Monday, 29 August 2011

Mike & the art of Kangoo maintenance

 Apart from enthusiasm, we didn't have too much in the way of qualifications to suggest it was wise to drive a quarter of the way 'round the world on our own.

My language skills extend, loosely, to English (although, unbeknownst to us prior to departure, J's Polish mother tongue helped us out of more than one tight spot); we were pretty much skint until a last ditch loan application came through; and we had the combined total of bugger all experience or knowledge when it came to vehicle repair (or even maintenance).

In the Railway pub in Tulse Hill a few months before departure, I witnessed a friend almost literally fall off his chair when I told him we were essentially just hoping for the best when it came to repairing the car. It didn't exactly increase my confidence that I wasn't plunging myself and my girlfriend into unknown peril, but I'd already rationalised the situation in my head - if only to stop myself panicking and calling the whole thing off.

My original plan had been to undertake some sort of car maintenance evening class at the local college. A bit of investigation indicated that it was far from cheap, and in the time I had available it was clear we wouldn't get much beyond being able to undertake pre-MOT checks. This left a whole world of potential issues which I still wouldn't know anything about, and I figured that the types of calamity which were likely to befall us in the middle of Mongolia would be unrelated to needing to change an indicator bulb. I was also clinging to a half-remembered quote from one of the conference calls with rally organisers, who were adamant that "every village once you leave the EU has a bloke who can fix any problem with a coat hanger and some twine". Nevertheless, I was worried at my complete lack of understanding of even the coarser workings of our Renault Kangoo.

This was where my sister's mate Mike attained legendary status. The pages of notes to the left are my desperate scribbles as Mike gave the van the once over and rolled out a stream of advice for life on the road. Not only is he a mechanic, if I remember correctly he'd taken supply trucks down to Bosnia in the 90s after the civil war, so had experience of overlanding in harsh conditions.

The advice was exactly what was needed - how to drive through water, how to stop the engine getting clogged up with dust, the button to press if the engine cuts out, the easiest way to repair a puncture, and - most importantly - he uttered the words "sump guard".

I'd never heard of a sump guard before. Mike explained it was to protect the oil sump underneath the engine: the precious reservoir of fluid which stops the engine grinding to a halt. A hole or leak in it, and our rally would pretty much definitely be over - especially if we didn't turn the engine off immediately.

It was the one must-spend expense, as far as Mike was concerned - nothing more than some metal bars underneath the front of the van was needed, with enough space to ensure the whole thing didn't heat up too much. But without it our rally could come to an abrupt end.

The other advice scrawled in my spidery handwriting implies that we were prepared for any eventuality:

  • Molegrips - for brake pipes - if one gets severed - look where fluid is leaking - crimp pipe over or put molegrips on to stop the flow
  • Duct tape - roll of
  • DIY Dental kit (we didn't take one - the idea was that if we got tooth ache out in the middle of nowhere, we could do running repairs or at the very least give it to a local dentist to ensure the kit was hygienic. We never tracked one down and thankfully were pain free for the duration).
  • 10w40 oil - 5 litres. This was the first time I knew there were different types of oil.
  • Cable ties. Always useful for running repairs.
  • Gear Box - JB2 - gear linkage - long rod - ask (the mechanic) to show where it is (when we have the van in for its pre-departure service) - can put it in gear manually from underneath (as with the brake pipe advice, the prospect of manually changing gear by crawling under the van in the middle of the steppe seems pretty hardcore, but I believed after speaking to Mike that I'd be able to do it if required. Needs must, and all that).
  • Take off stickers on door - Mike was concerned that, despite the engine being a 1.5, the model number on the Kangoo's door implied it should be a 1.7. Mike thought this might lead to problems crossing borders or handing over the vehicle at the end as it might look like the engine had been replaced. As far as I was concerned, the engine matched the V5 and that was good enough for me. The stickers stayed. No one noticed, although given they stop using the latin alphabet once you leave the EU, it's perhaps not surprising that the documents weren't scrutinised too much.
  • Tin of K Seal - £8. This was for fixing a leaking....
  • Head Gasket - (if we) start using a lot of water - put in (the K Seal) and top up with water - tick over.
  • Battery Pack - for jump starting (or jump leads) - electric cooker cable. I think the suggestion here is that cooker cable can act as a cheap alternative to jump leads if necessary. Living in London, I found it much easier to get jump leads rather than cooker cable.
  • Sump - put bits of tube across underneath the sump - steel sump guard on the subframe. Stop the oil sump getting damaged. Ah, the sump guard - such a nondescript collection of words when you see them written here, yet it was this that ultimately proved more key to our successful adventure than anything else I can think of.
  • Oako - half a bottle - garden centre - puncture repair stuff - foot pump. The other amazing revelation on that June afternoon was that a punctured tyre can be repaired by darning or by pouring liquid rubber into the tyre. I'd envisaged somehow cramming about 5 spare wheels into the back of the van in case of punctures - suddenly all that was needed was a darning kit and a bottle of Oako (we ended up with Holt's tyre weld instead). The tyre weld was always to be used as a last resort, as it is impossible to darn a tyre that has already been fixed with the rubber cement.
  • Sump guards - 1/4 inch pipes like a gate (Mike's idea was to have metal tubing forming a protective 'cage' under the engine)
  • Park Co - darner for tyres. Still don't know how to spell the name of the product that was discussed here. We ended up with an uber-darning kit from KP Autos, of whom more later.
  • Register with the British Embassy re: travel plans. Ah yes, the vaguely unsettling 'just so they know where you are in case a) it all kicks off and they need to evacuate you, or b) you go AWOL and they need to know where to start searching.
  • Back of seat tidies - these were suggested by my sister; her former career as Animal Warden for Cotswold District Council had made her something of an expert at ensuring everything useful was to hand in the cab of a small van.
  • Mini-hammock - another suggestion for storage, to hang behind the front seats.
  • Car boot organiser - again, useful for separating things out (as it turned out we just took massive cardboard boxes - one for food, one for camping gear, one for maintenance paraphernalia).
  • Cargo net / luggage net. Much the same as a hammock.
  • Driving in Dust - put foam or a pair of tights, or a dust mask, in the air intake - stop (the dust) clogging the air filter. We used foam - you detach the air hose where it enters the engine and shove it in. The foam tended to get shaken out after a while on the more bumpy roads, but it did the job pretty well.
  • Driving through water - take air intake off and put on top of engine - can go through up to indicators. As it transpired, the deepest water we went through was only up to the door sills so we never had to do it - but it's a ready made snorkel if you need one.


Thursday, 4 August 2011

Wednesday 07 Jul 2010 22:43
I thought the blog title was quite topical, both in terms of the recent hoax that has been doing the rounds and the - shall we say, "path" - that lies ahead.
I must admit that life would potentially be made easier in a flying DeLorean, but given the hassle we've had just trying to find cheap Jerry cans for spare diesel, the thought of running out of plutonium in the middle of Kazakhstan doesn't bear thinking about. Having also checked out a few pictures on Google Earth, finding a nearby bell tower is a remote possibility, never mind a bolt of lightning.
As for any potential problems with the flux capacitor.....well, whilst I have enduring faith in the power of the global village mechanic to fix just about anything (and have in fact built our entire rally maintenance strategy around it), I think even he might struggle to mend Mr Fusion with some baler twine and an old pushchair.
My point is - for all that an admittedly-cramped 1980s sports car might win on looks and aerial ability, we have supreme confidence in our small but mighty Genghis Van, who we picked up from the hospital earlier this evening.
Admittedly we had the same level of supreme confidence before he went in for a service, emerging four days later with £400 worth of repairs to his name (cam belt? brakes? who knew they needed replacing?), but now he's patched up and ready to rock even harder than before. We were talking to the mechanic about the trip and whilst we got the usual half-smile and raised eyebrows, he replied "it's a good van, it should get you there". Said mechanic is a Macedonian called Dragan; if he says so, I believe him.
Last day at work tomorrow and then we have a whole day to get the rest of the stuff we need, work out a plan for packing the van and actually doing so. No time for pimping our ride or even cleaning it, but we have a 'New car smell' Magic Tree that we firmly believe will right all wrongs. 
We also won't have time for organising some of the basics - like memory cards for the camera, music to listen to en route, or mastery of any Russian language whatsoever. It will be hectic, but why change the habit of the past 8 months? Time to put our faith in the Gods of fate and adventure.
I'll try to blog regularly from now on, and to those of you who have recently signed up as supporters - thank you, welcome and I promise my posts will in future be more about the rally, less about semi-obscure Back to the Future references.
Sunday 04 Jul 2010 22:03
We went on an almighty spending spree today, gathering up all the remaining equipment we think we might conceivably need over the next five weeks. Electric cool box, spare bulbs, spare fuses, tyre weld, rad weld, cable ties, a tyre pump, jerry cans, tow rope, mole grips, battery inverter, k seal, multi tool, trangia stove, the list goes on.
The best bit is, thanks to the power of mobile Internet, we got a lot of it whilst having a final pre-rally pint or two in our favourite local pub. Our stickers for the van should be done by Tuesday, our newly cam-belted van by tomorrow. We even spent 90 quid on pasta, tinned curry & couscous, which we plan to eat should the mutton stew get a bit "samey" on the road. We've not yet established if we can take food across international borders - if not we'll have rations for weeks to keep us going when we return, penniless, from the east.
Unexpectedly, I'm starting to feel prepared for this mission a full 5 days in advance! Depending, of course, on the power of the Royal Mail to deliver everything in time.....