:: Diary - April 2016 ::

:: Saturday, April 2, 2016 ::

One week to go till the TVR car club meeting at Burghley, and I'm still trying to catch up with this roof retrim. We’re going over 3 days (one day down, one day there, one day back) so apart from remote possibility that we might get 3 dry days in a row, I also need to be able to park the car overnight - so I need a roof! I’ve decided that if I have to, I'll go with the roof untrimmed (on the inside) although that would mean sticking the seals back on. But we’ll make best efforts to get this sorted - because that’s what we do!

The first step, on Thursday, was to peel off the my last effort at covering the inside of the panels. The bits that won't stick, are bubbling off. The rest is stuck like shit to a blanket, so it takes a finger-breaking amount of peeling off. But eventually, it's off!

I make a start to removing the old glue, using white spirit - but it's not for dissolving and wiping off. No, that would be too easy, eh?

So I start to soak white spirit into the glue with a cloth, and then scrape the residue off with a plastic gasket scraper. I discover that if I leave the cloth on the panels for a bit, the glue can absorb more white spirit, so I then change my technique to spreading white spirit cloths over one panel, then changing them to the other panel while I scrape the first one, and so on. It's tediously slow though.

Yesterday (Friday) I got most of the the thick residue off - all that's left is the original glue, which is a lot tougher.

After a bit of thought (at 2am...) I decided last night that I am going to try to retrim the panels in cloth, not vinyl, so this morning I order some brushed nylon headlining material, and some rubber strip to make the two inner seals (where the panels overlap). I'll have to use the original outer seals (above the side windows) because you can't get them no more (mine aren't original and you can't get those either!) I also order some glue that says it is temperature-resistant, so it shouldn’t sag when it gets warm (that’s if I ever get the chance to use the car in conditions that could be described as “anything better than freezing and pishing rain”.

Today (Saturday) I spend ages soaking and scraping the last of that old glue off both panels, first with the plastic scraper, then finally with the sanding pads of one of those oscillating multi-tools (which are great for lots of wee awkward jobs, by the way).

I don’t have a photo of how this looked before I started, but believe me, it was shite. Now both panels are clean and ready for their new covering!

The headlining cloth etc should be here on Wednesday, they say, so I should have time (just!) to retrim the panels, and replace the seals before we leave on Saturday. I’ve got a fair bit of work to get through as well, so I’m not going to have much time to spend on the rest of the car, so it might be manky but it will be there!

:: Wednesday, April 6, 2016 ::

The headlining cloth arrived yesterday, but apart from a quick check that I had enough, I didn’t have time to do much with it. It’s foam-backed, but still pretty thin, so should fold into all the corners etc.

Today, though, I need to at least get the material stuck on, so that it has tine to dry a bit before I refit the seals and the roof catches. So I start by kicking over a little can of oil all over the floor, to make it nice and slippery so that there’s a good chance that I’ll fall and break my neck, doing something that should have no health hazard at all (apart from “running with scissors” type stuff that you were always told not to do, but I never saw a pupil at my school ending up impaled on a set of scissors because he was running in the corridor (another no-no, apparently).

I’ve bought high-temperature spray glue, so I spray the inside of the roof, and the back of the material, and leave them to touch dry, then start in the middle (in the well in the roof) and spread the material out. It stretches slightly into the corners, so I work outwards from the centre, smoothing it all in place, till I reach the edges.

First the two bare edges (where the locating pins are that fit into the screen and the rear roof section), trimming them to shape, and then the edges where the seals go - those need to be cut about 10mm beyond the edge, and then folded over and stuck.

You know, it doesn’t look too bad! Better than it was when I started a year ago, and a lot better than it was a week ago when I picked it back up from upholstery man. The “dents” in the photos are where my elbows were, as I held the panels in place while I trimmed the edges.

I’m leave that to dry for a bit, before I fix the seals on.

After dinner time, I’m back out in the garage with the old window seals, and spread some glue on, wait till it dries a bit, then stick them on, Then I take the new inner seal moulding I ordered, and cut it to length. More glue, more sticking, and they are finished!

Well, almost. I fix one of the old latches on to one side. The other side is broken, but I ordered some more, so the other side gets a brand new one!

Roof completed, mission accomplished!

Now I’ve got 2 days to sort out the rest of the car!

:: Saturday, April 9, 2016 ::

The opening event of the TVR season is being held at Burghley House this weekend. So naturally, in true Adrian fashion, I have been fastidiously preparing the car for this year's debut. In true Adrian fashion, I have done sod all (except make sure that I have the roof fixed, so that at least I can lock the car overnight).

I haven't even clapped eyes on the car for a month, and between the various priorities of fixing the roof, getting on with work, sorting out stuff for my family, and not to forget being a lazy bastard occasionally, I haven't even had a chance to get along to the farm to collect the car. So this morning I set off at 7.30 am to walk to the garage to get it.

3 houses up the street, the new neighbour who has just moved in, is cleaning a Mazda MX5 with full rollcage and race stickers. He's going to a hillclimb apparently. Since I am in such a rush, I stop to chat for only 10 minutes, just to introduce things.

I arrive at the garage just after 8.30am. The car, of course, starts first time, and I leave it to warm up a bit while I fold up the dust sheets. The cold idle speed is all over the place though, so it barely keeps going - I don't think it's that the autochoke isn't working, I think it's running far too rich when it's cold.

I also notice that one of the back tyres is a wee bit soft - I'll need to pump that up back at the house. So it's off for home at about 8.45 am, arrive home just before 9.

I'm meeting Dave, Jim and Hugh at 9.30, so I connect up a wee electric compressor to pump up the tyre, while I pack the rest of my stuff: clothes - check; camera - check; umbrella - check; satnav - check; tools - check; happy pills - check.

I set off for our meeting point at 9.15 and arrive at 9.30 - bang on! I do need to have a wee faff while I fill up with fuel, but that's ok because Hugh isn't here yet. He's not answering his phone, and we don't know what's happened. Eventually he turns up about 20 minutes later - he had to go back home for something after he set off.

Anyway, off we go, with Dave in the lead. The plan has been carefully calculated and explained as "we'll drive for a while and then stop for a break." Even NASA don't plan their space missions with that level of detail.

So we drive for a bit, and then stop at a roadside cafe somewhere in the vicinity of Morpeth. It's too late for breakfast but too early for lunch, so we settle for a toasted teacake and a drink, before we're off again with the elaborate plan to "drive a bit further then stop for lunch". Well at least it's easy to remember...

Dave has decided that it would be nice to explore the scenery of the Tyne Tunnel, and it's reverberatory qualities as we pass through (within the legal speed limit, of course). I, of course, take no part in this hooliganism.

We stop for lunch at an american diner, where we all order burgers of varying specification. Dave enters into the spirit of the 50s by ordering a blue bubblegum milkshake as his drink. By the time he's finished it, his mouth and moustache look like he's just blowjobbed a smurf.

And soon we're off again - but not before Hugh has decided to take his roof off, which means unpacking the boot to get the panels in. He's got 5 litres of oil, 5 litres of water, tools, and an impressive assortment of spare bits. I've got tools, but no parts - if you cant fix it with cable ties, duct tape and WD40, it's AA time. By the time he's unpacked all that, put the roof panels in, and repacked everything with Dave's help, it's getting dark but after a quick refuel for some of us, we set off again anyway...

I'm in front now, so we keep up our reasonable pace, and with only a quick toilet stop, we reach the hotel at around 5pm, with 320 miles done today! This is the "official" TVR Car Club hotel with negotiated reductions in rates, so the car park has lots more (newer) TVRs in it.

I should really have checked this before I set off, but I'm relieved to find, when we "shut down" the cars for the evening, that the roof panels actually fit! Living it on the edge or what? It comes on rain soon after though, so no car cleaning tonight.

After a wee break and the usual ablutions, we meet up for dinner. After an abortive attempt at engaging a Tuscan owner in conversation, we decide to just keep to ourselves and be antisocial. Yes, even more antisocial than usual.

We were hoping that Adrian was coming, but he has texted to say that he has just replaced the battery on his car (at last, we’ve been telling him to do that for 3 years) and he doesn’t want to risk a 120-mile test drive straight out of the garage. Yeah, who would be stupid enough to just jump in an old car and drive that distance, eh?

When I get to bed, I discover that the heating system has a persistent tapping noise, that gradually gets right on your tits. Not as much as the man in the next room (or cubicle) who appears to have some form of consumption or TB or something, and breaks into uncontrollable coughing every 15 seconds. Given that each "fit" lasts 12 seconds, the racket is unbelievable. I do give some thought to the possibility of just bursting through the paper wall like the cat in the "Dreamies" adverts, and smothering the bastard with his choice of either "soft" or "firm" pillows.

I don't though, because I'm not Dave.

:: Sunday, April 10, 2016 ::

So it's up early in the morning, get dressed and out to the car. As I leave the room, this guy walks past in the corridor, barefoot and wearing only a grey t-shirt and tartan jammie bottoms. He walks past me with a guilty expression, but once he's behind me, he starts boxing the invisible man as he walks, complete with those "ffft-ffft" noises that boxing enthusiasts make to pretend they're Muhammad Ali.

I get outside to discover that there's been an overnight frost, so no cleaning cars just yet. That doesn't stop us playfully putting "car pushing" handprints on the boot. It's the simple things...

Breakfast is one of those "eat all you can hold" buffets, so we do. Eventually, that is, after we've waited for Hugh to realise that it's morning already and he needs to get up. He’s not answering his phone. Again.

Still, that gives us time to survey the naughty group who are waiting in reception, for a “Speed Awareness Course”. We manage to look smug.

The cars get a quick wipe down before Dave leaves on his own - his car is on the special display timeline so he needs to be there earlier. The rest of us dawdle around with absorbent cloths drying the cars off.

We eventually set off for our 15-mile trip to the show, where the stewards are pretty clued up and get us all parked and lined up efficiently.

So that's us here then. So what do we do now? People are still arriving, but there are some stalls over there, so that seems like a good place to head for. We amble past several S-series among the more modern stuff, including a couple that have had their wheels powder coated. They are not as shiny as a freshly-polished bare wheel, but they are a lot shinier than a bare wheel that was polished yesterday. Worth thinking about.

Jim and I decide to show off our headwear for the trip, just to keep that morning chill off the ears, you know?

We get to the stalls, where there is one selling drinks. Jim has tea, I have a soft drink, and Hugh orders a bottle of Pironi, much to my surprise.

There's also a stall with brochures for scenic car tours, so Jim and I pick up some samples to peruse later.

There's also a very nice 1966 Grantura, that has had an illustrious racing career. 3.9 litre engine in a car that weighs the same as a fag paper. I love it. There are another few Vixens and Granturas, and I am quite taken by them. If only my fat carcass could fit in one.

We wander around the edge of the field and speak to some other S owners about various topics such as wheels, re-covering dash panels, etc. By this time Hugh has finished his Pironi and is buzzing like a swarm of overactive bees with individual mini-vibrators.

The car is looking good though!

Eventually we make our way round to this "time line" where Dave is. We start at the beginning though, with a Vixen, then Ian's beautiful 3000M. This thing is immaculate.

Then there's a 3000S with an Alfa engine in it, that also looks really nice, then it's on to the wedges, starting with Dave's. He's given it a bit more of a clean and it's also looking spotless.

Another couple of wedges, and then a selection of S Series cars including the last S4 ever built, the one that used to come to our meetings. We exchange a few more tips about various bits and modifications, and then we don't really make it round the rest of the timeline to the more modern stuff.

Anyway, it's time for lunch. After a brief reconnaissance, we all settle on our choices of stalls and buy our healthy burgers, lamb steaks etc. Delicious!

What now? Another wee wander around the bits we haven't seen yet, including some S owners who weren't around when we first got here. One of them is selling roof panel bags that his sister makes, to protect the panels from scuffs etc when they are in the boot. The standard covers slip over one side only, so you can cover either the inside or the outside.

So we buy a pair of roof bags each, and stand around for a bit more chat.

Eventually, we drive back to the hotel, where I realise that it has been dry, even sunny, all day, and I can feel my head nipping just a bit. I have time for a shower and a liberal application of after-sun cream before we assemble for dinner - again waiting for Hugh before we go in.

It's during dinner that we nearly get our heads kicked in. Remember those tour brochures we picked up earlier? Well when Dave went to the bar, Jim and I chose that moment to start to discuss options for our summer run, now that Dave isn't going (he's getting an operation so won't be allowed to drive). We find a brochure for the North Coast 500 - the route Dave wanted to go last year but we all complained it was too far. He returns while we are all saying what a great idea that is, and his reaction, shall we say, isn't exactly calm and controlled. Jim and I instinctively know to cease and desist from this conversation with immediate effect. That's why we're still alive at bedtime.

The heating in the room is still ticking like a grandfather clock, despite the fact that I switched it off before I left this morning, but at least the consumptive in the next room has checked out (and I don't care by this stage if that means "checked out from this mortal existence" - I'm just glad he's not there).

:: Monday, April 11, 2016 ::

It's time to go home. We get up and find that after the ribbing we gave him last night, Hugh has not only got up early, but hasn't waited for us and is busy clearing the buffet before we get there. Foiled!

We manage to locate our cars between half a million Hotpoint vans (maybe it’s a “spin-speed awareness course’?) and get the roofs off and get packed up, then it's off to the nearest petrol station where the fuel is a lot cheaper than motorway services.

Once again, the plan is "drive for a couple of hours, then stop". I'm in front, trying to bear all of that in mind, as we drive for a couple of hours and then stop in some services or other - god alone knows where it was. We park up, have a loo break and a quick drink, then a chat with some people who are looking at the cars, and then it's time to set off again.

Dave drives off. Jim drives off. Hugh can't reach his seat belt, so he gets out, adjusts the seat, finds his keys and gets back in. I can hear the sound of Dave and Jim's cars receding into the distance (and at that level of noise, that's some distance) before Hugh turns towards me and signals "are you ready?". We're off!

After an unscheduled and somewhat unexpected stop in a tiny layby beside the A1, and a near-death experience as I made an instant choice between punting Hugh up the luggage or being turned to jam by the Mercedes Sprinter behind me (but managed to avoid both, by using the usual technique of shutting my eyes and screaming), we stop in the services again for a chance to iron the mohawk crease out of the middle of the seat, and a late lunch at a friendly Maccy D.

This is also our last fuel stop before we get home (these are mainly for Dave's benefit, you understand - the rest of us are only filling up a half-tank at a time). So we all get back to the cars to move round to the petrol station. I turn the key, it turns over easy enough, but it doesn't start. This is so unusual that I immediately start to wonder if I am somehow out of fuel. I try again. Same again. By this time, the others have left the car park, except for Dave who comes past, so I give a wee toot to let him know that "I may be some time" as Captain Oates would say.

Try again - and it jumps into life as if there had never been any problem... weird. I drive round to the petrol station, panic a bit in case it doesn't start again (it does) and then we're off on the last leg of our journey (or on our last legs, whichever you prefer).

Progress is again reasonable, except where we get stuck behind a huge lorry on the single carriageway section around Berwick. He's quickly overtaken over the first quarter mile of dual carriageway, and then we're off again.

Right up until we come to a set of roadworks, where we are all warned that the road narrows. In my mirror, I see a different lorry behind Dave suddenly pull out as if to pass, in the last few feet before the cones narrow to one lane. I think that he's maybe dozed off and swerved to avoid an accident, but I learn later that it was an attempt to go around Dave to fit in the gap that you normally leave for braking and boring shit like that. This results in a mobile discussion of intelligence, parentage and sexual proclivity.

Anyway, once clear of the roadworks, we're soon off again, to the Edinburgh City Bypass, which is heaving at this time, so we can't really keep our group together.

I thought we were going to stop to say cheerio to Hugh, but he breezes past with a wave, I turn down the slip road behind Jim, he turns off towards home, and our adventure just kinda fizzles out. It wasn't like this in Lord of the Rings.

A mile or so later, I see the back of the queue for another set of roadworks that I did know about - this queue is about 2 miles. Right at the back of it, there's a tiny side road, that's a wee bit tortuous, but basically runs parallel to the main road for about 5 miles - ie past those bloody roadworks. This wee road is surprisingly deserted, and I am able to make reasonable progress (which is almost mandatory, I am bursting for a pee) and I get around those roadworks in only a couple of minutes.

So that's me home - about 650 miles, no problems, in my brilliant wee car. What a fantastic weekend, again. AND - it didn’t rain (much) while we were driving, so that’s a bonus!

Unfortunately, I don't have time tonight to take it back along to the farm, so I park it against the garage door and park the Range Rover up against it so that (a) you can't see it from the main road and (b) you've got two-and-a-half tonne of Range Rover to drag out of the way to get to it, and you're not going to manage that without waking me up in the room next to the drive.

:: Tuesday, April 12, 2016 ::

So it rained overnight, and when I get in to take the car along the road, the seats are wet. Interesting... When I get it parked in the barn, I take the panels off, and all the seals are dry - but there is no beading of water on the roof fabric, so I think it just needs cleaned and waterproofed again. Probably.

:: Thursday, April 22, 2016 ::

Today I decided that I would mostly check over the ignition and sensors, to see if I can make this uneven idling any better.

It didn’t go well.

The car’s along at the farm, and my tools and stuff are all here, so I went out to the garage yesterday and sorted out all the stuff I would need to take with me - spark plug spanner, feeler gauges, screwdrivers for the distributor cap, stuff to remove and clean out the idle speed valve, voltmeter, and various other odds and sods including a light and some band-aids.

So… arrive at garage. First task - remove and check spark plugs, see if any are oiled up. So I pull off the spark plug leads, and one of them (no 1 cylinder) is a bit stiff, and the lead detaches from the terminal. Bugger. New lead required. See those stupid plastic “spark lead pliers” that everybody laughs at? Well I’m not fuckin laughing now…

I get 5 of the plugs out ok. The last one (or really, the first one) is tucked under the alternator bracket, and I have a special plug socket to get that one out. Except it’s back at the house, 4 miles away…

Cylinders 5 and 6 (the back 2 on the left side of the engine) look as if they are running a bit rich - they are a shade darker than the rest. Not bad, but noticeable. I have 3 new plugs with me (the “overspill” when you keep having to buy packs of 4 plugs for a 6-cylinder engine), so I put those in on that side.

Then I take off the distributor cap, and swap it for a new one. My car has the Motorcraft distributor with SAE terminals (in other words, the terminals on the distributor end are the same as the spark plug end) and those leads can be hard to find. I don’t know if a Bosch distributor cap will fit (because that gives you standard DIN connections at the cap).

OK… next I remove the idle speed valve and give it a clean out with carburettor cleaner, and refit it with my “side of a cat food box” gasket and a smear of sealant.

I was going to check the idle speed and the ignition timing, but I can’t, until I start the car - and I can’t do that until I get another plug lead.

So it’s back home to check my spares to see if I have a plug lead, The answer is yes, but they have that DIN connector so won’t fit. So I have to trawl the old internet till I can buy the right ones.

:: Saturday, April 30, 2016 ::

The new spark plug leads arrived on Wednesday. So I nip down to Halfords to buy another pack of spark plugs. Except I discover that their stock of spark plugs now only covers half a panel, of the most popular applications, and Ford Granadas with taper seats aren’t among them. Special order only.

Never mind - up to the motor factors. Same again - but at least they can get them in for Thursday. This is still a pain because I won’t have time on Thursday to get them, and Friday looks kinda full with work and stuff. I have to get the car ready for a wee club run on Sunday so it’s not looking good. The car’s along at the farm so I can’t even just “pop out to the garage for a bit” - it needs a full expedition.

Anyway, today I look at the pile of work I need to do, and and say “fuck it” and take all my stuff along to the farm, where the car is.

I gap the new plugs and put them in - a task that’s getting increasingly difficult as I appear to by dying from the left hand sideways. It’s constantly sore and a wee bit numb. Tests are in progress!

Then I replace all the plug leads one at a time (no scope for mixing them up here!), check everything else is in place, and it starts!

I leave it to warm up for a bit, while I tidy up tools and stuff, then take it out for a wee test drive. It seems to be running a lot smoother, and no wee hesitation when you first press the accelerator.

I drive it back to the house, and go back to the farm in the Porsche, put that in the shed, and come home in the Range Rover. Yes I know it’s complicated but it does make sense. In my head, at least.

With the car at home, I adjust the idle speed using a digital rev-counter, not the “dial-a-guess” built into the car’s dashboard, and that helps a bit as well.

Now, although it’s sunny and even reasonably “warm” (as opposed to yesterday when it snowed), all this TVR preparation and cleaning guarantees one thing. It will be pishing rain tomorrow. With that in mind, I need to re-waterproof the roof, so I clean the roof fabric with an autoglym kit. There’s a cleaner with a sponge - spray it on, rub it in, rinse it off. I wipe it dry (well it’s still damp but that’s ok) and then spray on the waterproofer and leave that to dry.