As spring awakens, I customarily give my transportation a tune-up, in preparation for a summer of posing, power slides and trips to Aldi. The oldest of the NC models originally filled with FL22 coolant are due a change, and I’ve duly refreshed mine. I wonder what FL22 represents? It’s not the coolest of coolant names. I prefer Thermo! or Polar Zone. Curiously, I get odd looks asking for my usual brand these days:
Nevertheless, they all taste mucho weird and give you decidedly heteromorphic dreams. For those of us of the Hillman Minx generation, who would think that coolant could be effective for a decade? It ain’t like the olden times, when, if you couldn’t afford Radweld to prevent your radiator weeing everywhere, you broke a raw egg into it. That worked a treat in an Anglia that I once used as a getaway car.
Here’s what 12 months and 15000 miles of everyday use on Britain’s salty roads does to your beautiful body:
Ugly, huh? Realising the need to sort this pronto, I considered spending hours on my back at the roadside underneath my ride. However, the neighbours have expressed some concern at the regularity of my lying in the gutter underneath things. Not wishing to lower house prices any further, I took the car to Total MX5 Repair in Barry. The proprietor, Mark Jefferies, kindly agreed to the use of his lift, tools and cleverness. In return I offered coffee and fashion tips.
As you all know, working on a wet machine is ultimately futile. Clean and dry is the mantra, and so whilst peculiar gloopy stuff dripped out of my sills, I put the kettle on.
Surface rust and old paint removed, here’s the off-side sill having rust inhibitor applied. Note the cosmetic deterioration to the underside of the car, due to jumping over speed bumps whilst outrunning cops with a boot full of moonshine. Barry Island is much like Hazzard County. Read on to see how I rectified this.
I supplied an acrylic base, applied deftly by Mark, so that it would be compatible with the old paint and be less fussy than some alternatives. Here we are at the priming stage:
And, drumroll please, now admire the top coat and completed job. I’m chuffed with the colour match. The rattle can was sourced from MX5 Parts. It’s all good for another twelve months.
Whilst Mark was executing the work that required skill, I assaulted various bits of the vehicle with a drill and wire brush. If I’m aware that aspects of my carriage are not presentable, I tend to become wan and blanched until it’s rectified. I carry a bloodless, cadaverous, eidolic, shopworn feeling. I knew there was some soiling to the rearmost of the front chassis braces and I could bear it only by summoning the spunkiest of sensibilities. So, I mended it.
Halfway through:
Restored and refitted:
There was nowt wrong with the original centre frame-rail brace but it hardly looks racy, does it?
Seduced by the come-hither appearance of the IL Motorsports alternative, my underneath now wears this:
I enquired of the manufacturer if the item will make my car go really, really fast and received the following response. Perhaps a reader will translate because I can’t speak European.
“Sie sind eine dumme Elch.”
Using petrol and brake cleaner as solvents, I cleaned away any old underseal that was no longer sealing my under, fortunately remembering to hand my cigar to a passing street urchin before splashing myself in highly flammable liquid. I then emptied numerous cans of Dinitrol 3125 & 4941, some of which went on the car. Most went on my face. One person was moved to comment on my pigmentation. Inevitable mess. Inevitableness.
After leaving Mark’s garage to his normal customers, I arrived home and was asked by a dawdling eight year old for the rationale behind undersealing my face. “Skin is naturally waterproof,” she astutely commented. Unthwarted, I scrubbed my head with a nail brush and white spirit for twenty minutes. Clean as a whistle. That showed her! Pesky eight year olds and their astuteness.
For some time, I’ve been disenchanted with the bland, flavourless appearance of the engine cover. I decided to paint it, despite the searing agony of my raw face. Here’s the cover sporting it’s plastic specific primer:
Whilst waiting between coats and requiring pain relief, I was moved to drink an awful amount of alcohol. I decided upon a satin black finish. Before losing consciousness, I refitted the cover:
I’m quite gladdened by the results and even the paramedic took a moment to compliment the dipstick treatment as a “nice touch” whilst he carried me into the ambulance.
Upon discharge, I drove the car to my preferred fitters for a new set of tyres. I’ve chosen the Kumho KU39 this time around. There’s something quite sexy about fresh rubber:
And finally, here are three glamour shots, taken over the Bank Holiday weekend. I’ve been using Bouncers Check The Fleck wax and Done & Dusted detailer for the past year. It gives fantastic results on mica paintwork.
Zoom Zoom if you must. I prefer to Vroom Vroom.
