VWPilgrim

First published 1st June 2023

Saturday morning I wrote up the blog for the week and decided to tackle the oil leak before the long trip up to Durham. Molly needs her oil change

d every 3,000 miles and was a job I’d planned to do before the trip even started, but problems with the door got in the way. Seeing where the oil was coming from made me think that the gasket had failed and would need replacing. A gasket is simply a piece of cardboard in the right shape, with the holes in the right place, that you often find inbetween two bits of the engine. A very cheap basic part, but absolutley essential. No problem, I’ve done this before but just to be safe I rewatched the tutorial video, checked in with John Muir and unearthed the spare gaskets I had stored away. What could go wrong?

Well, quite a bit it turns out!

I warmed Molly up, but didn’t need to use Spotify as Paul Gambacci was already playing songs from 1979 on his ‘Pick of the Pops program’ on radio 2. Perfect. After warming the engine to help the oil flow out easier I placed my very useful oil drain can underneath, released the stopper on the can, undid the central drain bolt and oil started to flow. It takes about the time to make and drink a cup of tea for most of the oil to run out into drain can.

Once the oil reduced to dripping I proceeded to remove the other bolts and nuts to replace the gasket. The first couple undid quite nicely. However the third nut fell and bounced onto the drain can, which I left in place just for this eventuality (smart)! But, when I looked it wasn’t in the tray, must have bounced out, so I looked for it on the floor, no joy. It is a bit of squeeze under Molly, and hard to find anything lying on your back, so I decided to push her forward so I could search the ground more easily. I took the handbrake off and pushed her a couple of feet so I could see.

I searched everywhere but couldn’t see the nut on the floor. I checked the drain can again and saw that I’d left the stopper out (not so smart). Is it possible that the nut rolled into the container that is now holding about 7 litres of used oil? I sat up noticing that when I had pushed Molly forward she rolled onto the CO-OP bag which contained my camping shoes! Now crushed. If Frank Spencer did vehicle maintenance…

After draining 6.7 litres of the oil into various receptacles I finally discovered the nut. Eventually I started to put things back together but the gaskets I had were too old and fell apart. Molly was not going to be fixed today. It was the bank holiday weekend and nowhere to get replacement gaskets the earliest they would arrive would be Wednesday.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-dorset-34934259

Fortunately, I am involved in a forum called ‘The Late Bay’, which is a great source of wisdom, humour and support for those with VW campervan’s like mine. So, on Sunday I asked for their help. They gave me good advice as to what to do – and more importantly what not to do. Although I did decide against a members suggestion of using one of Wesley pamphlets as a repalcement gasket! Another member actually had a set of gaskets that he was very willing to let me have. We met in the Waitrose carpark in Ely on Bank Holiday Monday evening and ‘Dubz’ kindly gave me a fresh set of gaskets. We all have nicknames on the forum, mine’s ‘Marzydj’.

I decided to wait until Tuesday to refit the new, far superior quality gaskets, but despite my best efforts I was unable to fix Molly, it was more than just a gasket. If I had more time and if I didn’t have the long drive up to Durham and with the forums help, maybe I could, but I decided to ring the garage to see if they could get my trip back on the road. They agreed to look at it as long as I could get Molly to them. That’s when I made the mistake of thinking, ‘oh it’s ok I’m with the RAC’!

I called the RAC but there was no way they could get me to the garage before it closed at 3pm. I would have to wait until Wednesday.

If I could get to the garage for 7am, was there a chance that I could be on my way today and make it to Durham by Friday? The saga began at 5am when I rang the RAC and was told I would be picked up at 8:52am, but then I got a number of text messages to the contray. To cut a very long story short, lots of calls later I got a call about 10:30am saying that a flatbed truck was arriving at my house, 69 Highworth Avenue, Rotherham at 12noon and would be taking me to Sheffield. The problem with that is I don’t live at number 69, or in Rotherham and only want to go 12 miles up the road. I would like to say that I remained calm, cool and collected at that point, I would like to say that, but obviously that wasn’t the case and I lost the plot!

Eventually, I was put through to the ‘Special Intervention team’ (which was what Mrs Vicarage was beginning to think I needed) and I spoke to the appropriately named advisor Geneva. Geneva eventualy brought an end to the conflict and we managed to arrange for a local company to come and pick me up.

In the midst of the all these fraught phone calls, our youngest daughter breezed in mentioned she was accompanying her friend to the piercing shop, and speedily exited, calling behind her “it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission…” Wait, What!?

The pickup driver was due at 11:30am but got waylaid by a car that had very impressively been wedged into a ditch by the side a fen road. We then swapped stories about one of my ‘guilty pleasure’ TV programs ‘Trucking Hell”. “Love it” he said, “What your job or the program?” I asked. “Both, every job is different, there’s often a puzzle to solve and everyone is pleased to see me when I arrive.” None more than me, buddy, none more than me. 1pm he took Molly off ito the garage, 8 hours after I first called RAC.

The garage, Type2Detectives, were amazing and squeezed me into a very busy workshop so that I could continue the pilgramage. In less than 3 hours they had Molly fixed and ready to be picked the following morning.  We’re back on the road again!

There was an inevitability that at some point we would need to find a garage.  Molly is 40 years old which means every now and then things break.   If Molly was going to breakdown this was the week to do it.  I was due to ‘attend’ the communion service on Friday in Durham, but they were the only Cathedral to refuse my request to preside. So, whilst they were reserving me a parking spot, it wasn’t essential I was there.  Despite this, it has felt a difficult and frustrating week, and at one point I wasn’t sure if we could continue.

Because I was home, I got to go to the Cambridge Blue pub and celebrate with a friend, Christian, rejoicing that the Church of England does get it right sometimes, as she has been recommended for training for the ministry.  As we talked about the eventful week I began to remember the good things that had also happened, but my frustration had got in the way of me noticing them. After Christian left I had another pint and waited for Mrs Vicarage to meet me, I wasn’t in a rush, started to write in my journal and felt relaxed for the first time this week.

Then I was approached by a tall young man, matching hoodie, joggers and cap. “Yo it’s David, David, how ya doin’ man?” “Erm, Hello, yes it is? ” I replied. “I knew it, knew it man, I said it was you! You came to my [Kings Hedges primary] school, back in the day. I was there, you brought the candles and things innit.”  Whilst trying not to feel terribly old we had a nice chat about what he’s up to now and he said that he was pleased to hear that we were ‘looking after the generations’, as he put it, still going into his old school and taking assemblies!  Finally, we fist pumped a goodbye and he was on his way.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Said the philosopher Ferris Bueller.

Now I’ve looked around, I’m grateful for the enforced pit stop.  Plans have changed, the trip has been adapted, but we’re on the road again.  Durham here we come.