Workshop worship
The only thing burning this time is the light bulb in Alisdair’s garage
ICAN’T see what you’re filling” barked the petrol station cashier, testily. “Pardon?” I asked, stood at the open driver’s door, non-functioning unleaded pump in hand. “I said I can’t see what you’re filling. I need to see what you’re filling,” she barked, obviously pleased to meet someone of apparently lower IQ. “The tank,” says I. Visibly confused, she’d walked near enough to now see the seat base removed, petrol tank exposed with cap off, pump nozzle impotently sitting inside. “Oh. What? That’s your tank?” she asked, face now contorted. “Yes” I said, as patiently as I could (in my head, my reply was a little less kind), then sighed. Just another day running a Series I in 2019.
But her frosty overzealousness was quickly forgotten, for I’m having a great time, happy to be back in my Series I. My only desire being a hot engine and fuel in the tank (eventually). It has been a while – a couple of months, in fact – but finally I have a spare day, and I’ve allocated it to doing nothing but driving a Land Rover. My 1957 Land Rover.
It was summer when I last used the Series I. I remember that fact because I was out in it with my eldest son, 62 years to the day after the car was first registered, in Penrith. Under the last rays of sun my lad and I parked the car on a hill, watching farmers hurriedly harvesting their crops with a huge combine, the wagon train of tractors and hoppers creating great clouds of dust. Racing home in the dark, it was the first time I’d relied on the headlights. The next day I decided to sort the non-functioning ammeter, which is where my problems started. As I said last month, putting it back together, the ammeter internals had cracked. Reassembly allowed one terminal to short circuit against the ground of the dashboard. Result: one wiring loom becoming a toaster element.
I admit weeks passed before I really set into it, but a few hours here and there I’d stripped the dash panel, cleaned it all, replaced the failed ammeter – from a factory-sealed box, dated 1978 – repaired the damaged earth wiring,wiring and conficonfirmedrmed all was bang-on perfect.perfect I fifififirstrst thought the primary loom had shorted internally, but testing fully showed the only damage was to theth earth feeds. The wiring barely a yearye or so old, I called the manufacturer,manufacture Autosparks, and was pleased to be told they could probably repair my existing loom.
Three weeks and £65 later, back it came like a new part again. Over thet following week, I slowly got it all backb on the car. Much checking with the multimeter put my nervous mind aat rest – when you’ve had a short, it is easy to be paranoid. Pushed out ininto daylight, for the fifirstrst time since the summer, I nervously tried the batterybatte lead. Happily spark-free (this time),time) I soon confirmedconfirmed the ignition poweredpower up, to the sound of the SU fuel pump chatting away. A tap of the starter, and the 2.0-litre Rover engine was beating away like the clichéd sewing machine we’re always told about. I wonder if sewing machines are ever described as sounding like a Series I Land Rover? I digress.
Ten more minutes and I’d connected the secondary loom and confirmed all was well.
Like a shot, I’d rolled up the canvas and went on a test drive, still in my overalls, a huge smile on my face. Happy to be back in the saddle, I was out for an hour or so, ratcheting over 30 miles on the Jaeger odometer.
Confionfirmingrming everything electrical was now working, my face creased as thehe choke warning light just wouldn’tdn’t illuminate. Common never to be working on a Series I, I’m not happyppy for such a simple thing to goo unfiunfixed.xed. Long story short, I endednded up stripping the Lucas bulb holderolder to its component parts, cleaninganing the tarnished brass bulb holder,er, reshaping it and the spring to work as intended, before curing the initialal problem, namely the solder joiningng the back to the front had cracked,ked, stopping the current.
I used to be thathat personrson who just bookedoked a car into a garage for worwork.
Butut no more. Papartly inspiredspired by LRM Technical over the years, I’ve come to enjoy the time
learning, understanding and fettling in my own garage. If I can do it, you can, too. Time with the spanners is equally as enjoyable as time at the pedals. The more I learn, the more I understand about the car – and myself.
To celebrate, just like in August, my eldest lad and I enjoyed a sunset drive in the car. No shorts and T shirt for the last days of October though. Canvas cinched tight, the heater blowing on full (well, switched on), and us both wearing two coats, we were smiling nonetheless, satisfied the car isn’t just fixed, but improved from before.
I would say we were casually chatting about how nice it was to be out in what our boys refer to as ‘Landy’, but even shouting it is hard to hear each other over the engine when on the move. Apparently, that’s what a sewing machine sounds like.