So anyway,
Here in New Mexico the weather has been finest kind for many weeks now. I
agreed to take both of our Morgans to the local British Car Show, so had to
do considerable tuning, re-tuning, tuning again, and, finally, fine tuning to
get the little dears ready to chuggie down the road 20 miles to the show
venue. I worked on the cars for a couple of weeks, more or less, to get them
as ready as possible.
Yellow, the '66 Plus 4, bless its poor abused and neglected heart, was, as
usual, a piece of cake. I had some difficulty convincing her to start from
dead cold (needed priming) and could NOT get brake lights (the switch is OK)
but otherwise she was champing at the bit. (Translation for Easterners:
"...she was anxious to participate.") I really need to get ready to repaint
her, but "wasted" a couple of days rubbing her out and waxing her down. On
the road, the car was, as always, an absolute delight...
More than a month ahead of time I started preparing Guv'nor Green (the F2
Three-Wheeler) by removing the peeling and blistered petrol tank (visible
when the bonnet is open) to repaint it. Once I had it out I determined that
the tank's interior had previously been "sealed" by some poor misguided soul
and that the seal coat was definitely peeling and partially blocking the fuel
line. Soooo.... Down to Joe's Radiator shop for a boil-out. Joe boiled and
boiled and boiled! It took a full week of pretty much non-stop boiling before
we finally adjudged it "clean enough to be trouble free." Joe, incidentally,
charged me $16 for all of this boiling.
Meantime, I took the very distressed gas cap to The Adult Toy Factory (relax
guys--the toys in question are CARS) to have it chromed. They, in turn, sent
it to El Paso and would you believe it took THREE WEEKS to get a gas cap
chromed? And cost nearly $11. (Gotta admit, though, it really looks good!)
Waiting for the gas cap to come back, I stripped and painted the tank. Then
re-stripped and re-painted. And so on and so forth until I finally managed to
get something I could live with. With the tank re-installed and the cap
FINALLY in place I started the little car up only to learn that it would
scarcely get out of it's own way. Sigh....
The spark plugs were black and somewhat moist so I deduced it was the
Infamous Carburetor. As I had previously thought, the carb proved to be
impossible to adjust. This was clearly a major problem, particularly with the
show two days away, so I called my good friend Bud Conn who is pretty good
people even though he is an MG guy ('31 D Model, '65 MGB and an uncompleted
Club Racer based on a T Series). Bud suggested that I borrow his ColorTune so
I got out the Plus 4 and cruised the 20 miles to his house. God, that Plus 4
ran great!
Back at the ranch, the ColorTune's sulfurous yellow flame quickly confirmed
that the F2 was running rich at all engine speeds no matter what adjustments
I made. Why? The Infamous Carburetor, in case you were not aware, does not
have a choking device which restricts air flow to richen the mixture as we
have come to expect. Instead, it has an "enrichening jet" which is activated
by pulling a cable. Along about 10 PM it finally occurred to me to push in on
the jet cable and guess what! As long as I pushed in on the cable the mixture
leaned out to a loverly cobalt blue! So that problem was finally solved.
Imagine my dismay the next morning when I learned that the car would still
only barely pull its own weight in third gear. And the rallye was scheduled
for that day with the static show the following day.
"Not to panic," I thought, "try re-gapping the plugs." Of course, I couldn't
find a feeler gauge of any sort, so off to town--20 miles away--to buy one.
While we were in town we went down to see the start of the rallye. We waved
stoically as the cars roared, rattled, groaned, or hissed away from the
starting line.
Back at Casa Cobbo, down in the Guv'nor's quarters, I re-gapped the plugs
and he RAN! HE RAN! HE REALLY, REALLY RAN! With my wife tagging behind in the
Minivan, I roared up and down the neighborhood streets, this way, that way,
the other way... No matter what I did, HE RAN! The remainder of the day was
spent waxing and cleaning and rubbing and just generally feeling good.
The next day dawned clear and cool. I pulled on my leather coat, tugged on
my leather helmet, and wedged myself behind the steering wheel. Turned the
key, tugged the starter knob and CONTACT! Just feeling good, I guess, I let
the Guv'nor get just the slightest bit zoomy as I roared up the driveway,
Glory Kidd, the yearling filly racing beside me and Janet, my bride of 32
years, following behind in Yellow.
All the way to town we cruised along with the Guv'nor at half throttle,
about 45 miles per hour, and Yellow just loafing along behind.
The car show was a big success... 62 cars (mostly Jags and MG's) entered
which is big time for around here. Both spectators and participants were
fascinated by the two Morgans, particularly the Trike which took 2nd in its
class (beaten by a TD! I know, I know... "Forgive them Prebendary, they know
not what they do.")
It would suit me right down to the ground if I NEVER again have to explain
WHY Gov'nor Green only has three wheels... how it is that, yes, Morgans have
wooden frames but, no, they do NOT have wooden chassis... why the steering
wheels are on the right... why the yellow Morgan has a Triumph engine and the
green Morgan has a Ford engine but they are STILL stock Morgans.
The ride home after the show was uneventful, if a Morgan outing can ever be
truly called "uneventful." Never cooked out so much as a drop of water even
though the temperature climbed well into the 90's. Did mark my trail with a
string of oil spots, but hey! 'Samog'n, doncha know?
--Colin Cobb, Las Cruces, NM
'66 Plus 4 Four Seater Roadster, RHD & '36 F2 Three-Wheeled Roadster
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