One of the better things to come in a tube, or rather in a pair of tubes for double the delight, is Araldite adhesive.
Araldite is top stuff, even before you twist off the little caps. The name alone conjures up earthy robustness in the "Aral", mixed with some schoolboy chemistry in the "ite", I mean come on, you have electrolytes, sulphites, and Han Solo was encased in frozen, and possibly fictitious carbonite. So Araldite mixes Olde Englande with contemporary technology. The name also doubles as a verb. The unassuming snot-coloured goo bonds two surfaces with such strength that words have yet to be invented to describe the chemical joinery, hence the act of using Araldite becomes simply the act of "Aralditing" something.
It seems only appropriate then that this Colossus of adhesives was the solution to an irritating problem blighting the Seven since last summer...In keeping with its Less-Is-More design policy, the roof and doors of the car are secured using press-stud fasteners. Lots of them. It's a simple enough solution, obviously, the drawback being that the rivets holding these press studs in place are tougher than the skin of the car, and over a few years of happy motoring they eventually pull through and the press studs fall off. It doesn't stop there though, as the hole in the skin is usually enlarged and simply replacing the rivet doesn't work. So I turned to Araldite and one of their many variants. Araldite comes in several specialist versions now; "Clear", which is transparent, "Rapid", which is quick-setting and "Steel", which isn't steel. It does come in a stylish pastel silvery-grey tube as opposed to the Lego-brick red of normal Araldite, and I can't help thinking a name like "Araldite Platinum Edition" would add a few sales. It's as hard as steel though and can be similarly machined and worked so ideal for plugging an enlarged irregular hole in the ali sheet exterior of the Seven, drilling a small hole and then employing a self-tapping screw to reattach the errant press stud.
With all studs now in place I could at last put to use something that's been rolled up and poked away on a shelf in the garage for a couple of years (yes, years) since buying them via the For Sale section of BlatChat - a pair of half doors, which allow screen-free (and therefore by default full door-free) motoring without losing the critical driver protection from stone-flick from the front wheels.
As with all satisfying jobs on the Seven, this one was completed after 9pm, but with doors fitted, and a lazy half-moon peering down from a slightly misty sky I grabbed the keys and set off on something that's been missing for too long - a quick night blat.
With the half doors fitted, in body-matching BRG, and recently installed Brooklands aero-screens, from side on the car has a Bentley-esque look, a solid slab of automotive engineering. It seems to be maturing with age too, like fine wine, or perhaps grotty cheese I don't know, but where it once snarled and snapped it now has a fluttering purr, and the Lasham bends were all the more smooth for it. This wasn't an ambitious blat, just a refresher, so the Farnham BP petrol station was far enough. The moonlight flicked through the trees and hedgerows of Hampshire, reminding me of the giga-blat of last July when I set sail for Stelvio and cracked it in one very long but indescribably satisfying blat. On that occasion, the lunar illumination set the moody, silent Alps aglow, a magnificent scene and one I need to revisit soon. But for now, hot chocolate and a donut (of the baked variety) is reward enough.
Besides, we were being watched......
