***Spoiler Alert – there are no bees mentioned in this post***
I may have a problem. Some people collect teaspoons, or accumulate garden gnomes. Mine may be worse – I seem to acquire Land Rovers.
This was not so much of a problem when I had a large number of sheds to soak up the vehicles and assorted bits, but when one has to move house it does become an issue. I have three Rovers – two Series IIA, and another, probably Series III, but not sure. One, the oldest (has its 50th birthday this year!) is drivable.
The others – well, they required a car transporter trailer, and a lot of grunting. I have also uncovered a spare bonnet, three spare truck cabs, two bull bars, five starter motors, and three-ish gear boxes. There are lots of other spares too, from brakes to carbs to plenty of fluids and seals. I don’t actually know why I bother with the seals, British vehicles always seem to leak, no matter what you do. I was told that it is just them marking their territory.
Spares for Land Rovers are an interesting topic in themselves – rather than buy lots of new bits, the spares are gleaned from other, less fortunate trucks. The spare just has to be functional after some fashion. As the current part wears down, and is deemed no longer usable, it is replaced with the spare. Of course, the part that is taken off is then cleaned a bit, baptised with some grease or other suitable lubricant, and is then ready to replace the part which just went on as it wears down – an infinite cycle, only, the different bits all add their own new noises. Driving a Land Rover is not a quiet experience.
The loading, transporting and unloading, went more or less without a hitch, only Beloved did lose control of the winch as I pushed the Cream
Perhaps one of the trucks will make an excellent farm hack, able to go up and down the olive rows nice and slowly as I prune or spray or harvest or whatever. All I have to do is get it going.