The compressor (part one)

The mission for today was to pootle up the A1 in the landrover to deepest darkest Lincolnshire to collect my trailer compressor.

The mothership was at the wheel so I think it is only fair to point out in this semi-public forum a 40-year deeply hidden secret. She is from SCUNTHORPE. And it was mere miles from there we headed to collect the gear.


It is a beauteous thing resplendent in mustard and reassuringly chunky.


As easy to switch on as a car ignition and with only 600 hours on the clock… You can probably tell by this point that I have got deeply deeply into plant and all semi-industrial equipment. So much so that I have now purchased my own Dickies boiler suit in flame red. You gotta look the part, eh?


A massive thank you goes out to the guys at T A Industries. They were charming, super helpful and even donated the
Tow bar so we had lights to drag it home. Quite liked Lincolnshire generally – the most retro service stations you have ever seen, the Red Arrows doing practice fly bys and everyone calls you “Duck”. What’s not to like.



There was inevitable a slight technical hitch… The landrover had the wrong tow bar. I had to buy a brand new orange tow bar thingy. The guys at T A Industries very kindly bolted it on to the back. It did however cost me several bottles of wine at the pub before I could show Nigel quite what had been bolted to the back of his pride and joy.


A final thank you goes to Tony. Advanced RAF parking skills meant he could “fish tail” it round and reverse it through the gates!

Onwards to Rye tomorrow!


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