Gary,
*chuckling*
While my MG experience is neophyte (at best), I have used this technique
successfully on other vehicles. The first thing you must do is find the
previous owner or mechanic that put that filter on and hit him, straight
in the face (omit this step if you did this yourself.) Next, check your
form: did you drive the screwdriver _all the way through the filter?_ You
should have. (being careful not to do this too close to the base of the
filter as you can damage the threading on the...the...the (technically
speaking: the little dohicky that the filter screws onto.) ...if, in
fact, you do damage this part, repeat step one several times.) Perhaps
someone could post on the list just how far that dohicky extends into
the filter? It's usually only an inch or so on the vehicles I've worked
on, but I have no idea on MGs.
Now you're set. You now have _two_ firm handholds (the handle of the
screwdriver and the end of the screwdriver that is extending from the
other side of the filter.) Try it now.
If you've already done this...hell, I dunno. :)
neil doane
On Mon, 17 Nov 1997, Gary A. Graham wrote:
> "Okay!" I said optimistically, "it's been a couple days, the arm
> muscles are still sore, but, I think I'm ready for another go at the
> stuck oil filter."
>
> I put the filter wrench thingie back on and gave a tentative tug or
> two, clenched my teeth and gave a mighty heave!
>
> Nothing.
>
> Ok, now you're making me very angry! I had, in reserve, brought the
> largest screwdriver I own. In fact, two of them!
>
> The List said, "Drive a stake through its miserable oily heart and
> you will not fail!" The filter sat there placidly, even arrogantly,
> whilst I made preparations.
>
> First, an eight-sided figure circumscribed around the vehicle. "No
> extra demonic help for you now!" I cried. No reaction. I lit eight
> trouble lights and hung them around the engine bay. "Suffer! And
> prepare to depart this existence!" I threatened. Still, no reaction
> from the accursed filter.
>
> Carefully I placed the Tool of Doom against the cold, unfeeling,
> exterior, and, with a Thor-like blow, pierced the evil canister
> through and through! "Arghh! Take that and die!" Nary a whimper from
> the Filter from Hell. Bracing myself firmly against the wing, both
> hands on the Stake, I pushed with all the force of Light!
> "YESSSS!!! It's moving!" I shouted triumphantly.
>
> But wait, what's this? An evil chuckle amongst the final gurgles was
> heard . . . . the canister's epidermal layer tore but STILL DID NOT
> TURN!!! "NNOOOOOO!!!" I ripped the innards from the now ruptured
> filter. In an instant, all of the lights went out!
>
> When sanity returned, and one lonely flashlight surveyed the
> resultant mayhem, the outside shell of the filter still remains
> firmly adhered to the engine. I gently lowered the bonnet, and,
> wiping my tools, quietly slipped away into the night.
>
> HELP!
>
> Gary
> 74 MGB (with the Filter from Hell)
>
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