She really is a tinker that Jezebel. For the best part of a month now she has sat idly by outside the house whilst I searched in vain for a new engine. With the diagnosis that the big end is going, I was led to believe that the only solution was a new engine of some sort. With the alternator problems too, I felt that taking her anywhere was just asking for trouble. So, with 2 weeks off work, not enough cash to buy any sort of engine, I had busied myself with insulating the interior, sulking, tinkering and cleaning. At least she was warm and clean inside now, albeit lacking in certain equipment. Seat belts, fridge, units and flooring still to go in. Can't do them without a bit of Hairyman welding on the floor, can't get it to Hairyman without new alternator and engine. Hence the sulking. Even the cat wouldn't come near enough to let me kick it.
Finally, with a pocket full of used notes in small denominations, I took a trip out to Crossways to collect the engine they had put to one side for me. It was a scruffy looking lump of rusty machinery and I wondered quietly to myself if this was really £500 worth. I was just about to load it in to the back of the car when one of the young flunkies said "it was water cooled you wanted wasn't it?". It wasn't. Damn. I headed home to look for the cat again.
So, a few days later, a phone call to Ollie to see if he had located a second hand air cooled T25 engine anywhere. It seems it is easier to track down the right testicle of a unicorn. Probably cheaper too. He did however suggest that if I brought the van out to him the next day, he would listen to it and see if it was the big end or something less excruciatingly expensive. Ahhh, panic ! 24 hours to get her working well enough to get out to Crossways. I hadn't yet got further than 5 miles without a break down before and now she was slouched outside on a slope with supposedly a terminal condition and no functioning alternator.
I went out for a quick tinker. My mechanical knowledge consists of knowing where to put the oil and how to jiggle spark plugs. I did both then tried to turn her over. No joy. I tried to bump start her down the hill. No joy. I was now parked across a junction at the bottom of the slope. I tried the key. She fired up immediately and ran smoothly. How ????
A gentle (very gentle) drive around the village suggested that whatever her issues were, they were possibly just imaginary. A drive in to work the following day also went smoothly. After work I psyched myself up, jumped in, set the stereo to loud and set off for Crossways. It was all going swimmingly, all the way out there.
Ollie went straight to business. He hadn't even spoken to me before his head was in the back of the van, prodding and poking about in the engine bay. "She doesn't smell good" he said. I was a bit hurt after all that cleaning. It turned out he meant the engine and the fumes it was producing though. Well, the verdict was indeed favourable. She needed a good service, fresh oil, new filter, new plugs and points and the timing was out by several hours. Not the big end. Probably. The end is fine !
So, with this pleasant news giving me a warm and happy feeling in my back pocket, I jumped back in and turned the key. It barely turned over. After 5 minutes of turning it over I admitted defeat and went to sheepishly ask to borrow a booster.
On the way home, cruising at a steady 40mph on the flat, I started losing power rapidly. Changing down the gears and pushing the accelerator right down did nothing as my speed bled away to nothing and I crawled in to a bus stop. Filled with pessimism, I gave the ignition a quick turn and she fired up immediately as though nothing had happened. She repeated her amusing little trick twice more before we got home. As I said, she is a little tinker.
So, we are booked in for a service next week. I can finally get her over to Hairyman to fix the floor holes and the roof rams. Who knows, she might, just might, be in a fit state to go camping next week. Now, that would be amazing, wouldn't it ?
