A story I've shared with no one since it happened:
Back in the early eighties, I owned a TR-3A during my college years
(TS56016 - anyone seen it?) You know the story - "I'll only put 5 bucks
worth of gas in, otherwise I won't have enough left for food." Since the
fuel gauge was none too reliable, I kept the handy fuel level stick in the
car. Operation was simple - come to a stop light, reach back, pop the
filler cap, dip the stick, and see how much got wet. Technology at it's
finest. Good thing a TR-3 doesn't weigh very much, 'cause I pushed that
car to half the gas stations in San Jose.
Anyway, during my senior year, I decided that after three of body work and
rustoleum primer gray, it was time to finally paint my pride and joy. Not
having a place to call my own, I finagled the use of my sister's garage to
spray the car. Of course, all the tools were at my grandparent's, so
that's where I stripped off everything that could be stripped, except the
license plate. I only got pulled over once for driving without frivolous
accessories like lights, bumpers, handles, a windscreen, or gas cap. I did
have a license plate, so he let me off with a warning, and told me to leave
the car where it was until I could tow it away. Of course, as soon as he
left, I was out of there, using every back road I could find.
After getting to my sister's, I did the final wet sand, degreasing, and
masking. By that time, it was time for dinner, so I needed to get the car
from the driveway back into the rather narrow garage. For reasons that
I've flushed from memory, I couldn't push the car into the garage, nor
could I drive in since the cockpit was thoroughly masked over with
newspapers. Instead, I got clever, and thought, "I'll put it in gear, push
the starter button, and use the starter to bump the car forward." So I
carefully pulled up the masking in the door cutaway, reached through, put
the car in first, turned the ignition on, and pushed the button.
Remember that thread on how hard Triumphs can be to start? Hah, not this
car! The engine turned over maybe once, it caught and I fell back on my
rear watching the car running at full speed into the garage. The good news
was that it didn't go through the rear wall. The bad news was that it
completely destroyed the oak workbench it hit at about five miles an hour.
And needless to say, the front of the car didn't look much better than the
bench. I guess I can consider myself lucky I had stripped all the trim
off, so only the sheetmetal in the nose got destroyed, not my expensive new
grill. I spent two more days repairing what had been a pristine front end,
all because I thought I would save some time by not unmasking the drivers
seat.
And I never did rebuild the workbench. But I did finally get a
beeeyootiful coat of BRG on the car...
Do I win?
Jim Brooks
'58 TR3A ("Almost runs, really, I swear." "Do you know much these things
go for when they're restored?")
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