Today the Sporting Bears are doing Dream Rides at a show in Northumbria. We have attended the show many times, but this is the first time we have tried Dream Rides.
I set off late yesterday morning, in the company of Jim, Dave and Hugh, who are going to the same show in their TVRs - the event has been declared a national event for the S-Series cars so they are keen to go.
I have had a shot at fixing those leaky valve covers, and it's better than it was, but it's still not right. Can't do much about that now - but I do pack my remaining 1/2 tin of oil, plus 2 different types of gasket (rubber and cork) in case running repairs are necessary.
Which is just as well. About 40 miles down the road, just before we get to Berwick, we have to stop at roadworks. Just as the car stops, the il light comes on - I knock it into neutral, switch the engine off and use the last little bit of momentum I have, to bump up onto the verge alongside the queue.
The engine is covered in oil - well on the outside, at least. Inside, the dipstick barely registers. The right-hand gasket seems to be the main culprit, so I undo the 4 clamp bolts, and remove the old rubber gasket.
Now, there's a bit of a debate about the best gaskets to use - there are forums and videos on you-tube that say that cork gaskets are the dog's bollocks, and you don't need anything more fancy. Many others says that cork gaskets are a waste of time, so you should use rubber ones. There are soft rubber ones, hard rubber ones, and rubber ones with a metal insert. I've tried all the rubber varieties (oooh-er missus!), and they have all leaked. So, with nothing to lose, I'm going to use a cork one this time.
I clean up the mating surfaces and spray-glue the gasket to the cover (to make sure it stays in place and the holes line up). Then I put it on and clamp it down. I empty my 2 litres of oil into the engine, plus 1/2 a litre from Dave and 1/2 a litre from Jim. It's 1/2 way up the dipstick so that will have to do!
We continue down to our lunch stop, where we play "spot the odd one out".
We fill up with fuel and I also buy another tin of oil, and top up to "full" on the dipstick. The level is still going down though, so it's still leaking - as evidenced by the fact that the underside of the car is covered in oil - sacrificial rustproofing I call that...
On we go, to Newcastle and our hotel for the evening. There is still an oil slick dripping under the car, but the level hasn't gone down much on the last leg... it still needs topped up though.
So that brings us to today, show day!
We set off the 13 miles to the show, the guys following me, and me following my sat net - which takes us in a BIIIIIG circle along the same bit of road twice. Don't know why, but I stop to remind it that we are actually trying to go somewhere, and it shrugs and starts to behave, and gets us to the back of the queue to enter the show.
I filter off to go to the Sporting Bears stand, where I am parked up beside the others. First task is to go over to the trade stands and buy another 5 litres of oil in case I need it to get back home. Oh, and I spot some red gasket sealant as well.
My passengers are trying to whip the crowds up into a frenzy...
Things are quiet at first, until people start to realise that they can actually go out in these cars, for a charity donation. I get my first drive with a dad and son, who both enjoy the run. I don't, because half-way round, it starts to misfire because that No 7 spark plug is obviously piling up again... never mind, I'll change it before my next run...
Except that when I get back, there's another couple already waiting. I pile them in and drive around the full route. They are happy as larry, but I can only hear that misfire. Never mind, I'll change it before my next run...
Except that when I get back, there's another family already waiting - so I take them out.
And another!
By this time, a lot of people are leaving, and our bit of the showground is dead as a dodo.
My expert pit crew have a quick look and change that spark plug and top up the oil again.
I have more or less sorted the oil leak on one bank of cylinders, but the other is still weeping slightly. I decide to fix that when we stop for a break, up the road.
So I drive over to the TVR stand to meet up with my TVR pals. Spot the odd one out again.
Then we set off… half a mile up the road, Hugh’s car boils over in spectacular style. Cue an unexpected stop… for 2 and a half hours while we diagnose the problem, which was a bit easier after he casually mentions that it had overheated on the way in to the show, so he had taken the rad cap off to check there was water in. 5 seconds later, after a Vesuvius of boiling water, he knew there definitely wasn’t… So he waited till it was cooled, and filled up the radiator… sorted, thinks he… as I say, it lasted half a mile…
So we diagnose that the fan isn’t working, the cause of that overheating in the first place - it works if you take a straight wire from the battery, but not through the car’s wiring. OK, with the fan now jury-rigged and working, let’s start it up.
Straight back to boily-boily… but the radiator and pipes are freezing. We’ve got a mahoosive air lock in the system (boily water makes steam when you release the pressure suddenly, and it doesn’t all go 40 ft up in the sky, some gets caught in wee corners of the system…) So we send Jim off to beg water from some unsuspecting householder, while we remove hoses etc to let the air out.
With the system properly refilled, all is good. It’s now after 7pm, and we’re half a mile up the hill from the showground…
First stop, fuel - I’ve used all mine doing Dream Rides. So it’s along to BP in Hexham, where we also buy a sandwich, and I fix the other valve cover gasket while we’re waiting…
It's very important to check the mating surfaces carefully...
Right, it's now half-past eight, but everything is finally all sorted, we’re off!
We have a brief stop at the petrol station in Jedburgh so he can buy some sweeties. Then I stop again, in the lay-by just as you come off Soutra Hill at Fala, to make sure everybody is all right. When we set off again, it’s nearly 11 pm. When I say “we set off”, I mean “the other 3 set off, my Chevy won’t go…” they come back when they realise that there’s not a lumbering tank in the rear view mirror By this time, the will to live has shuffled away silently into the surrounding countryside, and I’m too worn out to be bothered with all this nonsense so I phone a tow truck.
He arrives just after midnight, and gets me home at 1am, reversing this enormous truck into the drive without my neighbours even noticing… yeah right…
And did my loyal friends desert me? After 15 years of trials and tribulations together, where I have helped to patch up their cars so we can count them all home safely? Well, as a matter of fact, they did, the bastards…
So here I am, home the next day, after a day of adventure and excitement. It doesn't get better than that...
