Occasions that will drag me from my lair in North Wales are rare, but the Golden Rover event in conjunction with the Epping Ongar Railway at North Weald proved irresistible, and an opportunity to deliver an order for door-nosing rubber which is simply too long and heavy for affordable carriage. Tuppy the Clio, my only viable set of wheels at the time, therefore set off for southern latitudes and earned her spurs in combat with the Mongol horde of South Mimms and the M25. First, a visit to another pair of classics for the first time: MB641 and MBA588 and a reunion with Keith from Hitchin, and then preparation for the Golden Rover classic bus event before an 'eve of battle' meal with a number of the team.

Tree-lopping service vehicle 971J (STL1470) Photo © J.Wilkins

An immaculate RF stands by the Garnon Bushes public house at Coopersale. This was a terminal point for journeys from Harlow or Epping. Photo © J.Wilkins

The first ride of the next day was on 971J, a bus that was twenty years old when I was born, and already converted to a service vehicle. I was persuaded to have a brief turn at the wheel on the strength of quite possibly never having another chance in my lifetime to drive an STL. The engine side-cover was removed because the only way of stopping the engine was to interrupt the fuel supply temporarily. What it proved was that any fool, even an old one, can make an even older bus move, so all credit to the designers! The rest of the day was spent in piloting any drivers unfamiliar with the 381 route around the bucolic Essex countryside aboard a splendidly turned-out RF, and even doing a spot of map-reading to pilot a trip on the 347A to Abbess Roding. In between trips it was simply wonderful to be surrounded by utterly gorgeous buses and coaches doing their thing, with examples of GS, STL, RF, RT, RMC, RML, RP, SM and SMA. After the close of service, representative vehicles of appropriate age went down to Epping and assembled in the car park of Tesco, which of course was where the running shed of the old EP garage was located. The modern store occupies the site of the Epping Service Station, a car showroom and workshop with a colonnaded petrol forecourt. Truly, a magnificent sight and a great credit to the store manager for allowing the use of the car park. I am pretty sure there were a large number of very bewildered Epping folk (and certainly some without any sense of humour), but as the shop was closed, there was no reason for anybody to contest legitimately the use of the space! Such brief encounters are a very valuable tonic to counteract the fatigue of working alone at SM106, and a fabulous opportunity to learn from those whose working lives may have been spent in the company of such vehicles, so I thank them for their patience. By the time I arrived home, I was very happy to climb out of Tuppy's cab and take a cup of tea before cold-turkey set in.

A week passed after the Epping trip while the domestic service fleet was attended to. My beloved Espace was weighed in at our local scrapyard following her last haulage duty and a farewell picnic with our grandchildren, for whom a 'car picnic' has been considered a treat since they were tiny. The replacement vehicle is a Peugeot Rifter, ending a 100% Renault fleet tradition since 1986, but still a manual diesel (Euro 6). Eventually the cars and family calmed down to an extent that permitted a visit to SM106, but I was concerned that things might be spinning out of control with a duff starter motor etc. First game was to check the start solenoid because that's where the impulse begins, and clicking does not necessarily mean electrical contact. A bulb was wired in place of the starter and the black button was depressed, but from the cab I could not see well and it wasn't a powerful bulb. Oddly, I still think that it did not illuminate at first, but certainly did illuminate reliably after a few more presses. I think I observed the same behaviour when I first fitted the batteries for the current (excuse inadvertent pun here) campaign. Unfortunately my electrical supplier did not have a 24V solenoid, or I would have put it in straight away! Then the starter motor was opened and nothing awful could be detected, and my meter said the contacter coil was OK. So, I decided to bolt it back on, which wasn't too arduous apart from the sheer weight of the beast, and wire it up. I just leaned over the steering wheel and pressed the button briefly with little hope of success, but was shocked to hear the motor whirr into life and the engine started, without so much as a foot on the pedal and being a cold start after a week of standing! It was shut down pronto once I had checked for gross fuel leaks, but finding nothing major, just niggly dribbles. After a celebratory cup of coffee and a whip round with a spanner, I tried again and wound her up a bit; smokey but not horrendous, and generally much better than before the injector servicing. Then I saw the stream of oil spurting from the hydraulic pump where the clamp bolt was missing! It definitely should not do that, because that is exactly how I found SMS637's pump. I'd had enough by then, so had lunch and cut grass and pruned my apple trees instead. While working at that I pondered the findings of the day, because the whole episode of the hydraulic pump started with a tendency to leak oil when the engine was run. I have at least confirmed what I suspected, that it is SUMP oil that leaks, because no hydraulic pipes are connected, so is this a vertical vs. horizontal engine issue? Either way, you will read about it here.......

It was also kind of my Hitchin benefactor to hand over at the Epping bash a spare hydraulic pump from a scrapped MB for examination and potential use. It turns out that the mounting of the pump on the bigger engine is quite different, but easier in certain respects as the pump body disengages from the driven pinion gear with a splined drive. That made it ideal to mount on SM106 without any further attention apart from cleaning, and only the integrity of the seals was important as the pump itself would not turn when the engine was running. Sadly, the leakage of sump oil continued, even though the register disc (now returned safely after being 'lost' with the driven gear by the contractors) was properly engaged with the mounting plate. This time I removed the gasket as well as the pump for investigation, and found that one of the mounting studs had a washer on it that would prevent the pump from sitting flat on the mounting plate! It was soon removed and the leakage of sump oil was stopped. Not the leakage of fuel oil, however, so I had a look at the spare engine from SMS637 which has plastic pipes on the leak-off gallery and shorter banjo bolts to clamp onto the injector body. While fiddling, I discovered that the banjo bolts could bottom in the injector body if copper washers of appropriate thickness were not applied correctly, and that would apply to 106's engine also. A trap for the ignorant and unwary....I confess to both, so it's time for a cup of coffee and pulling out all the manuals I can find. I also discovered that removing a fuel lift pump from the injection pump drive while installed on an in-situ engine is somewhere between difficult and impossible, so that is going to be another nightmare to face - tempered by the availability of a new, compatible pump to make it worth attempting. While I was locking-up, Mike the Mechanic drove in with SMS637's hydraulic pump, and tie-wrapped to it was the pinion that he had succeeded in pulling off its taper. That was a great moment, and I offered him a little something for his trouble. "No, thanks", he said, "it was only a 2 minute job". It just goes to show that amateur fiddling is no match for equipment and experience, so he was thanked effusively.

Copper washers, with correct ones at bottom left. Photo © J.Wilkins

An awesome drift of filth in the air-inlet manifold. Unsure what it comprises, probably road-dirt and macerated leaves. Photo © J.Wilkins

Back at the bus it took just moments as I unloaded my gear from the Peugeot to realise that I had left the hydraulic pump with its loose pinion in the back of my Clio, but concluded that there was plenty to be getting on with before re-fitting became a matter of urgency. First was to clear up some of the spilled oil, which has built up over time and mostly collected in tins and pots which were emptied quickly into my new waste oil repository, actually an empty 25 litre oil can, proudly emblazoned Rimula X30 which we used in our boat's Lister engine. The oil depot in Llandudno where we used to buy it is now the outstation for Arriva buses following the closure of Imperial Buildings at the Junction! Then it was dismantling the leak-off gallery of both engines, to recover and measure all the parts. It was soon apparent where the problematic leaks emerged. Original AEC copper washers were half-inch diameter and 40 thou thick, while replacement ones were thinner and smaller, critically also smaller in the bore which prevents them from seating properly, and worse in a couple of cases, had jammed on the threads of the banjo bolts, preventing proper tightening. I also fear for the threads on one of the banjo bolts. Where and whether a supply of appropriately sized washers can be sourced remains to be seen. During this exercise, I realised why the fuel lift-pump on SM106 is so awkward - it's because the compressor and the associated coupling are rotated relative to a horizontal engine, and thus lying in an orientation which makes it inaccessible. After lunch I kept up the impetus in the general area by removing the air-inlet manifold, which I had often observed to be exceedingly grubby and not good news for the longer term. Easily unbolted with its outlet to the compressor still connected (I didn't want to crack the casting attempting an unnecessary removal). The contents were an absolute horror-show. However, it provided an hour's entertainment emptying and cleaning so that we can be proud of it when it goes back on with a full set of bolts. I suppose there is no surprise that the pile of rubbish was at the back end, presumably because air-flow is slower there, but does that mean that similar junk was simply swallowed by the forward half of the engine? At home in the evening I found a promising and affordable source of appropriate copper washers, which were ordered.

SMS637's hydraulic pump is transplanted properly at last. Photo © J.Wilkins

The underside of the cylinder heads cleaned off ready for the manifold. Photo © J.Wilkins

The next session was all about progress, and first up was removing the temporary MB hydraulic pump. This time the gasket and seals had done their jobs, so a large mug-full of sump oil was dumped, mostly into the can for catching drips, but the contents of the back of the pump went on the lino installed to catch the stuff. Clearly, when a vertical engine is laid down, the pump gearing is at the bottom of the engine and not at the side and cannot drain as it should. The engine manual, which has pictures and plans of the horizontal version doesn't concern itself with trivia like a hydraulic pump! Anyway, there was no point crying over spilt oil, so the MB pump was re-integrated to go into storage, and attention paid to attaching the register-disc and drive pinion to SMS637's pump. Fitting it to the engine was a bit complicated because the gears would not mesh, and the engine had to be rotated by hand to find a sweet spot. It has been a real labour, but all the effort of pulling off the pinion was only ever about fitting the register-disc so that the pump was installed properly. Thereafter the session was spent cleaning up the engine beneath and behind the cylinder heads, because a) it was filthy and b) a new gasket will be needed, and silicone will do better where it can adhere. It looked quite pretty when I'd finishes, and the hydraulic pipes which run nearby were also cleaned of all their adherent, oily filth. Finally some magnolia paint was applied to some loose parts from the front destination blind header ready for installation.