For background on this car, see these posts (One, two, and three).

Here is our transplant patient in process.

Observing the decrepit hunk of steel that previously formed the nearby TR4A’s rear frame, any thought I entertained of learning rusty metal resurrection yielded to Harry Callahan’s advice, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”  Some of us lack the constitution for such carnage, so we pay Dr. Chip to do it, which he does seemingly absent the least bit of queasiness.  He detailed the operation for me while I grunted and aggressively furrowed my brow to convince him I understood whatever he was saying.  I suppressed the urge to inquire about the Johnson Rod and blinker fluid.

The weak frame portion that was removed.

This one came to us after sitting until it couldn’t shake the habit.   It was unnaturally flexible, which allowed Chip and Dean to teach me how to check for frame rot by watching for them to look at each other with the “One Eyebrow Raised”  universal British Car Mechanic signal for “This Car Has Frame Problems”.  After walking among the ruins on the shop floor, I marvel at people who do this stuff and need to lie down for a moment.

Current view underneath the TR4A

Despite the problems, I like the car, which could be a bumper sticker on the back of every British Car.  I once believed I valued Function Over Form, not realizing I was lying to myself.  Function Over Form disciples don’t drive British cars, the style and charm being the only idiosyncrasy untouched by progress.  It relieves me that the owner of this car found it in his heart and wallet to put it right, grisly surgery and all. Like most anyone who stumbles on this website, I look forward to seeing it drive away under its own power.