Damage Repair

Damage Repair

All the examinations and problem diagnostics are over; it is time to rebuild Bridget in preparation for next year’s run. The experts have identified the damaged box structure of Bridget’s chassis, the distorted floor pan, and the damaged passenger seating anchor points. I now need to strip her down to the bare shell for the experts to repair and repaint. There is the usual gallery of pictures available of the progress made, stage by stage. There have been some surprises already and I am making some small changes to Bridget’s mechanics as I go along. These are mainly replacement of parts that are showing signs of ware, but also upgrading her timing chain to a duplex one. The surprises so far; when unbolting the engine mountings, one was found to have sheared off! So for the past six thousand miles she has only had one supporting mounting, which may have been the reason for the judder every time she pulled away. The second...
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Damage Analysis

Damage Analysis

Bridget arrived safely into Southampton on the 21st March and Alan and I fetched her back to Abingdon. She started first time which after three months without running was very good. She appeared to drive well for the sixty mile journey. I had arranged to take her first to Frontline Developments in Steventon to establish whether or not her body had been twisted when she was dropped. If so then the most probable remedy would be a new body shell. Alan noticed when following us back from the docks that she was 'crabbing', confirming what Bruce, in South Africa, told me. I wasn't hopeful. However, like a fretting father, I was worrying unnecessarily. Frontline pronounced that Bridget was one of the straighest Midgets they have checked for a long time. Her 'castor angle' is rather flat!! The castor angle is the angle, measured in degrees, formed between the axis of the kingpin and the perpendicular to the ground, looking at the vehicle...
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Out of Africa

Out of Africa

Waking a little after 8:00 am yesterday, the 16th December 2011, I was surveying the snow that had fallen overnight and recalling my drive in Clanwilliam only ten days earlier in 50°C. What am I doing here at home, in time for Christmas? Regular readers will know that I was met in Grunau, Namibia, by no less than ten South African MG enthusiasts in six MG cars; two midgets, three MGB GT’s, two of which were V8 versions, and one MG TF. What they may not realise is that the round trip for most of those people was over three thousand miles each. To me, that is truly the mark of friendship that is always proffered by the members of the MG Car Club. The welcome group was headed by Bruce Henderson, Chairman of South Cape MG Car Club, in a MG Midget and consisted of Ricky Cooper (MG Midget), Kevin and Jenny Loader (MG TF), Rob and Theresa Mercer-Tod (MGB GT), Stewart and...
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The Easy Bit

The Easy Bit

Arriving in Kongola mid-afternoon I saw several signs for lodges but for some reason wasn’t particularly drawn to them. Just as I was about to turn around and retrace my steps through the town I spied another sign for a lodge some two kilometres further on. I drove along and turned off onto a dirt road following the lodge signs. A further two kilometres down the dirt road and I came to a collection of crude buildings, a sign stating ‘Car Park’ and what looked like a gateway. I was just about to squeeze past the gateway when someone called out. I asked which way the lodge was and he said to take my bags out of the car and put them by realised how fortunate it was that I hadn’t squeezed past the gateway, for there was the river. Being so low down I wasn’t able to see the water from inside the car! This was the entrance to the...
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Hurry Up Africa

Hurry Up Africa

After leaving Songea I overnighted at Mbeya ready to cross the border into Zambia early the next day and then drive to Mpika, a distance of some two hundred and fifty miles. It rained from early evening all through the night and was still raining the next morning. This was to become something of a habit over the next week. I got up at six o’clock the next day, in darkness because of an electricity outage, washed and packed the car. Leaving at six-thirty as dawn broke; we motored up to the border only to find that it wasn’t open until seven-thirty African time, which meant shortly after eight o’clock. Fortunately we were processed through Tanzanian immigration and customs in a little over half an hour and made our way to Zambian immigration. They appeared very efficient and stamped my entry visa within minutes of our arrival; I thought at last we had found a border control that knew what they...
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