:: Diary - September 2011 ::

:: Friday, September 2, 2011 ::

I've realised that I haven't used the S since the July TVR meeting - that's 2 months. I haven't used the Cerbera much either, come to that, but I need to decide which to take to the club meeting on Sunday. The Cerbera is at the house, the S is along at the farm...

Dave phoned yesterday morning though, and says that he's trying to get a few new S owners along, together with most of the regulars - we're going for a record attendance. That makes up my mind about which car to take, then...

So today I take the Cerbera along to the farm. and extract the S from the barn. 2 months and it starts instantly... Jumping straight out of one and into the other emphasises how basic and direct the S is - it's brilliant!

When I get back to the house, I give it a wash (I think my dust sheet must be disintegrating underneath - the car has got more dust on it than it would have if I'd just left it uncovered). I have to spend a fair bit of time cleaning the windscreen - it's a bleeding mess after the work on resealing the edge.

:: Saturday, September 3, 2011 ::

A few wee jobs to do on the S today. First I finish cleaning the windscreen, then I remove the drivers side mirror, which keeps coming loose. I take the mounting apart and fit a wee star washer between the mirror and the housing, and screw it asll together again. That seems to do the trick.

I check the oil and water. The dipstick repair I did a few months ago is coming apart again. I think I'll need to buy a new one. I realise this at 12.34, and the Ford parts counter down the road shuts at 12.30 on a Saturday.

I clean the wheels up, then I clean the seats, because the passenger one is marked (I don't know what's marked it, but it comes off easily so no worries).

I really need a new brake servo - the bottom of this one is rusty. It's not falling apart just yet but I'll change it over the winter. That will also get rid of the silly remote master cylinder arrangement, which takes up space and also risks the connecting hoses going hard in the exhaust heat, and then failing.

I also need to put fuel in, because the last time I used it, I did the last 30 miles with the gauge on empty. I did put a gallon in since, but it's still obviously pretty low - the gauge is still at zero! I need to fill up before I meet the guys tomorrow.

:: Sunday, September 4, 2011 ::

It's the first Sunday of the month, so that means - it's TVR Car Club day! It's dry. It's even sunny. It's summer!

So... I extract the S from the garage with the fuel gauge still on empty from the last time I used it. So the first stop is the petrol station. I did try to go yesterday, but the queue at Morrisons was out of the car park and onto the roundabout, so I drove past. Why do people see "oh that petrol is 1p cheaper than the petrol station up the road" and then drive the extra mile to get there, and then sit in a queue for 15 minutes with the engine idling, so they use about half a gallon extra to save 50p on a tankful? I suppose it keeps you out of the house and off grass-cutting duties, but still...

Anyway, with fuel topped up, I set off to meet the others. A mile down the road, the gear knob comes loose again... bastard.

When I get to Dave's, I borrow a hex key and tighten the knob back on.

The others arrive so we have a touring party of 7 this time! Julie has brought her S1 (the one Dave and I looked at a few months ago) and David has brought another S1 along for the first time, plus Steve who was last month's "new boy", and then of course there's the usual 4 suspects. Once we've fixed Julie's bonnet catch, we're ready to go.

Jim decides that the official photo needs a little extra height. Either that or he was trying to get a preview of the route ahead.

And so we set off in convoy. Once again we encounter the "40 everywhere" club (who teaches these bastards to drive?) and then a trio of police motorbikes at Kincardine Bridge, who seem to be following our route (2 of them are in front so I'm sure it's a coincidence).

After we arrive, Hugh, James and another new boy called Ian arrive - so that's 10 S Series at one club meeting - a new record for us!

There's also a Cerbera, a Griffith, two wedges and 6 Chimaeras, so it's a well-attended meeting. Despite arriving 4th or something, I am last to order my lunch. There is a perfectly simple reason for this. I was outside gittering pish.

Five different people ask if I've been ill - just because I haven't updated the web site for 3 weeks. So it's become apparent that I have to work on the cars regularly or everybody thinks I'm dead. I don't know if I can live with the responsibility. It's killing me.

Anyway, soon it's time to head home. We form up in convoy - two have already left, so there's the original 5 plus Hugh (part route) plus Adrian who only lives 3 miles away but has decided to go home by going right round Scotland anticlockwise. Half a mile after we set off, my gear knob starts buzzing again. Half a mile later and it's loose enough to come off. Bastard. Oh I said that already.

Once again we encounter the "40 everywhere" club (Clackmannanshire Chapter). Hugh and I blast past which at least gives us enough time at the next junction to stop and wait, and for me to get a roll of tape out, wrap it round the gearstick and shove the knob back on. When the others catch up, we are stuck behind the slowest white van man ever (who maintains exactly the same speed through a couple of 30 limits as well), before he finally stops precisely on the narrowest bit of road through a town, blocking traffic in both directions. Clueless... Anyway, we're past, finally getting a bit of open road for about half a mile before we encounter the traffic leaving today's round of the British Touring Cars at Knockhill.

And then it's the last leg home (not that I'm on my last legs yet, you understand - it's a funny language English). I take off all the tape and then tighten up the gear knob with a muckle great screwdriver and a hex bit - if that comes loose then the next step is welding the bloody thing on. Or maybe buying another one.

And then, foregoing the work I have to do, and my dinner, I write up the web site quickly, finishing just before the paramedics arrive, sent by my avid readers so that they don't lose sleep worrying if I got home safely. Bless.

:: Monday, September 5, 2011 ::

Well, the diary was a bleeding nightmare yesterday. I wrote the new page, formatted the photos, and then found that I couldn’t upload them all to the web server, for some reason - it just wouldn't let me on. Being a technical genius (ha!) I managed to upload the files using telnet, a command window and CDOS commands, to bypass the web hosts ftp server. However, opening the site in a web browser brought up a "holding page" and not the normal words of wisdom.

The web space I use isn't free (it used to be, but the uselees gits at Virgin Media managed to lose that when I moved house) so now I pay a webhost company to use their web servers. Yes, dear readers, this service is brought to you free and pro gratis, regardless of costs. The benefit, though, is that there are no advertising sponsors to please, so I don't have to worry about "naming and shaming" or anything like that.

Much investigation showed that the annual subscription for the web host services expired on Saturday, and that they hadn’t processed the “auto-renew” payment until Sunday. An hour or so later, another department had decided that the bill wasn’t paid, so they shut the site down. That also shut down the site for my business as well (all part of the same hosting service) so I wasn’t a happy scone.

2 hours of on-line arguing at the back of midnight (the web server is in the USA so they were still at work!) resulted in no apology, no acknowledgement that they had made any mistake, just a confirmation that the payment had now gone through so they would reinstate my services within 48 hours. I persuaded them that they could do it quicker if they tried (and it would be advisable if they did) so it was all working again by this morning.

And of course, because they were all Americans, they all kept hoping I would "have a nice day". It would have been a lot nicer if you weren't a bunch of lying incompetent bastards.

Still, it's all sorted out now so everybody's happy.

:: Saturday, September 10, 2011 ::

Don't panic! Don't panic Captain Mainwaring! Don't panic! Yes I'm still alive, although I've been very busy with work, but I thought I'd better report in before I'm posted missing presumed pissed.

I was an "expert witness" at a planning appeal yesterday, not the first time I've done it (it must be getting close to 200 by now) but still - each time takes a lot of research, preparation, and loads of meetings with everybody else involved. That's fitted around the "normal" day job so it can get a bit intense. Anyway, it's over for now so... time to start thinking about the next TVR jobs.

The S looks ok on the outside. The engine bay is pretty presentable as well. The chassis is mostly ok, although the front chassis rails and tubes, and the front suspension, could do with a re-paint. The main thing, though, that lets it down is the interior. I did the seats and the centre console, and they look really good, but that has only emphasised how crap the rest of it is. The carpets are stinking and falling to bits, the wood dash (well it's really painted metal, not wood) is peeling badly, with some chips out of it in places. I'm not that keen on the Triumph TR7 switchgear, so I might change them for ordinary "flick" type witches or rockers while I'm doing the wood, or I might just clean them up, or replace them like-for-like. The roof hoop needs cleaned and refinished, the inside trim of the roof targa panels is falling off, and the steering wheel is losing its colour and wearing back to original brown cow colour.

I also want to change the brake servo - mine is rusting on the bottom, and if the diaphragm gets punctured, a chipped dashboard will be the least of my worries. As well as that, mine is the type with a separate reservoir connected to the master cylinder by two rubber pipes, which run close to the exhaust and have been known to harden and crack. Again, not the ideal discovery to make when hurtling towards the arse of an artic.

I have another couple of days out planned for the S later this month, but then, I think that I'll sort all of that over the winter, starting in October. That should fill up the long winter nights eh?

:: Saturday, September 17, 2011 ::

Dave and Jim are heading off to the west coast (of Scotland, not California) to join a group of Wedge owners on the Rusty Nail run. Now I had thought that was a rather unkind refernece to the cars, many of which are in pristine condition, but apparently it's a cocktail made of Drambuie and whisky. I'm still not sure whether you are supposed to drink it or add it to your fuel, and I was afraid to ask. Anyway, I have agreed to go with them for a wee run of 200 miles or so.

So it's out with the S, and down to meet up with the other two at the usual meeting place, after another fuel top-up. he weather isn't looking very promising so naturally we keep the roofs off for the drive through. As you do. I have no idea where we are meeting the rusty nailers - a Premier Inn in Dumbarton is as far as I got, so we're all following Dave. We have a nice run through Stirling, and then along the A811 to come in to the top end of Dumbarton. After a lap of the town, including a pass of Jackie Stewart's dad's garage and their old family house, we finally spot the Premier Inn with a row of TVRs outside, over to the right of the dual carriageway. A U-turn round the roundabout, and now the hotel and TVRs are on the left of the dual caarriageway, but there's no entrance. Another roundabout U-turn, followed by a right turn at the next one, and we're in the car park!

After a bit of a gab, we all set off, with me second from last. I know exactly where the next stop is so I can "sweep up" anybody who gets falls off the back of the group and gets lost. Joining the main road is a bit tricky though because the roundabout has traffic lights on it, that only let about 6 cars out at a time, and there's 12 of us, mixed in with other traffic as well, so it takes 3 cycles of the lights before we're all out, spread over about a mile of the A82 between other traffic.

At least the rain stays off. No wait, that's not right. It pishes down. And we still have roofs off, so it's all a bit of a laugh. I need windscreen wipers on my glasses. There isn't much space for overtaking so we end up spilt from the main group by a VW camper being followed by a Land Rover and then 4 other non-overtakers. Just settle down and enjoy the rain...

We arrive at the first stop and park up for a blether and coffee. And a baguette. Oh and a haggis pasty. Then the organisers kindly hand out a small bottle of the aforesaid "Rusty Nail" as a reminder of our day out. I'll keep it in the car for emergencies. The others disappear, and 4 of us are left blethering in the car park. It's a good job we did faff about, because after about 20 minutes this wee woman from the centre comes away back up to the far corner of the car park, and asks if any of us know Hugh. It turns out that HUgh knows him. He's left his bag on the table, and the shop has phoned his house and spoken to his wife. While the wee woman was walking up the car park, Hugh's wife has phoned Dave's, who phones Dave just as the wee woman arrives. These things can happen, but we are a bit less sympathetic when Hugh starts his next sentence with "The last time I did that here..."

Then the 4 of us head back to Crieff, where we say cheerio to Hugh, and make sure he's got all his stuff. Then we manage to manouevre Jim into the lead for the journey home, which is amusing. Dave very thoughtfully "pre-signals" to Jim at every junction, and then changes his signal as soon as he has sent Jim the wrong way. This happens even at junctions we pass through every month on our way to or from the club meetings.

When I get home, I go and get the Cerbera from the farm and leave the S there. The Cerbera is booked into a rally tomorrow for the Sporting Bears, and Dave is going as well, so he has a night of cleaning ahead.

:: Sunday, September 18, 2011 ::

The alarm clock goes off even earlier today than it did yesterday. I am off to meet Dave and Ron for the drive down to the Borders for the Selkirk Rally, for the Sporting Bears. Extracting a Cerbera from a garage isn't the quietest thing you could be doing at 7am on a Sunday, but hopefully the neighbours understand that it doesn't happen too often. Also, I live at the top of a hill so I can get half a mile from the house before I have to press the really loud pedal.

I've packed 2 bags of bears, and a pair of boots because it's been raining all night, and the field at Selkirk is renowned for two main qualities:
1. its ability to absorb huge amounts of water and turn them into a sea of mud under passing car tyres; and
2. tons of sheep shit left lying about.

I meet up with Dave and Ron near Edinburgh, and we continue southwards through rain and more rain. The roads are really quiet at this time so we make good progress, so I decide that, rather than turn up too early, we'll stop for breakfast at a hotel in Melrose, where we are greeted by the traditional Scottish sight of Latvian waitresses dressed in kilts. The full breakfast is really good (but a wee bit expensive) and we are soon on our way to our soggy shit-strewn pitch at the Rally.

It doesn't take long to nick 6 feet off the next-door stand and put our tents up there before anybody notices. By the time the Rally opens to the public we've got everything laid out and ready.

Despite the rain, we collect a fair bit of money. We are collecting today for the Clowndoctors, and two of the clowndoctors, Dr Squeegie and Dr Molotoff, have agreed to come and help us on the stand. They are absolutely brilliantly silly, and attract loads of people over to see what's going on. They also do a walkabout round the show to meet people and get them to come over.

By the end of the day we've sold a few bears, and also collected a number of donations and contributions. We also win second prize for "best stand at the show" which is great!

We've spent half the show planning how we are going to get out, since our stand is on the other side of the field from the exit, and the intermediate ground now resembles the battlefield at Paschendale after a week of heavy artillery. As it turns out, though, everybody else has had the same idea, so by the time we leave, we are able to remove a few ropes and drive out over the relatively clear display areas rather than the chewed up routes between them, so we get to within a few feet of the exit before hitting the really heavy mud. WIth that cleared, it's onto a tarmac exit, and then the main road (which is also covered in mud for the first half-mile from the exit junction - the Council won't be happy!.

We drive home through pishing rain and trying to hit every half-decent puddle we can see, to wash most of the muck off underneath. The roads are a bit busier so progress is a bit slower than this morning, but at least that makes the puddle-jumping easier and safer.

By the time time I get home, I've done something like 340 TVR miles this weekend, and nothing broke!

I put the car away in the garage. I'll wash it another day. Then I'll have to take it to the farm and bring the S over to the house, and wash that as well, before its next planned outing next week.

:: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 ::

I have a wee TVR trip planned for tomorrow, and I could take either of them - but after thinking about it while I've been on holiday, I've decided to take the S. So today I take the Cerbera along to the farm and bring the S back to the garage at the house.

First I wash it, because it's still manky after the Rusty Nail Run. Then I check the collant and oil levels, tyre pressures etc - she's got a big day tomorrow! It's a first for me, and for the car (as far as I know) so we're both all excited!

:: Thursday, September 29, 2011 ::

Right - this trip. At the end of July I went to Knockhill for one of their Driving Experiences, and had a go in an E-Type Jag. Unlike the last time I went, it was good - the car was good, the instruction was good, and I really enjoyed it. Well, after the Classic Speedfair I went and booked another one - their Performance Driving Course. You get 25 laps under instruction in your own car, and I thought that would be a great way to find out what it was like, and to get to know the track a bit better, if I am going to go on and do trackdays.

I've never really been tempted by trackdays before, for no particular reason I can think of - but since I got the Cerbera, I've realised that it is really too fast to enjoy its full potential on the public road (so is the S, really, but it's a lot closer to "public road" speeds than the Cerbera is).

Anyway - today is the day. I've decided to take the S because I think I'll enjoy it more, even though it's nowhere near as fast - but it just feels much more direct and kart-like.

So off we go, with a fairly uneventful drive there, including a stop for fuel, and a long drag through the new road works on the motorway north of the Forth Road Bridge. All the same, I arrive at the circuit dead early, and register with the desk, and then wander off to watch half of the session before mine. There is a group of 5 Legends (5/8 scale saloon racers, magic wee things!) screaming around, plus a Ferrari V8 (don't know what model, I'm not very good at recognising Ferraris), a Morgan racer, and the Jaguar E-Type all doing experience drives. There are also 3 cars doing the same as me - a Lotus Elise, a Vauxhall Corsa of some description, and a TVR Griffith, which I recognise from our monthly meetings, but I can't remember the chap's name.

Anyway - mid-day arrives, and so does my instructor, fresh from the Elise. I won't go through the 25 laps one-by-one, but suffice to say that it was absolutely bleeding brilliant. My wee car handles like a dream (I forgot to mention that I stiffened up the dampers by a couple of clicks all round) and it sounds fantastic - I even hit the rev-limiter once on the straight, the first time that has happened in all the time I've owned the car! The sound on full chat, bouncing back off the pit wall, is really addictive. But it's not about how fast you can go, the real challenge is in getting it right at each corner for a full lap (never mind a full race!). I've got most of it sort of sussed, except for the hairpin - I either get the entry right but not the exit, or the exit but not the entry, or turn in too early, or too late, or even, on one occasion, in completely the wrong gear. Although it's all a bit smoother at the end of the 25 laps than it was at the start, I don't think I'm quite ready to set pole qualifying time.

I set off for home, and I realise that I'm seeing my wee car in a completely new light - this really is a good wee sports car, and there was me taking it for granted. I've been thinking recently, when driving this car or the Cerbera, that I'm not getting much out of them - that "thrill" isn't what it was. Well, it is now!

When I get home, I park in the drive in the sunshine, and as I walk away, I turn back for a look - and it's like looking back 8 years, and that feeling of not quite believing that you own a car like this. I'm turning into a soppy old git.