Home
TRUE STORIES - A.A. MEN BY Ian Pinkney
I know they can't help it, but how Is it that they always
try to be so helpful but in the end almost useless when it
comes to fixing something?
I was going to my first Morgan Sprint in my BSA when it had
a four cylinder- engine, Jeff Morgan (ex-secretary of the
Club and recently seen at the Holly Run after 20 years in
Canada) was my co-driver, and we set off early, speeding up
the motorway to somewhere near Rugby. Unfortunately my
speedo was reading slow, and after overtaking coaches and
lorries all the way up the motorway (surely more than 20
years ago?) we just saw the Rugby turn-off when a big end
went. I had just converted the car to 12 volts, and bodged
up a dynamo drive using cork floor tiles as a spacer, these
had given way and lost a lot of oil.
I filled up with oil and carried on to the Sprint, where for the only time I saw Sid Rayfield's trike in action. Unfortunately I can't remember anything about the sprint as I removed the sump, took out the offending piston and con-rod, put a Jubilee clip over the oil hole, and started back home. This is when I first realised that engines should be balanced, the vibration was awful so we progressed by getting up to 5O mph, then drifting in neutral until about 20 mph, then starting again. The queue behind us got really confused! Stoney Stratford came, up and the pubs were open, so in we went. Some time later out we came, and would the car start - not likely!!, we pushed the thing up and down the High Street to no effect. One Morgan stopped to help, then half an hour later, another. "Funny," I said, "your car is the same colour as the last one." "Not surprising," said the well known driver, "we both use the sane numberplate, tax disc and insurance! Those were the days!
It was now dark and we thought it was electrics, but with a flat battery we were in sore trouble, Then along came "can I help?", it was an A.A. man.
We weren't members, but he said
he would give it a look over. We explained it was the
electrics, possibly the distributor. Ten minutes later he
said "lt's obvious" there's no spark plug in No 2.
I explained that If he looked down the plug hole he would
find no piston either. He didn't say a word, just walked to
his van and drove away.
I phoned my long-suffering father who said he would collect
us in the morning with a towrope. I took off the steering
wheel to give more room, and without the benefit of a hood
we eventually went to sleep. We got some odd looks from a
crowded High Street when we awoke, though. Two men in a
funny car with bonnet open, no steering wheel and a pool of
oil underneath, but I had dreamed of V-twins and. racing
round Brook lands, would it come true? Read on.
I filled up with oil and carried on to the Sprint, where for the only time I saw Sid Rayfield's trike in action. Unfortunately I can't remember anything about the sprint as I removed the sump, took out the offending piston and con-rod, put a Jubilee clip over the oil hole, and started back home. This is when I first realised that engines should be balanced, the vibration was awful so we progressed by getting up to 5O mph, then drifting in neutral until about 20 mph, then starting again. The queue behind us got really confused! Stoney Stratford came, up and the pubs were open, so in we went. Some time later out we came, and would the car start - not likely!!, we pushed the thing up and down the High Street to no effect. One Morgan stopped to help, then half an hour later, another. "Funny," I said, "your car is the same colour as the last one." "Not surprising," said the well known driver, "we both use the sane numberplate, tax disc and insurance! Those were the days!
It was now dark and we thought it was electrics, but with a flat battery we were in sore trouble, Then along came "can I help?", it was an A.A. man.
We weren't members, but he said
he would give it a look over. We explained it was the
electrics, possibly the distributor. Ten minutes later he
said "lt's obvious" there's no spark plug in No 2.
I explained that If he looked down the plug hole he would
find no piston either. He didn't say a word, just walked to
his van and drove away.
I phoned my long-suffering father who said he would collect
us in the morning with a towrope. I took off the steering
wheel to give more room, and without the benefit of a hood
we eventually went to sleep. We got some odd looks from a
crowded High Street when we awoke, though. Two men in a
funny car with bonnet open, no steering wheel and a pool of
oil underneath, but I had dreamed of V-twins and. racing
round Brook lands, would it come true? Read on.
   
|