MG-B
(Epson 10000 XL and the mighty MAC.)
We are in receipt of a Jockey catalog, the cover of which is pictured above.
This is probably because I’ve ordered from Jockey before; but online.
“What kind of car is that?” my wife asks.
“An MG-B,” I snap.
“What kind of challenge is that?” I think to myself.
“Pshaw!” I say; “A slam-dunk.”
The MG-B wasn’t very sophisticated; not nearly as much as the Triumph TR4-A, which had independent rear suspension.
But it handled extremely well. The Triumph, by contrast, was horrible.
“Good handling” mainly means predictability; the idea that a car can be slid without surprising you — and the fact that both ends slide at essentially the same rate; not one more than the other.
The owner of Best Motors in Rochester was rallying a TR6, an attractive six-cylinder version of the TR4-A. And he was considering swapping out its independent rear suspension for the old solid-axle rear-end of the TR4.
The six also wasn’t as gutsy as the old four in the TR4 and previously the TR3. The same motor was also in the TR4-A, except that had independent rear suspension; probably inspired by Jaguar and Corvette.
But the independent rear suspension in the Triumph was a disaster; essentially just a gimmick.
A well-located solid-axle rear-end could still handle pretty well. The MG-B was a sterling example.
It lacked independent rear suspension, but handled much better than the Triumph.
I remember “Group 44” was racing Triumphs in the SCCA. Their driver was Bob Tullius.
They raced the TR6, but to make it handle it was re-engineered into more a go-kart.
So little springing was in the rear-end, it was like a solid-axle.
Triumph’s first six was the TR250, and I had one; essentially a TR4-A, but with a six-cylinder motor.
It was awful; one of the worst cars we’ve ever had. The frame, flexible as an aluminum ladder, was slung under the rear-axle half-shafts, like the old TR3, which slung its frame under the rear solid-axle.
Hit a bump and what little compliance was there was the tires, or the rubber bump-stops. I bottomed it out many times.
My ‘72 Vega GT, the car I replaced the Triumph with, was much better. It’s rear-end was solid-axle, so it had a lot of momentum. It was well-located, but hit a bump set up hard in a corner, and the rear would jump and skitter. —But it was much better than the old TR250.
During the middle ‘70s, a young kid at my camera store was asking me which sportscar to buy. I was still driving my TR250.
“Buy an MG-B,” I told him. “They handle much better.”
My advice fell on deaf ears.
The MG-B wasn’t much of a looker; not as attractive as the Triumph GT6 or Spitfire, which is what he bought.
My wife’s girlfriend bought a Spitfire, and let me drive it.
My impression was it was so weak you had to wind the living daylights out of it to get anywhere.
The owner of Best Motors switched to rallying a Volvo two-door sedan, and now Best only sells Volvos. (My TR250 was from them, as was my wife’s girlfriend’s Spitfire.)
The Chevrolet Vega was probably the worst-engineered car General Motors ever sold.
Mine rusted to bits and disintegrated, but I still remember my first swoop onto an expressway on-ramp.
The Vega was unyielding. My TR250 would have twisted itself into a pretzel.
Labels: auto wisdom
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