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'74 Spit Saga, LONG!

To: triumphs@autox.team.net
Subject: '74 Spit Saga, LONG!
From: tom.omalley@channel1.com (Tom Omalley)
Date: Mon, 23 Oct 1995 20:30:00 -0640
Organization: Channel 1(R) 617-864-0100 Info
    Dear SOL

       Sometime in early spring this year, I posted to this list
       that I had purchased a 1974 Spitfire with intentions "to get
       it running and presentable for the summer".  As seems often
       the case,  other priorities took over and the poor little red
       car sat neglected 'till late August. <sigh>

       Early on in the project I'd received a lotta help from this
       list in sorting out all manner of technical problems, but still
       ahead of me was tons of cosmetic work.  Mind you, I wasn't
       trying to *restore* this car....just get it "presentable".

       Of course, it wouldn't really take _that_ long to re-veneer
       the dash.  I mean....I can't be seen driving a Triumph with
       a tatty walnut dash, can I?  And then there were those rust
       blisters on the bonnet.  Could just dab some touch-up paint
       on those.  Still....I *do* have that little sand blasting
       gun I bought years ago.  But then I'd really hafta' paint
       the whole....

       I knew I'd really lost perspective of this whole thing when
       I caught myself painting the defroster vents no less than
       THREE times and I was still unhappy with their appearance. :-)

       My wife felt the same way, as their appearance in her oven
       was conflicting with her meal schedule.  She was actually
       very good about this, but she drew the line on sharing the
       oven in "real time", despite my perfectly rational arguments
       of energy conservation, etc.

       Perhaps if I'd married TerriAnn...

       Anyway, when I finnaly got over my first bout of shipwright's
       disease, I worked hastely to do what ever else was _required_
       to get this car on the road for at least a bit of fall weather
       driving.

       Soooooo...two weeks ago last Saturday I inserted the key and to
       my complete amazement the little Spit started up.  Of course,
       it's maiden voyage wasn't gonna be quite so easy...you knew
       that, right?

       Depress clutch after 5 months sitting...try 1st gear...LOUD
       GRIND!  Hmmmmm.  Check clutch fill level.....looks good.
       Try again....another loud grind....second gear same thing.
       Clutch pedal *feels* like it's doing something, but grinding
       persists.....cannot place car in _any_ gear.

       Light bulb goes off in head powered by haunting memories
       of brit-car digest archives...I have a FROZEN CLUTCH DISK!
       Geesh.  Ok...know what to do...stiff upper lip and all that
       rot. :-)  I'll start the car *in gear*.

       By this time the Spit is all warmed up, and it starts immediately
       and lurches forward uncovering the patch of decaying, sandy,
       "pimento red" grass it's been nesting on for half a year.
       'Course, I have no way to stop the car, and as I go chugging
       down the hill towards my neighbors house, I decide it might
       be wise to turn the steering wheel.  Up the hill we go again,
       running over the lawn sprinkler, barely missing the cat and
       snaking around all obsticles including my '84 Buick "Le Barge"
       until I barely eek a path out on to the public street. Whew!

       At this point I depress the clutch and do a series of
       jolting stop\starts until the bloody thing finally breaks
       free.....super!  Just in time too, as I was running up to a
       stop sign.  I test the clutch/gear engagement...all seems well
       so I decide to make a right turn and take it down the road
       a bit.  1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th...yup.....they're all there.

       About a mile away from home, I remember my own prediction
       about this first trip...the part about me breaking down
       and walking back.

       So....a quick u-turn and I'm heading back safely except
       that I detect a strong odor not unlike burning track shoes.
       <description stolen from "Rite of Passage" :-)>

       I'm only 50 feet from the driveway now, but black smoke
       is *pouring* out from under the bonnet.  I cut the wheel
       to enter and at that exact instant the dash lights flicker
       and die...and so does the car.  Really. I continue coasting
       to my original spot, jump out and fling open the bonnet
       to find the battery /bulkhead ground strap burning to a
       crisp.

       Apparantly the little beast felt it needed to let me know
       right then and there, that despite the fact I was armed
       with gigabytes of SOL/Triumph digest wisdom, *IT* was in
       control of the horizontal, vertical, etc. :-)

       Diagnosis:  The DPO had installed the wrong battery, with
       a positive cable routing under a sharp edge of the now
       animated bonned.  Dead short to ground.  Looked a LOT
       worse than it actually was...

       After fixing the battery problem, I actually started driving
       this car, and I"m having a ton of fun with it!  Sure, it's got
       it's share of classic Spit troubles, but we'll sneak up on
       those during the coming weeks, months, years. :-)  For now
       I just wanted to say "Thanks", to the members of the this
       group for helping me get this thing rolling.


Regards...Tom O'Malley

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