Larry and Sandi's Triumph TR3A Pickup

(Click on any photo for a larger view)

     Following Bob’s request, here is an account of our, fortunately, fairly uneventful trip home from Ipswich MA with our TR3A.  (We’re debating about whether to call it our new toy or our new baby.)  As an old Boy Scout I internalized the Scout motto “Be Prepared” in preparation for our trip.  Consequently I put together a tool kit, trying to anticipate any problems that could occur that I actually might be able to fix.  I packed my tools in the tool box that I got when I had the first new car I ever bought, a  1970 VW  van.  Back then, I always carried with me the book “How to Keep Your VW alive:  A Step by Step Manual for the Complete Idiot”, which was fitting for me with my limited mechanical prowess.   For this trip I had a TR3 service manual.  I also packed the Craftsman open end wrenches and ratchet and socket set that I bought when I was 16 when I purchased my first car, a 1957 Morris Minor.  Just for nostalgia, I threw in a tool which came with the tool kit in my father’s TR2, a  ”combination tool (screwdriver, tommy bar and nave plate remover)”.  Not sure what a nave plate remover is.  I also packed other assorted tools, WD40, wire, tubing, a fire extinguisher, etc. etc. (see photo).    For me, the mental preparation was way more challenging than gathering together a few tools.  The part of my brain responsible for anxiety tried to go into overdrive.  I worried about driving a car for over 400 miles that I had no experience with.  I worried about driving on the interstate, particularly merging with traffic using the rudimentary mirrors on the car.  I worried about being run over by a transport truck who would only feel a small bump and probably not even notice that I was squished.  I worried about the weather.  I had no end of worries.

     Sandi and I drove down together and the plan was that she would follow me back.  Our intent was that we would never lose sight of each other.  Our back up plan was to stay in contact with the walkie talkies that we carried.  The back-up, back-up plan was that we would meet at a predetermined spot if we lost each other.  The back-up, back-up, back-up plan was that we each had a cell phone so we could call each other.   As it turned out, we didn’t need any of our back-up plans.  We picked the car up around 8:30 EST from the extremely helpful guy who brokered the deal, Tom.  Tom is an old (or should I say long-time since he was younger than we are) car guy himself, so we got along fine.  
     In order to get used to the car before we tackled I95, we drove along Route 1 as far as Portsmouth, NH.  Then I took a deep breath and got onto the freeway.  It wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated and traffic was, relatively speaking, fairly light.  The car seemed to be comfortable cruising along at about 3500 rpm.  Because the speedometer needle constantly bounced around, a common condition I understand, I couldn’t tell how fast we were going, but Sandi said it was 90-95 kmh.  BTW, Sandi in the escort car, a Subaru Legacy, but not our GT, achieved fantastic fuel economy 6.0 l/100km, or 47 Imp. MPG. 
     We had originally intended to break the trip down into two days, to not tax the car too much.  (Who am I trying to kid, it was all because I didn’t know if I had the stamina to make the trip all in one day).  However, we checked the weather forecast which suggested rain for today, so we decided to try to make it home in one day.  I had previously told Sandi that I didn’t want to turn on the lights, as I didn’t want to first test them many kms from home.  However, by 8:00 last night, I didn’t have much choice so I gritted my teeth and pulled the switch.  Fortunately, bad nothing happened, no sparks, no smoke.  As it got darker, I was reacquainted with sealed beam headlights.  I had forgotten how much better modern lights are.   Nevertheless, we soldiered on and by a little after 9:00 we made it home after about 11 hours on the road.  Did I really drive 1000 miles in one stretch in my early 20s?  Obviously that will never happen again.  So now the car is tucked into its new home, none the worse for the wear, except for a few bug splatters.  I’m tired, sore, and sun burned, but really happy!  End of story.
- Larry H.