Amazing breakdowns

[SierraMikeHotel]

Breaking down in Phantom V. That is style. If there was an 'amazing breakdowns' thread I think it would difficult to top that.

Well, we do now!

 

I'll kick off with the week I'd finally decided to sell my accursed Citroën CX. It has always been unreliable but I figured it should be able to make it from Orpington to Brighton and back for a night out with old colleagues. It was due to be sold so I'd cleared everything out of it, tools included.

 

I got just past Pease Pottage before the car cut out, with no warning, while I was in lane three passing slower traffic.

 

(This does always make me wonder why you see stuff broken down in the live make so often - I've always managed to coast to a halt somewhere safe. If the car has a catastrophic failure at 70mph you've got maybe three miles to find a safe place to stop. Car brakes aren't like train brakes).

 

I waited about five hours for recovery. They were busy so recovered me home without even trying to make a repair.

 

Looked over the car the following morning: one of the carb jets was blocked. Fixed it with a screwdriver and a pin.

[SierraMikeHotel]

The name of the poster who inspired this has disappeared and I can't remember who it was or from which thread, sorry...

[Tadhg Tiogar]

....got just past Pease Pottage before the car cut out, with no warning, while I was in lane three passing slower traffic.

 

...Looked over the car the following morning: one of the carb jets was blocked. Fixed it with a screwdriver and a pin.

 

The fix seems almost an anti-climax.

[Saabnut]

Bentley T2 Turbo - visiting a friend with a paint shop to get an estimate for work. Based in Yorkshire. Estimate done head for home. Approx 3 miles later, hit a pothole, spring cup for rear n/s spring collapses, shock absorber hits tarmac. AA recovery back to Aberdeenshire.

 

Several months collect car from paintshop having been dropped off by a mate. Carefully avoid pothole after 3 miles, and less than a quarter mile later car cuts out. No spark. As this car has a later Turbo engine, no one thought it might have a CPS. AA truck home to Aberdeenshire.

 

A year or so later, car makes it to Le Mans without incident. On the way back, come off the tunnel train, just past Folkestone services, hydraulic pipe for brakes/suspension system ala Citroen splits spraying the turbo with oil. Fortunately no fire, but AA truck back to Aberdeenshire.

 

Sadly this is far from the most unreliable car in the fleet.....

[Guest Hooli]

But it is one of the most desirable in the fleet.

[Tadhg Tiogar]

Bentley T2 Turbo - visiting a friend with a paint shop to get an estimate for work. Based in Yorkshire. Estimate done head for home. Approx 3 miles later, hit a pothole, spring cup for rear n/s spring collapses, shock absorber hits tarmac. AA recovery back to Aberdeenshire.

 

Several months collect car from paintshop having been dropped off by a mate. Carefully avoid pothole after 3 miles, and less than a quarter mile later car cuts out. No spark. As this car has a later Turbo engine, no one thought it might have a CPS. AA truck home to Aberdeenshire.

 

A year or so later, car makes it to Le Mans without incident. On the way back, come off the tunnel train, just past Folkestone services, hydraulic pipe for brakes/suspension system ala Citroen splits spraying the turbo with oil. Fortunately no fire, but AA truck back to Aberdeenshire.

 

Sadly this is far from the most unreliable car in the fleet.....

D'ye not think the AA recovery crews take bets on when they think the next Bentley FTP will be?

[Schaefft]

I think I'll just copy this post from my thread to describe the adventures I had on my trip from Germany to Dover. Please note that this happened after the car popped a coolant hose in Italy and was towed back to Germany to have it replaced. My European breakdown cover was canceled by ADAC not long after lol.

 

Sorry for the long text, but I really think it is worth the read as you couldn't make up a story like this.

 

So I've basically booked a flight for last Friday to fly over to Germany and pick up the car from my parent's home where it was stored after getting the hose replaced. I decided against taking the usual ferry trip from Amsterdam to Newcastle (where I live) because DFDS felt like cranking up the prices by at least 100% because holidays yo. So what I did instead was doing the smart* thing and take the ferry from Dunkirk to Dover instead, which was about 900km/8 hours away from my parent's, and drive through most of England from Dover to Newcastle (580km/5.5 hours) right after.

 

Obviously, since doing this in a 26 year old car that I have driven for a grand total of maybe 4 days over the last 2 months before it broke down wasn't interesting enough, I thought offering people a ride on the hitchhiker app BlaBlaCar would be a good way to get some money back. And while the person that sent a request first was a very pleasant fellow (guy from Gambia living in Antwerp who's exporting cars to his home country for a living, very interesting conversations!), I quickly realized that it would become super close time wise if I wanted to arrive at the Dunkirk ferry terminal in time for the 10pm crossing.

 

As it turned out, after dropping the guy off, it would take me 15 minutes more from Antwerp to Dunkirk than I had, so flooring it for most of the way (as did many other British on their way there it seems) was the only solution. But that would still be too easy! It also turned out that I had exactly!! the amount of fuel in my tank to make it to the ferry terminal, and not a single kilometer further. Well, as it turns out, the range display of the 1991 Opel Senator was exceedingly accurate... Out of fear of missing the ferry, I decided against filling up the tank, and drove straight to the terminal (not without possibly being caught in a radar trap not far from the ferry...). I didn't make it for the 10pm ferry, but got rebooked for the next one 2 hours later at midnight, something I wasn’t aware was even possible.

 

Problem solved right? No. The car ran out of fuel literally within the border control checkpoint and wouldn't start anymore. Fun times.

So close, yet so far...

 

With a bit of help I managed to push it through the gate. Fortunately, in cases like this, I was able to rely on my "Plus" membership with the Gelben Engel, who would quickly send me a jerrycan of fuel to get me on my way again. Normally, the story would end here, I would fill up my tank with some sweet sweet petrol, get on the ferry to Dover in time and drive a few hours before I arrive at home. But fate was especially cruel on that day (or I was especially stupid, if the stupidity of the previous hours could be topped).

 

While being on the phone with the ADAC, one of the border control guards came to me, offering me his help in broken English (English definitely isn’t mandatory for border control in France it seems...). His colleague would show up in a few minutes with a canister of fuel so I could get on the ferry in time and be gone for good. I quickly told the ADAC on the other side of the line that the problem was solved, and that they wouldn't need to worry about me anymore. And indeed, just a few minutes later someone showed up, with a jerrycan full of fresh fuel, and quickly began filling it into my tank (not without pouring half of it on the ground in the process). Once done, I quickly swung myself into the driver seat of my trusty Senator (which made it there without a hitch, I should note here, before running out of fuel) to turn the key and start it up. And so I did, apart from the actual starting part. Which didn't quite work out as I had expected. The car would crank normally, but the engine wouldn't start running. Okay I thought, the fuel lines probably are bone dry and the fuel needs to reach the injectors first so lets try that again. And again, nothing. At that point I slowly started to worry. The border security guard, along with his two buddies (one of which brought me the fuel), were patiently waiting for a sign of life from the car right next to me. So let’s just try that again, this time with some pedal pumping because why not. Again, nothing but an ill-fated attempt at starting the Opel. My worries now really started to grow. Not only was the clock quickly approaching midnight, what would happen if a vital component of the Senator's 26 year old fuel system decided to bite the dust (literally) because a lack of fuel in the tank? Maybe it was just a clogged up fuel filter from any potential sediments that might have been in the tank?

 

The guards seemed to become a little more worried as well now. Not knowing what might cause the starting problems, they began to search for something in the engine bay (From what I understood, they were looking for some kind of auxiliary fuel pump that would help getting the fuel to the engine...? Hard to tell when you are communicating with basic vocabulary and your hands). We tried starting the car a few more times, without any real success. Realizing that the car wouldn't be running again, I decided to call back the ADAC and tell them what happened. They've sent over a tow truck which showed up about an hour later. One of the remaining guards quickly explained to the driver what happened, and the car was prepared to be loaded onto the truck. It was clear that I wouldn't go anywhere on that night, so I got in the truck and started to organize my stay at a hotel.

This is slowly becoming a tradition

 

On my way there, the truth was finally being revealed (again, in slightly worse broken English than before). As it turned out, the jerrycan delivered by one of the harbor terminal personnel wasn't containing petrol (at that point, it is worth noting that the Opel Senator B was only offered with petrol engines during its entire production run, one of them being my 3.0 24V). It was in fact 10 liters of Diesel that the guy filled into my car. At no point was the word Diesel mentioned in any of the conversations I had with the terminal staff (a word that has exactly the same meaning in French btw). At the very least, the guy filling the contents of the jerrycan into my car (well, half of it, the rest went onto his hands/the ground) should have noticed the nice, conveniently placed sticker right on the inside of the gas cap only centimeters from his face, stating what type of fuel is supposed to be used in this type of automobile. "95/98" should be enough information for pretty much anyone on the planet to figure it out. But by then it was too late, and the fuel system of the Opel was filled with Diesel. In hindsight, I really should have confirmed first that the fuel he brought me wasn’t Diesel, but you are always smarter afterwards. Fortunately, this meant that there was at least the possibility of getting back on the road again, as pumping the Diesel out of the tank and filling it with petrol would be all that's needed in most such cases. And while we stopped at the next petrol station to at least make an attempt, we couldn't really proceed as French petrol station now mostly seem to be entirely automated, which means you can only pay by card.

 

This wouldn't be a problem if my German EC card wasn't being rejected by the French fuel pump. At no time in my life have I ever had any trouble of not being able to pay with this card in a foreign country. But on this night, at this petrol station, it would be simply rejected and not work. This basically solidified my fate, I would need to stay in Dunkirk until my car was hopefully fixed on the next day. I was dropped of at a pretty questionable hotel between a motorway and retail park at 2am in the morning. After a few moments of psychological terror from fear of not being able to pay for the room with my German EC card (it worked perfectly fine...), I got my room and went to bed. Maybe I should also mention that I was expected to show up at work at 10 in the UK on the next morning...

My humble accommodation for the night

 

The next morning, I called both the Garage that would fix my car and the ADAC to figure out what to do next (thank god roaming costs for mobile plans in the EU were abandoned in June...). The mechanic would look at the car trying to figure out what to do next, and I would later get a call telling me whether they were successful or not. Of course I would not hear back from them before I had to check out of the hotel, so I spent roughly 5 hours in the run down mall next door (with only a single working toilette), trying to come up with a plan how to get from Dunkirk back into the UK without having a car. At that point, I was fairly sure that the car would not be fixed by simply replacing the fuel in the tank. After several attempts of starting the engine, the combustion chambers must have been flooded with Diesel, and I cannot imagine the filter or injectors not being completely clogged up by the time the car was towed out of the terminal.

 

Well, as it turned out, the garage did manage to get the car running again! God was I glad to hear this! I would be able to drive the car back to the UK and not have to abandon it again in another country, without a plan for how to get it and the parts for my other cars inside where they needed to be, or myself back to work. I quickly went back to the hotel I stayed in the night before, asked them to order a taxi for me, and got to the garage as fast as I could (as I only got the confirmation after 5pm, and the garage closed at 6 - but hey, 2 hour lunch breaks on every weekday, why not?...)

The Senator finally ready to escape from Dunkirk

 

I picked up the car (still stuttering noticeably under 2000rpm) and got back to the ferry terminal where I quickly bought another ticket which of course was almost twice as expensive as my previous one as it was booked on the day of traveling. Nothing quite like ripping people in need off wherever you can.

Made on the ferry after only failing once!

 

I got on the ferry by 8pm, arrived in Dover at 9pm (local time), drove to the next petrol station to fill up the tank, and got on my way back to Newcastle. Since I didn't sleep much on the night before, I was pretty tired and decided to stay at a Cambridge service station and take a 2.5 hour nap (free parking only for 3 hours). I got up at about 2.45pm and drove 225 miles back to Newcastle where I arrived at 6.30am in the morning. Surprisingly, I felt less tired as soon as the sun came up, otherwise I would have needed to make another stop and have another short nap before finishing my highly disturbing road trip.

The Senator finally arriving at the sanctuary

 

And that was it! Easy, wasn't it? I didn't wanna go into much more details about various other problems I had encountered during this odyssey as the post is filling several books already. But I thought it would be worth sharing my experiences over the last couple of days. Interestingly enough, through all this crap, the Senator never showed a sign of weakness (even after being run out of petrol and filled up with Diesel...). At least, this story proves that old cheap cars can be reliable transportation if you don't make borderline retarded decisions, and that it's not worth rushing to catch an appointment as you risk a lot more than being too late for a ferry (or whatever you are rushing to).

[Junkman]

I'll kick off with the week I'd finally decided to sell my accursed Citroën CX.

 

That's the bloody best idea you had in a decade or three.

[vulgalour]

It's 2011, I think, and I was happily bumbling about in a Mk2 Polo.  On this particular trip, me, my brother, his pregnant girlfriend, and their pet (a cat, or a guinea pig, one or the other) were heading to a car show.  Pre-satnav for me so we were relying on maps and remembered directions.  All was going very well and as we neared the destination we got a little tiny bit lost.  Spotting a modified VW Camper, we decided to follow it since there was a very good chance it was heading where we wanted to go.

 

Came off the motorway and the car started to lose power.  Then the car died completely.  I didn't actually have any breakdown cover, and only limited tools and knowledge, so all we could figure out was that the spark had disappeared and nothing we did could get it back.

 

I also had no credit or signal on my mobile.  I also had no idea what road we were on, because at the point we broke down, the camper and all other signs of life DISAPPEARED.

 

Brother called a few recovery services and none were willing to come out unless we paid a full year's subscription up front, which none of us could afford.  So, time to call friends and family.  Normally someone was available but not so this time.  We got desperate and I started to call people who I wasn't even sure had a car.  Eventually, a friend miles and miles away said they'd rescue us.

 

Then it started raining.

 

Said friend eventually turned up in his brand new Polo, everyone abandoned me to my fate in my old Polo while they sat in comfort in the tow vehicle.  Had I ever been towed before?  Why no, but I knew the theory.  Had my friend ever towed before?  Of course not, but how hard could it be.

 

Off we set BANG.  Yeah... er... that theory I was talking about, you have to take up the slack before setting off otherwise you risk pulling the front of my car or the back of your car straight off.  Off we set again.  BANG BANG... BANG...

 

Oof.

 

Eventually friend got the hang of it and I held on for dear life as he started trying to tow me along at 50mph on a rope that was shorter than my stopping distance at those speeds and with more momentum than I really appreciated around the bends.  Eventually, I almost relaxed, the rain increased.

 

Then there was a roundabout.  My friend forgot there was a car on the back of his car.  He set off for a gap that was barely big enough for one Polo, and certainly not big enough for two with a rope between them.  I was sure I was about to die.  Set off BANG BANG BANG and that's the tailgate throwing itself open and he's blasting across the roundabout and my horn dies so I can't beep and he's oblivious to my flashing lights.  Someone in the new Polo tells him to stop as we get over the roundabout and lessons are given on towing, safe speeds, etc.

 

As we pull onto the Parkway in Sheffield my battery finally dies.  The rain gets heavier.  I have to use hand signals in heavy traffic, I can barely see where I'm going.  By the time we get home I'm exhausted, friend vows never to tow anyone again and we all agree it was a great adventure but let's never do this.

 

I get some break down cover organised.

 

When I had recovered and had time to investigate, the cause of the breakdown was that somehow the plastic component of my points had completed melted, something I had never seen a car do before or since.

[sutty2006]

I broke down in the mercury a few months ago. It had always had a slight oil leak from the oil cooler line into the radiator at the front. The leak had progressively became worse and I removed the pipe from the car to have it repaired. A pain in the arse job because the pipe was obviously fitted first before everything else had been built over it. After having the pipe permanently temporarily fixed we did stars n stripes show this year and it was parked up in the barn afterwards. When I next went to the car and ran it, the long metal pipe began to leak, this time from further down the line on the metal section. Once again the pipe was pain stakingly removed from the car and returned to the shop it was previously fixed it. This time I had a high pressure hose made up using the original ends (as being American new ones aren’t easy to find). I refitted the hose, bleed the system and take the car back home to clean it up. I was 3 miles from home when I looked in the mirror to see something along the lines of uncle bucks smokey old nail sailing down the road. I pulled into a bus stop 2.8 miles from home to check the damage. There was ATF dripping from everywhere underneath. As far back as the rear mud flaps. Balls. The pipe had burst at the front by the radiator on a joint. Phoned the AA. All I wanted was a tow home. The AA guy came out and wanted to order a truck, and being 4:30pm I refused and told him to drag me home on a rope. We removed the prop and made its journey back on a strap. I once again removed the pipe and took it back. It was sorted, refitted and has been fine since.

[beko1987]

The day the aux belt let go and made sweet love with the cambelt in the xantia! Was merrily driving to work, along the same bit of road I always do, when with no noises, stuttering or anything of note the engine stopped and the stop light came on.

 

gosh how odd... Heaved it over to a side road with the momentum that wa sleft, it wouldn't restart. Finally got it going, plumes of thick white smoke everywhere and it wouldn't run without loads of revs. Posted on here at the time actually, deduced that the aux belt was missing and there's bits of it poking out by the cambelt... (no cover was fitted).

 

Aa home! 2 days later armed with a cambelt, another round of very helpful people on here and a phonecall from wor' will, it was re timed, back together and we did another 8000ish miles together before I sold it to get the blue laguna! It did some happy miles for the new owner too before putting a rod through the sump some months later...

[Snipes]

http://autoshite.com/topic/8243-your-shite-conked-out/

[lesapandre]

The name of the poster who inspired this has disappeared and I can't remember who it was or from which thread, sorry...

I think I zuggested the thread. The Phantom V'er I will look for - not me... found  them : Anonymous User

[Dan_ZTT]

Not my car but a few years back I was driving through Gerrards Cross (posh) and passed an almost-new Bentley Continental conked out at the side of the road. Then noticed the owner was filling it up from a jerry can... made me chuckle.

[Tamworthbay]

Going to France on my old VFR750 circa 1995, eight of us in convoy heading towards Dover when a Land Rover in front had a massive engine or gearbox failure, it spat its guts out out with bits visibly bouncing around over the road and a massive smear of oil down the middle of the carriageway. We parted like the Red Sea to avoid the oil and car. Half a mile on I wiped my visor for what I thought was water mist only to find it smeared as it was a fine film of oil. Never seen a car do anything like that apart from in cartoons.

[chaseracer]

Late December 2008, Michaelwood services, M5 northbound...

 

 

Mine's the one in the middle, with a dead alternator, swapping for the charged battery from my mate Martin's car.  Again.  We went all the way from Salisbury Plain to WS12 like this.

[GrumpiusMaximus]

A minor one but a bloke at work (a serial shiter but sadly not on here) apologises the other day for taking my parking space so that he could fit the spare battery into his wife’s Ford Galaxy to start it. Apparently there’s a drain somewhere so he has to have two batteries on him at all times...

[bigstraight6]

About 17 years ago I was running a 1988 Volvo 340 with the 1700cc Renault engine that I’d paid £500 for and was on a round trip from Plymouth to Bristol, we had just started to return leg of the trip and were climbing a steep hill out of Clifton when there was a slight bang and the car seemed to only be running on 3 cylinders, I had a look under the bonnet in the dark and couldn’t see anything obvious so decided to press on running on 3 and the car got us home though it struggled on the hills.

Next day I made a start to fix it and decided to take the plugs out and found that the electrode and end completely missing on one so I feared the worst. I went to the local Halfords and got a set of new plugs, bunged them in, had a quick prayer and started the car. It ran perfectly! The bits of spark plug must have passed through the combustion chamber at precisely the right time.

That old Volvo continued to give excellent service for a few more years despite the current Mrs Straightsix trying to kill it by once reversing over a motorcycle and another time demolishing a wall with the car. Eventually sold it to a chef at my local curry house, I remember shaking hands with him in the kitchen next to the tandoori oven.

[lesapandre]

My own tale of matching Wolseleys...

 

My own modest breakdown story was when the big ends went on my 1968 Wolseley 6/110 (this was the mid- 80's) I was recovered by the AA and amazingly they already had a matching 6/110 on the back - so there were two Wolseley 110's both broken down at the same time on the same transporter. Different colours tho. What was even funnier - the other 110 owner ignored me completely even though we both drove the same (quite rare even by then) car. Funny old world as they say.

[anonymous user]

Embarrassing photograph of Rolls Royce failing to proceed.

 

We were in convoy taking two Phantom Vs the S3 Bentley and the buggy/contraption up to the shippers as friend was moving to Madeira. Following a bit of emergency braking on the M5 the back brakes on the lead Phantom decided to stick and start smoking so we got off the Motorway and into the services. We did get the brakes to free off but it looked like a hose was collapsing internally so recovery was called. After arguing that a suspended tow was not acceptable a suitable breakdown truck was despatched and arrived two hours later. By then three of us had moved up the Motorway one junction to wait (in a MacDonalds car park) with the other Phantom, the Bentley and 4×4.

 

I was fortunate to be driving the other Phantom, the first time I'd ever driven it, the owner bravely drove the buggy on a lovely wet day, his staffie got to ride in the other Phantom.

[lesapandre]

Lovely story and great car collection. "I have two Phantom V RR's one for me and one for my dog". Amazing...a suspended tow on a Phantom V notwithstanding the rear overhang...also amazing!

[lesapandre]

The S3 Bentley is lovely...the last of the low tech cars but with the V8.

[chrisjvm]

Not amazing but...

 

I was a fledgling mowtah importa...

 

Bought my first VW T25 Westfalia in that there Jermunny...Circa 2001.

 

All was going well until I had to stop for petrol in the land of tall people...On the Mway

 

To cut a long story short,filled up got back in turned the key ... Nothing.

 

Guy in Petrol stayshe very helpful...

(On commission??)

 

Got the Dutch RAC to tow me to a garage (Sunday afternoon) So I freezed my nads off overnight,waiting for this garage to open.

 

At least I had a bed if not bedding.

 

Anyways,come Monday morning this lanky Dutch fukka turns up in blue overalls and clogs and proceeds to charge me €350 to supply and fit an alternator!

 

Since then I still enjoy the land of Dafs (both kinds)but have a pathological hatred for men in clogs!!!

[xtriple]

Bought an XJ6 (S3 ) at Exeter auctions many years ago. Alarm bells were ringing as soon as I made a bid as it had already been through once... but it was lovely (multi spoke alloy wheels, flip white paint, in really good order cosmetically.. ) and I wanted it. As soon as I started it, I feared a low loader was in my immediate future.

 

At this point, I should have left it and put it through the next auction, but I wanted it and so what if it sounded like a mob of Gorillas were playing the bongos inside the bottom of the engine? So, with my mate behind me in my Citroen CX (a late mk2 with the wonderful door mirrors - another stupid buy where the engine was a ruin - that one ended up with a rebuilt engine which was part original and part Renault Fuego 2 litre! went really well after and I only spent a ton) we set off the 30 or so miles back to sunny Paignton where I lived at the time.

 

On the M5 the engine was rattling like a jackhammer and I have never seen an oil pressure gauge in negative numbers, but, strangely it kept on going, all the way up Halden hill (quite steep and long) without losing too much speed and all was looking rosy for a successful journey home under its own power.

 

The 'BANG!' came when I backed off the throttle as it was going a bit fast and literally, the road behind me disappeared in smoke and bits of engine coupled with gallons of oil (all of which ended up on the bonnet of my CX!) but, it kept on running! I got it off the main road (panicking more than slightly as it had just come from Exeter auctions so tax and insurance may, or may not, have been in place!)  and when I got out of the car on a side road, it was still running and sounding pretty good, no banging or odd noises at all and if it hadn't been for the partial con-rod sticking its tongue out of the side of the block in a nice rhythmic way, I would have tried to continue!

 

Sadly once it was turned off, it never turned over again.

 

I had no AA cover and nor did my mate, but his Dad did so he pretended to be his Dad and the car was recovered home in double quick time (about 6 hours for ten miles) and a new engine was purchased the next day from a bloke in Brixham who dealt in old Jaguars exclusively - the engine I bought was dredged out of an old caravan he had (in the living part, not the engine bay!) and cost me another £100. It didn't have fuel injection or electronic ignition but they were all surprisingly straightforward swaps and the new engine was in about two days after purchase... it was one of the sweetest 4.2 engines I have ever known and went like a rocket!

[Isaac Hunt]

I had a Morris Ital 1.7SL Estate. The engine was so smooth and it went really well for an Iatl 1.7. It got ragged everywhere and a mate of mine said "this thing will get to 80k and it will grenade"

 

One evening late ish, with about 82k miles on it, on the way home from work, i was in a hurry. M6 was taken pretty much 'flat' and this continued down the M42. All of a sudden there was a 'miss' and then another 'miss', followed by several 'misses' foot was still hard down, then 'BANG', sparks out the Zorst I could see in the RVM, foot was still held down, we were down on power but kept going, foot still hard down.

 

Off the motorway I made the 'flow of traffic' at about 3 roundabouts before having to stop at the next. Game over, it wouldn't restart. AA man diagnosed cambelt to which I disagreed, it was towed home. Valve head had dropped off a valve stem and smashed its way through a piston crown and wedged there making an almighty mess of the head. A secondhand piston, rod, head and i had it all back together.

 

Never was quite as smooth though and never as perky after i put it all back together. Ran ok, just lost its edge. I tidied up the bodywork and I'm sure it gave its new owner sterling service as that was back in 1988 and the last tax was due May 1994

[Yoss]

Heading up the A30 one sunny afternoon in the Triumph. Just east of Shaftesbury I overtook someone, dropping down to third gear to do so, the Triumph 1300 engine not being known for its torque. That bit was fine, it was when I changed back to fourth that there was a big bang and I lost all drive.

 

Fortunately there was a side road a hundred yards or so further on that I could coast into so I didn't look like too much of an idiot (though the people in the other car may have heard the bang).

 

The input shaft is a well known weak point on 1300 FWD's but I have a 1500 gearbox in my car with the uprated input shaft and I'd never known one of those to break. But that's certainly what it felt like, you could sit there and put the gearlever in any position you liked with the engine running and without using the clutch. Having said this I still carry a spare shaft with me (both 1300 and 1500 types in fact) so I set about whipping the shaft out (I also carry a slide hammer in the boot). The input shaft looked fine so concluding it was something deeper in the transmission I had no option but to call the AA.

 

Once home and started pulling it apart I soon found the problem.

 

 

Annoyingly having already got as far as removing the input shaft by the roadside another ten minutes would have had the clutch out completely. So one of these is now also on the long list of things I carry permanently in the boot.

[Fumbler]

Father once owned a Ovlov V70 D5. Very nice car. So nice we went to France on holiday. While on a Payage there was a bump and we lost power steering. Yahoo! Very glad an Auchan was just where we lost it. French AA came and dragged it to a garage... somewhere in flatland. So for most of the holiday we had a Peugeot saloon because we still had some 100 kilometers to go.

 

Anyway, power steering pulley was replaced with success and we travelled home. A few months later I was in it with Father and then we lost all electricity. We then went to Lincolnshire and lost it again. This time we had to wait a few hours for it to even decide to light up the check engine lamp.

 

So off to garages and independants it went, and nothing could be done. It honestly felt like owning a fecked 928. At least someone in Preston found some use for it. Probably as a shed but as long as it is never near us we'll be fine!

[Saabnut]

After the saga of the Bentley, I should perhaps add my smoothest breakdown. On my way back from the Le Mans Classic in my 1935 Rolls Royce 20-25 Limo. Car had performed perfectly from Aberdeenshire to Le Mans and was on my return journey. Avoiding motorways where practical so was on the A1, on the single carriageway section above Morpeth. Trundling along at a steady 45mph all was good, nice warm sunny day when all of a sudden power dropped accompanied by a very loud popping noise. Fortunately I was about 100 yards from a lay-by so swiftly pulled in to investigate. Sat in the lay-by were an old couple having there lunch complete with picnic chairs, table and table cloth who looked less than impressed with having their luncheon disturbed even if by a pre-war Royce as it was startlingly loud. I swiftly turned it off, turned the Flying Lady to allow me to open the bonnet and the problem was instantly obvious, as number three spark plug had unscrewed itself but was still hanging from the plug lead.

Swiftly screwed the plug back in, tightened it properly and was so confident I shut the bonnet and returned the Flying Lady to the travelling position before getting in and pressing the starter for a smooth and quiet running car. Total time elapsed was about 90 seconds from turning off. I will always remember the old couple watching me drive off with loaded forks frozen half way to their wide open mouths with a look of total disbelief!

[SiC]

Swiftly screwed the plug back in, tightened it properly and was so confident I shut the bonnet and returned the Flying Lady to the travelling position before getting in and pressing the starter for a smooth and quiet running car. Total time elapsed was about 90 seconds from turning off. I will always remember the old couple watching me drive off with loaded forks frozen half way to their wide open mouths with a look of total disbelief!

I hope you did a Gallic Shrug after putting the plug back in!

[catsinthewelder]

A memorable fail was the throttle getting stuck open on the VW camper.  I'd been fiddling with something earlier that day and must have put something back a bit squint.  I'd driven 9 of the ten miles to work when I stopped at traffic lights.  On setting off it soon became clear that the throttle was stuck open so I kept going uphill until I reached the next set of lights. Clutch in, ignition off, I lept out ran round the back and popped open the engine cover.  A quick fiddle and the return spring sprung I ran back around the front and fired it up just in time for the green light.

 

A trickier fail was on leaving work on a different day I attempted to engage 2nd gear and missed.  The van shuddered to a halt,  a tentative raise of the clutch found I was now in reverse.  However much brute force I used on the lever I was still in reverse.  As I was on a narrow lane between 2 stone walls I couldn't leave the van there so I reversed it 300yds back to work.  With the floodlights back on I crawled underneath and spent the next hour swearing at it until I gave up and was collected by Ms C.  The RAC were called that weekend but as usual failed to pass the message 'I'm at home 10 miles away, give me 20mins warning before arriving' on to the patrolman who arrived to locked gates.  Fortunately he was a nice chap who took the opportunity to have a brew while waiting.  He quickly agreed with my diagnosed fucked gearbox and helped me remove the driveshafts rather than making me hold the clutch in for 10 miles.  This was particularly helpful as the driveshafts were held in by a combination of Hex, Torx and spline drive bolts which required both our toolboxs to be used.  Other than that it all went smoothly.