Back Issue 145

ASHWORTH COMP

As my motor was in dry dock I had the honour of being team manager and
chief mechanic for the day. This is a very serious task as Steve needs all
the help and assistance he can get to come away with a pot. The first heart-
stopping moment was when Graham jacked up the front wheels at scrutineering
to check on the bearings and stuff. He said they were fine, we said that they
couldn't be — but he insisted!

There were eight motors in class two and as I discussed with Steve the main
rivals from the class we decided that there were at least seven!

Tim was to sit in with Steve and having only been in one comp before I did
not expect too much feedback from him, but. some of his observations during
the day proved that he had soon become accustomed to Steve's driving. Some
of these observations are not for print but have been noted and entered in
Steve's file.

I felt, as the team walked the course, that a can of white paint would have
been a good idea. as several times Steve and Tim were losing their way and
some very big white arrows painted on the moor would have been a big help.

On the practice run Steve achieved a double loop somewhere down the bottom
of the course and needed to be shown the correct way by a lady marshal
— was there to be any hope?

After the first two runs Steve was still in there battling it out with the slower
end of the class — but at least he hadn't hit a tree!

Lunchtime and a bit of gamesmanship comes into the equation. Peter Urwin
is having trouble finding his gears and after a quiet word from me he soon
has his motor on the trailer — 1 down. Robert Merrison had funny noises
coming from under his motor and after a few suggestions as to what it could
be his motor was also on his trailer — 2 down. A short walk down to the
bottom of the pits to have a word with Rod Depledge and a chance to check
on his engine bay. Neither Steven or myself could find anything wrong and
we were unable to persuade him to pack up. Still the field was reducing.

Steve performed reasonably well in the afternoon. The only two frightening
moments being when the overdrive linkage broke and then Steve taking flying

lessons after the finish — it was downhill.
At the end of the day, with Steve finishing second in class, I felt satisfied

with my performance. Steve, though, still has plently of room for
improvement.

ROB

"FLYING PIG Mk2' — THE LONG-AWAITED DEBUT

Flying Pig Mk1 got nicked before ever turning a wheel in anger — but that's
another story.

Flying Pig Mk2 began life in 1951, a good vintage by all accounts. Forty
very hard years later, he was sitting rusty and forlorn in a field by the side
of a moorland road. And then magically the guardian angel of "80s" passed
by. Far too much money changed hands in persuading a reluctant owner to
part with this much neglected steed.

The prospect of being moved from what he thought was his final resting place,
was too much for the old pig. (That's Lancashire slang for Landrover). Tyres

suddenly went flat overnight, the carb mysteriously dismantled itself, wheel
nuts seized, brakes seized, fuel pump died . . . you get the picture? Even
the new winch cable snapped when finally winching the reluctant pig on to
the trailer . . . Off he went. 50 yards backwards down the road with us in
hot pursuit and fell in a ditch. No joke! It took a severe yank with the rope
to get him out. Then 'Brains' tied a quick granny knot in the cable and tried
again. Followed by much lashing down with ropes and chains to prevent any
more bad behaviour on the way home.

Later that same day . . .

A very worn carb was put back together.

A knackered fuel pump was coaxed back into life.

Big jump leads were connected.

Press the red button . . . whirrr whirrr whirrrr . . . cough . . . sneeze (etc).
VROOM! VROOM! It bloody well runs! Great clouds of rusty smoke (?)
from the exhaust splattered all over the wife's motor. A quick check to see
if all the gears were present and correct, and then having evicted "Yellow"
from his garage, reverse in for some serious work to begin. TOTAL
DISMANTLEMENT!

Body off. Pile it up on the wife's rose bed. (Poxy roses anyway).

Engine out, (this engine actually now propels "Old Yellow" following a
major disagreement between Yellow and Jack Frost which unfortunately Jack
won. But that's another story!)

Bulkhead off. (fell off! with the help of Brains's hammer). . .
Heath (Sorry, Heath!) Robinson wiring loom in the bin . . .
Braking system in the bin . . .
Front hubs, swivels, etc., in the bin.

As you might expect by now, the bin was full, and there was not a lot of
Landrover left. And that's the easy bit so far. putting it all back together
required a bit more head scratching.

Some weeks later . . .

Once again, too much money changed hands. (So the wife keeps telling me)
but the car started first time and ran well enough, and did seem to have been
looked after despite the onslaught of metal mice. Out with the engine, throw

the rest in the bin and there it sat on the drive (no room in the rose bed)
in a great pool of oil and muck.

don't do this, can't fit it like that, won't last five minutes. Don't believe any
of them! Much picking of other people's brains and scratching of other peopled
heads was going on in the background. No opportunity was missed to peek
under an open bonnet. Gradually the vision began to take shape. It really
could be done without butchering, or altering the external appearance. Nol
even any chassis mods! (That's one in the eye for all the disbelievers!).

For all those of you who are not interested in the real nitty gritty of how
it all went back together, I'll spare you the details (And for those who are
interested; you'll have to wait until next time) and skip to the title matter.

Tunshill farmyard is a real tight turn and the trailer was much too long tc
go round the gatepost. Unload the pig, reverse, do silly manoeuvre in the
lane and into the yard from the other direction.

Next section — good old water hole number 1. Visions from the past of V8's
dislike for water came swimming back as the water lapped over the little
650's. But "Flying Pig MkII" was made of sterner stuff and burbled clear
of the weeds to climb the final greasy banking with great style. What could
stop this 'Firth-shattering' performance? Section 6 could! The pig wouldn't
go up a little bank . . . "TEN" shouts my ex-favourite marshal . . .
"*****cks!" shouts I.

The other water hole provided some much needed relief when a blue pig
(not related to Yellow) fell in the deep end. But a lack of left lock became
"FPII's" downfall on this and a couple of later sections. (Must get Brains
to see to that before the next do).

Sadly, no pot today. "Flying Pig MkII" was beaten but not defeated, not
even overheated! They say it's like learning to trial all over again . . . They're
right.

And just for those few remaining members who haven't asked me yet . . .
THE RADIATOR CAME OFF AN EARLY VOLVO!