At 6:40 a.m. local time, on the way to work today, the stalwart ZB, Anna
Magdanetta, turned up 100,000 miles, or, more likely, 200,000, although the
spotty chronicles of Anna Magdanetta's Notebook fall silent for long
stretches so that this venerable sheetmetal lady's true rolling age is
cloaked in the dust and road grime of four decades of unknown motoring
memories stretching from the hallowed brick walls of Abingdon-on-Thames to
the cactus-studded deserts of Chihuahua and the Caballo Mountains of the
North American Southwest to the interminable tallgrass prairies of Kansas,
and, for now, to the sacred green-clad hills and free-flowing streams of our
beloved Missouri Ozarks.
It's really difficult for me to gauge the age of a well-tended MG. Our
MGB-GT is flirting with 300K on the odometer, but it doesn't seem to show
it. Our MGA registers 104K, but could pass for more or less. Barney
Gaylord's MGA is probably knocking on 300K's door, but who would know it?
Our unspeakable Mini-van has clocked 160K and the worn valve guides and
squalling power steering pump bespeak every mile and more. Anna's
steel-ribbed throttle pedal is somewhat worn suggesting that her true age
may be closer to the 200K than 100K. Conversely, the brass sustain pedal of
the Gulbransen spinet in the parlour (which has known a few airs from Mr.
Bach's well-known notebook) has a one-inch hole worn clean through it.
I wonder what parts and conditions an automotive Sherlock would consider in
determining the true age of some of our wonderful old LBCs?
Measuring the Interior Highlands a mile at a time, I wish you all long-lived
odometers.
David F. Darby
http://www.mgb.bc.ca/mgz/
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