Further tales from the Oak

It is always difficult to recognise the mood of Chris. After six pints in Sam’s bar returning to the Oak for ‘expensive indifferent’ beer, a poor, indifferent band can create the tightrope of responses; it becomes a guessing game, what to say, comment or make fun of, to ‘stick or twist’ ‘shit or bust’. Is it better to ‘over reach’ for a new toilet roll when the prospect of the last remaining jobby could quite easily swing from your sphincter falling onto the bathroom floor or to remain seated hoping for a clean nip? With your favourite team leading 2 to 1 with fifteen minutes to go should you drop off with the danger of someone coming through the back door or press on for the third goal? Should I mention that the tonneau may be concluded by Tuesday of next week?  there may be a problem with gearbox? will Young Danny be offered the final buffing job? should the delivery of the ‘Minilites’ be delayed? Will I appear the bearer of bad news; descending swiftly from useful faithful assistant to demanding incompetent child. Does he still want to be included or was the clearing of the garage signalling the disguised ‘full stop’ of the project? Cockney Mick had previously questioned his reliability after having requested the use of a ‘tile cutter’ several months ago Chris could not co-ordinate its pickup. “Could you take it to the pub? Could you wait at home where David could collect it later? Could you leave your business early and bring it to me? Could you pass it on to Lewis?” As time passed the demands increased, confusing Mick as to ‘who was doing the favour for who’; “you either want to borrow the facking machine owa you don’t, I don’t give a shit but make yoa fackin’ mind up!” Lowtie didn’t improve his mood having been asked to discover, via the interweb, the proposed value of a piece of land that once was owned entirely by Chris situated adjacently to his much larger patch.

Chris had beforehand sold the ‘lot’ to Salty as a favour who then typically sold it on to a mutual friend for a sizeable profit. To re-purchase would increase the value of his total lot but at this point he prefers to remain anonymous, enter Lowtie as proxy land speculator. “The bid price is £1600”, claimed John. “You must be out of your mind Lowtie, its worth ten times that!”  John repeated only what he had discovered from the auctioneer but Chris was determined that the value was much higher. Jimmy the Axe didn’t help the situation by stating that if Chris didn’t want it at that price he would ‘bid’ with the prospect of unloading the marshy wasteland to acquisitive Tim Hilton. Lewis showed a commercial interest boldly stating that he could leave all his building materials, debris from renovations, along with two psychopathic Rottweiler’s, to guard all the shit. The situation grew worse when Carlos thought the land was ideal as a hippy community or a staging point for travellers or gypsies. The ground bait had been laid, the ‘swim’ fed, if I was to question Chris’s enthusiasm for the Burlington I could face a pent up tirade of verbal maltreatment, the monkey removing the bung from the fat pig’s arse. I could become ‘Chelsea’ football club post Marinho. Once the most harmless, attractively ineffective football team, the first glamorous pop stars of the game: but, not any more, they have morphed into the most hated, lifting the dubious mantel from Manchester United. 

They have meticulously gathered the largest squad of ‘twats’ that have ever entered the Stamford Bridge. Michael Ballack, epitomising any arrogant, right wing German fucker, Didier Drogba a greedy, moody posturing faker, John Terry an English thug prepared to shag anything with a pulse, Frank Lampard mincing around the pitch like a over painted tart, Alex, a Brazilian misfit branded as the ‘beast’ a moronic Neanderthal employed on the field to enforce. But, the weasel that is the most objectionable is Cashley Cole, a serial cheating arsehole. The club now owned by Russian gangster illicit money, Roman Abramovich lacks any personable principles continues to purchase much of the planet without the care or understanding of actually ‘what to do’ with it.

More importantly, should I ask the questions or not? I think not.   

Another tale from the Oak

                                                        April 2010

Sun.04.04.10. The usual Sunday afternoon at the Oak has been boosted by the swell of overserved foreign drinkers who have swayed down the lane from first, the ‘Bowlie’ then the ‘fast and loose’ tumbling into the Oak on ‘arsehole’ Easter Sunday. Billy and the Tempermentals were gigging: the claim that a turd cannot be polished is obviously untrue! They successfully held both sets together. The wheels nearly came off when they foolishly began to engage the crowd in conversation; a sure sign of drunken on stage behaviour, normally punctuated with a decline into a shambolic dysfunctional tuneless disorder. But they were obviously buoyed by the ‘virgin’ mob who frantically danced and whooped to ‘Irish rock/blues’ numbers. The Doc also resisted his closing thank you speech typified by routinely accusing, finger pointing indictments of ‘don’t forget! this music is free! but there are certain people who even complain about that: there are always takers and givers, knobheads and twats, and they know who they are............well you also know the rest. In fact when the band had finished their second encore the bemused crowd appeared shocked, cheated, prematurely robbed of their final prize, a crumpled bag of winegums.

Even ‘the corner’ was flagging from the excitement of the afternoon. Doctor Dave

having just returned from a ‘dry’ long haul trip, was worse for wear, his mouth operating from side to side instead of the usual up and down; the slurred jibberish falling from the foaming, narrowed slit, totally incomprehensibly. Nevertheless, his stamina is unquestionable lasting well into the early hours of Monday morning sparing melodies with Billy Green to equally robust but small captive audience. Lowtie concluded his most recent shouting contest reckoning that the Doc fosters a bluebottle sanctuary above the bar; occasionally a jail break occurs freeing the creatures sporadically tormenting the drinkers: with practised reflex they immediately cover their beer. Oddly, this phenomenon predominantly occurs during the Winter months. Knocker, now working intensively in Belfast, has subsequently been starved of female company but relentlessly continues to cast his net over the ‘fresh meat’ that had been cunningly attracted by the music. His preposterous bullshit flowed effortlessly reeling in the unsuspecting: the first being Dawn not such an innocent friend of Tracy, the landlords black eyed daughter: she lasted the evening supported by alcohol fuelled by class ‘B’ drugs. 

As the afternoon progressed, adding to the throng, there appeared odd clusters of brightly clad ‘trannys’: manifesting themselves as extra tall women, extra large heads, hands and feet mostly wearing the M and S spring collection. Perhaps there had been some kind of convention at the Bellingham Hotel, the delegates breaking free after an early dinner to experience the delights of the lane. For certain, any potential suitors evaporated as these particular ladies were probably incapable of even ‘dating’ on a male only cruise liner.

Captain Salty was reluctantly present along with Danny Brennan. His dislike of anything more tuneful than Scottish sea shanties is renowned but he still visits, cowardly sustaining the hope that one day the Doc will fall on his sword thus closing the pub enabling him to drag his sycophantic brood to a cleaner sanitised place. I had sold him a case of perfectly ordinary but quaffable chardonnay direct from my local co-operative ‘cave’ in Genouilly. Naturally he ‘of the sensitive’ pallet detected a metallic aftertaste so he felt obliged to rubbish the stuff to anyone who was prepared to listen to his unsubstantiated accusations. 

Subsequently, Danny, who shall obey his master, has cancelled his order reminding me so much of the 820 BMW saga several years before: there’s me foolishly thinking he had developed some kind of spine. Why is it that people blessed with inherited wealth, very little intuitive intellect or earned experience constantly need the safety net of a ‘recognisable’ label. They are unable to trust their own judgement but vigorously condemn cheaper products simply because they are ‘cheap’? Mind you, it is absolutely vital that such ringpieces exist if only as foils for my frustration as a consequence they also balance the good from the bad and ugly.  

Minilites and crash pad

As requested I made a visit to Gabbit and Brown to discuss with Tim the actual specification of the tonneau cover as well as the re-structuring of the cockpit trim. Thankfully he can rescue the existing trim. He has been able to re-cut the hose to eliminate the fierce ‘kink’ on the corner. He proposes to further shave the profile enabling the rubber to sit properly on the dash. The leather will be adhered to the underside of the scuttle to be then wrapped around the hose. This should ensure that the trim will remain firm under the stress of the constant removal of the tonneau. The cover itself will be fashioned from dark green vinyl, the outer panels will be treble skinned to offer greater rigidity, the reinforced zips will bind the unit together. 

Tim estimates the cost to be £370.00 for the tonneau plus an additional cost of £120.00 for the cockpit surround. Hopefully, the work will be completed when I return from France on the 18.03.10. ‘touch wood’ this guy has been a breath of fresh air compared with the lugubrious Mad Michael. The script continues, the pattern set in stone; we only seem to discover the good guys when it is too late.  

Fri.19.03.10. I have contacted Tim regarding the tonneau, typically he has not started the job. He promises to finish the work in two weeks time. Arse and Pierhead immediately spring to mind.

Mon.22.03.10. At last it appears appropriate to investigate the availability of the ‘Minilite’ wheels. Midland Wheels have offered a tasty price of £69.50 for a 15x 5.5 ‘replica’ unit including nuts as well as caps. They also can fit a suitable tyre of 195 45 15 for a total price of an additional £40.00; bringing in the total of £440.00. The alternative approach has been offered by Russell of KN/Minilite the only true manufacturers of the original 1960’s wheel. Russ claims to be the sole producer of the ‘proper’ product, “All the other fakes are made in the far east, fabricated from inferior material”. If I had a ‘pound’ for the number of occasions that I heard that statement I would indeed be a rich man. The identical specification component is somewhat more expensive at £102.00 + VAT making £123.00 for each wheel. If the provenance is as sound as described ‘Minilite’ must have a deal. Perhaps tomorrow having had a ‘chip’ at the price I shall place the order. 

Gabbit and Brown as well as 'closure'.

Fri.05.03.10. Chris has spent most of the morning ‘righting the wrongs’ fashioned at Robinson and Douglas. There was a severe dent in the grill, the rear number plate bracket had been bent, battery retaining bolts misplaced as well as the major ‘ghost’ fault of the electric fan. By 3.00pm I was making the short journey to Mawdesley delivering the Burlington to Tim Brown who can, with any luck, fabricate the tonneau cover. The workshop at Dark Lane is located in a purpose built industrial unit. There are designated spaces for admin’, clean tidy sewing facilities, ample, organised storage of materials, sufficient room for up to six vehicles with an annexe for an additional ten. This place is somewhat of a refreshing undiscovered paradise, not ‘Pontins but ‘Sandals’. Immediately, Tim spotted the shoddy cockpit trim as well as the unsubstantial seat webbing. The job description has now been slightly altered to incorporate the re-trim of the dash component, the specification of which shall be decided tomorrow after further inspection; along with the colour of the cover.

The progress of the past few days has been a revelation. The Burlington is driving better than ever, one of the final integral, massively, important parts, the tonneau, is at long last being undertaken: the project is firmly back on track. Thankfully I now have absolutely no need to contact, or have empty telephone calls, speak in tongues or engage in Vulcan mind games with Michael ever again. He can remain on Mars for as long as he wishes. Result!

Sat.06.03.10. During the morning I was curiously summoned to Standish to ‘deal with’ most of the debris that had been accumulated over the past four years; all of which was amassed in the centre of the workshop at Westmead. Many of the used or unused parts will be saved, stored or simply taken to the municipal tip. Propped up against the walls of the garage were the now familiar worn trestle stands that once supported the chassis originally positioned alongside the adjacent body tub; together with the bright yellow axle stands which were later to become the resting place of the vehicle as she was being built then rebuilt then designed and re-designed. Amongst the pile were discarded, inferior components that had been rejected after being offered up, extra gasket sets, additional gauges, switches and clocks, rubber trim, aluminium extrusions, stainless pipes plus seven boxes of assorted screws, nuts and bolts: the neglected spoils of forgotten labour. 

This clearing out gesture is more than auto cleansing it is an act of closure. Although not present when I packed and removed the various boxes I feel that Chris is drawing a final line, calling time: this is an end to his full blown commitment to the project. I do not have a problem with this action, the time and determined effort displayed by Chris over the past four years, coincidentally to the day, has been utterly remarkable. I am also well aware that I myself have been a little negligent, using the developments in France as an excuse. This day means that a new chapter in the story will now unfold: travelling to where, I do not know. From today the Burlington will be stored at Marylebone.

Fresh hope

The engine was running a little hot but the journey to ‘Steve Lister Tyres Ltd’ was less than a mile. After tracking ‘out’ the offside to then tracking ‘in’ the nearside the vehicle was in perfect alignment both front and rear. The total time was less than ten minutes, the cost £30.00. A few miles down the road Chris waited to examine the more serious problem of the faulty fan. As I arrived at Westmead the water gauge was registering close to three quarters this was becoming a problem. Chris emerged from the front door having heard the engine roaring down the cul-de-sac soon to pull up onto the drive. After securing the battery terminals thus eliminating the danger of ‘shorts’ that could potentially ignite the entire wiring loom his attention focussed on the ‘broken’ fan. Reaching down towards the radiator fiddling with one of the connectors the fan burst into life. ‘Mon fuckin’ Dieu’ I have been stressed over this problem since it first emerged in early December; with the tweak of experience the problem has gone away. “I can’t understand why Kevin hasn’t found this simple fault; I did mention to him that there could be the likelihood of wiring defect in the power sender recommending that the unit must be the first element of his diagnosis but he has obviously ignored my advice. He also said that he checked all other connections declaring that the fan must in fact be ‘scrap’. He’s had the car for four friggin months and done ‘jack’, I am very pissed off! ” To add fuel to the flames Alan had phoned earlier stating that the original battery was in fact ‘taking’ a charge, I should collect the unit tomorrow when it is fully completed. 

The only positive piece of information to emerge from ‘Robinson and Douglas’ has been delivered in the form of a ‘new’ car trimmer that Kevin uses regularly for his Porsche customers. ‘Gabbit and Brown’ are located in the Towngate Works, Dark Lane Mawdesley. Chris plans to ‘fix’ the minor faults on the Burlington this afternoon offering a window for me to search out this trimmer.

After finding his workshop I quickly realised that Tim Brown is the complete antithesis of Mad Michael. He proposes to garage Bertie for the next three weeks whilst I am France. He will fabricate the tonneau over that period or even later when his work load subsides. Michael can now remain permanently on Mars or better still in the ‘fuck off’ bin, another of the numerous arseholes who have littered the project from day one.

Perhaps Kevin could hitch a lift, I don’t really care which vacuous pit either of them finally reside.

Overall this has been a memorable day: the car fired almost instantly after four months of storage, the electric fan is not terminal and a new ‘responsible, professional trimmer has been discovered. I have not experienced such joy for quite a while.

Winter Blues

  

                                                February 2010

Mon.22.02.10. The vehicle remains at Kevin’s workshop totally untouched. I have contacted Michael from Mars regarding the making of the tonneau cover. He ‘promises’ to take the Burlington next week to fabricate the piece: my arse! But, subconsciously, I blame myself for the inertia, the broken electric fan is becoming a worry along with the agonizing dread that the engine having not been fired up for four months will terminate ‘a la’ model one that Colin built in 2006. Fuck me, here we go again.   

                                                 March 2010            

 

Wed.03.03.10. There has still been no news from Mad Michael or Chris. There was a suggestion that the Burlington could be ‘tracked’ at Kevin’s then driven back to Westmead to have the electric fan sorted out. I wait for news?

Thurs.04.03.10. What a difference a day makes. Chris arranged for me to collect new battery from Alan at Suttons in the morning to then take it round to Kevin’s workshop so that the Burlington can be fired up: Kevin had ‘drip fed’ the original battery for 24 hours to no effect, the unit was dead. Sure enough by the time I had arrived at ‘Douglas and Robinson’ the car was in the courtyard basking in the sunshine. Since the extreme winter had ‘set in’ this has been one the very few dry bright days, perhaps an omen? 

Once the new battery had been connected the car immediately sparked into action, the familiar burbling grunt instantly bringing back pleasant memories. Although Kevin had garaged ‘Bertie’ for the previous four months he had achieved absolutely nothing. He had run a direct feed to the fan to no avail, he stated also that the local tyre fitter could produce a much more accurate ‘tracking analysis’ than his own workshop. 

Another New Year!!

                                     Burlington Diary January 2010.

Mon.04.01.10. Over the festive period the whole of England has been paralysed by snow as well as ice. Roads have not been gritted, hundreds of cars of been abandoned, villages cut off, everywhere is at a standstill; likewise the project. I would never have thought back in another life in March 2006 that I would still be involved building this fucking car.

Fri.22.01.10. After several visits to Robinson and Douglas, principally to ‘sound out’ Kevin regarding the ‘corner weighting’ of the Burlington but also to keep him sweet for garaging the vehicle since mid December it is obvious that winter inertia is well and truly confirmed. Typically Kevin cannot remember why the car has been taken there in the first place; he is also baffled regarding the failure of the electric fan. I must confess that it is my major worry; without the fan the car cannot be driven, the road miles cannot be achieved, the project has ground to another significant halt. 

Tomorrow I leave for a well earned holiday to Tenerife for three weeks; I hope to return with renewed vigour in an attempt to ‘fix’ the fucking car. We perhaps need fresh targets or maybe another ‘programme of work’.    

We have been 'let down' again.

Throughout October 2009 as well as November 2009 there has been very little progress. Michael has avoided taking the car to make and fit the tonneau, his ‘key note’ speaking obligations consuming his waking hours. I have been in France for four and two weeks respectively: mainly to tidy some loose ends but also to put in place the building programme for 2010. The Burlington still requires all those vital finishing touches that only road tests can reveal. Unfortunately I have not really been able to drive the car. A combination of other commitments plus the weather has been the principal cause.

Significantly during October, Haydn Davies has requested permission to send the ‘insurance photos’ to a journalist who is compiling a book that chronicles the historical growth of ‘kitcars’. I have suggested that if he wanted further information regarding the entire project, particularly for his ‘magazine’, then I would be more than prepared to assist. So far I have not had a response. 

Tues.08.12.09. On a rare outing the electric fan has failed to kick in causing the reoccurrence of the dreaded ‘overheating’ problem. I managed to limp back to my garage in Marylebone to store the vehicle overnight. The following day with a full radiator of water the car was nursed to Coppull to the workshop of Kevin. Originally the purpose of the visit was principally to undergo the ‘corner weight’ procedure to establish the true balance of the suspension but the failure of the fan has become a priority. Should the fan be totally irreparable the entire front end needs to be removed: yet another major piece of work?

Tues.14.12.09. We have not been able to pin Kevin down as to when it would be convenient to carry out the modifications. Michael remains on Mars visiting his relatives.

Mon.21.12.09. It is now apparent that it will be the ‘New Year’ before any work on the car can be started.

The tonneau cover farce

                                  Burlington Diary September 2009

Tues.01.09.09. The two types of tonneau studs have been ordered from Woolies as these need to be fitted before Michael makes the cover. It is necessary to secure the scuttle top studs with the more substantial twin bolted fastener. The nut head needs to be ‘glassed’ into the scuttle where the tension from front to back is optimum. This is the most vulnerable area being fabricated mainly from filler. It therefore requires a solid base to ensure that the stud can withstand the ‘pull’ from the cover.

Mon.21.09.09. The tonneau studs have arrived from Woolies. Chris has begun to plot out the pattern for the studs. Six twin bolted studs will be located on the scuttle top whilst the remaining four will be situated either side of the front edges of the cockpit. Single self tapping studs will then be used on the wooden edge to complete the layout. Where possible the placement pattern will follow the original specification.

 Fri.25.09.09. Chris has positioned the tonneau studs. The procedure has necessitated the removal of the dash. The concept of the cover embraces several ideas to provide maximum weather protection. There will be one central as well as two further parallel zips. The rear studs will remain more or less permanently fixed, as will the first three studs located on the rear quarter panels. The more robust twin bolted studs along with the side zips can be operated allowing both the passenger and driver to access the cockpit. Once seated the side studs can be fastened thus providing ‘sidescreens’, the central part of the cover can then be folded then placed in the rear of the car. 

The central zip can be operated independently sealing the passenger area when not in use

Michael needs the vehicle to create an accurate pattern. He plans to fabricate the tonneau from a matching green vinyl estimating only one day to complete the entire job. 

This of course is totally reliant upon his commitments on Mars; he intimated that he had been engaged for a lengthy lecture tour to discuss the values of leather, rubber and plastics in the automotive industries: plus single handed fag rolling whilst simultaneously operating a sewing machine.

Road Tests

                                  Burlington Diary August 2009.

Tues.18.08.09. I have returned to find the car has been tweaked a little using the shims to level the suspension at the rear as well as the front wheels. The car is ready for road testing but still must be tracked.

But, the most important news has been the return of my log book with the correct description of ‘Triumph Convertible’ boldly inscribed on the first page. Sami Femi had been good as his word and passed the vehicle; I feel a tin of chunks being opened already. Unfortunately, when I went to claim my free tax the DVLA had not included the words ‘historic vehicle’ so I had a second trip to the office in Preston to have the document amended. I had been there the previous day in the hope of transferring my cherished plate but I was informed that this was impossible since the donor vehicle did not have a present MOT or tax. Bummer.

Weds.19.08.09. Chris recommends that the Burlington should be road tested: given this advice I proceeded down the M6 to my mother’s house to show off the vehicle. Unluckily on my return, as I was travelling up the slip road at Standish, there was an horrendous grinding, clanking noise that coincided with the rotation of the prop shaft. With the gearbox firmly rooted in fourth I managed to limp into Shevington Moor, the clutch smoking from the strain. This was a disaster; the car had run so well after the re-tweaking. The gear stick was floppy, unattached, feeling just like drunkard’s cock. After a quick call to Chris I was instructed to lift the tunnel to inspect the inevitable damage. Sure enough the connecting rod had become disconnected from the box; the nut and bolt were nowhere to be seen. 

I could re-engage the rod but could not change gear as the joint needed securing before any movement could be achieved. Typically, there had been a 10mm spanner abandoned in the cockpit but unfortunately I could not locate any nut or bolt that could be removed to replace the lost fastener. A flash of inspiration led me to remove one of the ignition keys which then could be forced into the joint thus locking the rod into the female: removing the leather belt from my jeans the connecting rod could be raised preventing any dangerous contact with the prop. I was then able to engage second gear which enabled me to return safely to Westmead. The complete repair was formally undertaken in the workshop to delight of Chris. Hopefully there has been very little damage to the clutch; I also feel that Chris was more than a little surprised at my inventive enterprise. “You see, I’ve taught you well!”

Later that same afternoon a visit to ‘Michael’ from Mars proved successful, as he confirmed that he will take the car next week to fashion the ‘purpose designed’ tonneau cover. Not a bad day after all.

Thurs.20.08.09. Lisa from the DVLA in Swansea informs me that if I take both registration documents, as well as the form V317, a fee of £80.00 together with a letter explaining that the donor vehicle has not been taxed since 1984, and as such is basket case that does not require a ‘SORN’, to the Manchester office they may allow me to transfer the cherished plate without seeing the vehicle. Perhaps they are not all bad at the DVLA?

Insurance evidence

Tues.14.07.09. Photographic evidence for ‘agreed value’ has been sent to Adrian Flux who have requested this information in the event of serious, terminal damage to the Burlington, confirming that the vehicle has a representative worth. Having had the photo’s developed for my own purposes I am gradually becoming excited about the prospect of actually using the vehicle on the road, particularly in France.

The images have refreshed memories of how stunningly attractive the vehicle has eventually evolved. The colour combinations, the sexy curves, but more significantly the ‘build quality’ have reminded me of how delightfully unique ‘my’ vehicle has become. Since ‘road worthiness’ I have experienced less than ‘full blown’ enthusiasm, the reasons of which I still cannot rationalise. Perhaps the delays, breakdowns or simply a niggling doubt that another major fault may unexpectedly surface is always at the back of my mind. 

Will it be gearbox failure, unresolved suspension, camber/castor problems or the stubbornness of the DVLA? Until all of these issues have been comprehensively resolved I remain cautious, level, my emotions under control.

I return again to France on Wednesday to complete the signing of the ‘final acte’, we shall be in Burgundy from the end of July until mid August.

Chris continues to wrestle with the set up, confident that the problems with the rear leaf spring together with the ‘tracking’ difficulties of the front end can be settled. Enlisting the expertise of Colin and Dick should possibly ensure an optimistic outcome.

Castor and Camber

Sat.11.07.09. It has been necessary to touch base once more with Max of Totally Triumph. Surprisingly amicable he took me into the darker recesses of his workshop where he instantly laid his gnarly hands on the front and rear suspension shims that I required. I had instantly opened the door for one of his ‘here sayeth the Lord’ soliloquies, after I had explained the reason for the request. “You must always have odd numbers of shims on front suspension unit. For example 3 on the back, 2 on the front, keep a differential of 1 all the time. This will affect not just the camber but the castor as well. It is better to have either 1 degree negative or at most neutral on the front. 

On the rear only have perhaps one eighth or one quarter of an inch on a drop test of negative, in other words 1.5 degrees. Never have larger wheels than 4.5 J’s or tyres greater than 155 to obtain maximum handling, forget those fuckin’ big wheels that those fuckers at Jigsaw always recommend, the car will just spin, they know fuck all about real Triumphs. Believe me, that is how the car should be set up!” Listening intently in an attempt to compute all of this information I had almost forgotten that we needed 2x 13lbs radiator caps, but as before Max scooped up a pair of brand new units.

I left with 8 front and 4 rear shims plus the caps for £10.00. Max had the last word, “Bring the car down, I’ll have a look, if you want, but don’t forget what I have told you, camber and castor are very important!”  

Later in the Oak the sermon was passed on, chapter and verse, to Chris, who calmly responded with, “He’s wrong, his logic is shite, but I know where he’s coming from.”  

DVLA Manchester

Thurs.09.07.09. This morning is the long awaited meeting with DVLA at Manchester. This could be a wonderful or a shite day. The chunks may be opened tonight or thrown in the bin

The directions to the Manchester office of the DVLA were not the best but we managed to make the deadline of 10.30pm. We had previously travelled down the M6, M62, M602, then into Trafford and finally onto Chester road. Throughout the journey I had gained additional confidence whilst driving the Burlington. The steering is responsive, there is little or no vibration, the vehicle feels tight and assured, just as if this was a modern production sports car. 

The over engineering, designed jointly by Chris and Colin proved that all the painful hours had been well spent.

Mr Femi proved to be a jovial mild mannered Afro Caribbean person. After I had pointed out the car a broad smile filled his face. “What a beautiful machine, can I buy it?” were his first remarks after a closer inspection. There was an initial mistrust regarding the ID number which was not included on any part of the registration document, but, the chassis number along with the engine number were obviously correct so he was left with only the task of  merely filling in the rest of the details. The colour was noted, the mileage as well as the fact that it did not have a hood. 

We had become something of an attraction on the car park as other candidates for inspection gathered around. “It’s a Morgan,” one person declared, “no it’s not, a Morgan is a ‘kit’, this car is the real thing,” said another. Mr. Femi asked, “How should I describe it?” upon which, both Chris and I simply said, ‘Triumph Burlington Convertible?’, “That sounds good enough for me,” repeated Mr Femi, it certainly was good enough for us. The inspection took less than fifteen minutes most of which was spent by Sami Femi asking how we had done this and that, how long did it take to complete the build, how much did it cost? One of the bystanders reckoned that it must be worth at least £25000, to which we agreed. 

After several photographs the meeting was ended, very amicably.  A report will be sent to Swansea verifying the findings of the inspection; with a little luck I should receive my new registration document within 2 weeks. But, the fat lady has not yet sung. 

The MOT continues

The test continued without much of a hic cup. The lights were good even though they conformed to French ‘regs’, the brakes just about stopped the vehicle, the CO2 emissions were not required on a car of this age and since there was no windscreen, wipers or washers were not necessary. But the prime concern was that of the tracking; which was 2.5 degrees out of alignment. Kevin attempted to adjust the track whilst on the ramp but this really was just a guessing game and soon this approach was abandoned. The car had past the MOT with only 11km on the clock. However there were a few recommendations that should be undertaken ‘as soon as’. The rear handbrake cable should be protected by a metal shroud as it passed through the body before travelling to the hub together with, once the car has settled, tuned properly, the emissions should then conform to modern regulations. But, worryingly, the initial tracking was hopelessly incorrect.

When Kevin returned to the workshop he tackled the problem of the out of line front wheels. The nearside was grossly ‘positive camber’ whilst the offside front was the opposite. With a few adjustments to both followed by the ‘pad test’ it seemed that both were aligned within 1.5 of neutral camber, which at this stage was genuinely ‘OK’. On Kevin’s advice I whizzed the Burlington up the road for a ‘settling in’ test. The handling was totally different. The ride was straight, uncomplicated, comfortably firm; the car felt 100% better. Most importantly she felt safe. We thanked Kevin, paid £40.00 for the test plus all the work on the tracking, but at the same time planned a convoluted route back to Standish, to test the car further.

The car has experienced its first full tank of unleaded petrol; the open road is before us. From Eccleston we travelled to Robin Hood lane so that the ‘two mile stretch’ past the ‘Duck ponds’ would allow the overdrive to be engaged. By this time I was becoming quite confident increasingly accustomed to the wide gate of the box, the spongy brakes and the idiosyncrasies of the back end twitching, but immediately returning to the correct line. Going so well, the decision to drive the four miles down the motorway to Orrell wasn’t in doubt. And so we did. The openness of the cockpit plus the peripheral protection from the ‘aero screens’ meant that we were buffeted relentlessly, nevertheless the underlying strength of the reinforced chassis together with the robust body tub kept the car glued to the road. With the overdrive engaged in top gear the engine roared along at 3000 revs.

Unbelievable! The final technical set up will only improve every aspect of the vehicle. Presently, the vehicle is possibly at its worst, the best is yet to come. We returned north again using the Motorway to Westmead in an attempt to analyse the wealth of data from just a short ‘maiden journey’.