Oh bu993r, note to self, I am not the smartest ( no comments required) someone will have beaten you to the jokeGood Poker hand Andy
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Oh bu993r, note to self, I am not the smartest ( no comments required) someone will have beaten you to the jokeGood Poker hand Andy
That reminds meSold mine for £30
a caravan site
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I can take the wheel off, replace the disc and pads and refit quicker than my AA man will arrive bless him
ohh err misses ..I had it off in seconds
When i was 50 i could have done it easy,,at 71 i have more sense ,,on a truck that is,,easy on my motorhome,,BUSBY,,you not lived until you have changed a truck tyre and humped the flat onto the back of trailer, and I undo the wheel nuts with my ass all the other ex truck drivers will know what I mean, MH tyres do those in my sleep
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i carry 2 spares for the truck 2 spares for the trailer . tubes for both sizes . plus puncture outfits small or even big gaiters . oko tyre sealer . plus chewing gum stick repairs for tubeless tyres . truck halte levers and car spoon levers . trolley jack , high lift jack . 5 ton bottle jack .
if your in the wilds nobody is coming to rescue you . have air for trailer brakes so can pump up. use trailer legs as bead breaker so tyre changing repairs are ok.plus 3/4 inch sockets ,breaker bars and a long tube for cracking wheel nuts .
spare clutch just in case . plus heavy tow pole . and straps . also winches never know might need them . waffle boards for sand or mud . welder , tools .
mind if your just going down the road to a caravan site you might not bother to carry that much . but on long tours never know wjhat you might need .
no i built it for traveling around africa . its been down as far as gambia . all over morocco across algeria .Is your next trip AYRES ROCK,,?? BUSBY,,
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tyres might be directional . but the important thing is they go round and you get to somewhere that can fix or replace the damaged one or spin the spare tyre on the rim.Plenty of payload, got it all covered jack, spare, even a 19mm brace for the euroliner lock nuts. But I have to be very careful which of my six wheels I puncture as the damn tyres are directional
Dick
i can virtually guarantee if in cornwall, wales or many parts of spain etc if you do need help you wont have a signal. scotland is bad as well.I dont carry a jack. I cant see the point. I have a mobile phone.
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That's what I thought too. Wife said only the second biggest. Still don't get it.No jack... spare tyre only. Biggest tool in the van is a torque wrench.
LOL if you think that story is bad enough, there is a guy on here who carries a tyre only without the hub and is expecting a full roadside tyre fit service in Europe in the event of a punctureSo, let's get this straight.
It's a Sunday in France and you've got a puncture in the front tyre, you've had to pull over to the side of the road just outside Poitiers and you haven't got a jack.
Okay, you've tried calling the Breakdown number on the documents you found hidden away in your garage after about a quarter of an hour of searching and despite you shouting as loud as you can down the phone the bl**dy stupid French person at the end of the line still doesn't understand your version of French with a lot of English expletives added for good measure.
You haven't a clue whether Johnny Foreigner has understood a word you've said and you're no nearer getting the puncture sorted.
Flag down a car?
Yes, and pigs will fly!
Kick the tyre again.
SWMBO offers you a cup of tea and a bickie.
It starts raining.
Cars pipping you as they go past your Motorhome, narrowly missing it and you dare not open the habitation door 'cos you've got a British made vehicle and you'd be stepping out into the road.
Half an hour and a bit of luck at last.
A Motorhome with the type of number plate you recognise pulls up and offers to help.
What, the bl**dy fool hasn't got a jack either!
“He's no help, is he?” you whisper to the wife.
He does offer to go to the nearest tyre depot next morning for you and see if they can come out and help you.
Tomorrow?
Yep, every-where's shut, Sunday isn't it!
Okay mate, that would be great, see you sometime tomorrow.
Hells bells, hour after hour stuck at the side of the road, car horns sounding off all day and night, hardly any sleep and the rains still pounding on the roof.
Bit drier in the morning but those damned horns still going.
Where is that bloke?
Quarter past two a van pulls up in front.
Monsieur Pneuman it says on the side.
Bon jour, Monsieur says the smiling Tyre man.
Shakes his head; he's not seen any tyres that size for années he says.
Lots of arm waving but the gist is he'll have to order them.
How long? - how long is a piece of chaíne?
Shall I go on?
And all because you couldn't be bothered to carry a jack and you'd rather rely on other people to do it for you.
Most sense i have heard for a long time,,and if its Bastille day on either the sat or mon ,,well you will have a very long wait,,BUSBY,,,So, let's get this straight.
It's a Sunday in France and you've got a puncture in the front tyre, you've had to pull over to the side of the road just outside Poitiers and you haven't got a jack.
Okay, you've tried calling the Breakdown number on the documents you found hidden away in your garage after about a quarter of an hour of searching and despite you shouting as loud as you can down the phone the bl**dy stupid French person at the end of the line still doesn't understand your version of French with a lot of English expletives added for good measure.
You haven't a clue whether Johnny Foreigner has understood a word you've said and you're no nearer getting the puncture sorted.
Flag down a car?
Yes, and pigs will fly!
Kick the tyre again.
SWMBO offers you a cup of tea and a bickie.
It starts raining.
Cars pipping you as they go past your Motorhome, narrowly missing it and you dare not open the habitation door 'cos you've got a British made vehicle and you'd be stepping out into the road.
Half an hour and a bit of luck at last.
A Motorhome with the type of number plate you recognise pulls up and offers to help.
What, the bl**dy fool hasn't got a jack either!
“He's no help, is he?” you whisper to the wife.
He does offer to go to the nearest tyre depot next morning for you and see if they can come out and help you.
Tomorrow?
Yep, every-where's shut, Sunday isn't it!
Okay mate, that would be great, see you sometime tomorrow.
Hells bells, hour after hour stuck at the side of the road, car horns sounding off all day and night, hardly any sleep and the rains still pounding on the roof.
Bit drier in the morning but those damned horns still going.
Where is that bloke?
Quarter past two a van pulls up in front.
Monsieur Pneuman it says on the side.
Bon jour, Monsieur says the smiling Tyre man.
Shakes his head; he's not seen any tyres that size for années he says.
Lots of arm waving but the gist is he'll have to order them.
How long? - how long is a piece of chaíne?
Shall I go on?
And all because you couldn't be bothered to carry a jack and you'd rather rely on other people to do it for you.
Thats ok in Skegness,,BUSBYI dont carry a jack. I cant see the point. I have a mobile phone.
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Shakes his head; he's not seen any tyres that size for années he says.
Lots of arm waving but the gist is he'll have to order them.
How long? - how long is a piece of chaíne?
Shall I go on?
And all because you couldn't be bothered to carry a jack and you'd rather rely on other people to do it for you.
So, let's get this straight.
It's a Sunday in France and you've got a puncture in the front tyre, you've had to pull over to the side of the road just outside Poitiers and you haven't got a jack.
Okay, you've tried calling the Breakdown number on the documents you found hidden away in your garage after about a quarter of an hour of searching and despite you shouting as loud as you can down the phone the bl**dy stupid French person at the end of the line still doesn't understand your version of French with a lot of English expletives added for good measure.
You haven't a clue whether Johnny Foreigner has understood a word you've said and you're no nearer getting the puncture sorted.
Flag down a car?
Yes, and pigs will fly!
Kick the tyre again.
SWMBO offers you a cup of tea and a bickie.
It starts raining.
Cars pipping you as they go past your Motorhome, narrowly missing it and you dare not open the habitation door 'cos you've got a British made vehicle and you'd be stepping out into the road.
Half an hour and a bit of luck at last.
A Motorhome with the type of number plate you recognise pulls up and offers to help.
What, the bl**dy fool hasn't got a jack either!
“He's no help, is he?” you whisper to the wife.
He does offer to go to the nearest tyre depot next morning for you and see if they can come out and help you.
Tomorrow?
Yep, every-where's shut, Sunday isn't it!
Okay mate, that would be great, see you sometime tomorrow.
Hells bells, hour after hour stuck at the side of the road, car horns sounding off all day and night, hardly any sleep and the rains still pounding on the roof.
Bit drier in the morning but those damned horns still going.
Where is that bloke?
Quarter past two a van pulls up in front.
Monsieur Pneuman it says on the side.
Bon jour, Monsieur says the smiling Tyre man.
Shakes his head; he's not seen any tyres that size for années he says.
Lots of arm waving but the gist is he'll have to order them.
How long? - how long is a piece of chaíne?
Shall I go on?
And all because you couldn't be bothered to carry a jack and you'd rather rely on other people to do it for you.
Subscribers do not see these advertisements