Adventures with Mr. Hogg Part II by Bob E.

       Gosh it's wonderful being a man!  Being able to throw caution to the wind and risk your life at any time for any frivolous reason certainly gives one a 'Joie de vivre'.  There I was, bent over a jack, under and behind a Lotus Europa in the process of being winched up a steep incline knowing that at any instant the hastily tied knot could come undone or the rusty support member to which the aforementioned  knot was tied to could snap and the Lotus would come screaming down the ramp, smash into me and carry my broken body into the back of the garage leaving me impaled on the wood stove that resided there.
       With his beloved E-Type languishing in the cold garage, Mr Hogg had finally found someone worthy to pass stewardship of his Lotus over to.  On a reasonably pleasant autumn day, I went over to help as he and Randy, the new owner, tried to figure out how to get the car into the (very tall) truck using the pair of (very short) ramps he'd brought. Being men we quickly entertained several possible methods and decided on a combination of the two best ones.  Being MATURE men (with a variety of scars, splints and bad memories to prove it) we stopped frequently to assess possible dangers and how to minimize the possibility of a disastrous (but spectacular!) accident.  The ramps had been lashed securely to the truck to allay the possibility of them slipping.  The (very strong) rope was tied (properly) to a couple of strong and sound (ie: NOT rusty) frame members and tire chocks where placed behind the wheels as the car was winched up the steep incline.   As the front wheels crested the bed of the truck it became apparent that the angle of the ramps allowed the underbody to catch on the edge of the truck bed.  We considered this for a few moments then decided to raise the rear of the ramps with jacks.  Two (not just one) ropes where attached between the front suspension and front of the truck's cab to prevent the car rolling backwards and killing us (see girls!, we're thinking).
      Robbie and I raised each side in turn (from outside the 'danger zone') only to be stymied by the fact that we where at the wrong end of the lever's fulcrum.  A large change at the rear of the ramp turned into a disappointingly small change at the spot where the body contacted the truck.  Several minutes of head scratching produced only one workable idea. Knowing that the Lotus is all lightweight fiberglass and aluminium (and not much of either), we gathered at the rear of the car, wrapped our arms under it and gave a collective manly heave and shove.....
      Oh shit!!! grab it!...it's rolling!

      Despite arthritic joints and bad backs, we'd tossed the dusty and primered Lotus like a toy into the truck only to discover that, now on a slight downwards incline in the back of the truck, it was rolling forwards.  Not wanting to watch the Lotus rip through the truck's cab and launch itself down the street unguided (as much fun as that would be), we flailed madly and grabbed suspension parts and body panels.  With the panic over, the Lotus was (very securely) tied down and boxes of spare parts stacked around it.
      Randy's wife had spent the hour inside with Nettie and we joined them, glowing with satisfaction at our triumph (the act...not the car).  Over tea and goodies, the rather vulgar subject of money was quickly dispensed with and we listened to Randy's stories of riding old British motorcycles through Europe. 
      With the Lotus in a new home, I suspect that the Jag will make it's way to the treasured spot and the restoration can begin.