Sometimes, you just wonder… “how did this get here?”

So you’re wandering around the scrapyard, trying to avoid the greasier puddles and the guy angrily hammering away at a miscellaneous suspension part. All around you are the dullest and worst examples of the last twenty years of the automotive industry. Camrys, Accords, Escorts, Cavaliers, minivans… by the hundred. You’re looking for the one and only Range Rover in the yard, when all of a sudden you see this peeking out from the end of an aisle:

Yes, I know. A 58 MG Magnette. These are unbelievably rare anywhere in the world, but to find one in the US – and in a mediocre scrapyard – is unheard-of. Miraculously, it all seemed to be there.. well.. the paint has obviously gone walkabout, and some of the engine ancilliaries were in the (cavernous) boot.. even the awesome half-octagon speedo was still in place. The bodywork does give off an aura of “I haven’t moved since 1969”, but there’s far worse laying around.
I do hope someone does something useful with it, rather than just hanging the MG badges on their garage wall…!

This is a clutch release bearing. Isn’t it interesting?

It’s out of a 1967 Triumph 2000.. and is the reason the car in question is sitting in my garage with its gearbox out. Some genius who shall not be named decided that furiously pumping the clutch after the car had been off the road for three years was a good way of unseizing the clutch disc. Unfortunately, due to the design of the early release sleeves, this can cause the slipper pads (the things that hold the fork into the slots in the side of the sleeve) to slip out completely, locking the sleeve wherever it may be.

The “fix” (aside from “don’t be an idiot with the clutch”), is to install the sleeve/bearing from a later mk1 / mk2 2000 – this uses square slipper pads that are much less likely to lock the sleeve up. They also don’t have slots for the pads – there’s a continuous ring round the sleeve. It’s a straight swap, but – somewhat obviously – requires the gearbox to be out in order to do it…!

Hens teeth

The Triumph 2000 was a common car all over Europe in the 1970’s – Triumph sold over 300,000 of them between 1963 and 1977, and they were fairly perennial in most Shut It You’re Nicked TV shows during that period. However, that doesn’t translate to the US – Triumph attempted to sell them into the US market during some undefined period in the 1960s. I haven’t been able to find out precisely when, but all three of mine were registered in 1967.

Three, you say? Yes, that’s right. I don’t know how many were sold, but there’s never more than one or two at the various shows and I know a handful of people in the sunny Pacific Northwest that keep ’em running. For such an uncommon car, it’s not all that difficult – the engine is all GT6 (or TR6 at a 500cc-higher push), and brakes are similar enough to Stag that there’s some degree of commonality. The Stag is, of course, an evolution of the mk2 Triumph 2000… but that’s another story entirely.

This particularly sad and lonely vehicle is a 1967 in Leyland White with black interior and moss accessories. Given the terminal rust on the doors and the fact that around 50% of the engine is in the boot, it’s a total shock to find that a) the carpets are just fine, and b) the seats are almost perfect under all the dust. This one has sat since about 2001, when it suffered some kind of compression loss and the subsequent repair was abandoned. Unfortunately, sitting for ten years with the head off means the engine is a now a large piece of seized scrap iron, which is a shame.

This car was the “get one free” on a “buy this car, you have to take that one as well” deal. More on the other one to come.

Excessive weight reduction

Perhaps I should put the doors back on.

It’s amazing how much lighter a car is if you remove the doors, windows, windscreens, bonnet, and most of the front end. It is, however, not amazing how blue it is if you paint it in the bluest bluey blue paint imaginable.

Ugliest headlights ever.. entry #22

This is a(nother) 1980 Rover SD1 3500. For some reason, I keep ending up with them.. this is my third.

Don't my headlights look fantastic?

 

This one lived in Salem before I got my grubby mitts on it, and spent a while sitting in a field. Unlike the other SD1 I had a couple of years ago, this one is a NAS model and is totally stock.. hence the slightly cross-eyed front end and the correct wheels. It’s also been oddly resprayed in its original colour of Platinum (oh really, British Leyland?), but fortunately still has the original awesome two-tone brown velour interior.

It had the usual electrical gremlins, which required a bunch of relays, a Jaguar XJ6 fuel pump, and lots of swearing. It now drives and stops when it’s supposed to, and doesn’t seem over-inclined to catching fire.  So far, it’s only moved around the driveway and back, but as it’s got a bizarre custom exhaust system it sounds a bit.. well.. frisky.

It also doesn’t seem to overheat. For now.

Look at that velour porn.

 

Once bitten…

I’ve had six Triumph Stags now. I currently have three, and none of them are driveable. I haven’t driven one (legally) on the road since 2004. They are a nightmare from every single conceivable angle, and any sane person would run a mile from them.

However, last week I did this.

 

I don't really like wire wheels either.

This is a ’71 Stag. It’s supposed to be Carmine Red, but some genius has had it resprayed in a hideous pink/red metallic flip, and then sanded a bunch of it down where the paint guy took a tea break. It’s got its original drivetrain, the interior is fairly good, and the soft top hasn’t seen an erection since 1981.

Unfortunately, seeing as it’s got its original drivetrain, it doesn’t run right. It would barely cough and wheeze its way onto a trailer last month, and the previous “owner” had a bunch of head work done in order to fix a problem that’s nothing to do with the head. Fortunately, I no longer have to worry about burnt exhaust valves – instead, I have to deal with a blown water pump graphite seal, different height head gaskets, a badly-skimmed inlet manifold, and a front choke secured with zip ties.. and that’s before I get to any of the obstacles British Leyland or Lucas put in the way of being the world’s best car.

Clarkson has a point. The Triumph v8 is a total dog of an engine. Sure, in running order, it’s fantastic.. and to some extent, the problems are well understood and fixes are available.. but for most people, ripping the damn thing out and stuffing a small block Chevy in there is the obvious option. Ignoring the enormous weight difference, it is far simpler to work on.

The more obvious global fix is the Rover v8 – which probably should’ve been in there in the first place – and sheer pigheadedness is what prevented it from being in there in the first place. Go British Leyland, eh.

The World of Blue

So blue. It's the bluest thing EVER.

I haven’t been entirely shirking responsibility over the winter. Gearboxes have been changed, cars have come and gone, and one car in particular is in the middle of a transformation from “beige and bondo” to “bluest thing ever”.

It’s one of those finishes that’s supposed to be “pearl” – ie, it’s got more than one colour in it – but frankly, I’m not seeing the green myself. It’s ever so slightly metallic, and it’s absolutely gorgeous.. but it’s hard work. I had no idea how easy it was to remove windows from ancient Detroit iron, but apparently all that’s needed is a big screwdriver and a moderate amount of swearing.