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Towing farce

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First of all thanks to all those who offered there advice about towing, although it was not needed in the end (well at least not by me) as it was decided that my brother would do the towing instead.

After some ribbing about whether my venerable old 110 (1985 2.5NA) would last the distance or whether it would be wiser to get a Beavertail instead of a trailer, I was snubbed in favour of the 300TDi Disco. :angry: As it turned out I would have the last laugh. :hysterical:

Setting out early on Sunday the boys headed for Yeovil to pick up the car. Shortly after leaving home the Disco started to overheat, a quick top-up from a stream and they were once again on their way, problem solved or so they thought. <_<

As it turns out the water pump was goosed and before getting as far as Tiverton (about 8 AM) the Disco was on the verge of boiling over, having no choice they limped home.

Having only hired the trailer for the weekend and with me now back down down in Plymouth they had to swap to the 200TDi 110; only problem was the 200TDi had no insurance, having been taken off the road to replace the doors, bulkhead and weld up the rear crossmember. Luckily only the crossmember had been done but the 110 had had the tow hitch removed when the work on the rear crossmember was carried out; so while one brother sorted out the insurance and knocked up a new numberplate for the trailer, the other fannied around fitting and rewiring the hitch.

Having parked the Disco and trailer on a flat up the road from the garage (access to the garage is a bit of a mare with a trailer) they drove up to collect the trailer. Once hitched up they tested the lights to see if all was hunky-dory; sods law, all the electrics started to wig out. After beggering around with it for half an hour they had no choice but to drag the trailer back to the garage to test it. Eventually after much head scratching, cursing and tea drinking the problem was rectified and they were on there way again. :)

Nearing Tiverton again and with the first signs of impending darkness showing (now about 4:30) they switched on the lights..POP! the fuse went, out went the lights. :angry2: The one and only fuse they could find was rated twice what they needed, but it did the job anyway. Thankfully the fuse held out and more importantly the loom, for the rest of the journey to Yeovil.

Unfortunately the boys now had to load up and pop their towing cherry in complete darkness :unsure: but managed the return journy without any major dramas, except for a couple of close shaves on the back roads of north Devon.

The moral of the story?

The 7 P's

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