* Read with a cockney accent for full effect
Intending to dive the Imperial on Sunday I backed it out of the garage and
washed it. I cannot remember the last time I washed it, so it was kind of
nice to reacquaint my knuckles with all its nooks, crannies and crevices.
Things got a little hectic and I ended up not using it and it stayed on my
short but steep driveway until around 10:00 PM. Oh, you can only imagine my
joy when I restarted it to move it back into the garage to find I had no
brakes. I did when I left the garage, which is level, of course.
The friend who helped with the brakes last year, of whom some of you do not
have the highest opinion, and I had discussed the still less than acceptable
braking I was getting from the car. I have only tried to bleed and adjust
the brakes once since last year. No air was found, but a one or two shoes
needed to be adjusted, now the new shoes had seated. We concluded there was
indeed still air in the line and that what we would have to do is jack up
the rear end for a few days and let the bubbles rise through the fluid of
their own accord so we could try to expel them once and for all. Yesterdays
impromptu experiment hopefully indicates that the idea just might work. So,
when rain has moved out of the forecast, and both Mark and I can find some
time in our crowded schedules, I will park it outside, nose down, and see if
the trapped air cannot be coaxed out of the system.
If we should fail I do not know what to do next. Since two professional
shops and countless hours of amateur labor have not managed to resolve the
cars poor brakes, I am left with a rather obvious but unpalatable
alternative.
Hugh
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