Re: Illicit Pleasures.

["Mark Revels" <thoimre@ibm.net>]

Amen... Almost as good as being there.

I've had the same problem on hard cornering or stopping, especially when
I've neglected the kitty's oil level checks for a while.

I've seen oil back-up cylinders advertised that keep a reserve slug of oil
ready in the event pressure drops out. Don't know if they work.

Mark Revels
85 XJ6

----------
> From: Lawrence Buja <southern@ox.cgd.ucar.EDU>
> To: Jaguar Mailing list <jag-lovers@sn.no>
> Cc: british-cars <british-cars@autox.team.net>
> Subject: Illicit Pleasures.
> Date: Thursday, February 06, 1997 3:30 PM
> 
> 
>                  Illicit Pleasures   (Feb '97)
> 
> Monday was another late night down at the new shop, home of the Mighty
> Roar Racing Team.  As has been the case recently, tonights's work has
> more to do with equipping the new race shop than working on the Jaguar
> race cars.  The evening's task is to retrieve a huge hot water heater
> from an industrial building to use as a heat storage unit for the shop's
> solar panels.  It's cold and dark by the time Grossman and I arrive on
> the site.  Fortunately, the unit has already been disconnected and is
> sitting on a pallet.  The water tank is big, really big, tall and
> unstable on it's wooden pallet.  One of the shop guys starts up the
> forklift and we slowly walk it out to the pickup truck.  The forklift
> operator deftly fits the pallet in the bed and uses the forks to push it
> all the way on.  I have no idea how we are going to get this monster
> back off the truck.  We look around for the cable come-alongs to secure
> it and, naturally, they're in the other truck.  This is not going well.
> We toss the tire-chains over the big tank and secure them as tight as
> possible, but neither of us like the looks of it.  With nothing else at
> hand, it's the best we can do.  We start slowly for home, the huge
> upright tank wobbling drunkenly in the back as we go over bumps.
> Disaster nearly strikes when we cross an uneven set of RR tracks; the
> metal tank lurches wildly from side to side, one foot busting through
> the pallet and nearly tips over into the oncoming traffic.  This is
> really stupid, we're going to kill someone.
> 
> Grossman pulls over and we get in back, walk the tank back onto the
> pallet and secure the chains again.  I bite the bullet and tell him that
> I'll ride in back and hold the tank to try to damp out the oscillations.
> It's really cold now, but I've got on my heavy-duty insulated oil-field
> work coveralls with some good gloves.  Too bad I forgot my arctic hat.
> We start down the road, Grossman up front and the wind whistling by
> Lawrence, the human shock absorber, bracing the tank in back with his
> head ducked out of the wind.  This works, though it must have looked
> funny to the other traffic.  The tank wobbles around some, but never
> gets out of control and we make it back to the shop without incident.
> Unloading was not the reverse of loading.  In the dark, we wrassled
> around with it upright awhile before giving up and just tipping it over
> on it's side and sliding it off the back of the truck.
> 
> Tonights work doesn't have much to do with building Jaguar race cars,
> this is the fussy maintenance stuff which you have to go through to make
> all the fun stuff possible.  Next winter I'm know that we'll glad we did
> this, but right now we're just cold, tired and sore.  Sometimes I wonder
> why we do it, but that's just petty self-indulgence, I really know why
> we do it.  It's working on cool projects with good friends.  Nothing
> beats that, no matter how bad the job.
> 
> As we lock up the shop and walk through the dark meadow back to
> Grossman's house, I look around.  The sky is crystal clear and the stars
> shine bright tonight.  Ursa Major stands vertical in the northeast, the
> Pleiades twinkle overhead and Orion's moved into the western half of the
> sky, a sure sign that spring isn't far away.  This is good.  On the
> fence line, our future projects wait patiently for us to finish
> outfitting the new shop.  A couple of MkII's hulks rest quietly in the
> darkness under the trees, next to the bad-ass XJ12 Coupe and a big MkX
> cruiser.  It promises to be a fun summer.
> 
> Soon I've tossed my coveralls in the boot of the Daimler and rig the
> foglights for high-speed driving.  The XJ6 has been running very nicely
> lately and I'm looking forward to the 20 mile run back to my home.  In a
> couple minutes I clear the last of the farmhouses and break out into
> wide open country.  I just can't help myself.  The country road is
> deserted at this hour and the Jag wants to run free.  I'm soon on the
> undulating road which my little boy calls the "airplane road".  The
> first steep hill drops away beneath me, disappearing down out of sight
> in front of me like a roller-coaster ride.  I swoop down and the fun
> begins, up and down, up and down for miles.  The line of sight is
> limited so the speeds stay reasonable.  But, out in the middle of
> nowhere, this road T's onto another deserted country highway of a
> completely different character, a beautiful wide surface with long
> straightaways and gentle banked sweepers.  Here the heavy Jag is in it's
> element.  We accelerate faster and faster, the engine singing it's
> wonderful song and XJ6 cruising rock steady as the tach climbs and the
> dark mass of the mountains come closer and closer.  Finally I chicken
> out and come off the throttle.  I'm overdriving my lights and busting
> through an antelope at this speed would really ruin my day.  It's almost
> dream-like moving this fast at night, the Jaguar coasting quietly, with
> little indication of the speed except the blur of the roadside grass
> rushing by.  Life is good and the tunes are great, I relax back and soak
> it up while it lasts.  The rapture of pure speed can be intoxicating.
> All too soon I crest the slight rise near the end of the road and it's
> time to start thinking again.
> 
> I'm still carrying alot of speed as I approach the last T onto the main
> highway.  While driving race cars has taught me alot about going fast,
> it's taught me even more about slowing down.  I set up the turn onto the
> onramp still moving fast.  I brake hard, then harder, nearing the
> adheasion limits, then transition smoothly to a controlled 4 wheel drift
> accelerating up the onramp without losing much speed, the Jag handling
> the side forces with aplumb.  Damn this car is nice...Oh, Shit!!!  The
> oil light comes on and stays on.  Either the oil pump's broken or it's
> sucking air.  I get off the throttle, straighten out and coast, ready to
> shut it down if the oil pressure gauge drops to zero.  It wavers around
> near zero, then starts to climb back to normal and the oil light goes
> off.  It looks like I've dodged a bullet.  I guess I need to either
> install some sump baffles or begin exercising some self control when
> driving on deserted back roads late at night.  Hummmm, this is a
> nobrainer...Where do you buy baffles?
> 
> I baby the engine over the last hill and coast down into Boulder,
> listening for any expensive sounds.  But, as usual, everything's OK.
> The Daimler purrs into our quiet neighborhood and gets tucked into bed.  
> It was just another late night at the shop and all is well in the world.
> 
> /\      Lawrence Buja           http://www.cgd.ucar.edu/cms/southern
>   \_][  southern@ncar.ucar.edu  National Center for Atmospheric Research
>       \_________________________Boulder,_Colorado___80307-3000__________

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