:: Diary - Jun 2017 ::

:: Friday, June 16, 2017 ::

We are setting off for our annual S-s-scottish S-Series S-s-sightseeing tour tomorrow. I have carefully prepared the car by completely ignoring it for a fortnight since its MOT. Oh yeah… meant to look at those brakes didn’t I? Forgot about that. Oh well. I’ll do it when I get back…

I do, however, spend a rather extravagant 2 hours cleaning it.

:: Saturday, June 17, 2017 ::

So we’re off! After a quick fuel stop, I am meeting up with the others at a retail park on the edge of Edinburgh (since our normal Maccy D is closed for refurbishment). I am meeting Dave and Jim, along with John, and also Michael from Prestick, who has been at the last couple of TVR Club meetings.

While we are exchanging our usual salutations, I notice a wee wet bit under the car. It’s fuel, it seems that the sender is leaking slightly when the tank is full. There are two possible remedies:
1. try to repair it; or
2. burn off some fuel so that it’s below the level of the sender.

So we set off on stage 1 of our excursion, toward our first coffee stop (which has been pre-planned rather than our usual “let’s stop when we see somewhere”).It’s only about 40 minutes down the road. Jim can’t last much longer than that, although there is a short delay while Michael cleans the flies off his car.

Soon we’re off again, heading towards Morpeth where we are meeting Ian. We stop in a lay-by, although there is a short delay before we set off again, while I go to the loo and Michael cleans the flies off his car. I do contemplate buying Jim a Top-Gear-Style gift of a clay chiminea, but decide against it.

We head through Morpeth to a very nice pub, where we are all keen to get fed, although there is a short delay while Michael cleans the flies off his car.

Soon, we’re ready to set off again, with Ian in the lead this time, because he’s from around here. Unfortunately, he hasn’t fully absorbed Routemaster Dave’s carefully-planned road maps, so we’re soon going in circles trying to get back on “the route”.

After a nice twisty bit of road, we reach a cafe high in the hills for cakes and more drinks, although there is a short delay while Michael cleans the flies off his car.

Then it’s onwards to our first night stop in Carlisle, after a superb hairpin descent from the cafe, although I can hear my brakes just starting to grumble. We arrive at the hotel and park up before we head in to reception to check in, although there is a short delay while Michael cleans the flies off his car.

Dinner time passes in the usual mix of piss-taking and banter, and enough food to feed an army, then it’s time for beddy-baws.

:: Sunday, June 18, 2017 ::

Up nice and early to give the cars a wipe-over, and clean off any flies that might have accumulated yesterday. There are a few.

Then it’s back in for a light 3-course breakfast, pack up the bags, and get ready for day 2, which involves following the north side of the Solway Firth to Portpatrick, near Stranraer. I’ve never been there before, but apparently it’s nice. We manage to follow Dave’s route, more or less, and it’s all very pleasant, apart from some nut job who decides to overtake in a space that’s too short, and ends up having to pull back in, in a cloud of tyre smoke and shit stains.

We find that the town is absolutely heaving when we arrive. We manage to get parked, eventually, then it’s time for a wander around and a very nice lunch, although there is a short delay while Michael cleans the flies off his car.

Then it’s off again, through Stranraer, where you descend a hill going into the town. My brakes are making more and more noise, every time I use them (not intermittently like before) so I need to look at that as soon as possible.

For now, though, all I can do is keep up with the convoy up the west coast from Stranraer to Ayr, although keeping up is made more difficult by a wee red Fiat Punto which slows down to sloth-like speeds for every bend, but boots it up the straight bits, just enough to make overtaking a pain in the arse. We manage it though!

Again, the scenery is lovely, although most of my concentration, now, is focussed on not using the brakes any more than I have to.

Our overnight stop will be in Prestwick, where Michael lives, so they have decided to go home instead of the hotel, so they disappear up the road while the rest of us are trying to negotiate the Fiat. The rest of us stop in a tiny cafe in Maidens, near Turnberry, for a wee refreshment, before we head up through Maybole and Ayr.

When we arrive at the hotel, I jack the car up and take off one of the front wheels. The inside pad is down to the metal. Oh… that explains the noise then. Not a lot I can do about it here, I need to decide whether to go straight home tomorrow, or go round the rest of the route. We discuss this during our dinner, and since my choice is between around 120 miles with them, or 60 miles straight home, I decide the extra 60 miles isn’t going to make much difference at this stage.

:: Monday, June 19, 2017 ::

The condemned man ate a hearty breakfast. Well, 2 hearty breakfast, to be accurate…

We pack up, then we head off to meet up with Michael at Nardini’s famous ice cream shop in Largs. Braking is now accompanied by a racket like somebody taking a grinder to a screaming Dalek, so I only use the footbrake twice in the whole journey.

When we are parked up, this Australian bloke arrives, saying he’s been on holiday in Scotland for 3 weeks, and these are the first “real cars” he has seen. He is wearing the usual tourist dress, of jeans that have absorbed so much grease that they could probably stand up themselves, huge steel toe-capped boots (with the toe-caps worn through), and a biker t-shirt. Apparently, he owns 11 cars and 19 motor bikes, of various vintages. I don’t half attract them, somehow…

Our ice cream elevenses are very pleasant, then it’s onwards again, to Gourock for the wee ferry to Dunoon.

Michael chooses a diversion from the planned route, along a wee twisty single-track road with passing places. I’m not a fan of those at the best of times, because more than half of the drivers you meet, don’t know how to use passing places properly (or at all), or that you need to be able to stop in HALF of the distance you can see (because the driver coming the other way needs the other half, or even more of he’s as dopey as most).

With noisy brakes, it’s a fucking nightmare. 3 corners in, and the brakes are howling. Another 3 corners, and I just can’t keep up with the pace Michael is setting (it’s doubtful that I would keep that pace on this road even with super-brakes and retro-thrusters). I have to stop. Dave stops with me, because he’s not as bad as everybody thinks. Not quite.

After a wee brake-cooling break, we set out to catch the others, who are waiting up the road. Then it’s onwards to Strachur, then around Loch Long to Tarbet, and a late lunch at Inverbeg. Michael heads off home from here, so now we are down to the 3 vaqueros.

We set off for the last 80 miles home, through Balloch and Stirling. In those 80 miles, I use the foot brake 5 times, and one of those times was only because I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to. Driving along with people that you know so well, with a similar driving style of reading the road to minimise braking, makes it easy.

So - we survived, and it was yet another great TVR weekend. I put the car away in the garage, ready for a closer inspection later.

:: Tuesday, June 20, 2017 ::

Right, let’s survey the damage to these brakes.

I jack the car up onto axle stands, and take the wheel off. Do I need to explain how to strip the brakes? Oh ok then but briefly, ok?

First step - loosen the brake hose slightly, but don’t take it off (you can’t unwind a braided brake hose at one end, with the calliper still in place).

Then remove the plastic caps and use a 7mm allen key to remove the two slide pins holding the pads in. Don’t lose any springs or clips holding the pads in place.

Pull the calliper off the disk, complete with pads. You will probably have to use a strong screwdriver to lever the piston back a wee bit to get the pads off the edge of the disk. You might have to lever quite hard if one of your callipers is partly seized. Ask me how I know…

Then wind the whole calliper off the brake hose, and put a “stopper” on the end of the hose - I use a short bit of closed-off brake pipe with a female connector.

Then remove the caliber carrier from the hub - it’s held on with two very tight 17mm bolts.

That then lets you slide the disk off the hub. Or pound it off with the biggest hammer you can lift, if you’ve already established that it’s scored to shit and therefore not re-usable.

Right, an inspection at this stage shows that on one side, the calliper has been sticking on the sliders and therefore the inside pad has been doing all the braking, and is worn down to the metal, with serious scoring of the inside of the disk.

On the other side, the piston is partially seized - it moves out, but doesn’t retract easily, so has been sticking on. That has worn both pads, but again, especially the inside. The disk is scored, not as badly, but bad enough.

So I only need new pads, callipers and disks. Apart from that, the front brakes are fine…

At around this time, Dave phones to ask how I am getting on. I explain that I need a couple of bits, or ten. He has a pair of callipers, and a set of new pads that he took off his car, when he upgraded to bigger front brakes, so he brings them up. They have been sitting around for a wee while, and a wee test with the air compressor and a block of wood shows that one of them is a wee bit sticky but the other is ok. Should be able to put something together between the 4 of them!

I order a pair of new brake disks, only to realise that they have to come from Germany, which takes a week…

:: Wednesday, June 21, 2017 ::

I strip one of Dave’s callipers, the one that’s a wee bit sticky. First I pop the piston out with the compressor and a thinner bit of wood, and clean out all the old brake fluid with a cloth and then brake cleaner. I remove the piston seal and clean up the piston, till it’s shiny. A bit of brake fluid to replace the seal (right way round!) and then refit the piston with more brake fluid to lubricate, and a lot of footering around with the outer dust seal. Another air compressor test shows it’s working fine.

Then I plug the brake inlet with an old male connector, and set about stripping the paint off the caliper - Dave had them in red, which suits his red car. It’s a matter of taste, but I don’t like the look of red brakes on a blue car, so I’m going to re-paint them, and that’s easier before you put them on the car.

Then I clean up the caliber on the other side - it’s working fine so doesn’t need to be rebuilt. I also clean up the carriers that bolt to the hub.

With that all done, I paint them in a light blue Hammerite, with a second coat after an hour or so, and leave them to dry.