Anoraks at Battle 4 & 5 August 2001

Daisy does not like Saturdays. That can be the only reasonable explanation for so many things going wrong.

Paul, Steve and I loaded Daisy up to the roof with beer, meat and other camping essentials and set off for Battle on Saturday morning. We met up with the rest of the gang at a nearby pub and enjoyed a good lunch. So far so good. The others set off while we waited for Pete and Niall to arrive in Moby. I turned Daisy round ready in the car park and that's when the trouble started. The fluid dripping out the bottom was not water, it was diesel. We struggled with the small selection of tools I had available but when Pete and Niall appeared we decided that as it was only diesel it could wait until we got to the site.

When we eventually arrived on the site (a slight detour through Battle after taking a wrong turn) I discovered that two of my CBs were not working. Fortunately I remembered the site enough to find the camp that had already been set up. Paul and Steve set up the tent while I stole tools and attacked the diesel leak. Every other tent was some small sporty model, ours was the large marquee borrowed from Greenwich. We rose above the comments. With my third CB up and running (you cannot have too many) we went off for a play.

Until we caught up with the main group we went around finding holes to bury ourselves in. Any excuse to get the hi-lift out. Besides, we needed to seal up all the leaks with deer poo. Our thanks to Andy in the SIII who came to our rescue more than once. I made further demands on his generosity by making his tools dirty later. Hayden generously stole Steve from us as a passenger and has now given him unnatural desires, spending all his time looking at used SJs.

Finally we joined up with the main group and started to make some progress. We headed for some mud runs and came to a section that I will forever know as Fan Alley. We were plodding along, through some wet patches that Daisy has done dozens of times before, when disaster struck. Making a sound like a million fingernails on a million blackboards, 'Daisy threw a hoof'. Her fan decided it was a propellor and tried to swim through the radiator.

	Thanks to Tony's surefooted 110 and Paul's expert direction we were towed back to the camp site. As we went Geoff was busy calling Ian, the site's owner, to get the number of a local LR parts dealer. By the time we returned Lyndon had already left a voicemail for our hero, Julian, asking for a replacement rad. After beer, food, beer and some more beer, the phone rang and we were told a rad was on the way. So we stole more tools and attacked the old one. Undoing four million bolts that hadn't been removed since the Industrial Revolution.
	At half past eight Saturday evening, Julian turned up with the new rad at an excellent 80 quid including delivery - that's damn good service. By the time the old rad out it was too dark and too painful to do anything else. Instead we drank more beer and hitched rides for the night run. Cheers Billy and Lyndon! The next morning we hammered the fan back to shape and put in the new rad. I felt like James Herriot on a bad day.

	Field repairs complete, it was time to enjoy the wonderful sunny Sunday morning. And what better way than to sink into some ruts. We headed off into the woods. Those infamous Battle ruts are getting deeper and concerned that my makeshift repair on the fan might not last I was going slower and taking easier routes than usual. Going slower in the LWB tends to equate to getting stuck more often, and I certainly did!
	Sadly Lyndon's glorious buggy succumbed to V8 trouble (diesel gooood) and he and his prisoners were left behind to carry out repairs. We carried on, looking for more places to get stuck, heading for a nice bog run, coming from the top instead of the usual approach.
		Hayden's Suzuki was unimpressed, becoming stuck before even getting into the bog. As Steve clambered onto the bonnet to hook up a rope someone hooked on from behind and pulled him back. Steve really got the ride of his life!
		Once Hayden had cleared the bog there were more ruts to play in. Finally Pete, Niall and Moby were stuck and Daisy had a chance to rescue someone.

			We left the main group and went off on our own route with the Moby boys and Hayden. A bomb hole beckoned and we had some mad fun, Hayden proving that his Weber carbs do not like steep inclines (diesel very gooooooooood).
Daisy went on to prove that she is much happier on Sundays. No drop too deep, no climb too steep. The bomb hole was much drier than usual and very bumpy - rear spot bouncing off, recently fixed jubilee clips loosening. Great fun though!

All too soon it was time to pack up the tent and head for home. We checked the radiator, all seemed ok with a little top-up, and headed for home. On the way back Daisy's brakes steadily worsened. We had had the full set of leaks for the weekend - water, oil (as always, it is an LR), diesel and now brake fluid. So, something else to fix along with an electric fan. But after doing that rad, I can do anything!

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