atomicvindaloo.com – the occasionally drunken ramblings of an urban philosopher

The sun!

Ξ March 30th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ House |

Gorgeous

Ξ March 29th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Jules |

Just like this!

Ξ March 27th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Uncategorized |

So, all things being well. I can blog from anywhere in the world. (just need to get a bluetooth keyboard now:-).

A test…

Ξ March 26th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Uncategorized |

….. from my groovy N95 8Gig. Not only can I post (piccies and video too) to the site, but you can also track my whereabouts (when the GPS is switched on) by using the link that will appear -> here <- when I get round to finish writing the page.

Noise – Kong is here!

Ξ March 14th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Atomic |

(Note: The thumbs on this page link to _full_ size images)

Let’s get one thing straight first. I love my Landrover ….. she’s slow, noisy, smelly, leaks oil everywhere, old and does what she wants – when she wants but, man, I love her. The only persistent problem I have ever had with her is just why in the name of all things holy, did some half-wit in Solihull decide one day that “I know, rather than a horn, we’ll install a new-born lamb”. I find myself sitting behind aged drivers or smiling benignly at groups of chavs wandering infront of me rather than press the horn stalk and watch the smirks around me as this big, lumbering off-road beast makes an apologetic bleat.

Now I can’t remember exactly when or where I first encountered someone installing a train-horn on their vehicle. It may have been about a year ago and it was probably a clip on YouTube. Whenever and where-ever it was, I do recall that my inner child beamed. In fact, can that. My inner child started giggling. I searched and researched and – boy – those things are expensive. Not only that, they’re nigh-on impossible to get hold of in the UK.

Well, thanks to the fine folks at Siege Engineering, I finally found a UK supplier. The only remaining issue was the yenom. Work kindly gave me a bonus this year and I was inches away from purchase but, wife wanted a couple of frocks and a hair-do, daughter one wanted clothes, daughter two wanted treats and son decided to total his car – leaving me with buttons.

I was plodding round the house a few weeks ago and stumbled across (over) my stacks of outdoor gear. Hmmmmmm. Ebay. Hmmmmmm. Well, to cut to the chase, I made more than I expected on my gear and, once again, found myself in a position to finally be able to treat myself to something. Something shiny. Something large. Something loud!

Here follows the half-wits installation story. If I can do it – anyone can. I am so notoriously bad with electrics that I could get a shock off of a piece of paper and, when it comes to DIY type work, I have an attention span that Quantum physics would struggle to categorize.

I parted with my cash (I won’t tell you how much, but it was a reasonable amount). In fact, I contacted previous buyers of the system to ask how they found the horns. The consensus was “They’re the dog’s b*&&*£ks – buy some!” Three days later, a large box marked “Siege Engineering” turned up at work.

The first thing that I have to say is that the packing is superb. Really well padded and wrapped, the box contained other large boxes – one containing the horns, and one containing the compressor. There was also a bag of electrical odds-and-sods, metres of pipe, an instruction book and a checklist of items.

The first box I opened was that containing the horns and – wow – what a piece of art they are. Huge! Beautifully made from stainless steel, heavy and clearly made to last. They also threw a slight spanner in the works, as I had originally intended to mount the horns under the bonnet – where the pre-heater and 24v alternator used to go – but they were miles to big for that. Back to the drawing board there.

Next box was the compressor and, again, what a piece of kit. Clearly built to survive a nuclear attack, my fears of a large tank of highly compressed gas exploding in the back of the Landrover were instantly allayed.

All that remained now was to find the time to put it all together and, that night, I actually RTFM. Unbelievable, but this is something that I wanted to get right ….

First off then, where the hell to mount the horns. The instructions suggested engine bay, inside the bumper (?!), under the bed or on the roof as popular places. (Too big, what?!, haven’t got one ….. ah! Ah-ha! Something else to bolt to the Brownchurch). I lifted the horns to the rack and – lovely – they fit beautifully. Out with the drill then to make some more holes in the roof rack, a couple of big bolts and locking washers and voila! Looking very nice there.

Next up, wiring in the horns. (Electrics alert!) The instructions do state – correctly and numerously – to disconnect the battery when wiring things up but reading them was enough for me. I don’t know if you folks have ever seen the wiring on an ex-army Landrover, but it’s all tucked away very nicely and a sod to get to. Consequently, I have a spaghetti bowl of wires around the place that I’ve used for the amp, spots, work-lights and charging sockets. All probably very dangerous and all gloriously Heath Robinson. However, they all work and wiring in the horns was just a case of tapping into an existing live feed and bolting another earth to the bulkhead. I’d purchased a lovely chrome horn button that went into the dashboard and, with the help of my old mates Duck Tape and Gaffer Tape, sort of tidied up the wiring a bit.

After all this, a push of the horn button and there’s a reassuring Click! from the roof-rack as the horn operates. Nice!

Next up is mounting the compressor. Now this baby is big. Very big and heavy. As luck would have it though, Landrovers have a beautiful second bulkhead behind the front seats. Out with the drill again, some even bigger bolts and the compressor is sitting comfortably behind the driver’s seat. Admittedly with only three bolts rather than four – because I drilled one of the holes in the wrong place – but firm and secure.

Next step is to wire the compressor. (Major electrics alert!) This involves a work of satan called a relay. I also need a live feed, a switched feed and a couple of earths. The live feed is no problem, I just tap into the feed to my charging block. The kit comes with a twenty amp blade fuse and holder (clearly, the compressor is drawing some serious juice) but, the charging block already had an inline cylindrical twenty amp fuse, so I went with that. My trusty companion Mr Multimeter decided that the top of the rear bulkhead was earthed, so I earthed the compressor and relay on that which just left the switched feed.

I hunted, searched and swore alot. Army wiring and all that. As I was about to give-up I remembered the amp. Hmmmmm. Mr Multimeter confirmed that one of the feeds to the amp seemed to be switched. I have no idea why because I can switch it on and run it without the ignition on but – hey – I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. You may recall that the instructions kept mentioning about disconnecting the battery …… well, during my multimeter searching on the amp, I must have touched two terminals at once because there was a flash and a bang somewhere to my left. Undeterred, I pressed on. Wired up the switched feed and turned on the ignition to test the compressor.

Nothing. Bugger.

Back to the amp and Mr Multimeter confirmed that, what was once a switched supply was as lifeless as a rock. Great. More umming and ahhing and I decided that sod it, switched supply is far too lah-di-dah – I’ll just install the old switch that I had for my work lamps and run a live wire to the relay. Simple.

Flick the switch and, Yes!, the compressor fires up. Bloody hell it’s loud! And bloody hell, I melted the fuse holder – whoops! Quick break to install the correct fuse holder …..

Next up, is running the hose from the compressor to the horns. This time I was pretty careful, as we’re dealing with 120psi here and any air lost means doing it all again. I wrapped tape around the connectors to ensure a complete seal and set about drilling a hole in the roof of the landy. I had even bought some grommets to seal the hole but, by now I was so close to sorting things that I couldn’t be arsed to re-drill the hole so that it would fit and just reverted to my main man Duck tape to seal it. The connectors on the compressor and horns are seriously heavy duty and you really have to put your back into tightening them up. All worth it though, as this bit is important.

Finally, done. Loads more Duck tape to try and tidy things up a bit and it’s time for a test. The instructions say that it should take no more than a couple of minutes for the compressor to fill the tank. Anything over four minutes and you’re going to melt the brushes. I was relieved then that it only took about ninety seconds to fill and the auto shut-off did it’s job. A glance at the pressure gauge on the tank and, there it is, 120psi!

With trembling hand, I sat in the driver’s seat and looked at the shiny chrome button. Was the Landy going to burst into flames? Was the tank going to explode? Had I wasted my money on another new-born lamb? Only one way to find out……

Now. I only tapped the button. Literally a fraction of a second. Barely brushed it. Those of you who know me, know that I am – on occasion – given to expletives.

FARKING HELL!

I cannot describe the sound. I can state, for the record, that I have never heard anything so loud in my entire life. I can also confirm that I haven’t stopped smiling since. I went for a longer press and, if anything, it was even louder. A beautiful freight-train sound. These horns are not warning devices. They are purely and simply weapons.

During this more extended test, something flew from the roof and over the bonnet. I have no idea what it is – I’m guessing it was something that was put in a horn for factory testing and forgotten about, but there’s nothing missing up there.

After day to day use I can confirm a few facts ;

• Horses in fields run further than cows or sheep
• People don’t just jump, cringe or flinch. They physically try to escape the sound.
• The echoes of the horn last five or six seconds
• You can cut through chavs like a knife through butter

What can I say? Buy some. You will never regret it. And here, although the microphone on the camera is totally incapable of doing it justice is a comparison of the normal Landrover horn and the train horn. Enjoy. (Note: My camera is incapable of picking up the sheer volume of the horn – you may also want watch this clip for a touch of verification) (Another note: The “Sorry”, was because a group of folks two-hundred metres behind Atomic and in a different road had jumped out of their skins!)

In summary:

Pros:

• Superbly packaged
• Easy to install
• Very robust
• Does everything it says on the tin and more
• Will make you feel like a teenager

Cons:

• The police will probably have “a word” with you if they catch you
• I now have to try and fix my amp (more electrics!)

My ears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ξ March 12th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Uncategorized |

Jumping jebus, the horn is loud. I’ve taken piccies of the install (with a few boo-boos along the way – you know me and electrics), which I finished at lunchtime today. I’ll put up a page with the story and a clip of what Atomic’s old horn and new horn sound like next to each other. Watch this space!

Toot toot!

Ξ March 11th, 2008 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Uncategorized |

The horn is here …….. fitting blog to follow