MrWolf

Looks more like a sheep wagon.

The drugs don't work....

This is why we're not allowed to have guns and shoot back...

That takes me back to being about ten years old when those Ergomatic cabbed AECs and Leyland lorries were becoming a rare sight, they rusted like mad I remember. Not seen one in years.

It's no different here though. I had to pay £27 over an £11 pair of windscreen wipers from America, but nothing for a £400 bumper.

Such wagons are £5-£10 each at exhibitions, usually the higher end, so he's not being too greedy if it's a missed decimal point. Hopefully he'll notice eventually.

Not guilty your honour, the whole rig is exactly as it was taken out. I blame the fitters at Mitchell's brewery sixty years ago. You're reminding me of the deep joy of grinding in taper plug valves and overhauling slam shuts, PRVs, NRVs and Roots blowers. Always installed in the most impractical of places, naturally! 🤣

That's the new M&SWJR section isn't it?

I was going to paint it green, but the only paint I could find was signal red. There was enough angst with it just being a tubular frame, far too ordinary for where it's going! And how long before a reader of nervous disposition decided that someone in my house had tired of finding ways to save native wild plants and decided to produce heavy water or bioweapons instead? We only just got away with it last time.

I'll get some pictures when it's installed, I'm rather looking forward to it myself. 😄

Not had much time to do anything else this week as I've been building a contraption. Or rather a rack for bottles of spirits using bits of old brewery pipework. Originally it was going to be just straight piping, but I found an old steam condensation trap and bypass and it was just too tempting to make something arty that gives the idea of an illicit still. No room in The Profanium at the moment, so I have had to borrow a bit elsewhere. I have managed to measure up for a post for the field gate below the tree and a few fence rails nailed between it and the tree in typical fashion. I've temporarily planted the tree to get the measurements for it.

I read the O.T. as far as them endorsing slavery and demonising women and thought - Nope!* But it does make you realise why they murdered the hero in part two. *Interchangeable with the other Abrahamic religions.

They look really convincing and remind me of the school buses we had in the 80s, most of them twenty years old and still plodding on. They all had impressive names such as Duple Vega and Plaxton Panorama, which always seemed a bit ironic. 😆

I hope it's ok to reproduce here for illustrative purposes. A Wills' N7 (Not N2 as I thought) posed over a shed inspection pit, used on a mid 1960s edition of MRC. Taken from Model Railway Constructor Annual 1983, published Ian Allan 1982* *I was eleven!!

Back on the subject of driving standards, I had an interesting experience on the way home tonight around 10:30. Coming home from a quiz night I was following a car out of the village which was trundling along just under 30mph, all fine so far, until we came to the 50mph section, clearly signposted and with repeaters. The car in front didn't speed up and there wasn't room to pass as traffic built up behind. Over a small roundabout and onto the bypass, a very wide single carriageway where the national limit applies. Still the car in front was doing about 28mph and hogging the white line. The road ahead being completely empty in both directions, I overtook the slowcoach and wound up to sixty, as did the three cars behind me. The driver of the slow car seemed oblivious to all of this. It was then I spotted the next car pull out and begin overtaking everyone, despite the fact that we were driving at or just over the limit. They were driving a tiny white Ford with a go faster stripe which barely seemed to have enough power to get past and the two occupants were staring across at us like they'd seen a flying saucer. They indicated and pulled across with a bit of a wobble and of course slowed down. I think that driver one was probably drunk and driver two had little idea of their or their car's limitations. That's the polite verdict BTW.

It ended when I was still in school somewhere mid eighties. I found it a very good read, I would say that BRM is the modern equivalent.

No worries, I have a nasty habit of trying (and failing) to keep my responses concise and end up jumping to the next thing I have in mind.

Dusted.

Yes, the mechanical bits are dropped in before the body is fitted. I've done a few Heralds and Spitfires over the years. Most other cars of the era you have to crawl about underneath to remove the gearbox, which is slightly less of a PITA than doing something FWD where it's easier to drop the whole engine and box out from underneath. The only really hateful job on a Triumph with a chassis is removing the differential, but still not as bad as the setup on 70s jaguars.

About 25 years ago I had a motorcycle stolen, it hadn't been on the road in decades so there was no logbook. I knew who had stolen it and contacted the police. It didn't even get to court. The thief swore blind I'd given it to them and had already sold it. No further action taken. I told the police that I knew where there was a 1940s Bentley rotting in a shed and was it alright if I went and dragged it out? No. That would be theft. But what if I insisted that someone gave it to me?

I take it you mean the world famous Flying Backwards?

Being in Lancashire, it's often heard when someone has something stolen that it will have been down at cash converters by 9am. When my late friend had his antiques and collectibles shop, we used to insist on taking photo ID from anyone coming in off the street selling items. It paid off a few times. Not that the perpetrators ever seemed to get locked up though.

The Haynes manuals probably missed the important bit about taking the four bolts out and removing the passenger seat. Even easier with both seats out. Not the most fun of jobs, but much better than crawling around under what is a very low car getting showered with muck with the 75lb gearbox balanced on your ribs trying to wriggle the input shaft back into the clutch splines..

Probably sold to them by a skinny chap with a nervous tic and no front teeth. Comes in every day regular as clockwork.

They did an N2 parked over the pit in a shed with the picture taken from down one end of the pit I recall. Long before my time, but it was shown in an article in one of the 1980s yearbooks.