Success, success! Mr Damage is running again. I have bled my clutch and I am not bleeding from the knuckles — unlike some of my many other attempts at performing feats of motorised mechanics. After belting it with a bloody big lump of metal, the recalcitrant screw in the clutch-fluid reservoir could be undone, and then everything was by-the-book. New fluid in, assorted squeezings, bubbles and squirts everywhere, old fluid out, and finally a clutch that clutches — as it’s supposed to.