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Foiled……again.

‘In the corner of the workshop, Olli Ragbin sits watching events unfold before him’


We all love a properly fast car. To truly understand performance it’s important to understand context.


How do you know if 500bhp and 0-60 in 3 seconds is both a lot & fast unless you truly understand the other end of the spectrum?


This week we had the other end of the spectrum in at CCM. Whilst not too powerful and relatively speaking, slow, the East German Trabant certainly has a cult following.


600cc of displacement knocking out 25hp in enough to propel this diminutive product of the catchily-named VEB Sachsenring Automobilwerke Zwickau car company, to 60 mph in 21 seconds.


What the Trabant lacked in engineering investment was more than made up for by the money they ploughed into the marketing department. No argument, the best slogan for the building material of choice in the automotive world….ever. Imagine what they would have done if they’d have had carbon fibre!



Life in East Germany however was a mixed bag.


On the plus side you live with a regime whose ultimate goal was that of common ownership, the absence of social classes, money and the state.


Everyone owned a share of production and the bourgeoisie and the proletariat were levelled though social revolution, so everything was fair.


On the downside you had to wait 10 years for your new Trabant to arrive. Mmmm no getting away from the fact that this probably doesn’t sound that appealing. And if you were going to get away from it, if you were in your Trabant, it wouldn’t be too quickly either.


In 2021 however, we live in more generous and democratic times. Owning a slice of cold-war history without any of the potential hardships of communism is what makes this classic so charming.


It’s a lovely little machine with that small two-stroke nestled up front. Running one of these lil beauts is certainly a much more pleasant proposition when you don’t have to queue for bread and eat lard (as a treat) twice a week.


I’ve never actually seen a Trabi on the road, which is why this week all eyes were on Dr Ray’s ramp as this one was lofted gently lofted into the air for careful work to commence.

Continuing on the German theme we had an utterly stunning Karmann Ghia in. Its owner rolled her out of the garage only to realise starting it was not on the cards and an instant (but beautiful) roadblock was the result.


Eric quickly finished his bread and lard sandwich, broke the emergency glass and both Young Chris and Justin where pointed, Thunderbirds-esque, toward the location of the stationary Ghia.


CCM to the international rescue.

I quite like the idea of being a technician. The thought of gently spannering a classic back to life is very appealing to me. Right up and till the point where I see anything to do with electrics.


I am befuddled by many things in life. Algebra. My new central heating thermostat. Chopsticks. Most of the music either of my children listen to. But there is little that makes my brain hurt as much as the sight of an exposed wiring loom and an electrical niggle to sort.


I haven’t so much as wired a domestic plug since 1993, so the thought of this particular sun-bleached Landie’s coloured spaghetti literally makes my hair itch.


Justin on the other hand just got stuck in. I think being able to deal with wiring must be akin to having a sixth sense…like telekinesis or something…. Whilst watching him I swear I saw his small electrical screwdriver jump unaided into his outstretched hand.


Dr Ray’s perfect DT175 was his commuting weapon of choice this week. He’s set up 5 CCTV cameras trained to his shiny motorcycle following previous skull-duggery from an un-named CCM suspect (oil-leak japery has never been and will never be amusing. Ever. To anyone…..ahem….)

On Tuesday I rang Eric on the QT.


It was about 7.15am. I’d had an idea. But like all ideas hatched between Eric and I, this one was a) terrible b) economically unsound and c) terrible.


I’d done the maths (which didn’t work), I’d thought of the sales pitch (which didn’t work either), I even had a marketing plan in mind (it was ambitious bordering on fanciful).


We should buy a potentially available classic, do it up, sell it for a tidy profit.


This always sounds like a good idea, but the time effort and expense of actually pulling this off rarely works. I talked it over in hushed tones. Eric liked the plan.


Ingrid’s spidey senses had been tingling and she could tell tomfoolery was afoot. With a subtle deftness and fleetness of foot she was suddenly in the middle of the phone call which had Eric and I back-tracking and quickly blaming each other for the ridiculous idea.


I could sense Ingrid smiling a winners smile as she foiled yet another ‘bright idea’.


Eric sulked in the background before wandering off in search of the lard.

Yin and yang. Any marriage is a balance and a compromise. Both bring many things to the party. One brings logic, calmness and sense….the other tries every last trick in the book to get another classic through the doors unnoticed. I’m not naming names here, but you get the (above) picture.


A TR6 with an oil leak, an old MGB and even my Rangie back in…. again…. (this time a broken jubilee clip had felled the beast and summoned the RAC) all signed the CCM workshop visitors book.


Right, that’s this week done. What hair-brained scheme can I come up with next week? Surely Ingrid can’t make all of them seem foolish. Time to get my thinking boots on.


Until next time, from Eric, Dr Ray, Justin, Young Chris and Siobhan…stay safe people and see you in the workshop.


Ollie


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