Flaming June. And July

It's been a while since I put anything here, and a lot's happened. Aside from anything else, it's suddenly got sunny! Hurrah!
After the last debacle with the Bedford, I checked the documents and found that the MoT was due to expire on the 3rd of July. Damn. The thing was pretty mangy, and while I could have spent a day or two adding yet more patch panels to hold the cab together, it would still be the same old shower of shite, but with a new MoT. It was still running rough, the brakes were still poo and the winch hadn't miraculously begun working. Plus the tax was due at the end of the month, and the Mustang's MoT is due in a week or two, so it was time to cut my losses and put it up for sale. I put it up for £500, which is a good deal less than half what I'd put into it, but I could either sell it or leave it hanging around waiting for me to find the time to work on it properly. And if there's one thing I'm not keen on having, it's another project.

I put it on Facebook, Rods'n'Sods and RetroRides, and it was via the latter that I got a call from someone who lives less than a mile from where it's stored. I was dead straight with him about it, and he still wanted to take a look, so he came around and had a look. Turns out he has a MkII Granada with a BOA Cossie V6 in. Nice.

Anyway, despite having looked at it first, he still wanted to buy it. "It's okay," he said, "my brother will help me out with it." "Is he a welder?" I asked. "No, he's an MoT tester..." Enough said, so if you see a bright orange CF transporter in your immediate vicinity, keep out of its way, don't cause it to brake suddenly or run over any bumps in the road that might cause parts to fall off.

I also finally put a few more hours into the MG Midget that's cluttering up the unit. It was brought in as a quick project as a favour to a friend. That was nearly four years ago. I expect I can remember where most of the bits are... I started wire brushing the boot floor and the inside of the rear wings. There's lots of welding been done on this car over the years, and so far it had all been done to a fairly high standard. By the time they got to the boot they were clearly pissed off with the job and did the "cut a plate, twat it to fit and weld where it touches" method. Bollocks to ripping it out and starting again, I'll just make the best of it. I also removed the fuel tank and emptied the 10-year-old fuel into the Mustang. It didn't seem to mind. Then I gave the tank a good going-over with the wire knot brush in the angle grinder, right up until I uncovered a nice rust hole in the top. Right, we'll put the nice, sparky power tools away and get the QuikSteel out... When it was all cleaned down, I gave it a good coat of Zinc 182, and thought a nice, thick Hammerite would work well. I checked through my old paint tins and found a tin of gold Hammerite. That'll do... I gave it a good coating and it looked like something that wouldn't look out of place on the parcel shelf of a minicab. Oh well, nobody'll see it.

And so to the Mustang. In preparation for the coming MoT, I thought I'd better give it its annual hoovering. Aside from the crusty sills, crispy A-pillars, crapulous strut towers and rapidly diminishing lower rear quarters, I found something else intriguing - the forward end of the towbar has almost pulled through the metal of the spare wheel well, causing it to split for about 7 or 8 inches. Arse. The list of possible MoT failure points goes on and on. If, by miracle, bribery or hard work (or combination thereof) this car gets another year's ticket, I think the coming winter will finish it off. Let's see...

On Saturday night I went up to York Raceway for the Sunday Super Stock, and as I was only racing in A/SS, there are no sign-on fees - bargain. It was a glorious drive up, windows open all the way, which is good - if the windows are closed, above 60mph the sunroof lifts about half an inch off its seal and whistles like the proverbial whore with a glass eye ... In fact, the shell is now getting so out-of-shape, very few things fit in their intended orifices any more but the exhaust fumes getting in around the bootlid stop you worrying about that. Or anything, for that matter. I arrived, the bar was closed! Good job I'd bought a couple of beers with me. Then I slept in the car. Or, rather, I didn't sleep in the car. I tried to sleep in the car, but really should know better at my age.

Sunday was an absolutely corking day, but in qualifying I struggled to a 15.1 then a 15.4 on a 14.9 dial-in. Damn. The transmission is beginning to pick its own shift points at random, even shifting manually, coupled with the fact that being more than 0.1 of a second off your dial wouldn't have got you inside the top 12 meant I was way down the field - the top half of the ladder was tighter than a bullfrog's bunghole. Then, in the first round, in the sweltering heat, the car pulled a 14.80 out of its arse and put me straight out! I didn't know whether to smile or spit - it was a NPB. Determined to make the most of it, I went out with the RWYBers and managed to get it down to 14.78. Tremendous.

In the event of the Mustang not passing its MoT in the next 10 days, I'm going to be on the lookout for a cheapo daily, ideally something that I can put on classic insurance, for just a couple of hundred quid. You know my penchant for the weird and unlovable, so any Yugos, Ladas, whatever... I've really got my dick out for a TR7 at the moment, and the feeling's not showing any signs of going away, either, so if you know of a TR7 that's on the road or not far off, let me know!

Eugene.