Hi all,
eventful weekend {or at least half of it} - big gathering at my place since we'd recently had five birthdays closely spaced, as yet uncelebrated. So a picnic was the objective, all provisions bought, Saturday morning we were ready for departure. I'd not used the 505 wagon in ages so decided to dust off the cobwebs and use that. Brother-in-Law used his much more modern XC60 Volvo so seven of us convoyed in the two cars out West. I was carrying the all important Barbecue, large Esky, 20L of water, bags of charcoal, provisions etc. Two hours later we stopped for a reviving coffee near Bathurst, suitably refreshed we were about to saddle up again when B-i-L uttered the words "do you think that's a lot of water for the aircon to chuck out?" We all studied the liquid trail making its way forward from under the Volvo, popped the lid to be greeted by a dribbling top hose and diminished header tank.
NRMA duly called and an hours wait advised we decided to attempt a 'bush' fix - self attempted to wrap short bits of gaffer tape tightly round the hose to be rewarded with singed fingers worse than the Barbie could impart
NRMA guy arrived while we were thus entertained and gave us a long monologue - a soliloquy even - the gist of which was firstly that I was urinating contra-opposing air currents with my tape {I knew that but it passed the time}, secondly that we wouldn't get anyone locally to even consider tackling such a nasty foreign object and it'd have to be towed back to Sydney - or possibly Orange where there's a main dealer. News digested we enquired which of the local spannersmiths might be the least unlikely to tackle a 'forriner' and name obtained we refilled the headertank and set off gingerly intending to dump at said location - the 505 now acting as "spotter" tailing the Volvo alert for any leak increase. Joy - the gate was open when we got there - garagistes were busy fettling golfing equipment 'til we rudely interrupted them, bad news that they were booked out two weeks hence. Youngest Sister then came to the rescue with alternative mechanicien recommended by one of her friends resident in the town and third time lucky we left the Volvo to await its piece of rubber hose with unique clippy-bits at each end. This last was my sort of place - a classic Porsche 911 {70's era at a guess} sat outside the door and around the corner were an E30 BMW and an old 'humpy' Holden on a stand.
One vehicle now in the sickbay we set about removing everything out the 505, putting up the third row of seats, and re-cramming the cargo into 50% less space than it formerly occupied. The 'Magnificent Seven' were now all on one horse! Horse coped OK though there were some never-before-heard reverberations on the bigger bumps - I'm guessing we were testing the pliability of the rear bumpstops. Picnic site was very remote and at the end of a 4kM dirt-trail so none of the usual 'launch it at the bumps at 60kph and let the supple French springs sort it out,' no, picking our way ever so slow avoiding largest ridges & craters we made it. Enjoyable {if truncated} afternoon over it would have been nice to think it was all downhill on the way back - but it isn't. Victoria pass between Hartley & Mt. Vic is the steepest obstacle en-route and any thoughts that I might get a momentum building run up at it were dashed with the abrupt eruption of red and blue lights behind on the approach. Pulled over to the side my first thoughts were "Oh they want check I've filled out my Historic Rego logbook" {I had, that morning}. Just to keep its mystique of French enigmacity the 505 chose the moment the officer of the Lerrrrrr approached for the window to twitch down 10mm then seize - Merde! Well all she wanted after studying my Licennnnse was to carry out an RBT, then inform be I was committing a felony by not having an operational window. Duly promised to fix it very first thing the next time daylight hit I was allowed to go on my way - as all this was going on I heard the 'offsider' officer remark "very full car." I was crestfallen that my carefully completed log was of zero interest to the thin blue line - almost feel I've "wasted" a day now Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr But the best bit was that I could spend the next week telling my B-i-L that he really, reaaally needs to buy himself a classic Pug Wagon
some pics of the event - probably of no interest other than to me;
eventful weekend {or at least half of it} - big gathering at my place since we'd recently had five birthdays closely spaced, as yet uncelebrated. So a picnic was the objective, all provisions bought, Saturday morning we were ready for departure. I'd not used the 505 wagon in ages so decided to dust off the cobwebs and use that. Brother-in-Law used his much more modern XC60 Volvo so seven of us convoyed in the two cars out West. I was carrying the all important Barbecue, large Esky, 20L of water, bags of charcoal, provisions etc. Two hours later we stopped for a reviving coffee near Bathurst, suitably refreshed we were about to saddle up again when B-i-L uttered the words "do you think that's a lot of water for the aircon to chuck out?" We all studied the liquid trail making its way forward from under the Volvo, popped the lid to be greeted by a dribbling top hose and diminished header tank.
NRMA duly called and an hours wait advised we decided to attempt a 'bush' fix - self attempted to wrap short bits of gaffer tape tightly round the hose to be rewarded with singed fingers worse than the Barbie could impart
NRMA guy arrived while we were thus entertained and gave us a long monologue - a soliloquy even - the gist of which was firstly that I was urinating contra-opposing air currents with my tape {I knew that but it passed the time}, secondly that we wouldn't get anyone locally to even consider tackling such a nasty foreign object and it'd have to be towed back to Sydney - or possibly Orange where there's a main dealer. News digested we enquired which of the local spannersmiths might be the least unlikely to tackle a 'forriner' and name obtained we refilled the headertank and set off gingerly intending to dump at said location - the 505 now acting as "spotter" tailing the Volvo alert for any leak increase. Joy - the gate was open when we got there - garagistes were busy fettling golfing equipment 'til we rudely interrupted them, bad news that they were booked out two weeks hence. Youngest Sister then came to the rescue with alternative mechanicien recommended by one of her friends resident in the town and third time lucky we left the Volvo to await its piece of rubber hose with unique clippy-bits at each end. This last was my sort of place - a classic Porsche 911 {70's era at a guess} sat outside the door and around the corner were an E30 BMW and an old 'humpy' Holden on a stand.One vehicle now in the sickbay we set about removing everything out the 505, putting up the third row of seats, and re-cramming the cargo into 50% less space than it formerly occupied. The 'Magnificent Seven' were now all on one horse! Horse coped OK though there were some never-before-heard reverberations on the bigger bumps - I'm guessing we were testing the pliability of the rear bumpstops. Picnic site was very remote and at the end of a 4kM dirt-trail so none of the usual 'launch it at the bumps at 60kph and let the supple French springs sort it out,' no, picking our way ever so slow avoiding largest ridges & craters we made it. Enjoyable {if truncated} afternoon over it would have been nice to think it was all downhill on the way back - but it isn't. Victoria pass between Hartley & Mt. Vic is the steepest obstacle en-route and any thoughts that I might get a momentum building run up at it were dashed with the abrupt eruption of red and blue lights behind on the approach. Pulled over to the side my first thoughts were "Oh they want check I've filled out my Historic Rego logbook" {I had, that morning}. Just to keep its mystique of French enigmacity the 505 chose the moment the officer of the Lerrrrrr approached for the window to twitch down 10mm then seize - Merde! Well all she wanted after studying my Licennnnse was to carry out an RBT, then inform be I was committing a felony by not having an operational window. Duly promised to fix it very first thing the next time daylight hit I was allowed to go on my way - as all this was going on I heard the 'offsider' officer remark "very full car." I was crestfallen that my carefully completed log was of zero interest to the thin blue line - almost feel I've "wasted" a day now Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr But the best bit was that I could spend the next week telling my B-i-L that he really, reaaally needs to buy himself a classic Pug Wagon
some pics of the event - probably of no interest other than to me;
