Update.
Eventually got tired of the car's intermittent hot running issues and set about going about things in a slightly less haphazard manner.
Pulled the carb off and gave it a good clean as it was covered in crud, also replaced the waxstat with two period correct "New Pennies". The waxstat is supposed to lean off the mixture slightly when the car is hot to improve fuel economy but they can go funny with age and it's just another potential failure point, two pennies is exactly the correct depth and diameter to replace it so it's literally a 2p fix...
Took the car out for a test run to collect a parcel and it died outside the collection office and wouldn't restart. I pushed it off the main road and walked home.
I was then informed that another friend's car (Merc 190) had broken down a few streets away and when the locals found they couldn't steal it they just set it on fire, so I set about rescuing my car asap. A local friend aided with the rescue and I towed the car home.
Some diagnosis quickly revealed that the oil I'd put in the carb dash pot was too thin and had all vanished and as a result the piston had jammed closed. I filled it up with 20w50 which I use in the engine and the problem was instantly resolved...
I then replaced all four spark plugs and the HT leads, the rotor arm, dizzy cap, re-set the ignition timing with a strobe light, set the valve clearances, re-routed the fuel line as far from the engine as possible with new hose, tuned the carb as per the factory manual and fiddled about with the throttle and choke cables.
As the car HAD been set up it was slightly too lean and the choke wasn't operating properly.
The car STILL struggled when hot.
I then pulled the electronic ignition dizzy (built as one unit) and swapped in the original Lucas points system, gapped the points to the book figure aaaaand... Sorted. The car ran perfectly. It'd pretty much fire on the first turn of the key with a touch of choke and pulled really well. The only minor issue was that the car would only fire just as you released the key as the starter was drawing enough to current to make a weak spark, most likely due to a bad earth somewhere.
I started using the car largely as an around town runabout, with the odd trip to work on the motorway.
In early December I had an Australian Pink Floyd gig to attend in Carlisle and I decided to use the Doloshite. Originally my mate, who was also going to the gig, was going to drive us both down in his BMW 135i and we were going to stay over night at his parent's place after the gig as they live near Carlisle. However I couldn't get the day off work so I'd have to drive there and back on the night.
Drove down to meet him at his parent's house, picked up him and his dad, drove to Carlisle, attended the gig and bid my farewell.
Now, due the the generally rubbish state of the Doloshite's engine I'd employed a "use until destruction" policy. The engine was a mish-mash of new and second hand parts, had suffered from oil starvation prior to my ownership, had likely done over 130,000 miles, featured shagged valves, piston slap, rumbling big end bearings, poor compression, top end rattle, missing teeth on the flywheel, a damaged spark plug thread and it pissed oil from everywhere.
I'd been setting aside some money to fund buying another 1300 engine and rebuilding it, as my current example would require so much machine work it wasn't really worth saving. I was going to run it for as long as I could, preferably until I had another engine ready to slot in.
On my way home from the gig at around 11pm, just outside Lockerbie on the M74 at about 65mph, the engine developed a very loud and distinct knock from the bottom end. Most likely from a big end bearing finally giving up on life and causing a con rod to flap about on the crank.
The car still ran and I managed to limp off the motorway to Lockerbie.
Due to being fastidiously cheap I'd refused to pay out for breakdown recovery services on the basis that I rarely broke down and when I did getting the car running was always achievable. This was now about to bit me in the arse. I phoned my mate to see if he could pick me up, but him and his parents had been drinking so they couldn't drive. I phoned some hotels in Lockerbie, all closed. Taxis, ditto.
I joined the RAC on my phone to be told
after I'd joined that there was a 24 hour cool down period before they'd do anything for me.
Right, it was now -5C, my phone had 4% battery and the prospect of sleeping in the car was an unpleasant one. I elected to limp the car along backroads back to Carlisle and my mate's parent's house as it was closest. As I slowly went along the knocking grew louder, the oil light illuminated and couldn't be extinguished and the car's top speed steadily dropped from about 35mph 25, then 15, then 10. Finally about 2 miles outside Gretna Green the knocking stopped being rhythmic and the engine died, indicating that it had finally dismantled itself. I managed to coast the car and then push it for another mile or so before a slight uphill stretch forced me to push the car off the road.
As I pushed the car into it's final resting spot outside a small cluster of cottages a figure appeared at an upstairs window of the closest one.
"You alright, mate?"
"My car's engine has died, could I use your phone?"
"Aw, no way, man. Hang on a second I'll be right down".
Turns out I'd managed to plonk the car right outside a hippy, stoner, traveller guy's house, one who also happened to work as a chef at a local hotel. He treated me to a cup of tea and a phone charger and we chatted about his travels and how he'd been stuck in shit situations before and that him helping me out would hopefully help his karma on his future trips abroad. He also said I could leave the car there and if anybody asked he'd say it was one of his mate's cars. He then escorted me to the Gretna Hall Hotel where he knew the staff, I secured a room for the night, at 3am.
I was then busy as fuck for the next fortnight before I managed to catch a train back out to Gretna to test out my new RAC membership for the first time. They relayed me back to Glasgow, although the entire endeavour between me leaving my flat and getting home was a full 8 hours.
Since getting the car home a week before Christmas I've done nothing to it aside from clean it and cover it in tinsel over the holiday period...
Another 1300 engine has been sourced via a helpful denizen of the internet who bought it for a Spitfire project he never got around to completing for a total cost of £0 and with any luck it should be arriving some time in March. Once it lands I'm going to strip it and rebuild as necessary before swapping it into the car.
Later this year me and Girlfriend_70s are planning on moving in together, I need a driveway/garage and she wants a garden so depending on how quickly things progress I may soon have somewhere half decent to actually work on my cars instead of doing it at the side of a public street and operating out of a 3rd floor flat...
Overall motivation to do car shit is at an all time high but the time/money/facilities are more lacking than ever so I am limited to brief windows of daylight/decent weather/ when I'm not at work or being social.