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controls the gasline flow had vibrated loose. Wake simply borrowed a bobby pin from Frances Ferrara, who graciously and gallently agreed to allow her coiffure to suffer so that we might continue. She was following the group with her husband, Alfred, who owns a Winton on display at the museum. The Winton Valdez Even when things go well, our pace is slow by modern standards. On a |
flat stretch, we hit
20 mph
when everything is working well. That's not
fast today, but by 1899 standards, it's downright
blazing along. Every hour, we have to stop for routine maintenance, usually lubrication, since the 1899 Winton does not reuse its oil. Instead, the oil drips from three troughs and a small container into the engine and over the gears. From there, it drips onto the ground, which makes us a kind of Winton Valdez. In Buffalo, N.Y., someone |
pulls up alongside and,
helpfully shouts, "You are leaking some fluid
underneath." He does not know the half of it.
Happily, the amounts are small and the other,
newer Wintons recirculate their oil, so we avoid
having to file an, environmental impact statement. Wake is the maintenance expert, and he is very proprietary when it comes to the 1899. He insists on doing virtually all the work, although Holcombe is also deeply |
involved. My job is important too. I hand out moist towelettes for cleaning hands. This may seem, like a small thing, but the pressure is incredible. what if I hand out the towel too soon? Or too late? We have no gauges, so we must detect problems by vibrations or smell, such as oil smoke or burning wire. These are clearly not good smells so perhaps we should have a bumper sticker that says, "Warning: Smoking is Haz- ardous to the Health of Your 1899 Winton." Other clues: when the bang-bang-bang of the |