Jim Bauder wrote:
Not sure if it was an old wives tale or not, but the rationale at the time
was that the softer sides of the tubeless tire could roll over and deflect
enough for the edge of the wheel rim to strike the pavement, with possibly a
corresponding catastrophic loss of air pressure. Never saw one do it but, I
have seen wheel and tire combinations come really close to the pavement in
extremely hard cornering!
Indeed it can! Herewith an extract from "As the Shadows Lengthened" - the
sequel to "Life at Triumph"
"Eventually it was done, the loose tarmac was swept away (possibly into a
culvert) - and the men were obviously well-pleased with their efforts.
They were also very tired - and clearly this was cause to take a well-earned
rest.
A large urn of tea materialised out of nowhere, together with several large
and very heavy enamel mugs, to be immediately brimmed with the scalding
fluid and handed round.
The exhausted men carefully slurped at the contents of their mugs and no
doubt congratulated themselves on a job well done.
Suddenly, a very new Herald - maybe one of the first, appeared at speed down
the link road from the westerly location of the Sales Department.
Of the four occupants, one was the 'Dignitary.'
According to later eye-witness reports, it transpired the Herald's driver
had been instructed to demonstrate the car's remarkable turning circle and
obeying his instructions to the letter, selected the newly rolled tarmac as
an excellent location to impress his passengers with "the turning circle
that was smaller than a London taxi."
Hurling the car to full lock and clanging noisily into bottom gear, the
Herald strutted its stuff.
There were shouts of consternation from the Superintendent of Operations,
convincingly supported by his band of loyal spreaders.
The Herald driver for his part, allegedly later claimed he thought they were
encouraging him to really demonstrate the car's remarkable turning radius
and responded with enthusiasm by treading hard on the accelerator.
Because of the excessive tyre scrub on full lock, allied to the still sticky
nature of the newly rolled tarmac, the bead of the leading front tyre broke
away from the wheel rim with a rapid and inevitable loss of air!
The outcome was reasonably predictable.
Detecting some additional resistance to further forward progress, the driver
applied more power through his right foot and hung tightly to the steering
wheel. The Herald continued in a laboured fashion as its principal road
wheel rim dug further into the tarmac with a ferocity that had to be seen to
be believed.
It is said the first tea mug missed the car - just! It was last seen heading
at high speed towards the railway line, with its unconsumed contents
spilling in its wake.
The second mug went through the Herald's windscreen and the third, with
geometric precision, unerring accuracy and no small degree of velocity,
passed through the middle of its rear window.
Coincidentally, it was very aurally evident from The Worshipful Company of
Tarmac Spreaders, backed up by the Superintendent of Operations in the role
of Counter-Tenor, that the ancestry of the Herald's driver (and possibly its
occupants too?) were being traced down quite a large number of now moribund
generations!
The car departed almost as hastily as it had arrived. There was a pronounced
stoop to one side at the front, the remains of the tyre flapped against the
wheelarch and the now naked road wheel left a tell-tale mark in the older
and harder road surface as it went. What was left of the tyre finally
detached itself from the rim somewhere outside Gearbox Heat Treatment.
Twenty minutes later and surrounded by a number of red-faced cohorts, the
'Dignitary' entered 'The Rocket Range' via a back door, having been
transported thereto in a hastily washed Vanguard.
Several spectators and others in the Reception Committee (of which Dad was
one) noticed the trousers of an immaculate light grey suit were
embarrassingly stained in an unmentionable area with what looked like rather
milky tea."
Jonmac
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