MG Classic File

It was probably a bit self-indulgent to include the 1964 O-series MGB (above) in the model-by-model section of Classic MG File. I described it as a project by the author, one of several MGBs rebuilt with an M16 engine representing, it was hoped, what the B might have developed into had MG survived the dog days of British Leyland.

It was not to be. I describe in the history section of The Classic MG File how a hundred thousand MGAs and half a million MGBs had come out of the quaint little factory in rural Abingdon on Thames. MGs had become cult cars. Nothing else was ever so brim full of nostalgia. Yet the celebrations surrounding the fiftieth year of production in Berkshire turned within weeks to dismay, when Sir Michael Edwardes, chairman appointed by the government to stem BL’s disarray, announced its closure. The nationalised corporation claimed it was losing £900 on every MGB it made, but there was deep scepticism that this was an accountant’s fiction. MG simply did not fit with Lord Donald Stokes and Triumph-dominated BL’s plans. It was scant reward for the 1100-strong workforce’s exemplary industrial relations, but Edwardes could see no future for the symbiotic relationship MG founder Cecil Kimber had forged between sports cars and volume cars.

Like generations of enthusiasts I had affection for MGs. Friends had TAs and TCs. My brother had a TD. I followed several Sprites with an MGA (left)

and I navigated TDs and a TF in rallies. I followed the works team of TFs on the Circuit of Ireland Trial. My friend Roger Stanbury took me into the Vintage MG world in his 18/80. I was still a new road tester for The Motor in October 1962, when I drove MGB 523 CBL to Charterhall the weekend before the first road test the following Tuesday. The car was still technically secret but nobody minded much.

It was exactly 30 years later that I featured The MG That Never Was in The Sunday Times magazine. Heritage shell, chrome wire wheels, it was painted in a Rolls-Royce paint shop it looked stunning but unfortunately it was a project that ran out of cash. The M16 engine fitted exactly with a Sherpa van bellhousing, and SD1 5-speed gearbox.

Here is the entry in The Classic MG File.

For an engine whose origins went back to the dark days of the war, the pushrod B-series had an astonishing lifespan. It was subject to continuous development along with a number of attempts at its replacement, such as the E-series built in a new plant at Cofton Hackett. Quite a small power unit developed for front wheel drive transverse engined cars; this could have had two cylinders added for bigger cars. It would still have been difficult to fit into an MGB, however, and among the alternatives explored were a narrow-angle V4 and even a V6. Instead a 2litre version of the 5-bearing B-series was designed as something of a stop-gap. This was the O-series, with an overhead camshaft aluminium cylinder head, which unfortunately took a long time to develop as US emission control measures grew more demanding. It was fitted in the Rover SD1 2000 in 1982 and tried experimentally in MGBs in the late 1970s. With the B approaching the end of its useful life however, it remained a tantalising might-have-been. The O-series evolved into the M16 twin overhead camshaft fuel injected Rover 820 engine, mooted as a possibility for the revived MGB of the 1990s. The V8 was chosen instead, leaving a number of private owners, such as MG expert Roger Parker, to build one-offs that represented how the MGB might have been developed.

BODY roadster and GT, 2 doors, 2 seats; weight approx 2442lb (1108kg) (GT).
ENGINE 4 cylinders, in-line; front; 84.4mm x 89mm, 1994cc; compr 9.0:1; 101bhp (75.3kW) @ 5250rpm; 50.7bhp (37.8kW)/l; 120lbft (161Nm) @ 3250rpm.
ENGINE STRUCTURE single toothed belt driven overhead camshaft; cast iron block, aluminium cylinder head; two SU HIF 44 carburettors; contact-breaker ignition; 5-bearing crankshaft.
TRANSMISSION rear wheel drive; sdp clutch; 5-speed manual synchromesh gearbox; hypoid bevel final drive.
CHASSIS DETAILS steel monocoque structure; ifs by coil springs and unequal wishbones; live axle with semi-elliptic springs, anti-roll bars front and rear; Armstrong lever arm dampers; Lockheed hydraulic brakes with vacuum servo, front 10.75in (27.3cm) discs, rear 10in (25.4cm) drums; rack and pinion steering; 11gal (50l) fuel tank; 165SR -14 tyres; 5J rims.
DIMENSIONS wheelbase 91in (231.1cm); track 49in (22.9cm) (124.5cm); turning circle 30.5ft (9.3m); ground clearance 5in (12.7cm); length 158.25in (402cm); width 60in (152.4cm); height 49.25in (125.1cm).
PERFORMANCE 11kg/bhp (14.7kg/kW).
PRODUCTION nil, development cars only.

The late Wilson McComb, MG historian and PR man at Abingdon for many years, poses with an MGA.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Classic-File-Eric-Dymock-Books-ebook/dp/B00HKLDP1I

Vauxhall Wensum

The Wensum was a Vauxhall 30-98 OE-type made between 1923 and 1927. As with most up-market cars bodies were made to order, mostly the elegant 4-seat open 3-door Velox tourer. Handsome and well-proportioned, although more dramatic the nautical-looking boat-tailed Wensum had no doors, no hood, flared wings, polished wood panelling and V windscreen. It cost £150 more than the plain Velox. Coachbuilders Mulliner and Grosvenor also catalogued 2-seaters. Designer Laurence Pomeroy’s departure from Vauxhall had been a profound loss not only to Luton but also the entire British motor industry. He had been figuring out an overhead camshaft 30-98 since 1919 with all the flair and inventiveness of a British Ferdinand Porsche. Pomeroy’s prescient approach to engineering led him to America in 1919 where he did pioneering work on developing aluminium applications in cars. His successor at Vauxhall C E King developed Pomoroy’s work with a pushrod engine for the D-type 25HP and the E-type 30-98 in 1923 making it the fastest catalogued car in Britain. Almost all were sold as fast tourers.

The new engine had much the same lower half as before, with a redesigned block and overhead valves so large they needed rockers on offset pedestals. Their seats extended to the edge of the combustion spaces. Double valve springs and substantial four-bolt Duralumin connecting rods were necessary for an engine that revved freely to 3400rpm – almost unheard of. The result was greater refinement but not, at first, a great deal more speed although in racing trim and with a high axle ratio 30-98s were guaranteed for 100mph. Later cars had a balanced crank and good hydraulic brakes. Wensum pictured at Windsor last year had a slightly taller windscreen than early ones and a whimsical Vauxhall bonnet mascot. Instruments were laid out flat and the colour scheme original-looking with black flowing wings which, according to a sales catalogue (when a Wensum was £1300 “complete”) reproduced in Nick Portway’s splendid Vauxhall The Finest of Sporting Cars 30-98, “offer little resistance to the wind and are fully effective in keeping the body clean.” Portway’s books are exemplars; essential for any student of the Vintage era. See www.newwensum.co.uk/‎ .

BODY: Velox fast tourer 1423kg (3136lb). Wensum sports 4 seater, complete car 1473kg (3248lb) chassis 1245kg (2744lb)
ENGINE 4 cylinders, in-line, front, 98mm x 140mm; 4224cc; compr: 5.2:1; 83.5kW (112bhp) @ 3400rpm; 19.8kW (26.5bhp)/l; rated horse power 23.8. Later cars 89.5kW (120bhp) @ 3500rpm
ENGINE STRUCTURE pushrod overhead valves; chain driven camshaft; detachable cast iron cylinder head; cast iron block; 5-bearing crankshaft; Zenith 48RA carburettor, pressurised fuel feed until 1923 then Autovac; Watford magneto ignition; water-cooled, honeycomb radiator, cast alloy fan.
TRANSMISSION rear wheel drive; Vauxhall multi-plate clutch; 4-speed gearbox; ENV spiral bevel final drive; ratio 3.3:1.
CHASSIS DETAILS pressed steel chassis, engine sub-frame channel pressed steel section; half-elliptic suspension all round; Hartford friction dampers; 4 wheel brakes from 1923, hydraulic in front from 1926; worm and wheel steering; 54.5l(12gal) fuel tank; 820x120 beaded edge tyres, centre-lock Rudge wheels to 1925 then 32x4.5SS rims.
PERFORMANCE maximum speed 144.5kph (90mph), 160kph (100mph) guaranteed when stripped for racing; 44.9kph (28mph) @ 1000rpm; acceleration 0-60mph, 17 secs; 19kg/kW (14kg/bhp); fuel consumption 15.7l/100km (18mpg).
PRODUCTION 312.
PRICE chassis 1923 £1020, later £950

The 1930-1932 T and T80 was a derivative of the 1928-1929 R-type with taller radiator, and chrome flutes. The sole Vauxhall at the beginning of 1930 the stylish Hurlingham echoing the Wensum was also a rakish 2-seater with a V-shaped windscreen and small dickey seat. It was capable of 70mph but Motor Sport was uncertain. “Third gear enables an excellent average to be put up as it gives excellent acceleration and one gets into the habit of spending a good deal of time in this gear on anything like a twisty road.” But 55mph remained about the maximum and the steering was too low geared. Testers contrasted the Hurlingham’s gentlemanly behaviour with what it called the roughness of this old school Vauxhall. Production of the 20/60 T-type probably did not continue much after 1930 but the expensive (£750 for a 1931 saloon) Silent 80 (T80) sold for a further season.

Saab 92 aerodynamics

Talking, as I have been, about manufacturers’ publicity pictures, I always liked cutaways. It’s the engineer in me. Nothing ever conveyed a car’s structure like a good graphic. The Motor road tests used to do it well, showing how the mechanical bits of a car fitted in with rather stiff-looking occupants. The Saab 92 (left), produced from 1950-1955, makes the point. You can see where the tiny engine leans forward ahead of the front wheels, which it drives, and where the radiator is mounted to catch the air-flow. The upholstery looks a bit thin and rear people have to tuck their feet below the front seat.

In 1950 they made 1246 Saab 92s, every one the same shade of green. It was more important to get production started, and eliminate bottlenecks in the paintshop, than offer buyers a range of colours. It’s said the aircraft factory had over-stocked on green paint for its aeroplanes. Modest power propelled the little car at barely 100kph (60mph). There were only three gears and reaching 50mph occupied the best part of half-a-minute. It scarcely mattered; there was no shortage of customers in 1950.

Although slow, the Saab had clear-cut qualities. Encouraged by the success 2-stroke DKWs had in Sweden before the war it went for an engine cheap to make and simple. A parallel twin-cylinder 3-port 2-stroke of 764cc (80 x 76mm) with Schnürle scavenging, producing 24bhp at 3,800rpm, it was narrow enough to be set across the front with an aluminium head and flat-topped pistons. It had three main roller bearings, a built-up crankshaft with a pair of 180-degree-spaced crankpins, and three main bearing journals pressed into disc crankwebs. Only the small-end bearings were plain, not ball or roller. An extension from the crankshaft carried the cam for the dual-coil ignition, and lubrication was by 4 per cent oil added to the petrol.

A single-plate clutch and 3-speed gearbox, with synchromesh on third and top and a steering column gearshift, formed a unit with the engine. Engine mountings were unusual, a single transverse leaf spring supporting the forward part on rubber torque-resisting buffers, and a rubber cushion at the rear. The result was virtually vibrationless, especially at low revs.

Laurence Pomeroy, who had conducted experiments on aerodynamic cars at Brooklands in 1939, tested a 92 in 1950: “… a most interesting example of the type of car which emanates from an aircraft factory, and shows the benefits of clean lines by giving nearly 65mph (105kph) on less than 25bhp. Excellent roadholding and direct steering were also characteristic of this model, but, as is often the case with 2-strokes, the fuel consumption was not the best feature, failing to reach 40mpg (7.06l/100kms).”

Pomeroy’s advocacy of the slippery shape was only partly justified, for far from being worthy of an aircraft manufacturer, the Saab fell short of ideals laid down by German aerodynamics pioneer, Paul Jaray. Despite the classic teardrop shape, it had a thoroughly average air drag coefficient of 0.35. The bulbous front wings gave an unnecessarily large frontal area so the puny power had a lot of air to displace at 60mph (97kph). Had it been slimmer below the waistline, fuel consumption might have been better.

On the steering, however, Pomeroy was characteristically correct. The Saab’s rack and pinion took only 1.75 turns from lock to lock so it was high-geared, light, accurate and by comparison with nearly all its contemporaries (with worm and nut, cam and roller, recirculating balls, and other nightmares) sheer delight. Tactile, direct, strongly self-centring, drivers could feel road shocks but they could also feel what the wheels were doing, adding amply to the control that compensated for the car’s relative sloth.

In 1950 The Motor commented: “The Saab's layout is ingenious both in conception and in detail. Its unorthodoxy sets a reviewer a task which is difficult yet exceptionally interesting: difficult because of lack of standards for comparison, and interesting for revealing the gains and losses resulting from new layouts and construction methods.” The Motor wanted to be convinced. Its authors liked the principles Saab employed, but they were not finding the results entirely bore out their expectations.

It says something for the speed expected of a 1940s small car that they observed: “The surprise comes in experiencing the power. The car is fast, but what distinguishes it is acceleration in top gear in the vital 15-45mph speed range, which would not disgrace a car of twice the engine size.” There were doubts about refinement: “The Saab lacks the smoothness and silence which the average baby car has acquired between 1940 and 1950.”

The problem of stiffness around a boot lid aperture was solved by not having one on the 92. Access to luggage was through the rear seat. The smooth underside had stiffening ribs and box-section sills, its flat profile a great boon on loose, gritty Swedish roads while the designers concentrated the strength of the body in the middle. The burden of suspension loads were fed into the strong central structure by mounting the front torsion bars in the forward scuttle with tubular bolsters. Torsion bars for the trailing arm independent rear suspension were well forward of the rear hubs, so that the length of the frame subject to suspension-induced loads was less than 85 per cent of the wheelbase.

It was a strategy adopted more than a decade later by cars as diverse as the D-Type Jaguar and the Rover 2000, both of which had stiff centre sections carrying the strain of the suspension, so that the outermost extremities of the car could be thin-skinned and light weight. Above: prototype Saab 92s. Below, later Saab 96 with in-line engine.

Publicity pictures

Scanning images for a new edition of Dove Publishing’s Audi book, which goes back to the early years of the 20th century, shows the heritage of NSU, Horch, DKW Wanderer and Audi. What pictures. Take “The greatest motorcycle factory in the world” (above) in 1930. The enterprising Dane Jörgen Skafte Rasmussen came to Saxony as a student and aged only 25 in 1903 set up Rasmussen & Ernst GmbH, boilermakers. The firm bought an empty textile works at Zschopau, and profits between 1914-1918 led to making motorcycles in this vast factory with chimneys and grandiose offices.

The 1922 Audi Type K was a 4-cylinder 3.5 litre 14/50 with an aluminium block, pressed-in liners, a ball-action gearshift and four wheel brakes. A dignified car Sebastian Vettel would approve its radiator motif, a figure 1 indicating Audi’s place in the world.

Horch went for the premium market in 1922 with its 10/35 4-cylinder engine designed by Arnold Zoller (1882-1934). Probably better remembered for his supercharger, Zoller also designed an astonishing 1464cc 12-cylinder 2-stroke racing car. The block was cast in one, the cylinders in two rows, each pair with a common combustion chamber. All the inlet ports were on the left of the engine, exhausts on the right, superchargers on top. Unfortunately it all proved too much for their inventor who died before the cars were properly developed.

Paul Daimler (1869-1945) designed this twin overhead camshaft for Horch, shown in Berlin in 1927. Gear-driven camshafts, 8-cylinders, the 3.3litre was the first in a series to secure Horch’s prestige.


Wanderer (below) was more middle-class with the 1926 W10 6/30, a modest 1551cc 4-cylinder. Its appeal was helped by a new electro-plating facility for bumpers and radiator. Side-mounted spare wheel wrapped in tidy cover.

Publicity caption for the 1971 Audi 80L (below) says “…rear part of Audi models redesigned so that it appears broader and appeals more to public. It can radiate charm and grace.” Car manufacturers’ publicity pictures. Phds have been compiled on less.

Portraits of F1

In 1967 the BRDC’s “May” Silverstone was on April 29th. A muddle on the international calendar had brought Monaco uncomfortably close, so there weren’t enough Formula 1 cars for a non-championship race at Silverstone. May was traditional for the Daily Express Trophy at a time when newspapers could afford to sponsor a Formula 1 race.
So there were no works Cooper-Maseratis or Anglo-American Eagles, and BRM, Lotus, and Ferrari could manage only one car apiece. The field was further depleted on the Wednesday before first practice, when the JA Pearce Racing Organisation transporter mysteriously caught fire. It had been parked infield on the Club Circuit with two Pearce-Martins and a Cooper-Ferrari aboard, all of which were destroyed. Tony Lanfranchi, Earl Jones and Robin Darlington were left without drives, however Pearce emerged almost unscathed. Apparently he had the lot insured for £100,000.
I was photographing drivers on the grid with my big Rollieflex, a twin lens reflex with beautiful optics. When you got everything right it took superb pictures but getting everything right meant an exposure meter and, well, it wasn’t handy. Heavy and clumsy, it used expensive 120 film, so if you weren’t getting paid a lot for pictures it was not very commercial.
Mike Parkes (above) was driving a 1966 long-chassis Ferrari, a stretched one that suited his 6ft 4in. Ferrari was trying out various cylinder heads on its V12 in 1966-1967, quad-cams, two-valve, three-valve and Parkes had a new one in which the inlet and exhaust arrangements were reversed, so instead of exhaust pipes draped over the sides like spaghetti in the slipstream, they were bundled up in the middle.
Son of Alvis’s chairman, Mike had joined Ferrari in 1963, more as a development engineer than a driver, working up the 330GTC road car, but he quickly became a leading member of the sports car team. In 1961 he had been second at Le Mans with Willy Mairesse in a 250 Testa Rossa, and was successful driving Maranello Concessionaires’ Ferraris. In 1964 he won the Sebring 12 Hours, in 1965 the Spa 500Km and the Monza 100Km, gaining his place in Formula 1 when John Surtees departed Ferrari in a huff.
Parkes drove in four grands prix in 1966, coming second at Rheims on his debut (and only his second grand prix), had two dnfs, and then was second again in the Italian Grand Prix at Monza. It was an astonishing start to what looked like a promising career. At Silverstone BRM had one H16 for Jackie Stewart, who matched Parkes in practice, and two V8s for Mike Spence and Chris Irwin. Lotus had a 2litre BRM V8 in Graham Hill’s car, a token entry while it was developing the Ford-Cosworth V8, which would make its sensational debut for Clark and Hill at Zandvoort a month later.
Parkes led almost the entire 52 laps to win the International Trophy, pursued by Jack Brabham (Brabham-Repco) and Jo Siffert in Rob Walker’s Cooper-Maserati. Stewart had kept up with him in the early stages until the BRM’s universal joint bolts sheared.

TOP Mike Parkes (1931-1977) with Tommy Wisdom (1907-1972) motoring journalist and veteran driver in 11 Le Mans races, Mille Miglia, Targa Florio and multiple Alpine and Monte Carlo rallies. In June Parkes’ grand prix career was cut short on lap 1 of the Belgian Grand Prix, when he crashed breaking both legs. He returned to sports cars, engineered the Lancia Stratos, and died in a collision on the road.
RIGHT Bruce McLaren (1937-1970) at the wheel of his McLaren-BRM V8, in which he finished 5th in the Daily Express International Trophy. Founder of McLaren Racing, he died at Goodwood in a freak accident with a Can-Am car.
BELOW Mike Spence (1936-1968) Already a veteran of four seasons’ grand prix racing, likeable talented Spence finished 6th in his BRM at Silverstone. A month after Jim Clark’s fatal accident at Hockenheim a year later, Spence took over Clark’s entry at Indianapolis and was killed in a practice accident.

BMW Z4M Coupe

What I thought about the BMW Z4M Coupe in 2006

The BMW Z3 Coupe had seemed something of an afterthought. A roof was added later to the original 2-seater, which cost a lot and ruined the proportions. It was not well thought through, although the steel top made the structure stiffer so it handled better than the open car and earned glowing reviews. Introduced at the 1997 Frankfurt Motor Show, it was distinctive, a bit quirky, very fast and ought to have had resonance yet it never really caught on.

The main reason was price. It cost twice as much as an entry level Z3. By 2006 BMW was determined not to fumble the Z4, so despite what Adrian van Hooydonk head of design said about the roof being done in the design office’s spare moments, this time it looked as though it was designed from the outset. Van Hooydonk called the Z4 Coupe a GT car shrink wrapped round two people to be “the smallest possible package that can accommodate occupants and luggage, while retaining the strong muscular stance of the roadster.” He described it as a Pocket GT.

Contentious perhaps from the country that gave us the Pocket Battleship.

The Z4 Coupe was certainly small, cramped, and except for the agile, not easy to get in and out. You could find yourself leaving a leg outside because the door did not open wide enough. “Shrink wrapping” extended to a double-bubble in the roof and while it looked pretty, the Chris Bangle origami remained contentious.

The Z4 of 2006 was a bit wide of the mark. While the Z3 Coupe was a better car for driving than the open one, the Z4 Coupe sadly never was, even with a bodyshell twice as stiff. A Z4M was fine for track days on a smooth classic racing circuit like glorious Goodwood, but in the real world of an average highway it was harsh and uncompromising. Bumps unsettled it; cambers threw it off course. Supple modern sports cars should not be so demanding.

The Z4 came from Spartanburg South Carolina, and while every bit as well made as a BMW from Munich, maybe it was designed for the wrong sort of customer. Americans expected sporty cars to be “difficult”, which was why they liked Porsches with engines overhanging the back wheels. Americans did not feel fulfilled unless they were fighting oversteer; not getting their money’s worth unless a car felt dangerous. They wanted to be James Dean fighting it out (and ultimately losing) his Porsche Speedster.

The Z4 was nothing like that, but it was not very compliant and a BMW with such a turbulent ride was an historical anomaly. In 1936 when sports cars were uncomfortable, noisy, draughty, stiffly sprung and had a chassis that twisted, BMW came out with the 328. Softly sprung, the 328 had a chassis frame of strong tubes that did not flex and bend, and was, as they would have said then, streamlined. Enthusiasts thought it effete until they tried keeping up with one. It outpaced everything. The splendid 6-cylinder engine survived into the 1960s as the Bristol, gave 100mph performance, and touring-car refinement. Even the sleek shape survived. The 1948 Jaguar XK120 of William Lyons was inspired by the 1940 Mille Miglia BMW 328.

In BMW-speak M means Motorsport and in the case of the Z4M engine it meant Magnificent. The Bavarian Motor Works has always been best at engines and this one was a masterpiece in magnesium alloy, the lightest production 6-cylinder in the world, revving to a glorious 7,900rpm, thrilling to drive. Achieving 100bhp per litre took it into the realms of racing engines, with the pistons moving at a mind-bending 24 metres per second. Those on BMW’s Formula 1 engine did 25 metres a second, although it only had to last two race weekends, while the Z4 straight-6 was expected to last something approaching a lifetime.

Alas behind this paragon of power units was a pedestrian transmission. Its long-throw 6-speed gearshift made driving a series of leaps and bounds, instead of a smooth seamless progress. It needed a shorter travel lever, less obstructive synchromesh and a quicker clutch. Perhaps Americans knew no better.

BMW said it would only bring 200 Z4Ms to Britain in a year. It was probably well advised. The ordinary non-M Z4 suffered similarly from road reverberations, making long journeys tiresome, for which the high cornering power was some recompense. The huge brakes were strong; just as well with all that power. Porsches, on balance, were better.

SPEC: Engine 6 cylinders in line, magnesium alloy, 3246 cc @ 7900rpm; 343bhp (255.8kW); 6-speed manual gearbox, Variable M differential; price £41,285; Coupe; 2-doors, 2-seats; weight 29.2cwt (1485kg); maximum speed 155mph; 0-60mph (96kph) 5.0sec; fuel consumption 12.2mpg. (Below) Test Z4M by Charles Rennie Mackintosh masterpiece, the Glasgow Art Lover's House.