This is the ego boosting page.

If you've just done something stupid to your car, read this. There's always someone who has done something sillier. Many thanks to those who have joined in the fun already by contributing (and in most cases, confessing). Look out for a new section on bodges! If you're an Imp fan or like three wheelers, there are some stories for you too.

Incidentally, I have been asked why there isn't more Skoda stuff here, given that I'm a Skoda fan. The fact is that my Skodas have been incredibly reliable to date, barring one alarming episode with a Rapid whose con rods tried to break out of the (eastern?) block and make a bid for freedom. I remember one day when it was teeming with rain. My Rapid ploughed through flood after flood, stopping only when I got out to lend some hapless stranded Eurobox driver some WD 40. Feeling smug, I arrived at my destination. And the exhaust dropped off. I reckon the welds where the Skoda's "Squeezy Bottle" silencer met the down pipes had sheared through sudden contraction due to frequent cold showers. It wasn't an original Skoda exhaust, though, and I subsequently found that the Skoda part was considerably cheaper!

Take this guy I knew who did the 'box on a Cortina (which he bought from a part-time clown). He was just nipping up the last bolts when he realised he couldn't move from under the car. His bushy beard had become trapped between the bellhousing and the engine block.

From Steve:

many years ago I stupidly bought a socket set and workshop manual from halfords, having convinced myself that the £100 I had been quoted for a new clutch was outrageous.I jacked up my trusty Viva HB and placed it sensibly on axle stands & set about albeit rather nervously removing every bolt I could see from the bell housing.Having taken off every possible obstruction to the gearbox removal I spent the next hour turning and shaking the box but despite breaking into a vindaloo type sweat the box would not come off.Giving it one last tug, the car itself visibly moved followed by an enormous bang.Having emerged from under the car in nano seconds with my heart pounding convinced I had nearly killed myself I quickly realised the bang was simply the bonnet slamming shut and the perceived movement of the car was imaginary as it was still securely on its stands.A mechanic friend kindly proved that the manual doesn't explain everything and that a gearbox will come off easier if you take off the gearstick and wooden gearknob first as they will not pass through the tunnel housing..................now where was that number for Mr Clutch.

Gary writes:

Sometime ago (you'll see how long by the petrol prices later on) I called my wife and asked her to pick me up from the railway station about 10 miles from our home. It was about 10:30pm and she complained that there was virtually no fuel in the Imp and all garages were shut. I told her to go to a petrol station near by which had a coin-in-the-slot petrol pump (50p for a gallon) "Where's the petrol cap?" she bleated. I told her it was a large cap under the bonnet - she couldn't miss it - and put the phone down and awaited her arrival.

When she arrived, I got in the driving seat and started off. I noted that the fuel gauge was at "E". "Did you get Petrol?" I asked.

"Yes, but it hardly took any, it was all but full."

"But it's on "E""

"Yes, is the gauge wrong?"

"I don't think so, how much did it take?"

"About an egg-cup full."

I stopped the car, opened the bonnet and asked her to show me what she did. She had filled the brake fluid reservoir...

From Jeffrey:

Hi years ago my brother in law had an old mini rusty as **** anyway he had a can of WD 40 in the boot an that's when Minis had batteries in the boot. The can somehow got between the terminals of the battery and bang! a loud explosion blowing the boot lid off and narrowly missing the car behind as he pulled up at traffic lights

Paul Gatens has sent in loads of fun stuff, much of it about Imps:

How not to fit a negative earth radio into a positive earth car

My first C reg Imp was one of the old cars that had positive earth and I wanted to fit a radio. All the new radios at that time had changed to being negative earth. I purchase a flash Motorola with FM and presets and set about the install. I had to insulate the radio to make sure that the case of the radio did not short out to the chassis. I achieved this by wrapping it in foam. The lead for the aerial went through the bulkhead and was attached to one of those highly fashionable whip aerials fitted to the front boot lid (don't forget the Imp engine is in the back) that clipped back to the gutter (Well smart!) I had finished the installation and I was tinkering around inside the car with the boot lid up listening to Radio Caroline. The wind was getting up outside and a gust blew so hard, it blew the boot lid off it's hinges and over the top the car! As the aerial was mounted on the boot lid, it yanked the radio out of it's new insulated mount and the case of the radio shorted on the metal dash. My parents looked out of the front window wondering what the hell was going on, to see me sitting in the Imp that was filling up with smoke from the smouldering foam! I managed to disconnect the radio before the whole car went up in flames.

Parking an Imp in a tight space

I had cause to go to Waltham Cross with a friend (Steve) in his Imp and me in my Imp (now blue with a red bonnet). Parking was a nightmare and we pulled up in a service road in front of the shops and found a very small gap. Steve reversed into the gap, leaving about 1/4" between his rear bumper and the car behind. I reversed up to Steve's front bumper and could not get the front round into the space. Steve suggested that we lifted the front of my Imp across into the space. For those that too young to remember Imps have rear alloy engines and the fronts are very light. We lift the front across leaving about 1/2" gap between my front bumper and the car in front. We popped into the shop to return to a big crowd around the Imps all wondering how the hell we managed to park these cars so close.

Tuning my Imp

I really enjoyed working on the old Imps and I learnt a lot about cars (especially head gaskets and radiators). Once I had made it reliable (not too reliable) I set about trying to find tuning bits for it. One of the first bolt on goodies I came across was a secondhand Janspeed 2" sports exhaust. The exhaust was a bit used and needed some repairs. I used an exhaust repair kit to repair the small holes and wanted to test to make sure it was a good repair before fitting it to the car. I plugged one end and then stuck the tail pipe over my mouth and blew up the pipe. Sure enough the pipe was air tight. I fitted the exhaust and then realised that I was suppose to be going around to a friends (Alan) and was late. I quickly got changed and jumped in the car and shot round to Alan's. I knocked at the door and I was meet will hails of laughter! My friend Alan said "What have you been doing? Blowing up car exhaust pipes or something?" He pointed me towards the mirror and sure enough I had a black 2" ring around my lips from blowing up the exhaust of the Imp!!!

How not to tow an Imp with another Imp

My C reg Imp was starting to look the dogs nuts! I had the Janspeed sports Exhaust, Twin Cibie Super Oscar lights and Steal split rims (steel wheels that had been cut and an extra 1" steel band welded in, to make them wider. Eeek!) shod with 12x620 crossplys and a smart looking whip aerial. It was now blue with a red bonnet lid (The one that blew off was too badly damaged). This smart motor (and the way that I drove it) was attracting some attention from some of the other lads and several of them were interested in getting themselves one. One young lad called Simon had found a green D reg in the local paper with 20,000 miles on the clock and one lady owner that had been standing for several years in a garage. Simon asked if I would go and have a look. The cars almost immaculate and quickly purchase for £50. We could not get it started so I suggested that I tow him with my Imp. Simon had only just passed his test and was not that familiar with the technique of being towed. I explained the routine. He was doing Ok, but riding the brake a bit heavy at times. We got to Dobbs Weir Lights (a hump-back single width bridge with traffic lights) and had to stop. The lights changed and I let the clutch out to pull up over the bridge. I had to give it some wellie as Simon was hold the brake too much. All of a sudden there was a load bang! and the poor little Imp revved up its limit. I went for the clutch and ignition at the same time. The clutch was solid and I turned off the ignition and jumped out to find that we had pulled the cross member out of my car and the engine was on the floor, hanging on the hydraulic clutch line! I tied up the engine using the tow rope while Simon managed to get the green Imp going. We then used the green Imp to tow my Imp home. Once home I inspected for damage and found that all that was needed was a new cross member. A light blue replacement cross member found and fitted.

Other modifications

I bought some secondhand Koni shock absorbers that had been used by on a stock racing Imp! One side was perfect the other side was completely knackered. The handling going around right handers was improved but left handers were not so good. I also brought a front radiator that had been in a crash. Although it was water tight it had a big twist in it. I had to use a big spacer on one side of it when I bolted it in. I ran the rubber pipe through the car to the front rad. This was well handy in the winter as the car was really hot. not so good in the summer. When Simon put a radiator up front in his Imp he did all the plumping copper and polished the pipes. Well smart - just like a gents loo's!!

I also fitted a roll cage, bucket seats and full harnesses.

Not a Imp story

I was always a sucker for cars that needed a lot of attention in those days, I moved onto Alfa Suds (bit of a pattern developing here). A friend of mine (Barry) had a small hole in his Suds petrol tank and one sunny day we took the Sud around to another friend (Jamie) hat had a barn fully equipped for car repairs. The plan was to try and fix the hole in the tank. First thing was to empty the small amount of petrol from the tank and Barry thought that it would easy just to let the petrol drain into the pit under the car. The tank was removed and a successful repair was made. Barry was tiding up and had bent down (wearing shorts as it was hot) and was about to lift his tool box into the back of the Alfa (still positioned above the pit). Jamie had moved on to another job down the end of the barn that required the use of a small angle grinder. Yes to have guessed it! A spark from the angle grinder shot down into the pit and ignited the petrol. There was a huge explosion and flames leapt up through the boards laying across the pit and burnt all the hairs on Barry's legs. You should of seen us all run for cover. We thought the whole barn was going to explode!!

All contributions to this page welcome!

I've always believed that three-wheeler drivers were a special breed. They certainly seem to have a good sense of fun, as these stories prove-

Phil :

On our '65 Regal we used to sit up inside the front wings, plenty of room if the car dropped off the stands. More worrying was when we could hear a horrible knocking noise after we had serviced the car and driven it a few miles - We (I) had forgot to fully tighten the wheel nuts after lower the car down !!! Bad enough on a 4 wheeler, but when all FOUR of the wheel nuts were hanging on by a "couple of threads" on a Pig it gets so much more 'exciting'.... When towing said 'Resin Rocket' once my Dad managed to wrap the tow chain around the front wheel which then started to act as a winding drum and pull him to the back of our Cortina at a rapid rate of knots on the Nottingham Ring Road!!! There was also the time when towing a scrap car to use for bits, my Mum pulled off from a set of traffic lights too quickly, jerked the chain and my Dad flew back into the seat in the Regal van which broke and he ended up trying to pull himself up from lying flat whilst trying to steer !!! - We were screaming to my Mum STOP STOP Dad's Got out !!!!

Tony:

........ more 3 wheelers. My wife ran a Bond 875 for a while. Now that's a real 3-wheeler. So light at the front I used to remove the wheel with the car on my shoulder (not with a full petrol tank). We parked it in very tight places occasionally by me lifting the front and wheeling it in like a barrow. It had an 875 Imp engine and could climb Shap (A6 northbound) at over 80. The steering was a bit quick - if you coughed it would go through the hedge. We sold it for spares in the end 'cos it went soft in the middle - all GRP, no chassis.

Matthew:

Ah, memories. My Dad replaced a Honda 90 with a Regal Saloon, "more comfortable on the M1 on wet morning" apparently. One morning whilst being driven to my Saturday job I learnt a great deal about car mechanics. About two miles from home the engine died and we coasted to a halt. Out jumped Dad with his armoury of spray cans, Hot Start, Cold Start, Damp Start all failed so he leaned into the engine bay and bellowed; "START YOU B******!". He leapt back into the driver's seat, turned the key and the engine burst back into life. "I'm not sure about this" said Dad, "I think we'll go home and get the car." So of we went for about about 50 yards and then the entire exhaust system fell off without warning! Lesson 1; If you need to take an aerosol to the air intake to start the car, then the car needs fixing. Lesson 2; Cars, like slothful, disobedient dogs, may appear to understand everything you say, but... Lesson 3: Don't shout at them, they'll get you back! Anyone else out there tried taking a 3-wheeler to there local exhaust centre... or for an MOT?

Peter:

my brother took his Robin for an MOT once at a garage that didn't normally do these cars... He said before the MOT that the car had one slight problem, that it was pulling to the right slightly to which the cocky young lad said it was his tracking... My brother chuckled that 'you have no idea what you are talking about' chuckle, and said it wasn't... However, this chap persisted and my brother then suggested that if he thought it was the tracking, that he fix it. Needless to say he was under the car for 20 minutes before he gave up and admitted defeat...

Keith: (this is an "enduring image" one, especially when you get to the truck bit)

After being knocked off my motorcycle by some myopic idiot I joined the community of bodywork protected transport by buying a three wheel Bond Minicar.   It was powered by a 250cc Villiers two-stroke engine ( I was familiar with servicing these - well changing the plugs and points).  The de-luxe model had a Siba Dynastart fitting on the end of the crankshaft that acted as a starter and dynamo (benefit - don't need to climb out of the passenger side (no drivers door), lift the bonnet and kickstart the engine after a stall ).  This model had the engine mounted on a central pillar that
allowed the whole engine & gearbox to rotate through 180 degrees.  This obviated the need for reverse gear so it could be driven on a motorcycle licence.

After a week-end servicing - cleaning up the plug and points, I set off for work.  As I pulled up at traffic lights I was a bit slow dipping the clutch. The engine slowed, coughed, banged and settled down to the two-stroke approximation of a tickover.  Lights change, select gear, let out clutch, REVERSE into Jaguar behind me! Bit of a shock for both of us. This is how I discovered two-stroke engines can run forward and backwards if you don't set the points correctly.

This car also had some strange handling characteristics.  With one wheel at the front and two at the rear, if you cornered too fast and lifted a rear wheel any curve you were following became a straight line into the closest hedge, wall or garden.  After a few excursions into the scenery I learnt to weight shift by hanging out of the drivers side apperture hanging onto the steering wheel or throwing myself over the passenger seat.  This worked for a while until I was nearly decapitated by a lorry on a tight righthand turn. The sudden weightshift back inside the bodywork caused another scenery excursion.  I sold it after this and have remained on four wheels ever since.   
  

Nick writes about his father's Bond:

For some years he made his way around his insurance agent collecting round aboard a US paratrooper motorcycle he nicknamed 'The Grasshopper' because it wasn't much bigger than the named insect and he travelled with his bum some six inches off the road and his head level with the door handle of any passing car.

Anyway, the English winters being what they were, he decided to upgrade to a three-wheeler, Bond Minicar Mark D, green in colour with a motor cycle engine and a lever in the middle of the floor attached to a metal cable.  Dad would switch on the ignition, then spend some five minutes hauling on this lever as he 'kickstarted' the engine with his left arm.  The musculature on this arm was impressive on a man with the already significant build of an enthusiastic gymnast and athlete.

So, winter came around again.  Dad was raising us on his own and we had to accompany him on his round seated in the two canvas sideways facing seats in the rear.  This vehicle was a convertible and, so as you can imagine was freezing cold as the winter winds forced their way through the canvas hood and plastic windows.  Never one to be beaten by simple practicalities, my father simply placed a small paraffin (kerosene) heater on the floor at the rear of the vehicle between my younger brother and myself.  We happily leaned forward warming our hands around the flickering blue flame with no thought to the consequences should the vehicle overturn on the ice-slicked roadways of the English West Midlands.

We survived, however, Dad died far too early and I often think back to the Bond three-wheeler and those winter nights......

From D Jump:

I too have tangled with Bond Minicars and now run a Scimitar. Actually, I still own three Bonds, one of which is on the road still. I have had many adventures having owned one since 1972 - one of the most memorable was in a 1956 mkC which I used to commute regularly between Exeter and Leicestershire. The trip took exactly 8 hours door to door if I didn't stop, though I used to yell at everyone for a week afterwards! On this occasion I was going down the old A38 near Cullompton in Devon at about 2 o clock in the morning when there was a loud bang and I lost all power. In eerie silence, I drifted into a fortunately placed layby and proceeded to crawl out through the one and only 'door' - a tiny hatch like opening on the passenger side. I started to open the two bonnet latches and just as I undid the last one, an AA patrol man whom I had not seen parked at the far end of the lay-by walked up.
I lifted the bonnet just as he began to say "What seems to be the....." and switched on his torch. We both found out soon enough as there was no engine there! The poor chap really thought he was on Candid camera! The engine is only held in with one bolt at the rear and a sprung loaded restraining bar at the top end on the early cars. My bolt had sheared and the engine ripped out the upper bar as it fell. We found the engine in a ditch 50yds back and together we put the car back on the road in about 45 minutes!!! The exhaust downpipe was severely mangled, but it got me the rest of the way!
I once picked up an old gentleman hitch-hiker on the return journey up-country who as I found out had two artificial legs, a legacy of the war. He had somewhat of a struggle getting in the mk C but succeeded and we drove on . he said very little until sometime later when he went "Eeh, 'eck! This brings back some memories...!"
"Oh? Did you have a Bond once ?" I asked .
"No" he said, "Its just that the last time I felt like this I was limping back over the channel in a shot up  Wellington bomber on one engine....!"

The Cavalier in the picture at the top of the page was mine. A core plug went on it. Unfortunately it was at the back of the engine. The gearbox had to be removed and the bill came to 37p (parts) and £100 labour.

Colin is the chap with the Lancia. His dad gave it to him when the rest of us were scraping cash together for dodgy MK IV Spitfires. The Lancia developed a fault with its oil warning light. "Just put more oil in when the light goes on," said the garage man. The same garage then charged Colin £30 to empty the sump when he followed their advice and ended up drastically over filling it. (Correct me if I've got the story wrong, Colin. That'll teach you to fish for a mention on my site.)

Imagine the scene (writes Dr Sandra Percy)- a hot summer's day (a rarity in Scotland!) - a handsome young man (one must embroider the truth a little) who is out to impress a pretty German girl who is staying with his parents. He decides to take her out to lunch. Not for them the rather conservative Volvo of his friend - he really is out to impress - he take her in his 1957 Berkley SE328. As it roars along the country road (remember it is a twin two stroke engine), her hair blowing in the breeze, he has a big smile on his face - she is impressed. Lunch goes well, we are about to leave. They settle into the car - he is six foot four in height! He turns the ignition key - nothing. He decides to show off his knowledge of his Laurie Bond designed car. He lifts the bonnet and pokes around. Smiling he turns the ignition key again - nothing. His smile begins to fade. The conservative Volvo comes into its own - in the boot there is a metal towrope (remember I am a typical female driver!). His face is now glum. The pretty German girl decides that perhaps the Volvo is more reliable. He sits in his Berkley as it is towed home. All the excuses under the sun are proffered. His father arrives - switching on the reserve tank would have been a good idea! Poor Alex - none of us will ever let him forget it!