Jim loved to tell a funny story, and found humour in everything. This is a old favourite but I just can't tell them like he did. Back in the day  Jim, Alex, Brian and myself had a Sunday routine of hiring a 2 door mini and heading up to Lomond for a bit of pike fishing. Brian was the only driver and with Big Jim needing far more room than the rest of us, he got the other front seat. Not much room for all our gear you might think, but Jim was in charge of packing. Alex and I got the back seat, and on our laps were our big box seats crammed with all the food, water and gear we'd need for the day, and between us was Brian's box seat. Jim sat with the 8 gallon self brew bucket containing our livebaits between his feet on the floor, and his own boxseat on his lap. Over his left shoulder, 4 heavy rod holdalls had been slid in to rest on the back window, my shoulder and Jim's, clearing the front widscreen by about 2 inches. 'Sardines packed' Brian would be last in and had to close the door. It was a well rehearsed and practiced scenario, but far from the most comfortable if Brian took the car round a corner, or had to brake. As we headed on our way, we reached the Anniesland cross just after 5am. The lights changed, and as we pulled off, the car started pulling to one side. Brian announced we had a puncture. Amid much swearing we pulled onto the forecourt of a still closed petrol station, and unpacked the mini, and Brian headed to the boot for the spare tyre. Amid much more swearing (and possibly kicking of the flat tyre) Brian announced that we had a spare wheel, a wheel brace, and NO JACK! The bold Jim found the solution. 3 of us would lift the mini, whilst Brian changed the wheel! Backs to the car we three took grip under the sills, me at the back of the car, Alex nearest the door, and Jim between us, legs astride the wheel arch. We lifted the back corner of the mini with Brian telling us we need to go higher, and higher again until he could get the wheel off. Brian duly got down on his knees and crawled between Jim's to change the wheel. Alex and I were grimacing with pain as the rusty sills cut into our fingers, beads of sweat running down our brows whilst Brian worked away below Jim. Jim had his usual casual smile on his face (he might even have managed to scratch his nose!). It must have made a suspicious looking scene, and its just as well there were no curious Policemen around to see! The next 10 minutes seemed like 10 hours until Brian called out, "All Done", and we gently let the mini down. Alex and I checked our lacerated hands wondering if we would ever feel our fingers again as the unflappable Jim says 'Right, lets go fishing!'.