It’s been a wee while since I gave an update on Sadie. Now, you might assume her horror-show of an MOT test knocked the wind out of my sails. But no! Spirits remained mostly uncrushed—I’ve just been busy in the background hoarding parts like a magpie with a Halfords gift card, chipping away at fixes bit by bit.
Now, what I had in front of me was a tidy little list of “minor” jobs. You know, the sort a qualified mechanic would blitz through over a long lunch break.
I, dear reader, am not a qualified mechanic.
- The Greatest Hits of Sadie’s Faults:
- Number plate lights: dead
- Windscreen washers: also dead
- Headlight washers: deceased
- Headlight levelling unit: snuffed it
- Power steering: not just dead—leaking and dramatically theatrical about it
- Brake pipes: corroded enough to make an MOT tester cry
A list like that would make most people prioritise. Not me. I decided to kick things off with the most awkward, finger-splitting job on the list: the brake lines.
Now sure, I could have bought pre-bent or full braided lines like a sane person. But where’s the fun in that? I grabbed a flare kit off Amazon and dove in.
Passenger side first—closest to the ABS module on RHD cars. Some pipes came out with a bit of persuasion. Others required the full “angry toolbox” approach: cutting disc, blowtorch, and a spanner that I now lovingly call The Persuader. Unfortunately, in the process I also killed off the original brake hoses. Blueprint replacements were ordered and I pushed on.
Armed with a pipe bender and a suspiciously DIY copper-straightening setup (involving a block of wood and optimism), I shaped the new lines into something roughly resembling the originals. Flared the ends, bolted it all in—eventually.
Driver’s side was a treat. The pipe runs behind the bulkhead, the power steering tank, and the coolant reservoir—basically every part of the car that wants to fight you. I did what any rational person would: rage quit and went to do something easier.
Cue: number plate light replacement. A satisfying, clicky, 3-minute win.
While I was there, I pulled out the windscreen and headlight washer pumps and tossed them into a degreaser bath. 24 hours later, they resembled something from this decade. Amazing what a bit of cleaner and neglected maintenance can do.
Back to the brakes, I finished both sides and installed the new hoses. Job done—mostly by guesswork and spite.
Intermission: A Few Months of Sulking
Sadie sat untouched for a while as I regained motivation (and knuckle skin). Eventually, I tackled the headlight levelling unit, which was supposedly just a broken arm.
Cue: 3D printed replacement. Fancy. Even added the part number, because I’m a professional now.
Except the sensor itself had all the movement of a pensioner in quicksand. Time to admit defeat—bought a new unit, slapped it in, used the nice new arm that came with it, and called it a win.
Lastly, the now-cleaned washer pumps went back in, everything squirted as it should, and—miracle of miracles—all systems were go.
Sadie lives to fight another day. MOT avenged. Fingers only slightly ruined.
