An epic car thing happened this summer - my buddy Mickey offered up his father’s 1969 Triumph TR6 as a sort of loaner for wrenching. You see, I’ve been on the lookout for something old, something mechanical, something right out of Julia James Davis’ Analog Resistance. She points out that old cars are low-tech, better looking, and fixable by shade-tree mechanics such as myself. Couldn’t agree more, Julia. Which is how this gorgeous TR6 ended up in my garage.
Part of this adventure was to satisfy my need to hold a wrench and work on mechanical stuff. The other was to show my kids some of the basics. Oil changes, setting the points, trying to go for a drive without checking that the brakes work. I’m kidding. Well, not about a test drive with useless brakes. That happened. But not with the kids. Do as I say, not as I do, and all that.
My eldest daughter is on the cusp of obtaining her driver’s license, with the twins hot on her heels. So no time like the present. Milan and I have already had a bit of fun sorting through the things a car like this accumulates. Mickey’s dad bought this car in 1980, I believe, so the stuff…it accumulates. We made a wee YouTube clip out of it. Laughing ensued.
With that sorted, our next step was to address, well, the lack of spark. Sort of a key aspect of starting the car and the main reason behind the story - the Triumph hasn’t started in years. Digging into the ignition system, I discovered things. Like a badly damaged distributor cap, roasted points, and some unusual wiring. With my inline spark tester and Haynes manual in hand, the problems were addressed, and the spark was returned!
Fun fact: The order in which you stack the leads for the ignition coil and condenser on the breaker plate post matters in a 1969 Triumph TR6. I started with it backwards. No spark. After much swearing and reading, I realized my error, remedied it, and here we are.
Around this time, Mickey stopped by, and we discussed work thus far. Which led to the obvious question, “What’s next?” There are certainly many things that need addressing to get things running smoothly, like, oh, the fuel system. But in the interest of not overcomplicating it, he and I agreed that pouring a bit of fresh gasoline in the tank was at least worth a shot.
It’s a good thing Mickey was there because I absolutely would not have gotten the Triumph started. It’s got a manual choke! One that is barren of logos or graphics to explain its purpose. He got in the driver’s seat, did some two-handed wizardry with the choke and the key, pumped the gas…many times…and after a faint cough, that 57-year-old straight-6 thundered to life.
It’s probably for the best that I only caught part of the ensuing excitement on film. As my wife informed me, the whole neighborhood likely heard us. What with the spectacular aural symphony of the Triumph’s screaming engine and the fabulous tapestry of enthusiastic obscenities Mickey and I unleashed at the same time. What a sound!
We then attempted to go for a spin. Only to discover on my driveway - that slopes down to a busy road - a complete lack of brakes. Like, pedal-to-the-floor kind of lack. Mercifully, the e-brake gently grabbed and prevented something unfortunate. Mickey popped it in reverse, we put the old British beauty back in its bay, and changed our respective underpants.
So, it appears we will be learning about old British roadster brakes next. I’m all for it. In the name of the Analog Resistance, I happily submit myself to tasting gasoline in the air, deafening the neighborhood, and having a whole lot of fun in the process.
About the author: Niel Stender is an automotive journalist. See more of his work on MuckRack.
I am so jealous. I need a project like this right now. Great article.