So apparently the folk at the vehicle inspection garage have decided that the Austin FX4 Black Cab that is luxuriating in my garage is safe to drive on the road. Yippee!
I was a little terrified letting the young tester chap drive it 100 yards to the inspection bay. Partly because it terrified me to drive the car the first time, and I was once a full-time professional driver. Yes, it’s true, I used to deliver cars to auction for a used car dealership as a teen. And the ones that get wholesaled (why not wholesold?) are not the ones you want to drive. Unless you’re a teenager.
So, like a mum dropping off little Herbert at his first visit to daycare, I went through all the switches, dials, knobs and shift pattern, and sent him on his way.
The journey back with my new 2012 inspection sticker was jubilant, though I mourned the loss of the 1986 inspection sticker that was so mercilessly discarded.
Jubilant until I got to the hill start at the corner of Airport and E 38.5th Street. An upward incline I had never really noticed before. Alas, my clutch was on its last legs, and though I made it into the stream of oncoming traffic and away to my neighborhood, the clutch and I were no longer on speaking terms. I took the opportunity to make a short video, in case my London Black Cab doesn’t see the light of day for a while.
A few victory laps of the hood later, the clutch wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence when we were in the same elevator. This meant that the two foot ascent into my garage could only be accomplished by building up speed with a lap of my block first, eschewing the breaks as if I were a crazed juggernaut driver trying to squish a hysterical 1970’s lady in a station wagon.
So now the dilemma. Do I yank out the engine and replace the clutch myself, or do I get a mechanic to do it? A mechanic who at least knows where the clutch is, has all of the tools and doesn’t have another day job.
Or do I grit my teeth, take a few days off my so-called day job and splatter diesel and gunk all over my wife’s event-planning inventory in the garage of our urban neighborhood, cussing and skinning my knuckles in the name of learning the lost art of repairing cars that they don’t make any more, with methods that are no longer useful.
Or do I just put a few batteries in it and make it an electric minivan? Or just take a few more photos and sell it to someone else to figure out?