So I was just driving along, minding my own business. We were running to the post office to fetch our mail from our PO Box. And right there across the street from the post office I see a really spiffy Triumph TR6 (Translation: for those of you that dont know, a Triumph is a car maker, not just a seventies rock band and motorcycle manufacturer). I pointed and turned to Ellie Mae and said "gah-gah-gah". (Look dear, there is a fine specimen.) You see, you just don't see Triumphs around here much.... And then I saw another, and a Spitfire. And a TR3. And a Stag. (Yes, Triumph made more than a TR7 wedge.)
In my effort to try to be less of a hermit and actually meet people that live nearby (big move for me), I actually went into the restaurant, found a big table of people that looked triumphy (I don't care if it isnt in your dictionary, it is in mine) and asked what the heck was going on. I was hoping there was a local Triumph club... and there is not. I did, however, find out there was a regional Triumph meetup right here in the middle of nowhere!
So I went home (metal shack in the woods) and washed (scraped 3 years of dirt off) my little Triumph (rust bucket). What followed were 3 days of putting around in my little car (sore ass).
Photographic evidence can be found on picasa. I tried to obscure all the plates for the truly paranoids out there... but if you told your wife you were on a business trip and went off for a weekend with the mistress -- well sorry about that.
The fallout: estimated 150 miles on the old car (estimated because the odometer ceased working in 1984); found oozing slave cylinder (its not a leak, its an ooze); snapped tachometer cable (original to the car I would guess. Broken by what I am guessing is a careless mechanic [me] 23 years ago that might have put the distributor drive gear 25 degrees off of correct.).
Just in case you cannot read that last line... I think it says "First Place". If you dont know what a Funkana is, imagine drunken bar games.... except in a car.
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