Goodbye faithful friend...

The sickening crunch of metal meeting metal filled my heart with dread.

I watched in slow motion horror as the bodywork concertinaed up towards me. There was a mule kick from the steering wheel and pedals. The seat belt tore into my chest. I awaited my coffin to fold up and crush my legs...
The moment never came. My friend took the blow. Little Micra had saved my life...
Shiny panels slowed the impact, crumpling as designed.
Things didn't look good.
From the front you could pretend that the damage was superficial...
...but it was soon clear that a large and important section of car was now...gone!
I felt like crap. Everything ached. It aggravated all my old injuries including my 'bionic' leg from my motorbike accident. Luckily, whiplash and a hurt shoulder complete with 'seat belt' stripe were my only major concerns.

The guy that hit me had run a red light. I'd survived, but little Micra had not been so lucky.
We shared fond memories, Micra and I. Exploring the world together, we loved nothing better than a razz through the lanes...

The not so perambulations of Micra....

Little Micra wasn't happy. It was during travelling back from Burton, struggling through all the deep flood water that he'd started to feel unwell. At first his gears simply felt a bit 'clunky', but then his clutch started being troublesome too. Before long it was just too painful to change gear at all. Whining along stuck in first gear progress was very slow. Unable to de-clutch at all he had to switch his engine off in order to stop and at junctions when it was time to move he had to start up in gear and hope for the best...
After a long and arduous journey it was good to be home. Very worried as to whether he would ever get better it was time to be put up on the jacks. Micra didn't like the jacks, they dug into his bodywork and his master would often be grumpy and swear a lot.
Firstly the wheels had to come off.
Then the brakes, suspension and driveshafts.....Master was very angry and said some very bad words. He even started muttering about "burning the dam thing", and "wish I still had my Rover". He disappeared, and soon it became dark...
Next morning the master was a bit more cheerful. Off came the starter motor, battery, electrics, computer and air ducts. Eventually when you looked up from underneath, where there was once a lot of stuff, now there was daylight.
The troublesome gearbox lay on the lawn while master scratched his head.
Micra was happy when the master smiled and pointed to the clutch release bearing and explained. "The lubrication has been washed off the bearing guide by the flood water and caused it to jam, and the side tag has snapped off the housing". Micra didn't know what that all meant but at least he knew he was going to be better soon.
As well as a new bearing Micra was treated to a brand new drive plate....
....and a thrust plate. He felt very special to have all these shiny new things.
A day later and everything was back to normal. The box of matches was put away for another time and master was happy once more. If master was happy, then Micra was too...

Micra car meets Macro hole!......

As you may have heard, England is suffering from extensive flooding at the moment. So you may ask, why did I take a route to the village of Hints by a way that I know full well has a ford?....Cos it's FUN! This is the same tranquil pool at the former mill site as pictured previously in "Just a walk in the woods". A little more turbulent than usual!

For most of the year this ford is dry. It used to be the old course of the stream (Blackbrook), but the main flow of water was diverted under the lane further ahead via a brick lined tunnel. It is only when the tunnel is overwhelmed that this becomes flooded. Once this was just a dirt track, but now it is tarmacked and you can normally predict the depth as the gradient is gradual.

A small Hawthorn tree had blown down in the storms, but there was room to get around it and the waters seemed calm enough. Tentatively I moved forward, window down and peering at the water level at my wheels, all appeared fine. The water was lapping about halfway up the wheels, no problem I thought. WOAhh!!..The front end of the car dropped like a stone...water and debris surged over the bonnet....the horn blared spontaneously. I raced the engine praying it wouldn't stall. Whipped it into reverse, and with a roar, a whine of gears and a gush of muddy water the car thankfully lurched violently backwards and out.

The edge of the road must have washed away. I was so relieved to have got away with it. How the engine had managed to cope and keep running was beyond belief!

I reversed up the lane and pulled in. This is when I saw the additions to my bonnet and feared the worse.....

There was all sorts of twig and leaves hooked up on the bonnet edge and spotlights.

I half expected the bumper or lights to be damaged. Apart from an alarming grating noise, which was soon rectified by scraping handfuls of mud from the brakes, it seem I had got off lightly!

The 4x4 that had been playing in the shallows at the far end of the ford, on seeing the results of proceeding any further, made a hasty retreat!

Little Micra was taken home. He was fully checked out. Thoroughly cleaned with a pressure washer and his delicate parts re-lubed. Micra was very happy that he hadn't drowned, and was ready for more adventures....

The Perambulations of Micra....

Little Micra wasn't well... He'd developed a limp, and in recent months it had got a lot worse! All the grumbling and the knocking noises had been ignored, and now all he could manage was to drive in a straight line. Right hand turns had been painful for quite a while, and trips to the shops had become quite convoluted only being able to turn left! Master would have to take a look at it....

Uh Oh! Major surgery needed! "What? No, I didn't say anything bad, It's just a 'flesh' wound". Micra was getting panicky, he would have to have his battery disconnected if he didn't calm down.

This is what he needed. A new constant velocity joint. I hate fitting these and this is why I'd put it off so long.

A replacement suspension arm was also needed, the former one had been 'mysteriously' damaged by a big hammer wielded by a frustrated unnamed party. Micra said this stung as well now!

After several hours of banging, swearing and throwing of heavy tools, thing were starting to look a little improved. Now lets see if I can find something stronger to replace that string!

Right, everything back in place, bolted, torqued, lubed and pinned. Micra felt much better. Master was right, it hadn't been anything to worry about, and little Micra was embarrassed at having made such a fuss.

So, what are these leftover bits for?......

An average Weekend....

Minding my own business cleaning my car to the rear of the house; I hear a police siren, then another. All is quiet (well as quiet as it gets on this main road) for about 5 mins then I hear all this screaming and shouting as twenty odd kids come swarming down the road. Just a "chavs" day out I thought, until another police siren came into earshot. A startled hermit crab would withdraw into it's shell, chavs also hide in their shell(suits). Hoods up or caps pulled down they scattered, running breathless (from smoking from the age of five) in every direction. A group of "yobblings" bolted up my drive, and, as I debated whether to get "Mr. Sick" they turned about and made another desperate dash for cover. The Police managed to intercept some of the larger chavs, but the smaller unarrestable ones were left and not pursued because it may have demoralised them and stunted their social developement!!!!

"Mr. Stick" is 3 feet, 6 inches and made of good well seasoned pine. "Mr. Stick" helps me explain things to people not "willing" to learn.
Saturday night and I've settled down for the evening. The phone rings, and it is my sister. "I've crashed the car" she explains. "But I'm alright" she continues, "can you come and help?". Well I think what I might need to take. My head torch (because it's on a pitch black road), a few tools (the wing might need pulling away from the wheel), a tow rope (I bet she skidded into a ditch). As I pulled out of a lane onto the dark road I drove slowly so I could easily spot her. No nothing, but, as I reached the brow of the hill I could see a haze of multi coloured lights!...Two fire engines, an ambulance, four police cars and a good scattering of flourescent jacketed people waving torches to direct traffic!

The car was a mess. Forlornly lying on its roof like a turned tortoise, its little wheels helpless in the air. The once shiny panels now spattered with freshly ploughed up turf.

The road was wet and greasy, an oncoming car had failed to dip its lights. Blinded she had pulled away from the kerb on the left, but too sharply, and getting the car into a pendulumn slide eventually lost control.

The back wheels hit the kerb first, shortly followed by the front. With car sliding sideways, the back end dragging in the hedge the wheels began to dig into the soft verge, and over it went!

It slid further on its roof, wiping out the overgrown gorse at the side of the road. A gentle slope guided it back to road where it came to rest at the kerb.

After a brief struggle with the seatbelt, she managed to get out.

(sister with dad)
After a sniff of oxygen and an application of a warm coat she was free to go home!

Freindly Mr Policeman checks to see if the tax disc is up to date!

60 mph slide and then a roll, and to walk away without a scratch, tough little cars those Micras!!