DUMBEST MOMENT IN A TVR
Discussion
nick heppinstall said: Spent all morning cleaning the car, polishing the wheels etc and it looked stunning .... Off I toodles for a quick test drive to make sure the cleaning had had the desired effect on performance that it always strangely does. Decide to pop into the local Spar which is next door to a pub. Pub has large carpark. Pub is FULL of teenage totty .... and I mean FULL !! So I decide to park in carpark. Just as I enter I blip the throttle for effect. Snap, crackle, pop goes the exhaust. All totty stop what they are doing and look in my direction. Another blip of throttle .... Throttle pedel suddenly dissapears.... What the !! Yup busted cable !! Just had enough momentum to get off the main road and block the pub entrance. Had to get a couple of blokes to help me push her the rest of the way. Not a word from said females until a group walked by about 45 minutes later while I was grovelling in the footwell. The smile said it all....
this is one of the reasons I don't do any cruises past the local meat market nightclub... I can just see my faithful chimaera deciding to go into a strop right by the entrance.
(ok one of the other reasons is that I'd rather not be seen any where near the meat market) A week or so ago, both of my parents had come up to visit for the weekend. Knowing (or imagining?) something of the beastly reputation of the Cerbera I recently acquired for extinguishing the lives of innocent young petrolheads, they had been nagging constantly to the effect that I'd better not drive any more than 30mph 
or it would surely spontaneously combust and make my wife a widow. To wit I had been constantly reassuring them of how careful I am, yeah right.
Taking them out for a spin at 10pm, just after they'd arrived, I was sure to drive in the "Parents Aboard" manner to reassure them that my life insurance was not imminently about to be cashed in. Nice clear night, a tiny bit damp, I was doing ever so well in the self-control department
. Until that roundabout.
Oh yes, that roundabout
.
Took the third exit. Slight bend - waited until it straightened out into nice, staight, safe dual carriageway. Second gear - give it a wee bit of boot. After all they've had a few miles in her by now. Surely they won't be scared of a wee bit of acceleration?
Unfortunately, the front and back ends chose not to accelerate in unison
and a momentary life-flashing-in-front-of-eyes was followed by some frantic thrashing of steering to recover massive fishtail and, strangely, an eery silence from all aboard 
.
Ah well - a valuable lesson for all concerned
.
Edited a couple of times cos its too late to be doing this.
>> Edited by Cerbnut on Tuesday 15th October 01:48
>> Edited by Cerbnut on Tuesday 15th October 01:50
or it would surely spontaneously combust and make my wife a widow. To wit I had been constantly reassuring them of how careful I am, yeah right. Taking them out for a spin at 10pm, just after they'd arrived, I was sure to drive in the "Parents Aboard" manner to reassure them that my life insurance was not imminently about to be cashed in. Nice clear night, a tiny bit damp, I was doing ever so well in the self-control department
. Until that roundabout. Oh yes, that roundabout
. Took the third exit. Slight bend - waited until it straightened out into nice, staight, safe dual carriageway. Second gear - give it a wee bit of boot. After all they've had a few miles in her by now. Surely they won't be scared of a wee bit of acceleration?
Unfortunately, the front and back ends chose not to accelerate in unison
and a momentary life-flashing-in-front-of-eyes was followed by some frantic thrashing of steering to recover massive fishtail and, strangely, an eery silence from all aboard . Ah well - a valuable lesson for all concerned
. Edited a couple of times cos its too late to be doing this.
>> Edited by Cerbnut on Tuesday 15th October 01:48
>> Edited by Cerbnut on Tuesday 15th October 01:50
Hey Cerbnut, nice one! Though sounds like you should enter this one for "best recovery in a TVR" rather than "dumbest moments". So what sort of silence did you enjoy on the journey home? The "OMG - we're all going to die!" silence, or the (Mum to Dad): "I told you we should have let him have that motor bike!" silence, or the (Dad to Mum): "I could have done that - I learnt car control in a capri with crossplies - now that was a real car" silence?
Hutch
Hutch
Working for a supercar club about eight years ago, I was dispatched to a garage somewhere to collect the Sagaris after a prolonged and expensive stay. Arrived, drank coffee then got called out to the car which they had very kindly started for me. Drove off and realised that the gits had left it with no fuel whatsoever. Found a petrol station, filled up, paid and then the car wouldn't let me in.
Yes, they'd very kindly started it for me because the battery was dead. So, on a forecourt in an unfamiliar car, with no clue how to get back in to it...and my phone on the passenger seat. Had to borrow a phone from a nice lady at the next pump, called work, got told where the jumping points were. The petrol station refused to sell me a jumping kit because they didn't fancy me blowing them up.
Went next door to a rough garage where I got laughed at, but to be fair, they provided a couple of trolley jacks and some muscle so we could drag the car away from the pumps and apply some power. Got in, got her started, gave them a tenner and headed off toward central London in a TVR that I knew was prone to stalling if you weren't careful, and I knew wouldn't start again if it did stall.
What had just happened was highly embarrassing, and what followed was highly stressful. The height of summer, rush hour, rubbish air con, unfamiliar city...very sweaty bloke getting lots of attention in flash car. I really didn't want to be there!
...but bought a Tamora last week.
Yes, they'd very kindly started it for me because the battery was dead. So, on a forecourt in an unfamiliar car, with no clue how to get back in to it...and my phone on the passenger seat. Had to borrow a phone from a nice lady at the next pump, called work, got told where the jumping points were. The petrol station refused to sell me a jumping kit because they didn't fancy me blowing them up.
Went next door to a rough garage where I got laughed at, but to be fair, they provided a couple of trolley jacks and some muscle so we could drag the car away from the pumps and apply some power. Got in, got her started, gave them a tenner and headed off toward central London in a TVR that I knew was prone to stalling if you weren't careful, and I knew wouldn't start again if it did stall.
What had just happened was highly embarrassing, and what followed was highly stressful. The height of summer, rush hour, rubbish air con, unfamiliar city...very sweaty bloke getting lots of attention in flash car. I really didn't want to be there!
...but bought a Tamora last week.
Danstable said:
Working for a supercar club about eight years ago, I was dispatched to a garage somewhere to collect the Sagaris after a prolonged and expensive stay. Arrived, drank coffee then got called out to the car which they had very kindly started for me. Drove off and realised that the gits had left it with no fuel whatsoever. Found a petrol station, filled up, paid and then the car wouldn't let me in.
Yes, they'd very kindly started it for me because the battery was dead. So, on a forecourt in an unfamiliar car, with no clue how to get back in to it...and my phone on the passenger seat. Had to borrow a phone from a nice lady at the next pump, called work, got told where the jumping points were. The petrol station refused to sell me a jumping kit because they didn't fancy me blowing them up.
Went next door to a rough garage where I got laughed at, but to be fair, they provided a couple of trolley jacks and some muscle so we could drag the car away from the pumps and apply some power. Got in, got her started, gave them a tenner and headed off toward central London in a TVR that I knew was prone to stalling if you weren't careful, and I knew wouldn't start again if it did stall.
What had just happened was highly embarrassing, and what followed was highly stressful. The height of summer, rush hour, rubbish air con, unfamiliar city...very sweaty bloke getting lots of attention in flash car. I really didn't want to be there!
...but bought a Tamora last week.
HOLY THREAD RESURRECTION!!!!!>>>>>>>Yes, they'd very kindly started it for me because the battery was dead. So, on a forecourt in an unfamiliar car, with no clue how to get back in to it...and my phone on the passenger seat. Had to borrow a phone from a nice lady at the next pump, called work, got told where the jumping points were. The petrol station refused to sell me a jumping kit because they didn't fancy me blowing them up.
Went next door to a rough garage where I got laughed at, but to be fair, they provided a couple of trolley jacks and some muscle so we could drag the car away from the pumps and apply some power. Got in, got her started, gave them a tenner and headed off toward central London in a TVR that I knew was prone to stalling if you weren't careful, and I knew wouldn't start again if it did stall.
What had just happened was highly embarrassing, and what followed was highly stressful. The height of summer, rush hour, rubbish air con, unfamiliar city...very sweaty bloke getting lots of attention in flash car. I really didn't want to be there!
...but bought a Tamora last week.
13 yrs!!! is this a record??? Must be close.
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