My Scimitar Car Journey
Alright, let me tell you about this Scimitar car project I got myself into. It started pretty simply, really. Saw one advertised, looked okay in the pictures, price seemed decent. Thought it’d be a straightforward little job, maybe a quick tidy-up and flip, or just something fun to tinker with. Man, was I wrong.
First thing, getting it back to my place. That was adventure number one. Then, I actually started looking closely. Underneath the okay-ish paint, things were… interesting. The chassis seemed mostly solid, which was a relief, I guess. But the fiberglass body, that’s where the fun began. You touch one bit, and you find three other problems hiding nearby. Cracks, bad previous repairs, bits just delaminating. A real headache.
Diving In – What a Mess
So, I started pulling things apart. The interior needed gutting anyway, smelled like old socks and damp dog. Pulling out the seats, the carpets – revealed more fiberglass issues underneath, naturally. Then the wiring. Oh boy, the wiring. Looked like spaghetti thrown at the car by about five different people over forty years. Nothing matched any diagram I could find. Just random wires going nowhere, dodgy connections everywhere. Spent days just trying to figure out what was supposed to do what.
- Pulled out the entire dashboard assembly.
- Tried tracing wires from front to back.
- Found splices wrapped in masking tape. Seriously.
- Ended up deciding to rewire half the damn thing.
The Parts Nightmare
Then came sourcing parts. You think, “Oh, it’s a British car, bits must be around.” Some stuff, yeah, the basic Ford engine parts weren’t too bad. But trim pieces? Specific Scimitar bits? Good luck. Hours spent online, calling specialists, trying to find stuff that wasn’t ridiculously priced or located on the other side of the planet. Ended up having to try and repair or even make some bits myself, which added way more time than I planned.
The engine itself needed work. Ran rough as anything. Pulled the head off, found worn valve guides. Got that sorted. Then the carbs needed rebuilding. Fiddly job. Everything took twice as long because getting access is a pain. Whoever designed the engine bay clearly never intended for anyone to actually work on it. Had to contort myself into all sorts of shapes just to reach bolts.
Bodywork Blues
The fiberglass repair was the real slog. Grind out the cracks, lay new mat and resin, sand, fill, sand, prime, sand… repeat. Over and over. It’s dusty, itchy work. And you’re always finding more little imperfections. Trying to get the panel gaps even remotely consistent was another challenge. These things weren’t exactly built with laser precision back in the day.
Got it painted eventually. Looked pretty good, from a distance. Up close, well, you know. It’s an old fiberglass car worked on by me in my garage, not a concours restoration.
Putting it Back Together
Reassembly was basically the reverse of the nightmare, plus the new wiring loom I mostly built. Trying to get the dashboard back in without scratching the paint. Fitting the refurbished interior. Connecting everything up and praying it worked. First turn of the key… nothing. Of course. More troubleshooting. Found a bad ground connection I’d missed. Typical.
Finally got it running again. Drove it down the road. Felt… like an old Scimitar. A bit rattly, a bit noisy, but it moved. Was it worth it? Honestly, I don’t know. It cost more than I thought, took way, way longer, and caused a lot of swearing. But hey, it’s done. Sort of. Still got a list of little things to sort out. Always.
