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That place was mint. I didn’t know it had changed owners. Worth a look
We got royally sunburnt

Good to hear. It’s my local and whilst Sam the manager has tried hard with it the owners weren’t supporting him. Let’s hope it turns out decent.

Since I last posted, a lot has happened with LFF. A LOT.

A week out from IMM and I noticed the dynamo making a bit of a racket. This was one of those things that I simply 'recommissioned' instead of rebuilding. Whilst there was charge coming out of it, and the rear bush was well lubricated, the brushes were New Old Stock, the front bearing hadn't seen any action in the way of maintenance since it was sold to me as a 'Recon' for the princely sum of £15 by Ockendon Motor Spares sometime before the Millennium Bug was a thing.

Luckily John new a bloke at work, who by now almost had free beer from me until well into his dotage, who could take a look. He advised on the bearing, my local bearing place dug an SKF up and I pulled the dynamo and sent it over to John for attention.

Bearing was changed, end plates were cleaned up nicely, fan stripped back to it bare plated finish and the pulley cleaned and painted. The commutator was out of round so it got skimmed and then the whole thing put back together and tested. The quieter operation was very noticeable too.

An oil and filter change was also carried out, the grille, surround and whisker fitted up and the remaining body holes closed with grommets or if no grommets were available, butyl tape in lieu.

The MiniSpares moustache arrived damaged and so was added to the ever increasing pile of not fit for purpose new parts. They've since sent a new one, but in the meantime, I've come to rather like the patination which is almost down to the brass on the original and the juxtaposition of new and old brightwork is quite endearing.

More or less ready for IMM...

At 2am on 23 May it was time to bite the bullet and find out if we could get this thing to IMM. The ultimate shakedown was coming..

The first leg of the journey, some thirty miles to Thurrock Services to meet the other cars going from Essex Mini Club was completed at a sedate pace, and the de-mister tested and found to be as hopeless as ever it was. Various rattles and squeaks began to reveal themselves and whilst I was accustomed to them, these proved to be extremely alarming to John who up until that point hadn't been a passenger in LFF since before the pop charts had witnessed The Spice Girls. Draughts also came in from all angles, later found to be because doors don't properly seal against the rubbers and without front door cards in (because I 'lost' the drainpipes and couldn't fit them) the open drain holes simply serve as places for air to howl through.

Onto the A2 through the roadworks and an odd offbeat thrum started to come from the engine. That kind of noise that makes the experienced among us start to think 'head gasket', but the temp remained normal and whilst performance was flatter than a pancake that had been further flattened, nothing else untoward happened. We resolved to fiddle with the fuelling as soon as we could.

Before long, it was time for a fuel stop and onto the 6am DFDS sailing from Dover to Dunkerque where I managed to catch a long and restful snooze. Well, thirty minutes maximum at least. And then onto French soil, something I doubt this car has ever experienced, and of course we truly were in the lap of the gods as far as being recovered went. Onto the first bit of motorway, trundling along in convoy behind Rick's ratty old Clubman Estate it wasn't long before hazard lights went on. Not mine, I don't have them, but Rick's. It later transpired his fuel pump had expired, the first of several facet failures we were to hear of over the coming days. John and I pressed on and called in at the first fuel stop where we swapped out the D6 needles for the M's that had been fitted previously. Now on a combination of Red Springs and M needles with a little bit of richening, we headed back out on the French A roads and 'tested'. A couple of stops for fiddling later and we had a car that would now happily sprint up to 70mph and beyond.

After sprinting to 70mph, and with the convoy behind us and out of comms (they're all on CB radios, whilst we only had LFF's endless rattles, buzzes, panel drumming and other potentially sinister noises to keep us company) we made some very brisk progress along the road until the beautiful French tarmac gave way to something approaching 1 grit sandpaper. We'd arrived in Belgium. Motorway speeds here were something else and before long, I'd run out of numbers on the clock and I'd probably pushed it too hard. The 'thrum' of doom had returned, John was adamant the head gasket was toast and that we'd be going home on a recovery truck. Still, temps remained normal, but the paranoia that can build up when you're in an unknown car, on foreign soil, with a lack of sleep and FAR too much blood in your caffeine stream eventually led me to listen to John, cog the speed down and plot an alternative route from wherever the heck we were in Wallonia through Luxembourg and onto our overnight stop in Thionville. Furthermore, John REALLY wanted some K-Seal and so a wild goose chase was had across several small towns and villages in search of a 'fluid pour la jointe de culasse..' Yet, mile after mile after mile on minor roads and local A roads, LFF continued forward, still not throwing water out or boiling up. Eventually, after what seemed like weeks, we reached Thionville for our overnight stop and an argument with a Maitre d' in a buffalo grill about having drinks while waiting a Demi heure for une table.

LFF had drank and used some oil, but overall fuel consumption was in the mid 40's. Not too bad.

The next morning, after a surprisingly restful sleep in a budget Ibis hotel it was time to get going and head for our next overnight stop just south of Lucerne. But John was adamant that K Seal needed to go in the engine. Coolant was a crystal blue colour, oil, a slowly blackening honey colour and after a fair bit of driving around, we found somewhere to sell us what John was convinced we needed. After an exchange of about 70 EUR, I was the proud owner of a shiny new 'cric rouler' (yes, I'd forgotten a jack, even a basic wheel changing one..) and a can of Barrs Leak (aka, a turd).

We found somewhere 'discreet' to drain a drop of that lovely, clear, pristine, coolant out to make room. John shook the can for way beyond the regulation two minutes before tipping what, and it's nickname is accurate, was something that resembled sewage into the header tank. Filled with the magical head gasket leak curing properties of this stuff, some of France's finest Non-Ethanol Sans Plomb 95 petrol and as many lovely croissants and jam as I could manage we headed onto the Autoroute to get some serious miles in.

We were passed by a contingent of Belgian Minis, clearly also heading to IMM, at that point the only other cars outside of the club convoy we'd seen. I resisted and didn't give chase, just keeping our forward motion reserved to a decent but bearable 65 mph. Miles passed, the sun got hotter, the temperature crept up in line with the environmental factors and more miles passed. Eventually, the roads got interesting as we turned away from the motorway and headed deep into the Vosge region, along the Alsace border. A noise had been brewing for a while, but neither of use could really bring ourselves to own up to what we thought it could be, blithely ignoring the ever increasing grumble from somewhere, consistent with road speed and independent of gear or clutch positions. We pulled in somewhere lovely for a grand lunch. Pizza, Pelforth lager and cafe au lait in the town of Fraize.

John took over the tiller after lunch and enjoyed himself immensely as the D415 twisted and turned it's way out of Vosge, into the Haut-Rhein region on it's way to Colmar. The noise got worse. We got more worried. The paranoia set in and we decided to put the cric roulant to use by the side of the road. Jacking each wheel up in turn rocking and turning wheels didn't reveal wheel bearings that were anything other than happy. We had difficulty with the offside front, the driveshaft fouling on the aperture in the subframe at it's full extension, something to address later on. John fed the paranoia, as we drove on, mentally working our way through the drivetrain, before coming to the chilling conclusion that if it ain't wheel bearings, it's diff bearings. Or the gearbox main. LFF continued, it's only protest being that the odometer would stop recording distance at 70,999.9 as we rolled over the German border close to Bad Bellingen. From now on, it's only scope was to record the tenths. Over and Over.

Fuel was taken, thoughts were shared. To my mind, it was now a shit or bust situation and whilst I happily admit that the gearbox is weak on the car, in fact scrolling back up these pages will reveal that I simply took it to bits, cleaned it up, replaced two baulk rings with good second hand ones, a second hand double roller from Guessworks and reused the old RHP diff bearings albeit on different output shafts, I had to think that gearboxes surely DON'T make that kind of noise and that if catastrophic failure was imminent, it won't have been imminent for mile after mile after mile..

Soon we crossed the Swiss border where driving standards from the locals became somewhat interesting. Oh, you want to turn across oncoming traffic? BE MY F***ING GUEST... etc etc. We kept off the motorway, electing instead to follow Highway 2 which wended its way through rolling hills, alongside tranquil lakes and small villages before passing through Essen and Lucerne. All the while, the howls and growls of protest coming from somewhere in the front of LFF getting noisier and noisier. Our overnight stop was at Schwendelberg, just to the South, and as it happened, up a VERY steep hillmountain.

We came to rest to the sound of cowbells, the cool Swiss air being pleasant to inhale and a welcome change from the oily, fume-ridden interior of LFF. The silence was, as the song said, golden. Beers were had that night, to wash down the excellent veal goulash and distress signals were sent out, both here and on social media. The wisdom told us to go and see Gregor at Nick's Garage in the morning...

The next morning, heads were sore. Among other questions was the eternal 'why did I drink too much?' followed by the age old 'never again'. Overnight, some encouraging words were written on the internet by people in the know suggesting that we have another long hard look at the wheel bearings, one from gearbox guru John Guess, backing up my assumption that a bearing swimming in oil wouldn't howl like a Calgon starved Indesit washer on it's 10,000th load of kids muddy football kit.

I called Gregor, he answered, I explained, he told us to get the car up there and they'd have a look. A route was plotted. I was feeling optimistic, and rightly so. After a gentle, if horrifically noisy run along Motorways 14 and 4 to Nick's Garage in Zufikon to the west of Zurich we met Gregor and Ryan (English, which was such a relief as Google translate can only get you so far!) where coffee was waiting. One of the mechanics, Oli took LFF round the block and diagnosed a wheel bearing. Gregor disappeared off to the basement where he returned with a brand new Cooper 998 drive flange and a new Timken bearing and explained to Oli what to do as he'd not seen the 998 set up before. The wheel bearing merely clicked as it rotated, no play, no slop, none of the usual dead wheel bearing symptoms. On removing it, the inner race remained stuck fast to the flange while the outer race collapsed.

This was a bearing that had by that point covered about 1500 miles. Not thinking to fit the Timken bearing to LFF on account of the 998 set up, I didn't, and what was on offer was a MiniSpares parallel type drum brake bearing. It had been fitted using the grease supplied. And the cause of the failure of the bearing, was the failure of the grease. It had turned into a congealed mess, clearly not up to the job it was supplied to do. And I've added it to a list of components and fittings obtained from MiniSpares (and others) that are just NOT up to the job. OK, I'm a complete novice when it comes to things mechanical and as far as I'm concerned, if I buy a bearing for a job, from a reputable supplier, I expect the part, and the sundries supplied, to be up to the job. This absolutely wasn't. Not even near. A bearing costing what, £18 has now cost me lost time on the road, a pretty hefty bill at Swiss garage rates and also set off a suspicion that the nearside bearing won't be far behind.

Nick's Garage is worthy of a post in it's own right. While we were there we found a treasure trove of bits like nothing ever seen before. If you were wondering where all the thin flange S blocks are, all the 190 and 333 boxes, all the exotic bits and bobs.. well, they're in Zufikon! As we were leaving, another British car was on it's way in, this one with suspension problems and some very concerning noises coming from the head.

But anyway, once that was all done, we were back on the road and Ryan's suggestion of avoiding the Gotthard tunnel/pass in favour of the St Bernardino was taken. Another fuel stop, yet more oil chucked in and we were on our way. Thankfully we had a good breakfast because the sandwich we had at that early afternoon fuel stop would mark the start of 'Nil by mouth' for MANY hours to come..


Another 'FF' in the graveyard..

Nice to read about your Trip and you get Help from my old Master Grego!

I was very lucky to get my formaiton as Mecanic at Nick's Garage!

I worked almost 6 years there and has all my knowledge from him.

His Skills as a Mecanic and Racing Driver are legendary...

Fanfaniracing wrote: ↑Tue Jun 06, 2023 4:39 pm Nice to read about your Trip and you get Help from my old Master Grego!

I was very lucky to get my formaiton as Mecanic at Nick's Garage!

I worked almost 6 years there and has all my knowledge from him.

His Skills as a Mecanic and Racing Driver are legendary...

Thanks, yes it was very clear that he is extremely accomplished as a mechanic and in fact on the day we visited he was heading off for a weekend's racing at Nurburgring.What a great place to work too, I can imagine the skills you learned there are invaluable!

With what we now hoped were the remains of LFF's mechanical problems behind us, we began the climb into the Alps with a watchful eye on the temperature gauge. Our colleagues from Essex Mini Club had gone over the top of the Gottenburg pass but in the interests of time we were headed for San Bernadino and the tunnel pass. And it was spectacular! We finally arrived at the peak of the pass for a break, stretch legs, a check of the mixture again before beginning the descent which seemingly went on forever and ever. As we swooped down from the Alps the outside temperature soared and I started thinking about how those 998 brakes were likely to cope. On this leg at least, they took the descent in their stride, not once suggesting that they'd reached thermal overload.

Switzerland, at this point, seemed to stretch forever, or maybe it was our combined tiredness and I was convinced that I was in Italy even though the road signs were referring to Como (I), Milano (I) and of course, I'd not seen a border anywhere! Before long, we were in the heavy traffic on the outskirts of Lugano, stopping and starting frequently. I'd been running with the headlamps on, assuming that most modern drivers aren't looking for cars at all, just lights, and only when not being otherwise entertained by whatever was on their phone, or in car touchscreen. We came across an Austrian Mini stranded on the hard shoulder, about five miles outside of Como and so we pulled in.

Peter and his young daughter Emma had been there for over two hours, still awaiting a tow truck with their red Mk4 Mini and their failed Facet pump. We rummaged through our spares box and found them a gravity fed SU pump, not really the best solution but momentarily their engine started. We later found Peter at the IMM site and sadly it didn't deliver enough fuel to get him going, but we tried our best for him! LFF refused to start at this point thanks to a flat battery (I hadn't switched the lights off while helping Peter and Emma..) but a quick nudge from John and we were back in business.

Again, heavy traffic in Como and we made it over the border in the town, thanks to a diversion from Waze. At this point we thought we were home and dry... Another fuel stop was made and we tried to get coffee and food - thanks to a broken down card reader and ATM, food was unavailable, and with the light now threatening to fade, we hit the A1 as fast as we dared.

Apologies to any Italians on this wonderful forum. I love you all and your country is spectacular in many many ways, but please have a word about your motorway driving! It's dreadful! I ended up running at a speed I wasn't overly happy with to try to avoid the suicidal lorry drivers in lane one and the suicidal SUV drivers in lanes two and three. Also trying to second guess the endless number of roadworks which closed lane one with barely 50 yards notice and with drivers in adjacent lanes absolutely oblivious of merging traffic on the right, made the next couple of hours some of the most highly charged and risky moments in all my years of driving. Eventually, the inevitable happened. Up ahead, with fresh steam rising from the demolished body shells of a Fiat Panda, something unrecognisable and an HGV, carnage was strewn across all three lanes. The two smaller vehicles would have passed us barely minutes previously. I felt awful having seen the aftermath of this, some were walking, some were not and for a while, John and I considered our position in the most unsuitable of vehicles on the carriageway at that point. Eventually, the apparently extremely important folks hurrying home let us into lane three so we could also pass the scene of destruction and on we continued, navigating contraflow after contraflow, short notice lane closure after short notice lane closure.

It was now getting extremely late and dark. We entered another of the A1's tunnels. Traffic ground to a halt. A long halt. Conscious of LFF's previous battery outage I kept it ticking over, but the endless fiddlings with the carburettors had left us with a pretty unpredictable idle speed. It was hot in the tunnel. It was a constant battle between raising engine revs and pushing the temperature gauge all the way to the dreaded 'H' and without wishing to cause a push start in the tunnel, we chose to keep the engine running. Lights off for the duration and revs increased, I became aware of a haze of blue smoke from the back of the car, maybe this was where the oil was going (apart from seeping out of the rocker cover gasket..)? After a while the traffic moved, and now with more than a little clutch judder we inched forward, so close to the restful nights sleep that awaited us, surely. But no, the Italian Roadworks Department had other ideas and three lanes of solid traffic were directed onto a single carriageway, through a small village, up the side of a mountain. Now I'm playing the clutch judder, dying battery, smoking exhaust, rising temperature game up a 1 in 3, oh what fun. And of course, we are starving. At this time, my temper started to fray. It was gone midnight, we'd been on the road since 08:30 the day before and we still had some miles to cover, and at the rate they were going, was going to take the remainder of the night. We pulled in and let LFF cool off, parking it nose down the hill just in case. The traffic passed, John fiddled with the mixture, which seemed to have gone rich, very rich, and in my mind had probably caused lots of bore wash hence the smoke. Soon we were back on our way, with only a little bit of A1 left to do (tolled of course..) before we made it to the IMM site.

Gone 1am and with a hospitality van blocking direct access to our accommodation, their helpful suggestion of 'park over there' wasn't cutting it. Wasn't my finest hour as I 'explained' that I was going to do no such thing and 'advised' that they move their van..

But we were there, safe, sound, shattered.

Tomorrow would be a day of rest. And beer.



"Check names of all passengers boarding at Linate and Malpensa"
"But the Police will be doing this"
"We know who they are, the Police don't"

Clearly a script error in the Italian Job, which had originally been set in Milano...
At the summit of the San Bernadino pass

You and LFF are really tough cookies
Glad you made it through Italian traffic in one piece.

There are many unwrittenn rules in Italian traffic, which if unbeknownst, may leave foreigners shell shocked.
One of many: 2 marked lanes offer at least space for 3 cars in parallel.

You need to go with the flow (if you can - you better can! ).

After a day of relaxation and lager, we decided to head for the coast, the Adriatic, as to have driven all that way and not seeing the sea wouldn't do. We also decided to rack up another country by passing through San Marino. A bit of light maintenance first and that included adjusting the voltage regulator so that there was sufficient charge with the revs up and the headlights on, a fiddle with the carbs and idle, fluids and levels topped off. We were seeing A LOT of oil off..

It was a pleasant drive out there, across a relatively empty motorway before heading off the beaten track to scale some pretty steep hills. It was here that LFF started to complain. Very tight turns with a lot of torque being deployed made the CV joints click and creak and eventually the temperature gauge indicated that really it was time for a break. We hadn't been driving hard as such, just trying to maintain forward motion and the ambient temperature was probably close to thirty degrees. Stopping to let it cool down and take in the view we also removed the A plus engine shield which had been fitted in case of foul weather. This helped reduce the temperature underbonnet, which by now was looking more than a bit ratty. Oil leaks abound, the MiniSpares sunbonnet sound deadening continuing to peel away with the temperatures and once we felt refreshed, we continued. It wasn't long before we entered San Marino for a gelato before continuing to Rimini.

I have to say, Rimini was disappointing. I'd hoped to find somewhere nice to eat but in a way it reminded me of Southend on Sea, and so after a quick paddle in the Adriatic it was time to head back.

At this time, we had the bright idea that a curry would be a good idea. Bearing in mind it was approaching 6pm, John had set the navigation for Indian Restaurants in Florence, and that was several hours away.. Anyway, back on the road we headed after yet another fuel and oil stop.

The road we chose was utterly SPECTACULAR. It wound its way across the Emilia Romagna region, which only weeks before had been devastated by flooding. The road had fallen into the ravine at several points, detritus ranging from trees to kids toys littering the waterways below, ruined buildings and crops everywhere. Following the SP9ter from Forli to San Godenzo was one of the drives of my life. Tight hairpin after tight hairpin, stunning scenery and not a soul to be seen for much of the route.. I'd recommend a run along here if you find yourself in the region. At one point I did find the limit of the 998 brakes, but it was predictable and probably no worse than any fade I've experienced on any other car I'd driven the brakes to the limit on.

Florence and it's mythical curry house turned out to be a nightmare - by the time we got there it was dark, the city was absolutely RAMMED with traffic and a Mk1 Mini was less than ideal. We headed back to our campsite to the southeast of Florence, calling into a fantastic restaurant for yet more steak and wine.

It was soon time to return and so our thoughts turned to planning the route home. We dug out the trusty map (I don't know about you, but there's something about a proper map that an app on a phone just can't replace). Wishing to avoid the expense of Switzerland hotels and wanting to take in a special route, we decided to head West from Florence, towards the coast, up past Genoa, onwards to the Aosta Valley, crossing the Alps via the Grand St Bernard Pass (which our French neighbours had told us was open) before looping round Chamonix towards our overnight stop in France just South of Geneva. It was an ambitious days driving of around 450 miles and even now looking at it, was probably a step too far! But, we did it anyway..

We got into a good groove along the Italian Motorways for the first leg of the journey, LFF keeping up a good 65 to 70 mph and apart from a bum clenching incident where I hit a large block of polstyrene that flew off a lorry a few hundred ahead, it was a good run. Temperature seemed normal, no nasty noises coming from anywhere, the sweet scent of burning oil on every gear change and overrun.. We briefly joined a convoy with a group of French Minis and shared a fuel stop with a team from the UK running a pickup and a Hornet among their fleet. Many thanks for the cable tie BTW! As we got further North, and the Aosta Valley loomed into view, the scenery changed. The rolling Tuscan Hills long behind us, the dull and boring flat industrial landscapes to the South of Turin and Milan were history and some serious hills appeared. We were still going really well, in fact, I'd probably got a bit carried away, speedo needle indicating 75mph for a good hour or so when something happened. A slight misfire. This sent John into panic mode and my confidence ebbed. We pulled into a lay-by and had a look at the plugs. Loads of deposits all over number 1, number four looking a bit ropey. Still no rising temps or loss of coolant, so we rebalanced the carbs and pressed on, a little more slowly. Tomorrow would reveal the cause of the intermittent misfire but for now, I was dying to get off the motorway and onto the Grand St Bernard to relive the opening of the Italian Job.

I found the road, and started the climb, despite the sign indicating the road had been closed. On getting out of the car to have a look down I could see the flyover that the Miura had roared across with Beckermann at the wheel and ahead of me were a series of turns that have made cinema history. Going up as far as we possibly could before the road was closed (with diggers no less..) was a great experience, but is definitely unfinished business! We headed for the Tunnel, adding a good two hours onto the trip and with that loss of two hours, we declined the opportunity to turn off the road to head for the Col even though this was an option. I am kicking myself now as this would have been fantastic, but I shall return another time.

Into Switzerland and much cooler air as we descended the other side, the scenery as spectacular as ever, before arriving at the village of Martigny where we turned towards Chamonix. And the climbing started. LFF wasn't running at it's best by this point and second gear was about all it'd pull, a change up to third being a step too far. The climb continued until Col de la Forclaz, around 1400 metres or so and the descent introduced the second 998 brake fade. This one was also predictable but took a good while to cool down. My road speeds were higher than the run across Emilia Romagna and by this point I just wanted a comfy bed!

By the time we arrived at our overnight stop in Annemasse, we were both exhausted and ready for a good sleep. We nearly had an extended trip when I almost ended up back on a péage autoroute right opposite the hotel, but some frankly reckless reversing avoided that...

Tomorrow would be about Geneva, Lausanne and some glorious French roads. But for now, microwave Boeuf Bourginon and lager was in order!
My view of the opening of the Italian Job..A still from from the opening of the Movie

MiNiKiN wrote: ↑Wed Jun 07, 2023 11:46 am You and LFF are really tough cookies
Glad you made it through Italian traffic in one piece.

There are many unwrittenn rules in Italian traffic, which if unbeknownst, may leave foreigners shell shocked.
One of many: 2 marked lanes offer at least space for 3 cars in parallel.

You need to go with the flow (if you can - you better can! ).

Hence my requirement for speed. Much more speed!

Annemasse to Thioville, the penultimate leg of the ultimate shakedown started well. Very well. A superb petit dejuner was had, the map had been consulted, LFF seemingly not protesting about anything inparticular beyond a rampant thirst for oil and inflicting increasing amounts of discomfort on the ageing torsos of John and I, the course for the day was set. We'd head along the Autoroute, back across the Swiss border into Geneva, around the lake to Lausanne before heading north towards Besançon where we figured good lunch could be taken. That'd be followed by a straightforward run along the N57 and A31 into Thionville.

As days on the road went, this one was pretty straightforward and passed more or less without incident. When I say, without incident, we did have an unscheduled stop resulting in a wheel off, some precarious jacking and a fuel pump investigation. This was after a purposeful, but lacklustre lunch at a supermarket in Besancon.

Whilst Geneva and Lausanne delivered spectacular lakeside scenery, I'd been glad to get back to the rolling pastures of France, as it felt like I was on the way home and the early part of the route to Besançon from Lausanne was perfect. We failed to find a good lunch in the village of Montfaucon outside Besançon and running critically low on fuel, we limped on to Besançon. As well as a wide range of food, a wide range of fuel was on offer. Unleaded 95. Unleaded 100. Unleaded 95 E10. E85.. all the way across France, I have been able to get 'proper' petrol untainted by Ethanol, why are we being subjected to it in the UK?

Anyway, bellies and tank filled we got back on the N57 for the final leg. LFF had other ideas. With a splutter and some swearing we made our first 'failure to proceed' stop at the side of the road. Float bowls empty we looked at the pump. There was a broken glass fuse in the fuse box (god knows how, but it was still happily conducting) and it wasn't that. We deployed the cric obtained the last time we were in France and hoisted the rear passenger side skywards before shoving the spare and the near side rear under the car as a makeshift axle stand. There'd been a fuel filter fitted to catch any junk coming out the tank and it now had the best part of 3000 miles on it, the only visible problem being a faint red trace to the paper filter. We decided to ditch that on the basis the tank was as clean as it'd ever be and see if that helped. Still no joy. One of the electrical connections (the positive) had come loose, possibly as a result of the impact with the polystyrene block near Genoa the previous day, so that was tightened. Eventually after the usual clobbering it sprang back to life, filling the float bowls and letting the engine run.

John kept the jack handle handy waiting for another incident, his gilet jaune at the ready, but nothing. The remainder of the run to Thionville passed without a hitch and despite further oil leaks and burning, we made Thionville by about 6:30pm. And decided on a curry.

I love France, almost everything about it. But frankly, it couldn't produce a curry if La France depended on it. So we had a nice skinful of beer to wash down the several pints of cream and curry powder and headed off to bed, fresh (sort of) and ready for the final leg. By now, this freshly restored car was looking like it'd been in the wars. It's never had a flat or polish and was roughly slung together with seconds to spare before being subjected to a rolling road, Blyton and 2500+ miles to Italy and back. So far so, good..

And the final leg, finally arrived. All along, I'd intended to join some locals from the Essex Mini Club on this adventure, but our cars seemed to have different ideas. This morning though, we were all up bright and early ready for the last 250 miles to Dunquerke. Oils checked and topped up, croissants lifted from the buffet, coffee imbibed. What could possible go wrong. On hearing 'Gentlemen, start your engines!' bellowed from Jim's 1993 car, a cacophony of A series cold starts were heard. Followed by the extended starting effort of Roy's blue 1975 car with an AC Dodd tuned 1275 engine. Try as he might, it wasn't having any of it. Tools were broken out and diagnoses began. Seems that the choke mechanism on his car had turned to mush in his HIF44 allowing way more fuel that was needed to flood his carburettor. Not wanting to break the convoy, we offered support where we could, he even fitted the old redundant fuel filter from LFF in the hope that it was muck from the tank making the float overflow, but several of the crowd knew the score. That carb needed a rebuild. Without the tools or parts to do it, the best that could be hoped was that we'd get Roy's car to run happily enough that it wouldn't foul the plugs up and that's what Jim did in the end.

By the time we got going, we'd lost the best part of two hours and I was now in the position I'd been dreading all along; having to drive like my hair was on fire to make the ferry. We hit the autoroute and my fuel pump promptly decided it'd had enough. Gilet jaune, jack handle, wallop, off again. Until the next slow down. Gilet jaune, jack handle, wallop.. Etc etc.

At a fuel stop, we decided to grab a couple of pictures on the next section of motorway, Red White and Blue for GB and Green White and Red for Italia. It seems the club convoy had flexible tickets and that they'd misunderstood their timings so despite the urgency, they were sticking to a regulation 50 mph. Along the E42 I finally decided enough was enough. I opened the throttle and watched the speedo needle head towards the bit between 70 and 80 and with a watchful eye on the temperature gauge I kept it for the duration. Apart from a quick stop to top up with oil (consumption by now was almost on a 1-1 with fuel!) we kept the hammer down until we made Dunquerke at 5pm. A good long wait while UK Border Farce sorted themselves out (a queue of five cars taxed them..) and we were on our 6pm ferry. The remainder of the Essex Mini Club were the very last vehicles onboard and we sat and had a quiet pint recounting tales of the sights we'd seen and planning the next intercontinental jaunt.

Dover to home in Maldon, Essex was a rapid affair. Speed remained above 70mph all the way home and I eventually got home around 9pm, exhausted.

Car started happily in the morning and took me to work and back, still wearing it's dead bugs, road dust, interior still trashed with empty crisp packets and water bottles.

Who on earth would have thought that 2600 miles could be such a brilliant adventure? I certainly didn't, but I'd do it tomorrow if I could.

For now though, there's a few things to sort out on the car;

- Nearside wheel bearing needs changing to a Timken type (I don't trust the one fitted, same as the one that failed in Switzerland)
- Oil consumption (burning and leaking) - seems that I'd fitted top hat seals along with the large metal shroud - could that be the cause of the oil consumption? Leaks aside, I'll pull the head and have a look, there's a reasonable 202 that will do for now
- Gearbox noises.. well, sometimes it sounded primary gear like, but as the box was only recommissioned, not rebuilt, who knows.
- Interior - it was fun to resurrect the interior as it was when I had it on the road in the 90's but time hasn't been kind to it. At least it needs seat foams, at best, something better for touring use. The bus wheel is OK, but I'd like something more Moto-Lita like. Sound deadening and new carpet set needs fitting. Draughts all need sorting out.
Fumes - I managed to pick up a brand new unused PCV valve for little money at IMM and I think I'll get a suitable manifold and plumb it in. Getting rid of the ever present pong of oil mist might be helpful for longer journeys.
Brakes - I found the 998 brakes to be more than adequate and I'll happily argue the '998 brakes are worse than drums' with anybody over several pints in the pub. That said, I will try a better compound than the EBC blackstuff pads it's currently got fitted. When I saw them in Switzerland on the ramp, they looked like they were about 50% worn... It's seen some alpine action since then and two big fade incidents, so I suspect they're ready for a change.
Cooling - I didn't really have a problem with cooling compared to others but I think a larger pulley, a plastic fan (though I love the noise of a sixteen blade at speed!) and maybe a wing mounted auxiliary would be beneficial to keeping the needle in the middle. I think I did all this on an 88 degree stat too, so fair play to the recored Coventry flat top radiator, it did a great job, only spat a small amount out at the top of the silly climb just outside San Marino. That said, an expansion tank might also be a worthwhile addition and can be hidden inside the nearside wheel arch.
Refinement Frankly the noise inside at speed is unbearable. Whatever is needed to civilise the thing is going to have to be done if this is going to be a car that I'd take on further long distance drives. It's mainly exhaust boom which I think is due to the mounts - I wonder if the pig nose rubber mounts and an RC40 would help cut the boom down? Also, the exhaust is louder inside than out which is very strange. Outside it just sounds like a twin box Mayfair.. So I want more, and less, noise

I think I'll also recommission the 850 engine to drop in as a turnkey spare and then I can fully investigate the 1098. In the event I've killed the bores with a mixture that's too rich and advance that's far to advanced I think I'll bite the bullet and build a 1300. For touring, this car needs to be able to comfortably sit at 75mph with enough to spare and have enough go to be able to scale alpine passes without being a liability. Maybe a good 1098 build will do this, but if there's machining involved, it makes sense to go 1300.

Oh, and maybe I'll see about that flat and polish and see if I can make it look presentable, like it's a freshly restored car, and not an old banger that's been dragged out of a hedge! Also to follow is BMW MINI's interview with me as the owner of the oldest original car at IMM, I was beaten only by a fellow in a 1960 car although that had been extensively modified with some very interesting engineering solutions.

The story doesn't stop here, it's only just starting, so watch this space as the next phase of enjoying this old thing starts.

Been a while since I've been back from Italy and following some shoulder surgery, for a while, all I could manage to drive was LFF. Been a few more developments and hope to get a few improvements to things soon. I've been running it to and from the office and using it for all sorts of errands, and by and large, it's been 'reliable'. A few niggles, but nothing major.

1. Oil consumption is ridiculous - a combination of leaks, potential crankcase pressure and a faulty valve guide seal.

I've got a 12G202 which John is reconditioning for me. 80 thou skim, new valves, new guides, recut the seats, new springs, studs etc etc. I'll try this and see if the overrun oil burning reduces by any significant amount. We'll fit the top hat seals to inlets and exhausts and this time I won't fit the large metal shroud as I suspect that they're fouling the top hat seals on the 295.

Breathing - I've now obtained a PCV valve and 12A661 P2 inlet and so hoping that will improve the breathing. I'll also move to a standard Mini plastic vented cap as the stainless Moss one seems to allow loads and loads of oil mist. Additionally, I'll swap out the rocker cover for a later non vented one to effectively create a 998/1098 PCV set up. Hopefully that will reduce pressure, stop oil mist and stop it stinking quite so much.

I also think I created a leak when I tried to fit a lower engine steady to the speedo drive housing - any tips of solving that leak in situ?

2. Head gasket - on the run to Italy, we suspected the head gasket was leaking and so we put a Barrs Leaks in. Car now gets a bit hot and bothered when asked to work hard, though it doesn't boil..

I'll try the Victor Reinz one this time (was unobtainable when I built up the engine and I'll move over to some new studs. Any thoughts on the C-AHT280 studs? I also saw a post from Calver suggesting use of Loctite 3020 on the Reinz gasket, any thoughts?

3. Speedometer

The old black faced SDL item stopped counting at 70999.9 and I managed to cobble together a nice cream faced one, which kind of tells the speed (over reads consistently by 6-8 MPH, so I presume I need to move the needle back down a bit to get a bit more tension in the hairspring. Also, this speedo won't count any miles at all, so I'm still at a pristine zero.. Another thing to pull back out, probably need to look at the lever on the end that engages the teeth on the first ring.

4. Trim

Whilst it's been nice to see the car more or less how I remember it, the state of the interior is shameful. In the absence of funds for a pair of nice front seats, I'll try to remove the covers, clean them and see if I can replace the foams and diaphragm. At the moment I have Pirelli straps but I've got a new flat rubber diaphragm. Before pulling the thing to bits, does anyone know if these parts are interchangeable? Also, apart from forking out for Newton, does anyone know of a good source of foams that are cheaper? I don't intend to keep these non-standard seats for long, they've just got to be a bit better than they are for a while.

I've also got the budget mini spares carpet to fit - any tips on how to make a reasonable job of that are welcome! Been putting that job off for a long time.

5. Carbs

My modified 850 solid choke cable really doesn't want to play ball with the twin carbs. At best, it's very stiff to pull out, like a both hands job, and once out, refuses to go back in. No clothes peg for me, just manual underbonnet choke actuation. The MiniSpares choke cable lasted all of three minutes before refusing to lock, so any suggestions for a better replacement are welcome.

They also seem to refuse to return to a nice idle so when the head's off, I'll go over the spindles and linkages again - maybe being on a different manifold will help. A good balance up should also help. It was also noted that the insides of the suction chanber appear to have been polished which might affect the rate at which they rise and fall, so I'll try to address that when they're off.

6. Driveshaft - offside

We noticed that the driveshaft fouls the aperture in the subframe when it was having the wheel bearing attended to in Switzerland. At full suspension extension, the shaft will rub on the aperture. I've no idea how or why, or what to do to fix this; surely enlarging the aperture isn't an option.. Anyone come across this before?

7 - Nearside rear radius arm bent?

On a brief visit to collect some bits from forum member Mark Roles, he commented that the excessive positive camber could be a bent radius arm. It certainly does exhibit more positive camber on one side than the other and the 'rear steer' effect is much more pronounced when that side is loaded up. How can I check?

Other general niggles involve leaky body seals, draughts, poorly fitting windows, flat paint etc, but I'll keep working on this over time.

I reckon total mileage since it's rebirth is now around the 4000 mark. And to be fair to it, the only times it's disgraced itself involved a duff wheel bearing, a poorly adjusted voltage regulator and an intermittent fuel pump, and most of it's work has been on journeys of 40-50 mile round trips. I put a lot of the reliability down to the electronic ignition in the AC Dodd fast road dizzy. I'm glad I didn't persevere with points.

My in situ check for a Bent Rear Radius is to measure from the center of the Radius Arm Pin to the center of the stub axle .. then measure the other side radius arm & the dimension should be near the same .. If not one radius arm is bent & it is was easy to see which one;
There is a past Forum Post on this subject .

Polarsilver wrote: ↑Mon Jul 24, 2023 8:30 pm My in situ check for a Bent Rear Radius is to measure from the center of the Radius Arm Pin to the center of the stub axle .. then measure the other side radius arm & the dimension should be near the same .. If not one radius arm is bent & it is was easy to see which one;
There is a past Forum Post on this subject .

Thanks. Is there a correct measurement? Is a bent radius arm a common thing? I’ve got a couple of cores that I could refurb and use but avoiding putting another bent one on would be good.

Rear Radius - or swinging - arms. I'm of the opinion that to bend a cast radius arm, built by the people who built stonehenge, you'd probably pull the outer end bracket from the sub frame before you'd get a radius arm to bend. What would be most likely is the actual mild steel stub axle has bent, downwards in this this case Gary.

You could easily test it on a surface plate, vee blocks and a dial test indicator. Normans measurement trick is fine for a horizontal bend but not for your vertical bend

A bent stub axle will upset the geometry of everything fixed to it such as the wheel bearings and brake drum etc. Another give-away sign is that the brake shoes - attached to the back plate BUT attached to the machined and square-on bearing surface of the actual swinging arm will be wearing very unevenly due to the now uneven brake drum rotating on the out-of-true stub axle.

New stub axles are a simple press-out/press-in job. On the other hand, if it were me, I'd just build up and test one of your spares, then do a straight swop.
That's just me, thinking on my feet Gary

Thanks Peter, useful advice as ever. I'll pull the drum and see how the shoes are wearing. It does make sense, but I drove the car for many miles prior to it's rebuild on the same radius arm and whilst it did always dart one way much quicker than the other and never felt as planted as the SPi I replaced it with or the Mk3 850 that went before it, I never noticed anything untoward with the rear brakes.

Worth checking though.