I have one of these stories too! I was returning from Daytona Beach during
spring break, late 70's again accompanied by Barbara when the car died in
Virginia. Although the car made the NY to FLA trip without problem, the
muffler fell off on the second stage of the trip to meet Barb in Ft.
Lauderdale. I had a trunk full of spare parts from my recently deceased
TR250, so it figured that it would be the muffler. Coat hangers just didn't
cut it so I paid the Midas man to fix it right. Anyhow, I left the guy that
I drove down with in Daytona (he had a ride home) and Barbara decided to
drive home with me and waste her plane ticket. The car had died because the
fuel pump had come apart where the plunger is attached and spring loaded. I
quickly found out that I didn't pack a spare. With dark quickly approaching
I was saved by the VHP in the form a TR6 owning trooper with a bright
flashlight. Somehow we found the missing spring, it was lodged on the frame
rail, and reassembled the fuel pump.
Bob Kramer
rkramer3@austin.rr.com
----- Original Message -----
From: "John Herrera" <jrherrera90@hotmail.com>
To: <fot@autox.team.net>
Sent: Saturday, March 13, 2004 1:39 PM
Subject: Waiting for the Ignition to Dry
> Amici:
>
> I can't contribute anything to the thread on speeding tickets; I always
pay
> the fine because I'm always guilty. However, the Mazda RX-7 story reminded
> me of this short article I wrote for Moss Motoring and a couple of TR Club
> newsletters:
>
> I was on a solo nine day round-trip tour of the Skyline Drive and Blue
Ridge
> Parkway in my TR-3. These roads are actually part of the National Park
> system. They wind along the scenic Blue Ridge mountain range for 575 miles
> through Virginia and North Carolina. There are no towns, stop signs, red
> lights, or trucks; wilderness, challenging curves, and scenic beauty
abound.
> The trip is perfect for a sports car.
>
> Somewhere on the Parkway, as I drove merrily up a long hill with a
graceful
> curve miles from nowhere, a torrential downpour killed the engine. I
didn't
> want to stay in the road because the visibility was so bad, but there was
no
> place close by to pull off. The only thing for it was to coast backwards
> down the hill (it seemed like a mile) until I could get off the road. Soon
> the rain stopped. I knew that if I waited long enough, the heat from the
> engine would evaporate the water from wherever it had done its dirty work
> and I could go on my way. (Note to self: order all new ignition parts upon
> return.) So I took a photograph and patiently waited.
>
> Yes, my car was immobile in a wilderness miles from a telephone or
> civilization for that matter, but I was not annoyed. There are worse
things
> that can happen to a person. Here I was, in a neat car, on a great tour in
> beautiful scenery. I had no schedule to meet, so why get upset about an
> unplanned stop?
>
> After a while, a park ranger stopped his Blazer and beckoned to me to come
> over. Now here might be a reason for concern. Maybe I had broken some rule
> about pulling off the Parkway in an undesignated spot or something. I
walked
> up to the window and he spoke.
>
> "Well," he said slowly, "I've got a Midget." When he spoke these five
> words, I knew that he understood my plight, that I would not get in
trouble,
> and for that moment we shared that feeling that is hard to explain but one
> that is known to owners of old British sports cars who have found
themselves
> broken down by the side of the road. There may be some mild irritation at
> being inconvenienced, yet the edge is softened by a feeling of adventure.
> When driving an old British sports car, breaking down is, after all, to be
> tolerated, if not expected. Besides, these adventures are great material
for
> car club meeting story swapping, newsletter articles, etc. There is a bond
> among fellow owners that comes from mutual shared experience.
>
> After an offer of help, none required, the park ranger left me on my own
> once again. The ignition dried out and I was soon on my way.
>
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