DOWN TO THE WIRE
Chris booked his TR7 in for its MoT the day before it was due to drive to the Peak District. Guess how well that worked out?
1980 TRIUMPH TR7 FHC
My Triumph faced its MoT prior to CCW’s recent Spring Tour to the Peak District (and when I say ‘prior’, what I mean is ‘the day before’), and to say I was confident is something of an understatement – why would I book its annual test so close to a several-hundred-mile drive, involving performancesapping ascents and brake-burning descents if I wasn’t sure that it would pass? It had absolutely nothing to do with a lack of organisation on the owner’s part, that’s for sure…
In all seriousness, though, I genuinely did feel there would be no repercussions from booking the Triumph in for its test at the eleventh hour; having travelled to and from Bicester Heritage’s first Sunday Scramble of the year without incident, before then being forced to shelter from various incarnations of the ‘Beast of the East’, the TR7 had no obvious reason to develop faults because it had barely tuned a wheel. However, it would seem that LBY 934V hadn’t taken kindly to its time hidden in the garage following an all-too-brief taste of freedom, despite the wintry weather.
There had been hints that all was not well on odd short journeys to work in the days before the MoT, which I attributed (wrongly, with hindsight) to old fuel. The occasional cough and splutter wasn’t enough to shake my confidence, but it was hard to view the ignition unexpectedly cutting out a mile from base on MoT day as anything other than a bad omen.
I spent the drive to the test station (Express Autocare in Peterborough, 01733 352352) glancing nervously at the instrument binnacle, but no further hiccups materialised. Perhaps it was just a blip?
Then the phone call came later that afternoon, informing me it been refused a ticket due to excessive emissions as a result of an over-rich mixture from its twin SU carbs. I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; I’d spent weeks preparing the perfect route for our Peak District drive and at this rate I would be sitting in the passenger seat of a colleague’s classic rather than behind the wheel of my own.
With other customers’ cars to attend to and just a few hours of the working day left, the garage took pity one me, but could make no promises. Excessive play in the nearside pop-up headlamp – which had somehow escaped my attention – would also need to be sorted before LBY would be legally allowed back on the road.
Thankfully, news finally came through that the my TR7 had passed its MoT retest and would be fighting fit for the Peak District drive. Well, sort of.
Not to detract from the efforts of Express by any means, but it caters more often for Mondeos than MGBs, so didn’t have the equipment to correctly tune the carbs, meaning they had to tune ‘ by ear’. The guys had done a fantastic job, all things considered, but further tinkering is required; it became apparent as the team left Peterborough, the following day, that backing off the throttle at high revs resulted in a series of pops on the overrun. This wasn’t especially noticeable on the motorway drive to our Woodhead Pass starting point, but far more so on the sinuous B-roads I’d picked out, resulting in a lot less engine braking and added strain on brakes. Thankfully, multiple stops for photos meant the next opportunity to let things cool down was never too far away.
Aside from this, there are a few additional niggling jobs that I’d like classic car specialist, Robsport (01763 262263, robsport.co.uk), to take a look at when I next get an opportunity to visit. Before that happens, though, I need to work out what the bracket-shape lump of metal that fell off my car on the drive home from the Peak District is, where it is that it’s supposed go and how important it is. Gulp.