rust

If it’s good enough for the Queen…

….then surely it can come sit in my barn?

After having a (comparatively) massive clearout over the last few months, I found this gem waiting for me a few weeks ago. It’s a 1965 Rover P5 3 litre coupe, and it’s now mine. The P5 was a strange car, being technically both backward and amazingly forward-looking at the same time. If you look past the leaf springs and ancient 6cyl engine, you find the first seeds of things that eventually  made up the P6.. driver safety was just becoming a factor and the whole concept of easily-replaceable panels is sort-of there.

OK, perhaps the title is slightly misleading – the Queen had a P5B sedan, but it’s not that different. The P5 coupe is only a coupe in the “streamlined and slightly chopped down” sense of the word; it’s still got four doors and it’ll still seat four cigar-smoking adults in very British comfort.

2014-10-07

This photo doesn’t really do justice to the sheer size of this thing. The P6 looks quite svelte in comparison; the P5 is built like a tank and is – coincidentally – also rather like driving one. For a ’60s British car, it’s positively massive. It doesn’t quite dwarf the Jaguar 420 that’s currently sitting next to it, but it’s much bulkier.

This particular car has lived in the sunny NW most of its life, and it’s been off the road for about eight years.. which is (almost) nothing. However, the fancy dual fuel pump has seized and it looks like it’s been resprayed as part of a playgroup of three year olds’ summer project.

However… some day soon……!

By tedlit, ago

JUNGLE IS MASSIVE

This is a mk2 Triumph Spitfire, as it helpfully says on the back of the car. This was at ABFM this year; they’re not always this WIKID though. Just *look* at those tailpipes. That must be.. oh.. one per cylinder!

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By tedlit, ago

What Rover did that wasn’t 4×4

This is a Rover P6. It’s mine, and it had a new exhaust fitted last week.

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Things we learned from this experience:

  • People at exhaust shops get confused if your brakes are attached to your differential.
  • People at exhaust shops get worried if your front shocks are mounted horizontally.
  • People at exhaust places will retrieve wrenches that have been hidden in your bodywork for FIFTEEN YEARS and merely smirk at you.
  • Contrary to popular belief, a 47 year old British exhaust manifold can, in fact, be porous.
  • Yes, a top speed of 77 is more than adequate.
  • Everyone will keep asking if it’s “some old Buick”.

    I love the Rover P6.

    • By tedlit, ago

    Just a big blob of rust…?

    The P6 has always sounded a bit exhaust-y. I initially put that down to a small hole in the ancient rear silencer, but further complaining and investigation led to the conclusion that there was also a leak near the manifold. Normally, this means a holed gasket.. or a broken stud in some join somewhere.. either way, not the worst job in the world but certainly one of the more annoying.

    However, after an afternoon of removing 16 of the finest rusted-up 1/2″ British bolts, I found this:

    I think it’s supposed to be an exhaust manifold. It has the consistency of Swiss cheese, and there are four or five good bulges in it. I didn’t realise cast iron could do that, but apparently – if made in Birmingham – it can.

    By tedlit, ago

    How to fix a door with a hammer

    I have owned several cars with dubious bodywork over the years. The cut-n-shut 1983 Metro springs to mind, as well as the Triumph 2500 with socks in the sill. These were fairly well-hidden jobs though.. and obviously some of my cars are, uh, less valuable than others. Obviously, it’s worth having a dent in a newish Jag repaired professionally, but if the car in question is a $250 near-wreck with 200k miles on it?

    Well… this is what happens.

    I’ve posted about this car – and its coolant issues – before, but I didn’t really address the awesome bodywork. This is a 1990 Sterling 827 with 198k miles on it. It’s an SL model, which means actual leather seats and a real, genuine 4-speed slushbox. I owned it for a while, and I drove it 80 miles daily for a year or so. It had previously been used for transporting hay and other farm-related unmentionables, so cleaning it out was probably one of the more interesting experiences I’ve had.

    Apparently a horse fell out of an adjacent trailer into the door (yes, really) and the requisite door and wing panels were pulled back into shape with a convenient hammer and pry bar. The door never quite opened all the way, but the poor car was fine. OK.. so it had a busted radiator and no A/C, but those were simple fixes.

    Oddly enough.. no one would park next to me at work when I drove it. Who’s going to notice another dent, eh?

    By tedlit, ago

    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…!

    By tedlit, ago

    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…!

    By tedlit, ago

    Why we take batteries out before storing

    This is what happens if you take a 1971 Stag, drive it until 1978 when the engine gives up, and then store it until 2007. You will of course remember to carefully drain and replace all the fluids, seal the interior, and cover the car correctly. What you will forget is to remove the original British Leyland battery, which over the next 29 years will disintegrate, filling your front valance with battery acid.. which in turn will disintegrate, taking the entire battery box, half the radiator, the fan, and most of the front bumper with it.

    By tedlit, ago

    The Triumph Stag. What did it ever do?

    So I have a bit of a thing for Triumph Stags. When I was but a small boy, cars I drew looked like one of two things.. a Mini, or a Stag. This is unfortunate, because a Stag is just about the least reliable British car it’s possible to own. Granted, most of the problems are now well-known and can be sorted.. but this has its consequences.

    Firstly, Triumph only sold 2500 Stags in the US between 1970 and 1973. In my estimation, maybe half of these are left.. and of those, maybe half have had the engine switched because the original melted/combusted/exploded. As it left the factory, the Stag has eight of the most fragile cylinders ever put under a bonnet.

    The other side-effect of the Stag’s well-known reliability problems is this:

    I currently have three Stags. The above two came from a guy who also had three.. but he restored one, decided it was too much effort, and sold the other two to me. The one on the left has been Frankensteined with a 283 Chevy engine, and obviously has been outside for long time.. even though there’s no rust whatsoever *inside*. It also – after some coaxing – runs and drives (unfortunately it doesn’t stop yet).

    The one on the trailer is a very early 1970 – in fact, it’s about ten cars earlier than the earliest US-spec “normal production” Stags known to the registry. Unfortunately, despite good bodywork, most of this car is in bits in my garage.  It did come with two engines though – a Capri v6, and the Stag v8 (suspiciously missing one timing cover).

    Hmm.

    By tedlit, ago