:: Diary - September 2008 ::

:: Sunday, September 7, 2008 ::

There's been no arrangements for meeting up before the Car Club meeting this month. Dave and Jim are away down to the Big Northern Gathering in Newcastle, and I haven't heard from Mike, although I know that he was thinking about BNG as well. I give the car a quick wash (nothing too elaborate because it looks like it's going to rain) and decide to nip by Mike's house to see if he's being allowed out to play.

It turns out that he's forgotten that the meeting has been changed to the Sunday, so isn't ready - he's busy playing in his garage. After a brief chat I realise that I'm not getting on for 45 minutes late, so no time for a run before the meeting (as I had planned) so I blooter straight there.

Not many cars there today - a combination of the weather not looking too promising, people being or holiday or at BNG, and possibly also the change to the Sunday. I think there were 8 cars in total. The Goodwood Revival comes up in conversation, and I am persuaded to give it a go...

I have a nice run back, and the rain stays off until I am about 3 miles from home, so I stop to put the roof back on. I haven't been using the car very often recently (apart from runs to meetings or shows) because the weather this year has been absolutely pish. Every time I use the car, it rains at some point, and I don't like putting it away wet in the garage because the ventilation isn't great. I was planning to take it to the garage today but again, I end up parking in the drive way where at least the howling wind helps prevent condensation.

:: Saturday, September 20, 2008 ::

First real breakdown today.

Driving home along the motorway, thinking to myself that there seemed to be a bit of a flat spot at low revs. As I turned onto the slip road, the engine management light came on and the car lost even more power. By the time I got to the top of the slip road and onto the dual carriageway, the car was barely moving - we're talking 20mph top speed here - on a 50mph dual carraigeway populated by a high proportion of drivers practicing for the next blind-driving world record.

I coast to a stop in the top of a slip road and call the RAC. The patrol arrives in 30 minutes and after another 20 minutes, diagnoses the car undriveable, so it needs a lift to a garage. Another 30 minutes wait for the tow truck to arrive, then a 20 minute drive to the garage. So far, that's 2 hours.

I did mention that this is the Lexus, right? The TVR is fine...

They arrange a replacement hire car, and give me a lift to the car hire place to collect it - it's a Mercedes C-Class something or other (it has no badges, no handbook and no indication at all of what size, spec or anything). It's a petrol engined automatic - is all I know. It's very nice though.

My own car should be ready on Wednesday.

When I get home I remove the rear numberplate from the TVR (the few bits that it hasn't removed itself - it's hanging off). I put 7 sticky pads on it (3 are supposed to be enough) and stick it back on. I manage to get it stuck flat, but I realise that it's actually very slightly too wide for the space it has to fit into - only by a mm or 2 but just enough to make it difficult to stick flat. I decide to take it off and file it down a bit, but this time it's stuck fast. Fine, I'll just leave the bloody thing then.

:: Sunday, September 21, 2008 ::

Woke up to a find the sun shining brom a nice blue sky, no clouds, no rain. That's the last time I'm going to fall asleep in the garden. Anyway, I decide to have a nice morning run seeing as the weather is nice.

The car sounds great since I cleaned up the injectors and then filled it with V-power.

When I get home I decide to slightly adjust the bonnet hinges because it doesn't open very well. I need to take my time and do it properly over the winter, but I'll be happy with a slight adjustment at the moment. When I have finished, the bonnet at least opens without having to run round the car twice.

As I put my stuff away, I notice that the back number plate is coming off again. Right ya b*****d! I take the plate back off, and note that it's not flat - it has a pronounced s-bend along its length. Sod it, I need a new one! Then I remember that when I put the personal reg on in August 2003, I got plates made up by Halfords, but they only do the "standard size" - but the standard plate width doesn't fit into the boot recess, so I got another one made up at the time, but it doesn't have the maker's name or the appropriate BS code so is strictly speaking, illegal.

The regulations don't specify a "standard size" - they only say that you must have a certain minimum distance of yellow border around the letters. A quick rummage around the shed unearths the original Halfords one. I'd even stuck sticky pads onto it before I found that it didn't fit. I score the front of the plate, about 5mm from each end, and then hacksaw the two ends off. 5 minutes with a hand file rounds off the corners and chamfers the front edges. Perfect!

I check that it fits (it does, with a few mm to spare) then stick it in place.

:: Saturday, September 27, 2008 ::

I ordered a replacement anode for the Rust Stop thing - the rear one fell off with a lump of Hammerite months ago, and I forgot to order a replacement. Once the wiring is in place, fitting the anode itself is easy - clean the Hammerite on the rear chassis leg, make a small scratch down to bare metal, then stick the anode on and connect the wire with a small screw. Then I connect it up again under the bonnet and that's it.

I have a small car show tomorrow and the car is manky (it's still sitting outside!) so I give it a wash, and clean the wheels as well.

Finally, I put some Rain-X on the outside of the windows, just to help to keep them clear in wet weather (and to prolong the life of the wiper mechanism which is, shall we say, fragile at the best of times, and also, shall we say, a right pain in the arse to replace.

:: Sunday, September 28, 2008 ::

Meet up with another 3 owners to drive to the car show. It's not that far away but we have to be there by 10am. As it turns out, we're there by just after 9, and there aren't many cars there at that time.

As it turns out, there aren't many cars there by 10am or 11 am either - there's us, a Jaguar Club, a Mini club, a club apparently devoted to "classic" BMWs all of which are newer than my last oil filter. Quite a few of the owners have similarly low mileage. The show is at an air museum though so there are other things to see and do, including a sweetie stall on one side, an ice cream van on the other and a burger van opposite. I think I'm going to like it here.

The car attracts a fair bit off attention (surprising when people will have already been over-awed by a line of boggo-standard BMWs eh?) and I spend half my time talking about it to grown-ups, and the other half letting wee lads sit in it and hear the engine.

We are parked near the monster truck display, which turns out to be pretty good. I manage to contain my excitement enough to remember to buy another bag of sweeties on my way back to the car.

Towards the end of the day, we have a look around one of the last surviving Concordes - we've been there as a club before, but I never cease to be amazed at it - it was so far ahead of its time (and in many ways still is) and you wouldn't be able to do something like that today - by the time you'd completed your design audits and safety checks and risk assessments, nobody would take a chance and build it. And even if somebody wanted to, there would be no money - investment is poured into adventure holidays for disadvantaged car-nickers, or to support an Albanian slate-nailer's 250 relatives that he has to bring with him as support before he can even start to look for a job, etc etc. Concorde is the last of its kind, and I remember watching its first flight live from Tolouse when I was a kid, and its last flight from Edinburgh just a few years ago. It will be a long time, if ever, before there's something like that again.

Dave and Jim decide to finish off the day by having a go on the kids quad bikes over behind us. One of the bikes appears to be suffering from some mechanical malady and is nowhere near as fast as the other - so the race turns out to be as equal as a gazelle versus a penguin pulling a skip.