Service position
Nigel treats his beloved Scimitar to some special attention
The Scimitar had been running extremely well and getting plenty of use but, as a result, a list of minor jobs had gradually developed. It was time to give my trusty machine a bit of well-earned spanner time to repay its loyal service.
First up was the task of renewing the rear brake shoes. I noticed a couple of months ago (while shooting a Practical Classics technical feature on brake judder), that the shoes were worn close to the rivets, and made a mental note to fit new ones soon. Luckily, when I bought the Scimitar nearly five years ago, it came with a boot-full of spares, including a new set of brake shoes, so there really was no excuse for delaying the job any longer.
Since the thoroughly worn brake linings were fixed to the shoes with old-fashioned copper rivets, I suspected that they may well be ancient enough to contain asbestos. Taking no chances with the brake dust, I donned a mask and gloves before carefully removing the drums. With the old shoes removed, there was dust to clean from the backplates – I did that gently with a paint brush. Never try to blow out brake or clutch dust with compressed air, just in case there is any asbestos present.
To prepare for reassembly, I filed a slight chamfer on the ends of the friction surfaces of the new brake shoes, and applied a light smear of copper grease to the slave cylinder pistons and handbrake linkages. It all fitted back together easily enough with pull-off springs and handbrake levers engaged. I finished the task by adjusting the new shoes.
Too cool for school
Moving down the to-do-list, I replaced the thermostat, as the engine has been slow to warm up and running a bit too cool. While the ‘Rew pot’ header tank was off the car it received a clean-up and fresh paint. This oversize header tank was designed by Scimitar enthusiast Robin Rew, to replace the original thermostat housing and overcome cooling problems.
It was already fitted when I bought the car, but looked rather shabby due its flaking paint.
Nigel Clark ‘I suspected the brake linings might be old enough to contain asbestos’
Refitted on top of a new thermostat and gasket, it now looks much smarter.
Next job was the front suspension, where one of the upper ball joints was showing some play. I decided to replace both sides with new Quinton Hazell parts. The nuts and bolts came out easily after a good soak in some penetrating oil. I then split the ball joint tapers from the suspension upright using a forked separator. This looks brutal and is guaranteed to destroy the rubber boots on old ball joints, but the careful application of brute force soon got the old joints off the car. The new joints are ‘sealed for life’ without grease nipples, so we will have to see how their life expectancy turns out in practice.
Greased lightnin’
They fitted without problems and I was soon reaching for my trusty torque wrench to tighten the nuts. I finished the front suspension work by giving each of the trunnions a dose of grease. Why grease you may ask, as the Scimitar’s front suspension is derived from the TR6, and Triumph recommended gear oil. Reliant in its wisdom specified grease and these have clearly been greased regularly in the past, so I figure I will keep doing the same, even though both my Triumphs get gear oil pumped into their trunnions. While the front wheels were off, it was an ideal opportunity to change the oil and filter, as the filter is easily reached through the nearside wheel arch.
Finally, I checked the front wheel alignment using my Trackace laser gauge. Finding slightly too much toe in, adjusting one track rod by less than a quarter of a turn brought the front wheels parallel, as per the workshop manual. Back on the road, the Scimitar feels as good as ever, the brakes work well and the engine warms up better. The car’s been working for its living, collecting freshly-machined and balanced engine internals for my 2.5-litre GT6 project.
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