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.

Wednesday 07 Jul 2010 22:43

"Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...

by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

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...

via SMS by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

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.....

The pre-trip shop

We were stupidly, horrendously over-prepared. You don't need this much food. In fact, I'd suggest you don't need any (although I accept a couple of cans in case of emergency is never a bad shout). Amazingly, all countries east of Blighty have shops, and those shops by-and-large have well-stocked shelves, selling pretty much the same basics that we're used to over here. Pasta, sausage, biscuits, bread, cheese, beer - all your standards are at your beck and call. There is absolutely no need to take £90-worth of provisions with you, unless you want to end up delivering some of Mr Heinz's finest to somewhat bemused charity workers in Ulaanbaatar.

Admittedly, looking at it now, there were some educated guesses in there at what might come in handy. The Berocca certainly did, but the Pro Plus didn't. Of course we felt bloody knackered, but relied instead on caffeine based energy drinks like Red Bull, due in part to the added refreshment of a cold fizzy drink in the oppressive heat. Likewise, the Eye Wash seemed genius for getting all that sand and dust out of our eyes - but as it turned out, we never needed it as our sunglasses bore the brunt of the abuse.

Saturday 03 Jul 2010 23:03

Duh duh duh duhhhh! Duh duh duh duh...

by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

The blog title is a vague reference to hair-rock classic "the Final Countdown" by Europe. Yup, a week from now we should be fitfully snoozing in our pop up tent somewhere in Belgium, a day into the adventure. Really mental that it's almost launch. I'm typing this standing at the bus stop in East Dulwich, listening to some posh kids talk about Russell Brand. It's hard to fathom that this epic trip we've endlessly planned, stressed and talked about for almost a year is actually happening. We don't do stuff like this. I've been waiting to get busted for being a fraud since we began. But here we are. Just said my farewells to a couple of mates with the statement "see you on the other side". That's honestly what it feels like - a step into the unknown. Our mighty van is in the garage getting a new cam belt and water filter fitted to ensure we don't break down before Dover. We got a few essentials for camping today and are on car detail tomorrow, but for the first time in months I'm calm and positive about the road ahead. We're actually doing this. It's going to be amazing.

By rights, we should have been organised enough to make it to my friend Sandra's wedding on the 3rd of July, but it became apparent by around March that it wasn't really going to be an option. As it was, the Saturday was spent running around buying even more basics for the road ahead - food, more camping gear, other bits and pieces on our checklist, whilst on the Sunday I became rooted in Halfords as I stocked up on spare bulbs, fuses, tyreweld, k-seal, radweld - you name it, if it was possible to spring a leak or crack on a vehicle, I had some sort of gunk to squirt into it.

The weekend also saw the first of my proper 'bon voyage' pints, with a couple of old mates, Murray & Ally. It's around at this point, a mere week before we left, that it sank in that it was definitely happening and that, what's more, we were reasonably well-prepared. My mental checklist had been getting reviewed and revised repeatedly for months and it was only at this point I began to realise that the key issues were sorted, the visas were in our passports, the tickets to the continent were booked and we were set to depart no matter what.

My crash course in vehicle maintenance had flagged up that the cam belt was the single most potentially fatal failure an engine could have (running out of oil potentially excepted) due to the damage the thing can do if it snaps when you're tanking it at 85 down the autobahn. Enquiries had got us nowhere regarding when, if ever, it had last been replaced, so we took the tough but sensible decision to get it changed before departure. The inspection by Dragan, our friendly Macedonian mechanic, had also flagged that the brakes needed fixing - again we agreed. It stung our already meagre budget for £400, but meant that at least we had taken pre-emptive action as far as we could - if we ground to a halt before we got out of Europe it wouldn't be because we'd overlooked or ignored a basic fundamental of vehicle preparation.

The countdown to departure was well and truly on.

Pictures from the training weekend in Yorkshire

Charity Rallies (Charlie, Ryan & Sophie) organised a training weekend for us up near the Castle Howard Estate in Yorkshire towards the end of June. They'd arranged for Sam from the Royal Geographical Society - a man who had led numerous overland expeditions all over the world - to show us some basic hints and tips on surviving (and helping our vehicles survive) in the great outdoors.

It was a great opportunity to meet some of the other teams and learn some new skills - although we didn't do the more strenuous day's off road driving in Genghis as, minus sump guard, we didn't want to risk hitting a rock and having him die on us on the Yorkshire moors, before we even reached Dover. The fact that we didn't even know what a sump guard was until a week beforehand was irrelevant - now we knew what could break and how, we were determined to take steps to avoid it. We did, however, manage to try out our newly purchased pop up tent and folding chairs - part of a camping set promotion in Argos, who I believe (although am not 100% sure) kitted out both Ewan McGregor & Charlie Boorman for their "Long way round", and Roald Amundsen on his trip to the South Pole in 1910.

This was when things started getting properly real - we were able to share preparation tips, discuss lack of sponsorship and see the sort of roads we might encounter in Kazakhstan and beyond. We also got to know our fellow ralliers and the guys from the charity, and it was great to know we were doing it with, and for, such a lovely bunch of people. 

our pop up home for the trip gets its first trial run - Genghis watches on

Genghis lines up alongside Lost In Transit for the photo op

All Weasel No Beaver get a crash course in Ford Ranger maintenance

The view from Charlie's ex-army beast, on the Yorshire moors

Lost in Transit practice towing Darting All over the World out of a ditch

Sam & his Landy show us what real overlanding is all about

Thursday 17 Jun 2010 17:23

Van prep

by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

Alex washes the roof of the van

We took newly-monikered Ghengis (surname "Van", original I know) on the road for the first time last weekend, up to my sister's house in Gloucestershire to give it a scrub and get some advice on looking after it on the road.

We managed to get the majority of the clay that coated the inside off - a legacy of its previous incarnation working for Justyna's employer, Concept - with the help of two very willing assistants, Alex and Shannon. A huge thanks to them for all their amazing help - a future in car valeting awaits if the whole  'primary school' thing doesn't work out.

Shannon cleans the inside

On Sunday, we had a masterclass in rally car maintenance from local Legend, Mike. I don't have the words to describe how helpful he was - he looked the van over, gave us tips on what to check and fix before departure (installation of a sump guard and replacement cam belt being the two key points) and proceeded to teach us a litany of tricks to help on the road. Just a flavour: 

• protect the air filter in dusty conditions by stuffing the hose with foam
• detach the air hose and place it on top of the engine to be able to drive through water
• press the "big red button" to restart the engine if it cuts out after hitting a nasty pothole
• manually pump the diesel into the engine if you run out and air gets in to the system
• remember fuses, bulbs, and batteries for the key fob - without it the immobiliser will kick in

Chris and Mike fix the back door handle

I stared at him in slack-jawed awe, scribbling furiously onto a pad, and feel 1000 times more confident about the road ahead now. He was even decent enough to give us his mobile number should we get stuck in the wilds of Kazakhstan - fingers crossed we don't need to use it.

The evening ended with a demonstration from Mike and my brother-in-law Chris on puncture repair. We were planning on stocking up on multiple spare wheels but with the magic of darning kits and Oko I think we'll be just fine.

Huge thanks to Mike, Chris, Alex, Shannon, Cameron (for additional sponge-work) and Julie, for all the help and advice. If we make it past Kingston-upon-Thames, you can rest assured it's largely down to you. 

Tuesday 15 Jun 2010 18:02

Visas. Done. Kind of.

by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

I picked up my Russian visa today from the application centre in central London! Unfortunately, my amazing levels of organisation let me down yet again, as I forgot the receipt proving I was entitled to pick up Justyna's passport as well. It currently remains, nestled in a part of EC2 that shall remain forever Russia, until she can leave work early enough to pick it up. Sorry team mate. 

Once that's sorted, we can relax in the knowledge that we can at least make it to Mongolia - we (will) have documentation for Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, the 3 key countries which make up the majority of our trip. We still have the Uzbekistan visa to sort, our Letters of Invitation having been delayed until the end of the month, but that gives us time to keep an eye on the deteriorating situation in that part of the world. As much as it is a dream to visit Samarqand and Bukhara, we have to be sensitive to the situation and display a bit of common sense into the bargain. Here's hoping - obviously not just for our sake - that the bloodshed of recent days in Kyrgyzstan comes to an end quickly and peacefully.

The Russian visa application centre is a bit of a let down. It reminded me of Lambeth council customer centre. Go in, take a ticket, wait for your number to be called. No mystique at all. Compare that to the Uzbekistan Embassy in Holland Park, where you're met with the expected surly bloke behind a hatch who refuses to return your passport unless you've brought the correct bank giro counterfoil (there are two. Both identical. Don't even think about trying to fob him off with counterfoil 1 though. He will notice and send you away to come back tomorrow with counterfoil 2). The Russians, by contrast, even contrived to be helpful when faced with my flustered reaction to the news I couldn't pick up Justyna's passport. They were reasonable. They tried their best, offered suggestions, but we couldn't find a way round it. That's not what I signed up for. Where was the surly bureaucracy? Anyway, J managed to collect her passport the following day, and any potential crisis was averted.

The situation in Kyrgyzstan was more concerning for us at that point. Anti-government demonstrations had turned ugly and there was something approaching civil war between ethnic groups kicking off, which seemed to be spreading to Uzbekistan as well. Our original route saw us travelling down through Kazakhstan, into Uzbekistan, across to Kyrgyzstan and then back out into Kazakhstan. Bishkek was a guaranteed no no due to the violence and the fact that the neighbouring countries had closed their borders, but we still hoped to make it down to Uzbekistan for a flying visit to the Silk Road cities of Samarkand and Bukhara. The whole endeavour was scary enough without putting ourselves knowingly into danger though.

We managed to get new tyres on the van. Well, one new tyre. All £15 worth of it. I tried my best to sound like I knew what I was talking about when I visited Zak's Tyres on Ferndale Road in Brixton - after all, I was a man, with a white van, and had it on good authority that the two front tyres were bald to the point of illegality.

This is what I nonchalantly told the 16 year old kid when he asked "what can I do for you boss?". Well, I failed to mention that I'd no idea what I was talking about and was trusting one of Justyna's work colleagues' assessment. "Front two tyres need replacing, not sure about the back two".

"Oh yeah? What's wrong with this one then?", he asked, prodding the front left tyre with his foot.

"Err, nothing. Is there? You tell me"

"Nah, it's fine mate - you only need one on the front right."

"Oh. Thank you for your honesty, young man. I'm going to leave now so you can't see me turn red, and let you get about your masculine business".

Without wishing to spoil any potential cliff-hangers, not only did our second hand tyre last the whole way to Gloucestershire and back that weekend - it is, for all I know, still attached to Genghis as he cruises the mean streets of UB. Not bad value for money.

Saturday 12 Jun 2010 12:01

4 weeks to go

by Tony Edgar of Steppe By Steppe

Cripes. 4 weeks from now we'll be sitting in Highbury Fields with our little Kangoo, ready to embark on the trip of a lifetime.

How's it come round so quick? We signed up in October - we'd loads of time to get organised! Needless to say, the worst laid plans and all that.... I'm trying to stay calm as I work out what is left to do - what we don't manage to sort before departure we will leave to the Gods of fate and adventure to decide.

This weekend sees us off to the country to give the van a run and make use of my sister's farmyard to give it a right good clean. Before that though, we've got to get some new tyres that might see us halfway across the world....or at least Gloucestershire.