Where were we? Ah yes, I remember...
I must apologise for my lack of progress with this car. Life had sort of got in the way and time was hard to find. Add to that me being easily distracted by other projects and we have a recipe for a fat lot of nothin' being done on this car.
The track car project which was taking up my time had hit a dead end, and when I got a better base car I took a step back and made myself re-prioritise. I missed the Bond and really wanted to take it to the Gathering this year, so I decided to leave the track car project (like I should have done in the first place!) and get my teeth into the Bond.
So, lets see how I left things...
The MOT had lapsed, but it had scraped through the last ones by the skin of its teeth and a request from my MOT man to "never bring that f*cking thing here again". He loves it really. Everyone does. Eventually.
I had spent a lot of time sorting the car's many mechanical maladies, but the structural metalwork was something which I knew needed addressing. So, before re-MOTing it, I need to get it solid.
I took a deep breath and got started...
^ Could be nothing, could be the tip of a very ugly iceberg...
The windscreen surround and A-pillars were in need of attention, so I started there.
^ Screen out. I didn't break it, which was nice.
^ Ugly!
^ Yikes!
Fortunately the A-pillars seem simple enough to fabricate. I read that when Bond recieved the bulkheads from Standard Triumph, they stripped out all the Triumph rustproofing - presumably because it interfered with the fibreglass bonding - but neglected to put any back after the thing was built. Thanks, Bond!
So, what else? I figured I might as well get everything out of the way so that I can see EXACTLY what I'm dealing with here.
^ Door off. The restored ones are waiting to go on.
^ Peek under the carpet... *shudder*
The seats would have to come out. I reckon one of the worst parts of classic car ownership is the deed of lifting the carpets. It's such a traumatic experience - such a simple act can send your "just needs a T-Cut and an oil change" daily driver into a bottomless (literally) pit of metalwork and toil as you lift it up to find a ferrous hell. And maybe an old Shilling.
The driver's seat was barely held in. Where once were captive nuts in the floor, there were now holes. A collection of washers, bits of steel, nuts and bolts were used instead. Once the seats were out, I was met with trepidation, facing that demon of classic car ownership - the carpet lift...
^ What lies beneath?
^ Pleasant surprise, apparently!
The rear floors were not too bad! The original gold paint shows that the original floor has stood up well to 45 years of use.
There was still plenty of work to do though...
^ Inner sill showing some lovely '70s style repairs.
^ Driver's side was as bad, if not worse.
The front footwells had already been explored, but here's a quick rogues gallery...
Patches on patches. On patches. The engine bay side of the bulkhead will need looking at too.
I was on a roll. Time to lift the rear seat...
^ Well, at least there are no patches.
^ It's a bit flaky though! No holes or drastic rot fortunately. A bit of whizz-wheel action should see this cleaned up alright.
^ The rear parcel shelf can rot away too, but mine seems to have escaped. It's quite badly corroded and pitted but it'll clean up.
One of the nice things about lifting the carpets is the "old car archaeology" you get to do. Finding relics of a bygone era beneath the seats and in the nooks and crannies almost makes up for the trauma of finding all the rot and bodgery. Almost.
This particular car didn't yield that much in terms of historic artefacts, just an old eyeliner under the back seat...
And a joke...
"Why can't ducks fly upside down? Because they'd quack up". The jokes were about as good as the bodywork repairs back then, then.
With all that done, there aren't many nasty surprises left to turn up really. I know the chassis needs a good looking at, as I'm certain I'll find some horrors there, but that's for another day!
I must apologise for my lack of progress with this car. Life had sort of got in the way and time was hard to find. Add to that me being easily distracted by other projects and we have a recipe for a fat lot of nothin' being done on this car.
The track car project which was taking up my time had hit a dead end, and when I got a better base car I took a step back and made myself re-prioritise. I missed the Bond and really wanted to take it to the Gathering this year, so I decided to leave the track car project (like I should have done in the first place!) and get my teeth into the Bond.
So, lets see how I left things...
The MOT had lapsed, but it had scraped through the last ones by the skin of its teeth and a request from my MOT man to "never bring that f*cking thing here again". He loves it really. Everyone does. Eventually.
I had spent a lot of time sorting the car's many mechanical maladies, but the structural metalwork was something which I knew needed addressing. So, before re-MOTing it, I need to get it solid.
I took a deep breath and got started...
^ Could be nothing, could be the tip of a very ugly iceberg...
The windscreen surround and A-pillars were in need of attention, so I started there.
^ Screen out. I didn't break it, which was nice.
^ Ugly!
^ Yikes!
Fortunately the A-pillars seem simple enough to fabricate. I read that when Bond recieved the bulkheads from Standard Triumph, they stripped out all the Triumph rustproofing - presumably because it interfered with the fibreglass bonding - but neglected to put any back after the thing was built. Thanks, Bond!
So, what else? I figured I might as well get everything out of the way so that I can see EXACTLY what I'm dealing with here.
^ Door off. The restored ones are waiting to go on.
^ Peek under the carpet... *shudder*
The seats would have to come out. I reckon one of the worst parts of classic car ownership is the deed of lifting the carpets. It's such a traumatic experience - such a simple act can send your "just needs a T-Cut and an oil change" daily driver into a bottomless (literally) pit of metalwork and toil as you lift it up to find a ferrous hell. And maybe an old Shilling.
The driver's seat was barely held in. Where once were captive nuts in the floor, there were now holes. A collection of washers, bits of steel, nuts and bolts were used instead. Once the seats were out, I was met with trepidation, facing that demon of classic car ownership - the carpet lift...
^ What lies beneath?
^ Pleasant surprise, apparently!
The rear floors were not too bad! The original gold paint shows that the original floor has stood up well to 45 years of use.
There was still plenty of work to do though...
^ Inner sill showing some lovely '70s style repairs.
^ Driver's side was as bad, if not worse.
The front footwells had already been explored, but here's a quick rogues gallery...
Patches on patches. On patches. The engine bay side of the bulkhead will need looking at too.
I was on a roll. Time to lift the rear seat...
^ Well, at least there are no patches.
^ It's a bit flaky though! No holes or drastic rot fortunately. A bit of whizz-wheel action should see this cleaned up alright.
^ The rear parcel shelf can rot away too, but mine seems to have escaped. It's quite badly corroded and pitted but it'll clean up.
One of the nice things about lifting the carpets is the "old car archaeology" you get to do. Finding relics of a bygone era beneath the seats and in the nooks and crannies almost makes up for the trauma of finding all the rot and bodgery. Almost.
This particular car didn't yield that much in terms of historic artefacts, just an old eyeliner under the back seat...
And a joke...
"Why can't ducks fly upside down? Because they'd quack up". The jokes were about as good as the bodywork repairs back then, then.
With all that done, there aren't many nasty surprises left to turn up really. I know the chassis needs a good looking at, as I'm certain I'll find some horrors there, but that's for another day!