As Larry approached his 22^nd birthday, he started to display some rather expensive symptoms of his age. The juddering on pulling away at roundabouts and junctions was not one I enjoyed, nor was that acrid burnt pickle smell that pointed to the clutch failing. The scraping and crunching, the reluctance to shift and remain in second gear all pointed to a pending catastrophic transmission failure.

I rather like my Discovery 2, so I had to dive into the saving account and order some very significant replacement parts before driving became impossible.

Now, I am becoming quite handy with a spanner, but I know my limits. Replacing a drivetrain on the yard was not something I felt I had the skills for. So, I approached work and asked if this was a task that could be done there. Fortunately, it was. I ordered the parts to be delivered there and booked Larry in.

The work was a challenge from start to finish. Twenty-two years is a long time for a bolt to be in place, and every single one of them let us know about it. From removing the exhaust from the manifold to taking off the cross members; each one had to be encouraged with oxyacetylene. It was a long, laborious process, and taking off the prop shafts was no less easy; however, we eventually managed to get the old parts off.

I’ve cut out the vast amount of swearing and frustration but believe me, there was a lot to get to this point. Darren, my most capable mentor and friend, had some choice words to say about the condition of the clutch when he saw it. The politest part was, ‘that’s just miles away from failing!’ I felt vindicated in doing the work on hearing this.

The end of the first day was jet washing the grime from the transfer box and gearbox bellhousing, so they looked clean when they were put back on the car – hopefully by the middle of the second day.

We did get there too. Of course, this did not go smoothly. This time, it was the transfer box. The bracket that held the link cable for the high to low gear ratio had snapped off. It set us back by a couple of hours due to the fact we had to repair it. Nowhere local had a replacement, and we wanted to get the job done. Darren, being the genius (and much more experienced mechanic) that he is, manufactured a brace for the two parts and secured it in place with five bolts… and a lot of JB Weld!

Once that was dry, we were able to wrestle the rest of the parts back into place. The prop shaft went on without a hitch, which left the exhaust and the crossmembers. The exhaust was fine. The crossmembers, complete with new bolts, was not.

By the point, Larry had been on the two-post ramp for a couple of days. His suspension just hanging there while we did the work. The weight of all that gear had pulled the chassis in by a few millimeters. It might not sound like much, but it was enough to make getting the crossmembers back in place problematic. Instead of panicking, we drove Larry onto the MOT ramp – which was thankfully free – to see if that would be enough to settle everything back to its usual place. It was. Half an hour later, we were done.

Since then, driving Larry has been like driving a new car… aside from the occasional clunk, the fewer spots of oil leaking from the engine sump (a job for summer) and the usual other niggles that come from driving a car this age.

So, thanks to Ashcroft for the ‘new’ gearbox, a shout out to LOF for the uprated clutch and the biggest of gratitude to Darren and Dan. Darren for breaking himself with me doing the work itself, and Dan for allowing us to do so in the first place.

Below – Who needs savings anyway!

The true test will come when we go and do some greenlaning next month!