Greetings ALL!
I returned from my rendezvous with the Brit Run to the Sun last night and
typed up the groups message and then posted it to several lists and friends
of the trekkers. It appears that something went wrong last night so I
posted it again this morning. THIS time it seems to have gone out fine. If
you received two copies of that rather long message, my apologies.
I left home around noon on Friday and just before I hit the freeway I
stopped to give her a quick ckeck over. I noticed what looked like foam
where the valve cover gasket is still leaking. I suspected the worst; water
in the oil, possible blown head gasket. Long story short - it wasn't.
Everything checked out OK, buttoned her back up and hit the freeway. TC's,
at least MY TC, are not terribly comfortable in freeway traffic at freeway
speeds but I had to tough it out for an hour till I got to the mouth of the
Fraser Canyon. At this point the speeds are more TC friendly, around 90
kMh, and the road is very sports car friendly. I enjoyed a beautiful drive
up the Canyon, along the banks of the mighty Fraser, through snow capped
peaks, under a sunny sky. It was bliss.
Around 16:30 I found the rendezvous campsite and Dammit Dick waiting
patiently. We renewed our aquaintance and had a pleasant evening at camp.
Saturday morning we decided to go into town for breakfast. I finaggled Dick
into driving so I could get up close and personal with his V8 GT. We pulled
onto the high way and Dick, like any proud owner would, stood on it. There
was a stong pull right from zero but once the revs built up a little it was
awsome! I simply must have one of these before I die! Dick's car is Mineral
Blue and, to my eye, a very faithful copy of the factory cars.
Saturday morning, over breakfast, we hooked up with John & Gladys McNaughton
in a sound but well used `66 Morgan. John regalled us with knee slapping
and sometimes hair raising stories of their trip `round the world in this
very car. I suggested to John that after that trip, this run from LA to the
Arctic Ocean will seem like a walk in the park. John was not convinced...
Through shear serendipity, this weekend was Cache Creek's "Graffitti Days".
There were vintage Street rods from all over the province and some from
Washington and even a few from California. The events included a hot-rod
field meet and Vintage Drag races at the NASCAR track 10 miles down the
highway. Dick and I took in some drag racing, my first time. Not my cup of
tea but impressive as hell none the less.
Saturday afternoon Barney, Carol and Bob pulled in and Barney immediately
popped the hood and started repairs. His water pump had broken because a
bolt holding his generator had come loose and left it hanging off the water
pump bracket (or somehing like that....). The damage to Barney's car from
his tangle with a semi and a guard rail was heartbraking. If it had been me
on my first day out, I'd have tucked my tail between my legs and turned
around for home. Carol assures me that is not in Barney's nature. He
patched it up as best he could, reassembled the trailer ( which had been
bashed to pieces, literally) and carried on. We all had a nice dinner
together then did the obligatory campfire thing, telling stories and
discussing list threads ( cats, dim bulbs, canoe trailers) till WAY past
bedtime. My friends from the south were a little surprised to find that it
was still light out at 22:00 and a chat about expected evening temperatures
with a fellow from the north of the province gave them all pause. It DOES
get cold up there......
Sunday morning we broke camp early, well relatively early anyway, and headed
North for breakfast in 100 Mile House. Being the slowest car in the group I
naturally took the lead. Others stopped for gas along the way and
miraculously caught up with my pace. It's about 70 miles to 100 Mile house
from our campsite and, in an attempt to not slow their progress, I pushed
the TC harder than I normally do. I thought I was flying, windsheild folded
flat and throttle wide open, couldn't hear a damn thing but wind roar. Up
and down some mountain grades watching the landscape change from arrid sage
covered hills to northern pine mountain forest. I was having a scream, the
others we're, I suspect staying behind me through politeness and realising
it was only for a little while. Barney and Carol decided to get a picture
of the group so they pulled out and literally FLEW past me to find a good spot.
Burst my bubble utterly.....
Comming down the hill into 100 Mile House I slowed to the city limit speed
of 50 kMh and immediately heard a very disturbing, intermitant banging noise
from under the bonnet. My heart sank thinking I'd broken something 300+
miles from home. Turned out the fan had simply come a bit loose from the
water pump and was knicking the thermostat housing. No damage and a quick
fix. Also fixed up a couple other loose fittings and joined the group in
the restraunt. Outside, after breakfast we said our goodbyes, wished one
another luck and parted company.
I decided to take an alternate route home and drove the Duffy Lake Road. I
last did this about 17 years ago when this highway was mostly gravel and
4x4's only were allowed if the weather was questionable. We did it then in
our `76 B and found it it bit hairy in places. Since then the higway has
been paved throughout and is now an absolutely AMAZING sports car drive. It
winds for over 100 kM through alpine meadows and mountain passes with hardly
a sign of habitation save the odd ranch house here and there. I drove
through a ploughed path through a snow avalanche that must have been ten to
fifteen feet high on both sides of the road. Hardly another vehicle in
sight, I could set my own pace. I got more and more agressive in the
corners and was grinning from ear to ear when, pointing the nose into a
downhill hard left curve with a mountain on the right and a cliff on the
left, the rear end decided it would rather be in front. I managed to get
her undercontrol and, once my pulse dropped enough for me to move, I found
I'd flattened the right rear tire. I limped along to a wide spot in the
road and took the time to have a drink of juice and a smoke then changed out
the flat. All the while not a sound but the wind in the trees and the
singing of birds. Not a sign of humanity anywhere just mountain, sun, snow,
pines, wild flowers and birds. And a happily burbbling TC pearched on twisty
two lane blacktop. Heavan.
The rest of the trip, down through Whistler and the Sea to Sky highway ( a
great drive in itself!) was un eventful and rather anticlimactic as the
traffic built and the speed slowed as we neared the city.
I envy the trekkers, they've got weeks of this ahead. Alas I'm now home and
my adventure's over for now. You should have been there!
(sorry for the length but MAN, AM I PUMPED!)
Cheers,
___ \______ Ross MacPherson
/ __ \ __ / /------|) arm@unix.infoserve.net
/ (___)---------/ (___) Vancouver, BC, Canada
1947 MG-TC 3528 1966 MGB-GT
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