, but we're not the kinda guys to remind a fellow traveller that his own car could have been ready if only he'd listened to advice, and pulled the finger out. Nope, not us.

After another hour of relaxed cruising, we go over a bump, and I hear the exhaust hit the bottom of the car. Shortly after that, we hear a little tinny rattle at random intervals, so we stop for a look. The brace the man welded on between the two pipes has snapped, and the ends are rubbing together with the movement of the car.

We find a wedge of sandstone lying at the side of the road (note - no dry stone walls were damaged during the making of this website) and reverse one rear wheel on to it. That lets me wriggle my fat carcass underneath and, with Adrian's help, fit a couple of large cable ties around the exhaust (after wrapping it in a cloth to prevent the cable ties melting). That successfully holds the two ends together for the rest of the journey.

There is apparently a photograph in existence of the execution of this masterpiece of engineering bodgery, which I shall stick on here as soon as Dave sends it to me. Adrian can print and keep it as a memento of the most successful engineering exercise he has participated in since last October.

And here is that photo! Note the safe and sterile work environment and the wide range of tools on show. Note also the limited extent of fat carcass that fits under the car, even at that height.

And here is the incredible proof of Adrian's involvement, using a very fast shutter speed to capture that rare moment between him getting the idea to do something, and losing enthusiasm.

Jim thinks that, in the middle of all this frantic activity, I don't spot him wolfing down my Jelly Babies. I say nothing. He'll pay.

So it's on with the expedition!

After another stop for coffee and fuel, we arrive uneventfully at our Travel Lodge, which is, well, a Travel Lodge - what else can I say? The male receptionist is very friendly, especially when he realises that he'll have four gentlemen guests all in rooms on their own.

After a wee rest and a website-writing session, we head out for dinner - only to find that the place we went to last year is closed for refurbishment. We distract a handy local from counting the number of bricks in an adjacent house wall, to ask where the nearest eating establishment is, to find that he doesn't know either, because he never eats out. This isn't that surprising since he looks as if he probably isn't allowed out much at all.

After asking for directions from another couple of people, we reach the conclusion that we have more chance by just wandering about at random - and we stumble across a nice Italian restaurant where the waiters have obviously been trained as Santa's helpers or something because they all have the same baby talk. The food is nice though.

So it's breakfast at 8am tomorrow, heading off at 9.30 or so. Or on the 6th of October if we use Adrian's alarm clock.

:: Sunday, April 29, 2012 ::

It's 6.30am on the day of the biggest TVR gathering of the year. Time for a weather check. Peek through hotel room curtains. Pishing rain. Checked.

Shower, shave, and other alliteratve activities, and then it's down for breakfast at 8.00. This gives the opportunity for another weather update. Look out window. Pishing rain. Updated.

8.00 am. Breakfast is a nice Early Starter for three of us, with Adrian of course ordering an Olympic but not being able to finish it - true to type, always biting off more than he can chew. Fortunately Dave and I are there, as always, to help. Then it's back to the room for some last minute packing, and the donning of the normal summer car show gear of waterproof trousers, waterproof coat and hat.

9.30 am. We arrive at the show just after gates open, and park up. The rain has picked up a fair amount of horizontal velocity in the wind that's just whipped up, so there's a temptation to just sit in the car. But that's not what we're here for, oh no, not us - so it's out for a paddle about. Within about 10 seconds I can report another weather update - it's fucking freezing.

Numbers are severely depleted, because some wee souls don't want to bring their cars out in the rain, and others live more than an hour away, you know, so it's not worth it. While they may have some sense, that's not really the point - it's only once a year, the cars won't dissolve (well... they might right enough) so get out and use them. It's a car not a bleeding ornament.

11.00 am. Still raining. After a bit of walking about and chatting, I realise that I've lost my car keys, no amount of pocket searching can find them. I decide that a loo visit is in order. My hands (and quite a lot of the rest of me) are so cold that having a pee is akin to trying to pick up the last bit of noodle, blindfold, with remote control chopsticks. While doing the rhumba.

11.30am. Right, with that mission accomplished, and hands dried under the warm air drier for about 20 minutes, I now have enough feeling to find the car keys in my pocket, so it's back to the car, and some more blethering.

Here's a picture of the assembled multitude enjoying the summer sunshine. Note how everybody has brought parasols to keep the sun off, and and are making sure that there are no areas of exposed skin that could burn. Sensible people, TVR drivers.

I saw one of these, in exactly this colour, in Edinburgh, in about 1987 or so. I remember following it through the narrow streets of the old town and listening to the exhaust bouncing back off the buildings, and thinking "I have got to get me one of those". They are lovely.

12.00 am. We retreat to the coffee bar for another dry-out, and to let Adrian catch up with all the jokes we've been thinking up while outside. We decide that we might leave at about 2.00, seeing as some people are already starting to go.

12.30 pm. Weather update. Pishing rain. We emerge from the warm to find that about half the cars have gone.

1.00 pm. We decide we're leaving too. After a wee change out of wet clothes (not for me, my waterproofs work) and various cheerios and goodbyes, we set off for home, with Barry in the lead (after my sat-nav decides that the quickest way to the M1 is by spiralling outwards in ever-increasing circles till you stumble across it).

2.00 pm. Weather update. Pishing rain. We reach the M1. You can hardly see through the spray, there's water running across the mnotorway, and yet still people are battering along undeterred, 2 millimetres from the car in front, or changing lines right in front of you at the very very last second to reach a slip road that they should have planned for a mile ago. Arseholes.

3.30 pm. Weather update. Pishing rain. We stop at some services for a coffee and a wee fuel refill. Then it's back to the M1 / A1 lunacy with a planned stop for dinner in an hour or so.

5.00 pm. We stop somewhere near Newcastle for some proper fuel (the last place didn't sell 99 RON and my Cerb won't run properly on anything else) then Barry announces that they are heading straight up the road, no dinner stop. By this time he has brought us past all the services where we could have stopped, and there's nothing else for bloody miles of non-motorway back-of-nowhere routes.

6.30 pm. Weather update. Pishing rain. We, the original group, find a hotel where can have our dinner. Adrian finishes his, which is a unique achievement for him during the last 6 months.

8.30 pm. Weather update. The rain's just gone off as we reach Edinburgh!

I get home just after 9.00, knackered and with my eyes on stalks, after driving a Cerbera back for 240 miles on soaking wet roads. It was brilliant!

So that was Chatsworth 2012. One of the most memorable TVR meetings ever. In years to come, TVR owners will sit down with their fair-weather friends and recount tales of this day, and say "Chatsworth 2012 - you don't know man, you weren't there!"

Bring on S-Club!

First though I'll have to repair the exhaust, by removing my rags-and-cable-tie repair and fixing it properly. It's going to be too hot in my garage over the summer to do any welding though. I'll have a look at the calendar for a suitable date sometime in October.

:: Monday, April 30, 2012 ::

I went out to the garage to fix the Cerbera's exhaust, but it's a bit wet today so I think I'll leave it.