Well, I made it back from California with the '64 E-type. I
flew in to Los Angeles on 10 July and immediately set out to assess
the damage caused by a year of inactivity. The elastic for the car
cover had completely deteriorated, allowing the cover to blow off
and rain to seep in. The rust under the spare wheel well grew
noticeably as a result; the plywood cover for the spare has also
started delaminating around the edges. If I ever leave the car
unattended again, it's going inside one of those automobile
baggies.
After reconnecting the battery, it started right up. This is a
good omen, I think. During the next week, I set about doing the
maintenance that you would expect a 30 year old car that hasn't
been driven regularly since '77 (last year of registration) would
require. After a couple of shake-down runs from Culver City to
Pasadena, I'm ready to head East.
I left LA last Monday (19 July) and made it as far as the first
gas stop before I had my first problem. The locking gas cap that
I just purchased to replace the existing one, which didn't fit, was
stuck. I had to give up on it after fifteen minutes of looking
like an incompetent thief. I drove back to Culver City and drilled
the cap off, taking extra care to not allow the innards and filings
to drop in the tank. I see the problem: the metal case
surrounding the cylinder has twisted, preventing it's extraction.
As I reach for a screwdriver to pry the metal closed, I momentarily
forget to retain a tight grip on the cap; it drops inside the tank.
After removing both the fuel pump and fuel sender, I discover the
futility of attempting to retrieve the cap guts; the tank has
baffles. Trak Auto is kind enough to exchange a new cap for the
chrome top, two keys, gasket and drill shavings--the remains of the
previous cap. I set out for NJ in ernest now, forgiving the Jag
for rejecting the "foreign" parts.
At the second gas stop in the California desert, the jag spits up
about a pint of coolant. Everything is hot, especially the
accelerator pedal. I wonder if this is such a bright idea, driving
to NJ. I have been trading off using right and left feet to
depress the accelerator; wonder how long I can continue to do this
without permanent damage to my feet. Milage is good, 23-24 MPG for
this first leg. I had been worried that it would be less than 10,
which it appears to be for city driving. I have just doubled --
more or less -- the total miles I have put on the car (~500 now).
Decide to continue.
As the day progresses, I watch the oil pressure drop. It starts
out at 60+ (pegged) when the engine is cold and stabilizes at about
40 when warm. After six hours of driving, it is down to 20. I
entertain two theories: the replica oil sender is temperature
sensitive, or the journal bearings are rusted and have made their
way into the copper (or beyond!) of the shell. At full throttle,
can't hear bearing knock -- at least it isn't as loud as the
preignition (92 octane is the highest available here). Decide the
sender is suspect, but feel a bit nervous about the other
possibility. The water temperature has been soaring too. It is
approaching 100 C. I have three gallons of water with me, but
wonder if it's enough to get me anywhere in case anything happens.
I toy with the idea that the instrument voltage regulator can't
take the heat. I replaced the heater/bimetallic strip that Jaguar
euphemistically calls a voltage regulator with a 7910 last summer,
thinking how clever I was. Now, driving along in the Arizona
desert I loosen the instrument panel and pull it back. A minute
later the temperature is reading close to 70 C. I wonder if that
Jaguar regulator had the correct built in temperature coefficient
to deal with the heat, or if it's just to damn hot for the 7910.
I make it 750 miles that day, just to the outskirts of Albuquerque,
New Mexico. The speedometer swings from 50-90 at steady speed. I
make a mental note to check into it in the morning.
The next morning I pull the speedometer cable through its housing
and regrease it to try to stabilize the speedometer, which started
to fluctuate wildly yesterday. When I start out, the reading is
stable, and better yet the oil pressure is back up to 60+.
Notwithstanding the cockpit heat, which feels as if the heater was
left on (it was off, most of the heat made its way in through the
firewall and floor), the day went off without a hitch, and I made
1000 miles on the second day, just outside Memphis, when I decided
to take a rest. The speedometer refused to be fixed, and after
some initial optimism reverted to its wild ways. Just before I
stopped for the night I was going about 90 mph and noticed that the
tires didn't seem to be balanced right. I was a bit annoyed by it,
since I had just had them balanced last summer before I put the car
in storage. The shop was reputable and I think they did a good
job. The tires were old but had little wear. After the mechanic
checked the tires, he said they were out of round and suggested
shaving them. I asked about new tires, and he said that although
old, the existing tires were serviceable and besides he didn't
carry the narrow (180) tires. I had all the tires shaved and
balanced (on the car) last summer before leaving the car in
storage. It road well, but I didn't try making a high speed run.
Well, the mosquitoes in Arkansas were unbearable, so I decided to
continue to Tennessee and stop there. After I get on the highway,
the car starts thumping, like the road had regularly spaced bumps.
After a minute of this and after the road texture obviously
changed, I accept the only conclusion and pull over to check the
tires. Sure enough, the front right tire is low; I check it with
the gauge and it registers 20 psi. Reluctantly I prepare to
replace it with the spare which means loosing the in-situ balance.
I had intended to start out with two flashlights and spare
batteries, but a last minute check revealed the batteries of the
large flashlight to be dead and one of the spares was leaking (they
had been kicking around inside the trunk of my Spitfire for about
5 years). Okay, so I get new batteries. When I try them out, the
flashlight doesn't work well and the reason is corrosion in the
switch. I try cleaning it, in the process of repeatedly unscrewing
the cap, the rivet holding the lower connector breaks loose.
Disgusted, I toss the flashlight in the trash, thinking I'll pick
one up at a gas station along the way. Of course none of the stops
on the first day had a flashlight, and by the second day I stopped
asking. Of course I hadn't bothered to check the backup
flashlight, a small maglight. Now outside of Memphis, I found out
that its batteries were dead too. One of the spares was also
swollen and didn't fit. Fortunately, I was able to make do with
one dead battery, one good spare and the light of passing trucks.
I repack the trunk, check the tire pressures on all the tires and
attempt to continue.
As soon as I'm off, it becomes clear that the problem hadn't been
the low tire. I strain to determine where the thumping is coming
from; it's from the rear tires, probably the left. I pull over
again and run my hand over the tread; it's got a blister about the
size of a cow's liver where the tread is starting to separate. I
sulk about and decide I'd rather deal with the problem off the
highway and limp to the nearest exit; I probably need to get to
Memphis to have the tire replaced and I wonder if I can limp the 20
miles there. It's about 3:00 am and now is the time to do it, when
the traffic is light. At the next truck stop I exit and find a
well lite parking lot outside of Truckers of America. I buy a
flashlight there and spare penlight batteries. I decide to put the
leaking tire back on the car and see how bad the leak is. If it is
slow enough, I can just pull over and fill it up often, otherwise,
I have a can of tire repair, which I can use as a last resort. The
later reminds me of a "cure" for obesity: tapeworm eggs. The
instructions were to take one pill and call your doctor when you
have lost enough weight. With the tire repair, you squirt the
contents into your tire and confess your sins to the nearest tire
jockey.
Fortunately, it didn't come to that. As I fill the tire (with
air), I hear and feel air leaking from the stem. At first I think
it's the valve, but a finger placed over the valve quickly showed
the leak to be elsewhere. Next, I thought the air was leaking from
the stem/rim joint; this could mean a sizable leak anywhere that
makes its way to the atmosphere by snaking along between the inner
tube and tire and then by the stem. It doesn't feel like it's
coming from there, though. It feels like the leak is from between
the valve stem and the metal insert that the valve screws in. A
squirt with water confirms this. I drain the tire, pry the rubber
from the metal insert and fill the tear with silicone gasket
sealant. I have a small hose clamp to hold the rubber closed, but
decide instead on a short section of 1/4" fuel hose. This fits
great (better than the clamp would have on the stem taper) and is
held securely in place by the cap. I fill the tire and check for
leaks; none are obvious, so I mount the tire. I go back into TA to
change my cloths--I brought a mechanic's suit for just such an
occasion, but I had been using it for back support and had finally
gotten it folded comfortably right. I was a mess, but no one said
anything to me as I made my way to the bathroom. Naturally all the
truckers hit the bathroom at 4:50 in preparation for their 5:00
departure.
The Jaguar glided back onto I40, and I thought about my prospects
of finding a shop to handle my tires in Memphis. On the way I see
an abandoned MGB off to the side. Too bad the owner is gone, I
would have stopped to commiserate. Soon after I purchased my '66
Spitfire, the tread separated on one tire. I thought it to be a
freak thing and just replace the one tire. Within a few weeks
another went and then another. By the time the third tread lifted,
it dawned on me that I ought to just replace everything, including
the spare. I wondered how many more miles I had on the three
remaining tires on the Jag before they went too. I decided to
limit my speed to 55-60 mph for the remainder of the trip home.
When I got to Memphis, I decided to buy the new tires as a set, and
that I would feel better doing it in NJ where I can check out the
shop and possibly order the tires that I really want in advance.
Besides, I have just pulled off a classic LBC (does the E-type
qualify as a _LITTLE_ British Car?) repair and had to tempt fate a
little for the vicarious thrills of this group. I stopped
regularly to check the tires Wednesday morning; 10, 20, 50, 100
miles--everything appeared to be in order and the repair was
holding. Tennessee is a beautiful state and even more so at only
60 mph, especially when you haven't had a night's sleep. I make
750 miles despite the tire problems and get some shuteye about 100
miles into Virginia.
Thursday is a day of increasing confidence and by the time I hit
the Pennsylvania turnpike I am no longer limiting my speed and
traveling more or less with the flow of traffic (75-80). I roll
into Princeton at 2:30 about 72 hours after I left LA (the second
time), weary, but intact.
-greg
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