Well it certainly was an adventurous weekend and many exciting miles
(about 500) have been added to the milometer (odometer). Pennsylvania
really was looking beautiful that Saturday morning - almost as
beautiful as the day before (this was the second trip), so I decided
to give my weary backside a rest and let Scotty have a chance to
delicately push the accelerator for the final 30 miles or so - well I
had to give him some relief from the mental punishment he was
inflicting on himself for forgetting the all-essential switch to
eternal touring bliss (overdrive).
So there we are touring along happily (well as happy as one can be when
someone else is driving your LBC) when the devil of the open road
inflicts us with amber lumination. We can't make the light, so Scotty
applies the brakes smoothly and firmly - well maybe just a little too
firmly - at least for my TR6! We hear a bang and a little clonking
from the right side of the car, but still stop ok. Scotty and I look
at each other - both completely baffled.
Scotty: "What the hell was that?"
Me: "I don't know."
The light turns green and we pull away - with only a slight rhythmic
rubbing sound. Scott is convinced it is the right front brake. Having
replaced my calipers only 2 weeks back, my thoughts turn to the quality
of my mechanical work. Surely the caliper bolts aren't loose!
Scotty: "Do you think we should stop?"
Me: "Yea, I think we should stop!"
We find a suitable place to pull off the road with my attention now
turned to the rear right wheel from where the rubbing is most
definitely coming. I roll the car forward and turn off the engine as
Scotty listens for sounds of inspiration. Nothing at all.
So we happily jump in and take off, but drive with great care into
Carlisle. The final miles of the journey through the town tell us
that something is definitely not right with the right rear brake,
since the scraping sound is clearly identifiable.
<Ok, this is the part of the story where you clever little
troubleshooters should make your predictions as to my problem -
remember - initial bang, some clonking and then some
scrapping/chaffing that's not really serious, but identifiable to be
coming from the rear right wheel, especially when braking.>
Scotty: "It must be a broken shoe."
Me: "Yep, that's the only possibility I can think of too."
We remember from the day before that there had been TR6 shoes at one
of the Carlisle spots for $10, so having got Scotty's essential
"switch of ecstacy", we proceed over to the stand to make sure the
shoes wouldn't be sold before us. Too late! - they'd already gone. We
met up with George Haynes (hi George!) and ask around for some more
TR6 shoes - finding another set for $14. This is good enough for me,
so I return to the car to fit them on, or at least pull out the
remains of the broken one. I turn the car around and jack it up on the
grass - easily solid enough after a good week's weather. I remove the
wheel and pull off the brake drum. Notice, I don't mention taking the
screws out that hold the drum on, since this is a two-part brake drum
- yep, there's the flat disk which is, of course, separate from the
ring. "Hey, hang on - that ain't right!!! - wow, that's cool!"
I pull off the "disk" part of the drum and tidy up before heading back
to show my masterpiece to Scotty and the others. I approach Scotty
subtly only showing the brake drum on edge.
Scotty: "Have you fixed it?"
I then hold up the brake drum/ring to smile sweetly though.
Scotty: "Oh, my God!"
Anyway, Scotty and I spend the next hour parading round the stands
showing people our problem. There were plenty of amazed faces and lots
of people willing to help, but we struggled to find a replacement
drum. One guy even said he'd go back to his garage and get a
replacement free if I let him keep the two-part example! Finally we
found two brake drums that were in good shape and made the seller feel
sufficiently sorry for us to part with them both for $10. This was
fine, apart from the fact the Scotty and I couldn't put together $10
between us - where did all that money go?? So, I had to return the
brake shoes to afford the new drums. 20 minutes later we were all
ready to go, confident that we had met the challenge of the day and
nothing else could possibly go wrong. I even let Scotty drive out of
the gate!
For those that are still wondering how a brake drum could possibly be
divided into 2 pieces, I suggest you think along the lines of some
really good quality resurfacing. On my particular example the
"resurfacing engineer" (I'm sure they're called this these days) had
run the lathe so far into the drum that only about 0.25mm was holding
the "ring" to the "disc". It's a good job my other brakes worked well,
and I've got revived faith in my mechanical work again!
Anyway, Carlisle was great! - on the Friday I managed to get a tonneau
cover, a new top crashpad, a complete pedal box for my midget and a
fantastically red face! I'm all spent!
And here endeth this joyous tale of merriment. Now back to
transmissions!
See ya,
Paul.
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