Mr Haynes found the clunk

On Friday, due to the dungy road works that are killing Kidderminster, I had to go on a very large and quite wonderful drive around various villages and lanes with the top down and the v8 burbling. Well, when I say burbling, I mean coughing and spluttering. For most of the way back, all was well if I drove with the choke out. That was until I was about to stop at a junction when the choke had to be shoved back in very quickly! the tune lasted a long time eh?!

So. An enjoyable little trip was had apart from the damned clunking. It must be something to do with the transmission? Over the weekend, I decided to get underneath the beast and have a nose around. There appears to be some play inn the propshaft. After consulting the great (?) Haynes, it suggested that a clunk on gear change is indeed the bearings in the propshaft. Huzzah!

Or not so huzzah as I now have to get my "not really designed for car repairs torso" (herein known as NRDFCRT) underneath a rusty 30 year old car body in order to remove 8 rusty 30 year old bolts from a rusty 30 year old propshaft. Oh joy.

The custard monster strikes again

Remember the custard monster? He has struck again.
All has been well thus far since the tune. It ticks over properly and sounds fantastic. However. On the way back from Stourport [the longest journey it has had since DDay!] earlier today, the 3000 revs thing started again.
What is so magical about 3000 revs? Do I need to get Paul Daniels in? Or maybe that tool who is hanging from his nackers somewhere in New York?
So. Back to Basics as some pea eating bloke used to say.
The clunk can wait.

Happy Birthday to me

I got the call from Phil today at the beast was ready to collect. It was from Leah actually. I could hear her smiling on the other end of the 'phone as she had taken it for a little spin.

Phil suggested I took it for a little test drive. Bejaysus! How fast?! So this is what its like to drive a proper TR8 then? Why the feck did I wait so long to get it tuned?! Turns out that the spark plugs needed changing; that the carb linkages were loose and thus didn't work together; that 2 of the HT leads were the wrong way round; that the carbs needed balancing.

A [good] night out on the pop is all it cost to restore the silly cheesey smile upon my boat.

Now for the clunk ...

My poor poor wallet

It's gone in. It just about made the 1 mile journey although I had to use the handbrake to stop as removing my foot from the right hand pedal would have resulted in stalling and non starting for an hour!

I have a horrible incling that a set of spark plugs and a twiddle with the carbs just isn't going to be enough.

I have suddenly remembered why MNX500V was taken off the road.

I await a call ...

Addendum

Bugger! Phil has had a run on and so the very very very much needed tune etc is delayed until Monday. Will the damned thing get home?

Where did I put my RAC card? ...

At least it starts first time

Ever heard the phrase "you get what you pay for"? I often think that had I spent 5-6k [in my dreams!] on a TR8 that I would have a very pretty one with no dead engine or rattle problems and a very tidy interior. Well I didn't. And it shows! This morning it is booked in at Phil's and if he can't tune it no bugger can. It's a good job too as the 2½ mile journey to work was rather painful. The engine felt like it had been sabotaged with a pot of custard.

Unfortunately it decided to stop once I had entered the gates at work - right in the middle of the car park. A rather large Pole came to my rescue and there was much merriment at my expense. Crappy old nail. It is perhaps not a shocker that the day I bought it, TR7s were placed in the top 10 of the nation's most dungy cars! It's lucky there is not a hammer in the boot.

At least it starts first time ...

Twat Alfa Driver

And I forgot to mention. Last week I took the beast to work as the Met told me it was going to be sunny. Liars! I checked the interwebnet and some bugger had changed the suns to nasty black clouds. So, not wanting the beast to get wet nor not wanting to drive round in circles, I nipped home to get the Volvo. Afore nipping, a colleague decided to assist in collapsing the hood. Now as he is an Alpha 2000 driver (similar to the one Dustin drives in the Graduate), he thought he could simply throw the hood down in an arsey Italian stylee. Wrong! I am now a press stud down on either side. There goes the brand new hood. Twat!

Water water everywhere

It's nothing to do with global warning. Don't blame the Yanks. Nor the Chinese. Not even the Indians. It's my fault. I can not even hear the great Lord Suggs due to the rain hammering down on the conservatory roof. The wettest August on record is due solely to the fact that I purchased my dream car in July. Since I managed to get up the hill of doom oh so long ago, it has rained. And rained. And rained. I wonder if I will be able to have another trip out before the tax runs out in October?