And it’s raining. Other than that, everything is good. I’ve been fixing one of my vehicles, and it wasn’t as hard as I imagined. The difficult part was having to get the engine cover off, because there is a fastening at the back which is obscured by a bunch of stuff. I watched a Youtube video about this, and the dude dismantled a whole bunch of things that were supposedly in the way so he could get to the back fastener. Turns out you can remove it with an Allen key without removing anything else at all. This is what I mean about the youtube experts. They’re fools a lot of the time. When it came for me to get the engine cover off, I unscrewed the two bolts at the front and felt around at the back with the Allen key so I could unscrew that one. In fact it was missing. Someone had decided that it was too hard to put it back, so they just left it off. Fuck me, I thought, I’m glad I didn’t dismantle half the fucking car, because I didn’t need to.
This will make sense later on..
Working on vehicles is not new to me. Because I didn’t have a lot of money when I was in my twenties, I had to get by with older, cheaper vehicles which I had to repair myself. My preference was for English cars. In fact, back then you could buy a beautiful vintage Riley 2.5 liter saloon for a few hundred bucks. The same car today is worth about $25K , if you could get one in the US. That’s not a bad price. I’d seriously consider it. There’s one for auction in Fort Lauderdale, Florida which they want $60,000 – $70,000 USD. It’s not been sold yet. I’d probably have to go and like in the UK, for a reasonably priced one, but that’s not happening.
Spartan luxury. This is the interior of a 2.5 L Riley.
I love the old Rileys so much so that I have owned three different models over the years. The second one I bought was a 1939 Twelve Six. I bought it from a man who had maintained it meticulously for years. It took me about six months to almost completely destroy it through lack of care. The poor fellow I bought it from would have had a nervous breakdown if he knew. It’s horrible to think back at some of the stuff I did or didn’t do back then. The first Riley I owned went great until one day I was driving somewhere in Mount Waverley and hit the bottom of a steep hill with a thump. One of the rear springs had broken and the car forever limped along with one side lower than the other until I sold it. They would also regularly break axles, probably not helped by my rough driving.
1939 Twelve Six. That poor car…
Lastly, I bought a 1956 Pathfinder. It didn’t really have that vintage scrolled fenders look of the older models but the thing could fly. It was comfortable with leather seats and a roomy interior. I was going out with this girl at the time who was quite curvaceous, (and I don’t mean fat) and I always think of her when I see that model. (especially the headlights) I remember going to her mother’s house one evening, and the chairs and the sofa were all encased in plastic. It turns me on to this day thinking about it. Isn’t that weird?
The fabulous Riley Pathfinder.
Couch not covered in plastic = fail