:: Friday, April 11, 2014 ::
It’s TVR Car Club day on Sunday. Yes I know it’s a week later than usual - the hotel managed to realise, more than a day in advance, that they had a wedding booked for the same day, so gave us almost a fortnight’s notice! Isn’t that amazing?
The TVR is along at the barn though, where I put it while I worked on the Porsche’s brakes. I need to get it back here so that I can get it tidied up (that means “improve the wheels from an oxidised pitted mess to things that are reasonably shiny, and also clean up the bodywork”. So I take the Porsche along, swap the cars over, and drive the TVR back.
In the meantime, Postman Pat has brought my TVR Car Club magazine, which contains an advert disguised as a feature, on how to fit a Corvettes LS7 V8 engine into a TVR T350. It’s not very informative though because the company involved isn’t giving away any secrets. It’s absolutely fascinating to read, every month, about the variety of cars that a Corvette engine fits into.
The Central Scotland Region report is equally enlightening, as it sets out all the recent activities in our region. It’s completely empty.
:: Saturday, April 12, 2014 ::
I’ve had a polishing frenzy today. First I spend 3 hours polishing the wheels, first with wet and dry paper, then a scotchbrite pad, then metal polish. They come up not bad at all! You can get them even better with polishing mops, but that’s for another day.
Next, I wash down the bodywork, and dry it off.
Then it’s just a matter of tidying up various odds and ends. The new headlamp rims I bought last year are shite, they need a bit of a polish already.
I still have a slow puncture in the rear nearside tyre - it’s very slow though, it takes ages to drop significantly. I check all the tyre pressures while I’m at it.
Right, that’ll do, donkey.
:: Sunday, April 13, 2014 ::
True to form - it’s been dry for the last few days, I spent all day yesterday while I cleaned up the TVR. I wake up this morning to sunshine, so it’s looking good. Then, 10 minutes before I I am due to rain, it starts to rain. Not a proper rain, no - just what we call a “smirk” where things get wet but you can’t see the rain until you’re soaked.
So, that’s an end to my plans for a “roof off” drive today? Is it buggery - as long as we’re moving, it’ll be fine.
Dave isn’t going today, so I set off to meet up with Jim, who has the car out for its last outing - he’s sold it and is now on the lookout for a replacement.
So after a wee coffee, we set off, and within half a mile I see Jim in my mirrors, almost being wiped out by a passing coach which decides to change lanes without particularly worrying about whether the target lane is already occupied or not. Over the Forth Bridge we go, through the 50mph limit at the road works, being passed by various euroboxes doing 60. Then you leave the road works and you catch them up because they are still doing 60 in the inside lane, with some passing in the outside lane doing 60.001 mph. Then everybody slows down to 59.999 mph because a police car comes up a slip road, and none of these dozy bastards is smart enough to realise that the motorway speed limit is actually 70.
My car needs an Italian tune-up, because it’s been pottering about at pottery speeds since I fixed it, so I decide that once I get off the motorway, I’ll have a bit of a boon. Unfortunately, the plan is almost spoiled by my second least favourite form of twat - the one who comes past you in the outside lane and then at the very last minute, chops across your bonnet to go up the slip road. Now I don’t remember this happening a lot, until recently, where you can almost guarantee that some last-minute Larry will force his way in front to get to a slip road that has been signposted for the last 2 feckin miles.
This time, it’s a Transit van belonging to a motorbike dealer in Dunfermline (that cuts it down a bit because I can only think of one). At the top of the slip, he turns in the same direction as me, which buggers up the Italian tune-up idea. Well until the next straight bit of road, when I blast past on full afterburn, being careful of course not to exceed the limit of 60 mph… I can see in the mirror though that he’s driving out of his skin just to keep his shitty old van in sight, until he turns of the other way.
We get to the hotel, and admire Cammi and Alan’s SEAC, before going inside. While I am waiting to order my lunch, Hugh arrives and says he wants to ask my advice about something. I do try to discourage him while my focus is on ordering food, but he persists in asking advice anyway. I can’t remember a word he said - something about a clutch operating rod and slave cylinder I think - but he’s happy he got to tell someone, so all’s well.
On the journey home, I remember my third least favourite form of twat - the ones who see a queue waiting to go through road works, but still drive right up the empty lane, and then push in about a millimetre before they hit the taper cones. I’ve read some interesting contrary opinions on this - some say there are two lanes so use them, and I can see the sense of that, but at the same time, I also know that merging at the last minute, when you’re almost stationary, seriously slows everything down.
At least I’ve got something to moan about, either way… It’s being this miserable that keeps me happy.
:: Sunday, April 27, 2014 ::
This weekend in the garage I have mostly been doing sod all. I have a dilemma, see?
I’ve had the car 11 years, and during most of that time, the back of the drivers door has rubbed against the doorshut at the top. I’ve adjusted it, it’s not loose, the hinges aren’t worn, but no matter how much I adjust it, it still catches on the door frame…
I took the top hinge bolt out and put a new bush on. I couldn’t get the bottom bolt out, and didn’t exert too much force in case I pulled the whole hinge out of the bodywork. A wee bit better, but still rubbing.
After seeing how flexible the back of the body shell is when it’s off the chassis, I thought I might try taking some packing out, between the body and the rear of the petrol tank cradle, to pull the back down and open up the gap. I’ve now only got the thinnest bits of rubber in those mountings, and still the gap is too tight.
So now I think that what I need to do is to lift the body slightly and put more packing in to the mountings at the front of the wheel arch (under the seat belt reels) to pull the door gap slightly wider. But I have a look today, and there’s already about half an inch of rubber between the chassis and the body shell… maybe I need to pull the front down slightly instead? It’s all getting a bit complicated and I’m going to end up cracking the windscreen or something if I’m not careful.
On balance, I think I’ll put my procrastination cap back on.
Meanwhile, over in Porscheland, I found a slight tear in one of the driveshaft gaiters. It’s right beside the clip that holds the gaiter to the driveshaft. I remove the clip and go to the shops and buy a bicycle puncture repair kit for £2.50. I clean up the gaiter with brake cleaner on a cotton bud (well 4 cotton buds) and then follow the instructions on the patch kit. It sticks like wossname to a blanket. Replace the clip, and hope it lasts.
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