Thursday, 26 November 2009
Not sure who built this and really not sure how I managed to miss it lurking in the trees at the entrance to Sheepskull lane but this is The Lookout.
Another day of appalling weather, temper and mud. Rene is in need of a new MOT and as usual something nasty went wrong minutes before delivery to the mechanics. The hideous metallic grating sound revealed itself as worn brake pads on the back drivers side and as I am so expert at all things mechanical, and as I just knew where some brake fluid was and instantly found the magic wheel nut that undid the special head lock nuts on his alloys whilst coincidentally having a new set of brake pads that came when I bought the brute I dutifully set about saving money by grovelling in the mud and being a real man mechanic. Warning signs that all would not go smoothly were apparent from the outset but I chose to ignore them, things like only finding 3 out of four pads was a trifle annoying but I persevered. Soon the wheel was off, I was wet and dirty, but after a quick check I found the pads were in fact the ones required and all was well. Except for one millimetre of bother.
The nut on the brake pipe was 11mm. The spanner set was deficit 11mm. I took a deep breath while the Berners were sat around waiting for the excitement to begin. Not wanting to fail I searched the workshop, no lack of spanner would stop me today. An hour passed and I had amassed three 12mm spanners, two 10mm, an 11mm socket that was not deep enough to fit, a broken adjustable wrench, four assorted screwdrivers, a solid paintbrush, a drill with a flat battery, chaffed knuckles and a seething temper. The Berners were treated to a homage to Basil Fawlty as Rene was kicked, told that there was always one and he was it, reassembled, left in the rain and ignored. A soothing cuppa was delivered by my oh so patient (and really poorly) and beautiful wife who told me not to worry as the nice man called Steve at the garage would fix it. The only highlight of the day was that I found the fourth pad buried in sheep pooh in the back of the heavily soiled Rx4. I knew it would be there,I am after all a champion hoarder and the throwing away of a new brake pad, whether it fitted or not would have caused me endless sleepless nights.
Posted by Tony at 21:28