It began as a “parts bin special”—cheaply developed and launched in 1994 with minimal fanfare. The first Speed Triple shared its 885cc engine and almost all other parts with other Triumph models. It looked fairly ordinary, in fact, with its low handlebars and single round headlight.

Three decades later, the Speed Triple has arguably been Triumph’s best loved model—having helped establish the firm as a maker of exciting, well-engineered bikes, and contributed hugely to its success. Revamped numerous times over the years, it has starred in Hollywood movies, frequently topped the firm’s sales chart, and spawned the hugely successful Street Triple family.

Triumph was a very different company when that original Speed Triple was developed, shortly after building magnate John Bloor had revived the brand in the late 1980s. In 1992, the new Hinckley factory’s second year of operation, it produced barely 3000 bikes (compared to almost 100,000 last year). The firm was still committed to a modular format that reduced costs by sharing most components of bikes ranging from 750cc triples to 1200cc fours.

Depending on your view, the first Speed Triple was either the existing Daytona 900 sports bike with its fairing removed, or a sportier version of the Trident 900, the naked triple that had been the most popular of the original six-model range.

The Trident’s responsive, 885cc triple engine had been much praised, but that model was a simple roadster, with conservative styling and basic suspension. By contrast, Ducati had scored a big hit with its M900 Monster in 1993 by combining a softly tuned V-twin engine with aggressive naked styling and high-quality chassis parts.

The Speed Triple followed a similar format. Its liquid-cooled, 12-valve engine produced 97 hp and, apart from having a five-speed gearbox rather than a six-speed, it was identical to the unit that powered the Trident and Daytona. The bike’s steel spine frame was also shared with the other models.

But like the Monster, the Speed Triple had superior cycle parts: adjustable Kayaba suspension from Japan and a front brake combination of big twin discs and four-piston Nissin calipers. Its cast rear wheel held a fat, sticky Michelin radial tire.

Styling was little more than stripped-down Daytona, with a single round headlight. But the retained low handlebars gave an aggressive look, highlighted by a memorable brochure image featuring a Rottweiler. And the Speed Triple name—inspired by the 1937-model Speed Twin that had been one of the former Triumph company’s greatest models—suited its café racer image perfectly.

That first Speed Triple struck a chord. Its zippy engine, responsive handling, and windblown riding position combined to give an impression of easy speed. Without a fairing and with much of its rider’s weight over the front wheel, it steered with appealing urgency and less of the top-heavy feel of other Triumphs.

After borrowing a bike from Hinckley for a test, I rode to the site of the old Ace Cafe, legendary North London haunt of the 1960s Rockers, which had become a tire depot. The leather-jacketed riders were long gone, and the traffic was much denser. But it was still fun to follow the classic lap down the North Circular Road, over the infamous Iron Bridge (scene of numerous fatal crashes), and back, just as the slick-haired Rockers did when attempting to return with a song by Gene Vincent or Eddie Cochran still playing on the juke box.

The Speed Triple was an excellent accomplice, and it proved a hit in 1994, becoming Triumph’s best-selling model—although in those early days that only meant 2683 were produced (including a small number of 750cc variants that were otherwise identical) out of a total bike production that by then had climbed past 10,000.

That was a good start, but the Speed Triple’s stroke of inspiration was still to come. By 1995, Triumph’s engineers and design team were developing the T595 Daytona—the 955cc, aluminum-framed sports triple that abandoned the modular format and would elevate the British brand to a new level of performance and sales on its launch in 1997.

In those days, much of Triumph’s development was based at the Northamptonshire workshop of John Mockett, the designer who had shaped many of the firm’s early models. At one point, while working on the Daytona, Mockett realized that the bike, with its distinctive tubular aluminum frame, looked good without its curvaceous twin-headlamp fairing.

“I said to Stuart Wood [chief development engineer] that we ought to do this without the bodywork,” recalled Mockett, who admired the aggressive streetfighter specials built by firms such as Harris Performance. “Stuart said, ‘No, we’ve got to get the 595 finished in time for the Milan show,’ so I said, ‘Okay, we’ll work on it in the other shed and see what we can do.’ John Bloor was always down there but we kept this thing secret from him.”

A few months later, Bloor arrived to inspect the finished Daytona T595. “We’d painted it and added decals by then and he said it looked alright—in fact he was very pleased. Then I said, ‘I’ve got this other one,’ and uncovered the naked bike. He looked at it and said, ‘F***ing hell, it looks like it’s been crashed!’”

The Triumph boss’s instinctive reaction summed up the naked triple’s appeal. The previous decade had seen the emergence of a biking subculture, especially in Britain, where Streetfighters magazine had become popular, highlighting the urban look that had grown up initially around twin-headlight Suzuki GSX-R750 and 1100 sports bikes whose fairings had been removed following a crash.

At that time, no major manufacturer had a model with comparable style. Bloor took some persuasion, but decided to put the naked triple into production alongside the Daytona. “He was so pleased with the Daytona that he accepted the other one on the back of it,” Mockett later recalled. “If it had been on its own he’d have turned it down, but the fact that it was on the coat-tails of the 595 appealed to him, because it didn’t need many extra bits.”

This new Speed Triple, initially codenamed T509 (until, like the Daytona’s T595, this was found to cause confusion), retained its predecessor’s 885cc capacity but gained a new bottom end, intake system, and exhaust. It produced 106 hp, with strong midrange torque. The aluminum frame was identical to the Daytona’s except for being painted instead of lacquered, and it held similarly high-quality suspension, brakes, and a single-sided swingarm.

As with the original Speed Triple, Triumph introduced it with minimal fanfare, almost as an afterthought. I was one of two freelance journalists allowed to ride a T509 that was brought along to the T595 Daytona’s riding launch in Spain. A blast on local roads and on the Circuito de Cartagena race track confirmed that it had an addictive midrange punch, and that its handling, braking, and roadholding were excellent.

The T509 Speed Triple’s 1998 arrival was perfectly timed, its price was competitive, and it was an immediate hit, selling almost 2500 units to become Triumph’s second-most popular model, behind the Daytona. And its success proved lasting, helped by Triumph’s decision to enlarge the engine to 955cc in 1999.

By the turn of the millennium, the Speed Triple had become a cult model, its bullish style and performance highlighting that Triumph was now a serious player in the motorcycle scene. It was boosted by vibrant paint schemes, including an acidic Roulette Green and even more corrosive Nuclear Red (in reality a bold pink, as ridden by Natalie Imbruglia in the movie Johnny English). Speed Triple appearances in The Matrix (ridden by Carrie-Anne Moss) and Mission: Impossible 2 (Tom Cruise) also boosted Triumph’s profile.

The firm did a good job of keeping the Triple’s essential look and character intact, while updating it every so often. One significant step came in 2002, when its output rose by 10 hp, to 118 hp, and its chassis was tweaked to quicken the steering and reduce weight. I also rode that model to the site of Ace Cafe, which, fittingly, had recently reopened as a nostalgia-themed motorcyclists’ meeting place; it continues to thrive to this day.

Another major update came in 2005, when a new, longer-stroke 1050cc engine increased maximum output to 128 hp. A new chassis contributed to a quicker, more agile bike that topped Triumph’s sales charts that year, with 8796 out of a total of almost 35,000. In 2011, Triumph was sufficiently confident to combine a sharpened chassis with non-round headlights—a controversial move that did not damage sales as some had predicted.

By this time, Triumph had ceased production of the Daytona 955i, leaving the Speed Triple as the firm’s sporting flagship. For 2012, the new Speed Triple R combined an unchanged, 133-hp engine with an upmarket chassis incorporating Öhlins suspension, Brembo Monobloc  brake calipers, and a sprinkling of carbon fiber. It was exotic, expensive, and took the trademark Speed Triple blend of naked style and punchy performance to new heights.

Triumph was now facing a dilemma, as the arrival of Aprilia’s Tuono V4R sparked a new class of fierce “hyper-naked” machines: stripped-down superbikes created in similar fashion to the original Speed Triple but producing over 150 hp and backed by sophisticated electronics. The challenge was to keep the Speed Triple competitive, without losing its familiar charm and accessibility.

Triumph took a sizable step in 2018, with an overhauled Speed Triple whose 1050cc engine contained more than 100 new parts, revved 1000 rpm higher, and produced 148 hp, an increase of 10 hp. Alongside the standard model was an upmarket RS version with Öhlins suspension and a sophisticated electronics package incorporating traction control and cornering ABS.

Three years later came an even bigger leap, with an all-new Speed Triple 1200RS. Its engine was enlarged to 1160cc and produced 178 hp—slightly up on Aprilia’s latest Tuono, if not on Ducati’s outrageous 205 hp Streetfighter V4. This RS was also sharper and 22 pounds lighter, helped by a new aluminum frame.

Not every Speed Triple enthusiast was a fan of the new lean and mean naked superbike, or of the stylish, half-faired Speed Triple 1200RR that shares most parts and is even more aggressive and expensive. That’s not surprising. Both models have more than double the power-to-weight ratio of the Speed Triple that started the family 30 years ago.

The Speed Triple is a different class of motorbike now. Its evolution has taken it away from the raw, streetwise, firmly road-focused models of the past. These days, even the middleweight Street Triple 765R makes 120 hp—more than the T509 that did the most to earn the Speed Triple’s cult following back in 1997.

All of which means that the Speed Triple’s days at the top of Triumph’s sales charts are probably gone for good. Its status as one of the Hinckley firm’s most important and fondly regarded models, on the other hand, remains beyond doubt.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post The Triumphant Speed Triple appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did not invent the modern mystery—that’d be Edgar Allen Poe—but he did create the genre’s most beloved character. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, first appeared before the turn of the twentieth century, and he has since become so interwoven with popular culture as to have his name crop up in a rather rude phrase when someone says something obvious (you know what it is, Sherlock, I just can’t print it here). He has appeared in tens of thousands of adaptations, from the theater to television, to say nothing of the other characters he inspired, ranging from a cartoon mouse to a very grumpy physician. But there is a case yet to be solved: What kind of motorcycle did Sherlock Holmes ride?

And yes, he would surely have had a motorcycle. His arrival in 1887’s A Study In Scarlet neatly lines up with the debut of the Daimler-Maybach Reitwagen, an early prototype motorcycle, just two years before. And, although Doyle killed off his popular detective one year before the first series production motorcycle emerged – the 1894 Hildebrant & Wolfmüller – he was brought back by popular demand and the last story was published in 1927. Watson, the game is afoot!

Our first clue, and indeed the entire reason for this thought experiment, concerns the life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself. Because the only thing the most famous detective novelist of all time liked more than getting hoodwinked by spiritualists was riding motorcycles. He was an early adopter, and was filled with such enthusiasm for two-wheeled transportation that he financed his own motorcycle company and took place in hillclimbs.

Racing around on juddering early motorcycles seems a little at odds with Sir Arthur’s later public persona, which has a whiff of tweedy walrus about it. But in the early 1900s, he was just into his 40s and joined one of England’s earliest auto-cycle clubs. The company he financed was Roc of Birmingham, which built bikes right up until the Great War.

Using some inductive reasoning, we can thus uncover our first fact: As a booster of the domestic industry, the creator of Sherlock Holmes would have chosen a British steed for his hero to ride. It might even have been tempting for Sir Arthur to place Holmes on a Roc. However, our modern understanding of Sherlock was not shaped by Conan Doyle alone.

Enter the actor and playwright who portrayed Sherlock Holmes almost more times than any other—and it is not, as you perhaps assume, Basil Rathbone. Rathbone did quite well, playing Sherlock Holmes first in 1939’s The Hound of the Baskervilles, and going on to appear in some 14 movies. With respect, those are rookie numbers, because Connecticut-born William Gillette portrayed Holmes some 1300 times over 33 years.

If you’ve ever watched a Sherlock Holmes movie or TV series, then you have Gillette to thank for it, because he was instrumental in both resurrecting Holmes and bringing him to the stage. Born in 1853, he was nearly the same age as Conan Doyle, and was an established and respected playwright when he was approached in 1899 to help adapt a draft play written by Sir Arthur. Incredibly, both the original and Gillette’s adaptation were destroyed in a hotel fire, and he re-wrote the entire thing in just a month.

When he met Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for the first time, Gillette was dressed as Sherlock, cape to deerstalker hat. Doyle was stunned until Gillette approached, whipped out a magnifying glass, and declared, “Unquestionably an author!” The pair became longtime friends.

Gillette is credited with adding or popularizing some of the classic Holmes characteristics, including the deerstalker hat, the curved pipe, the magnifying glass, and even the phrase, “Elementary, my dear Watson.” Two other actors would beat his number of stage appearances eventually, but they were acting in the play he wrote.

And, like Conan Doyle, William Gillette was also a committed and enthusiastic motorcyclist. Widowed in 1888 (he never remarried) he lived in a sprawling Connecticut mansion called Gillette Castle with up to 17 cats and several bikes. Thanks to official traffic records, we know that he crashed twice, once on a rare American Ner-a-car feet-forward bike, at the age of 72. He survived this crash and even talked his way out of a ticket with a quip: “To be reckless is to be thoughtless and I never thought so quick in my life.”

But, fellow sleuths, it was Gillette’s other motorcycle that is the key to our mystery. Because it was a Triumph, and that’s the little clue that’ll crack this case wide open.

Triumph is currently the UK’s largest motorcycle manufacturer, and its roots stretch back to 1902. In fact, the company’s first in-house–designed bike, the 1905 Triumph Gentleman’s Roadster, exactly coincides with the launch of Doyle’s short story collection The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

Some of you will now point out that, by canon, the Holmes adventures are still set in late 1800s, even after his death, disappearance, and resurrection. However, we have the examples of Gillette and Doyle, both born in the 1850s, and riding right into the early part of the 20th century—in Gillette’s case, even into the 1930s.

Further, if we fast-forward to more modern representations of Holmes and switch to deductive reasoning, the Triumph theory holds up. In the popular and well-rated BBC reboot Sherlock, the titular character rides a Triumph Thruxton 1200R, albeit briefly. Further, the actor who plays Sherlock, Benesnickt Cambersnoot, er, Bendercatch Bumperclutch—oh, you know who I mean—is also known to ride a motorcycle around London.

And in one of America’s best-loved twists on the Sherlock Holmes story, House M.D., Gregory House famously rides a Honda CBR1000R Fireblade in Repsol livery. Aha! You say, but that’s a Honda, not a Triumph. But Oxford-born Hugh Laurie’s American accent isn’t real, either. And what did Laurie buy with his first paycheque from House, M.D.? A new Triumph Bonneville.

Elementary, my dear Watsons. Of course, what kind of Triumph motorcycle Holmes bought for puttering around the Sussex Downs in his retirement is up to you. Perhaps a slightly later model with a Sturmey-Archer three-speed gearbox. But almost certainly there would be days when Sherlock Holmes would head on out to the shed early to bolt on a wicker sidecar, give the kickstarter a firm stomp, and then ride over to the local train station, there to pickup his longtime friend Watson for one more ride together.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post The Case of Sherlock Holmes’ Motorcycle appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Roadster Factory, a nearly 48,000-square-foot facility in Armagh, Pennsylvania, that was a well-known aftermarket supplier for British sports cars such as Triumphs and MGs, was declared a “total loss” after a massive fire broke out in the facility early on Christmas morning.

Around 1 a.m. on December 25, the Armagh/East Wheatfield Fire Department, in Indiana County about 55 miles east of Pittsburgh, received a call reporting a fire at the Roadster Factory facility. More than a dozen fire departments eventually arrived on the scene to help fight the blaze, which had engulfed the building. According to a report from WCCS Radio, there were some antique vehicles in the building, only a handful of which could be rescued.

The blaze raged all night long, and excavators were eventually called in to search the wreckage and help the firefighters seek out any hotspots that may have still posed a threat once the flames were quelled. “I would think we’re going to be here for 20 hours,” Armagh and East Wheatfield Township Fire Chief Tom Fry told The Tribune Democrat. “And then we’re probably going to get called back.”

According to Fry, fighting the blaze was made extra challenging because of equipment difficulties such as hoses that were springing leaks and trucks that were running low on fuel after idling for hours with no chance to replenish the tanks. Water was also scarce, according to the report from The Tribune Democrat.

The state police fire marshal has been contacted to investigate what caused the fire, according to Fry.

“It is the goal of The Roadster Factory to make it as easy as possible for our customers to drive, maintain and restore classic British sports cars for fun, for transportation, for racing, or for shows as they desire,” said the company’s website. “To this end, we stock everything from major components to nuts and bolts, and we provide free copies of parts catalogues for individual models.”

The Roadster Factory was started by the late Charles Runyan, in 1978, serving British car enthusiasts for more than four decades. Albert Runyan, the business’ current owner, declined to comment on the matter, according to The Tribune Democrat.

It’s no doubt a devastating loss for the British sports car community, and our hearts go out to Albert Runyan and his employees.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Christmas Day fire destroys prominent British-car parts supplier appeared first on Hagerty Media.

There hasn’t been a four-wheeled Triumph since the 1980s, but a glorious new concept car could change that.

British design studio Makkina has marked the brand’s 100th anniversary with a stunning speedster called the TR25 and it has done so, not just with the blessing of BMW which owns the rights to the name, but with the German firm’s technology underpinning it.

Although you’d never know it from the looks of this low-slung sports car, it’s been built on the architecture and powertrain of a BMW i3S. Carbon fiber construction makes for a very low weight and the i3’s short wheelbase and minimal overhangs make it an ideal platform to build upon. Instead of packaging room for four people inside the TR25 is all about the driver, with a fold-out jump seat hidden beneath a hard tonneau cover.

That’s pretty much the extent of the weather protection provided, as the TR25 has the tiniest of aero screens to deflect the wind. Its design is a state-of-the-art interpretation of the Land Speed Record-breaking TR2 of 1953 which reached 124.889 mph at Jabbeke in Belgium. At the time it was the fastest car in the world under two-liters, thanks in part to more streamlined styling.

In profile you can certainly see the resemblance, while at the front Makkina has even managed to incorporate a new take on Triumph’s traditional bug-eyed headlamps. At the rear a pair of striking vertical blades provide illumination.

“We’re proud of the way we have revitalised the Triumph name and thank our friends BMW Group for allowing us the honour to badge a car that not only celebrates our company’s 25^th anniversary but also 70 years of the ‘Jabbeke’ TR2 record run and 100 years of this iconic marque,” says Makkina director Michael Ani.

With a bit of tweaking to make it more practical we could easily imagine the TR25 as a competitor for the upcoming MG Cyberster—let’s hope BMW is thinking the same thing. Who’d have believed that the EV revolution would trigger the return of the Great British Roadster?

The post Triumph is back on four wheels with an MG Cyberster rival appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Bay Harbor, Michigan, looks built for a postcard. From the clear blue waters of its namesake harbor to the tidy main drag to the world-class golf course draped along the Lake Michigan shoreline, it is a little slice of summer heaven. For one weekend in late June, that main drag, the harbor, and the surrounding lawn become an automotive enthusiast’s field of dreams.

2023’s Bay Harbor Classic Car & Boat Festival featured something for every car nut: Prewar icons, British roadsters, American muscle cars, and modern supercars like the mid-engine Corvette Z06. Between the carbon fiber, polished chrome, lacquered wood, and the sun, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could have seen the twinkling from space.

While automotive eye candy was available everywhere you turned, one car had a presence like no other: A 1933 Duesenberg Model J “Sweep Panel” Dual-Cowl Phaeton owned by Bob Grooters, one of the show’s organizers. The striking two-tone red and black paint, paired with pristine whitewall tires and loads of sparkling metalwork, set off the monolithic lines of this art deco star.

No matter how many images you pore over on Google, no combination of pixels can convey the majesty of a Duesenberg in real life. There’s a certain scale to the car in person that gets lost in even the most artful photos. When I stood next to the driver’s seat and looked down the front of the car, I was shocked by how far away that angular hood ornament sat.

The brash grandeur of dinner plate-sized headlights and an engine cover that could double as a canoe somehow balance perfectly with subtle flourishes like the contoured metalwork atop the grille and the brushed aluminum of the instrument panel cover. The sumptuous cabin felt like the perfect perch for the industry magnates who bought these cars new. Witness a car like this, and the seven-figure price tags Duesenbergs routinely command at auction suddenly make sense.

The ’33 Model J wasn’t even the only Duesenberg at the show; there were two others. There was also a 1935 Duesenberg SJN, a special Model J car that combined the supercharged Lycoming straight-eight engine from the SJ with the lower, wider Rollston bodywork of the JN. This white-over-black example is one of just four Rollston-bodied cars, and it’s the only one with the factory-supercharged Lycoming straight-eight. The other Duesy was a 1934 Model J four-door Arlington sedan by Derham in stunning black and red.

The rest of the Bay Harbour show boasted stunners from every era. A Jaguar owners club showed out in force, bringing everything from E-Types to XJs. A British car club brought out an original Mini as well as a few Austin-Healeys and Triumphs. There was a whole row of C8 Corvettes, the star of which was a white Z06 70th Anniversary model.

At one point, an Amphicar even puttered right through the harbor and up the boat ramp onto the main street. That harbor housed plenty of classic wooden boats, the star of which was a massive cruiser that goes by the name Pilgrim. On the lawn of a restaurant that abuts the harbor sat a collection of soap-box derby cars with sleek bodywork and wafer-thin wheels, celebrating a bygone era of mechanical ingenuity.

Up the main drag were a few German stars like a Porsche 356 Coupe and a BMW Z3 M Coupe, more affectionately known as a “Clownshoe.” A Ram SRT-10 pickup sat across the way, its hood wide open to show off the Viper-sourced V-10. If you fancied more modern exotics, a few Ferraris and McLarens were just a stone’s throw away around the corner.

If you find yourself in Northern Michigan in late June of next year, be on the lookout for the Bay Harbor Classic Car & Boat Festival. The show is free to spectators and a delightful way to spend a summer Saturday, whether or not you have a car on the lawn.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post There’s nothing like seeing a Duesenberg in person appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Parallel-twin-powered bikes are currently motorcycling’s dominant force. Honda’s new Hornet and Transalp are earning rave reviews. Aprilia, BMW, Husqvarna, Kawasaki, KTM, and Royal Enfield have popular families. Fantic’s first-ever twin borrows its engine from Yamaha’s MT-07 and Ténéré, which sell by the boatload. Even the engine in Suzuki’s latest V-Strom is a parallel, not a vee.

And then there’s Triumph, which has a thriving family of parallel-twin models: Bonneville, Scrambler, and Thruxton. The brand, having just changed its Street Twin’s name to Speed Twin 900, now also has a pair of retro roadsters named after the 498cc machine that appeared through the post–Second World War gloom to begin motorcycling’s first parallel-twin era.

The Speed Twin was actually launched in 1937. It made an immediate impact, but the war’s outbreak two years later halted production. When the Triumph returned—in subtly updated form—as of 1946, it proved that two cylinders could be better than one. Triumph inspired rival firms to follow suit, thus triggering a period of parallel-twin dominance that would last for decades.

The Speed Twin’s designer, Triumph’s charismatic boss Edward Turner, outlined the advantages of the bike’s engine in typically forthright fashion. “It will run at higher revolutions than a single [cylinder] of similar capacity without unduly stressing major components,” he said. “The engine gives faster acceleration, is more durable, easier to silence, and better cooled. In every way it is a more agreeable engine to handle.”

Few disagreed after riding the Speed Twin. Its top speed, just over 90 mph, was matched by some singles, but none could match the effortless way the Speed Twin could cruise at 70 mph. The pushrod-operated engine, which had a 360-degree firing arrangement (pistons rising and falling together), was softly tuned, with a maximum output of 28 hp at 6000 rpm. Although there was some vibration, by single-pot standards the engine was smooth.

Turner had recently arrived from Ariel, where he had designed the glamorous Square Four, after that firm had taken over Triumph. He announced himself by revamping Triumph’s single-cylinder range of 500-, 350-, and 250cc models with fresh styling and catchy new names: Tiger 90, 80, and 70.

Turner’s rare talents for marketing and styling were again evident in the Speed Twin’s evocative name and handsome lines. The Twin’s lean, simple look was not misleading. It used essentially the same frame and forks as the Tiger 90, was actually slightly lighter than the 500 single, and its engine was slightly narrower.

It was the Speed Twin’s performance, though, that sent the testers of the day into rapture. “On the open road the machine was utterly delightful,” reported The Motor Cycle. “Ample power was always available at a turn of the twist-grip, and the lack of noise when the machine was cruising in the seventies was almost uncanny.” The magazine managed a two-way average of 93.7 mph and a “truly amazing” one-way best of 107.

The journalist from rival magazine Motor Cycling was similarly enthusiastic in a January 1946 review. After collecting a Speed Twin from Triumph’s base at Meriden, near Coventry, where the factory had been rebuilt since being damaged by German bombs, he headed southwest, towards Cheltenham, searching out twisty roads where the bike’s handling could be tested.

The Speed Twin did not disappoint, judging from the glowing report: “How can mere writing express that sense of mastery, that sympathy with the machine, that exhilarating impression of complete control which a healthy engine, hair-fine steering and super-adequate braking can combine to inspire?” He then took the Triumph for an off-road ride, where it again impressed.

My own Speed Twin test ride kept to the road and was distinctly brief in comparison, but I found it easy to appreciate the Triumph’s performance and light, easy handling.

This bike was standard, apart from handlebars that curved back slightly more than the originals. As a 1946 model it featured the telescopic forks that had been fitted that year, in place of the original girder design. Other post-WWII upgrades included a larger, four-gallon fuel tank and new magneto ignition.

The Triumph felt like a period piece: I heaved it off the tricky rear-wheel-mounted center-stand, tickled the tiny, unfiltered Amal carburetor to get the petrol flowing, and gave a light kick to fire up the motor. The sound from the twin pipes was a lovely, mellow purr as I blipped the throttle. First gear went in with a graunch, but the controls were light, and once I was under way the right-foot gearchange was precise.

It didn’t take long to discover why so many riders had taken to the Speed Twin. Its half-liter motor was impressively smooth almost all the way through its rev range. The Triumph was enjoyably eager for such an old bike, its effortless low-rev response helped make it easy to ride, and vibration was not an issue at up to 60 mph.

The Twin also handled well, at least for a bike with a hard-tail (read: unsuspended) rear end. At 368 pounds with fuel, the Triumph was light even by modern middleweight standards, and its ultra-low and sprung saddle helped make control effortless. Its brakes were reasonably efficient, too, despite being simple drums.

The Triumph’s telescopic forks were hydraulically damped, intended to give extra rear-wheel grip on bumpy road surfaces, compared to the girders, and to improve feel of the front end. Despite the lack of rear suspension, the Twin handled fine on reasonably smooth surfaces.

Even comfort was reasonable, thanks to the sprung saddle. Triumph introduced an optional sprung-hub rear suspension system two years later, in 1948, but it was disliked by many riders: It tended to make the bike weave.

The Speed Twin, by contrast, remained hugely popular for years, as did its sportier Tiger 100 derivative, whose extra power raised top speed to 100 mph. In 1950 Triumph added the Thunderbird, with its bigger, 650cc engine, in an attempt to stay ahead of rival firms who by now had twins of their own. The format would continue to dominate until the ’70s, when Japanese firms took over with their more powerful, smoother, and better engineered fours.

And now parallel twins are back at the top of the sales charts. These engines cost less to produce than fours, triples, V-twins, or boxers. Many power fine bikes, offering adequate performance and balancer-shaft smoothness, plus added character from irregular firing orders. But they’ll never match the impact of Triumph’s original, which transformed motorcycling in a way that only a select handful of bikes have done.

1946 Triumph Speed Twin

Highs: Sweet power delivery, easy handling

Lows: Easy to drop, when trying to use the center stand

Summary: An all-time great that still rides beautifully.

—

Price: Project: $8800; nice ride, $12,300; showing off, $15,800

Engine: Air-cooled parallel twin

Capacity: 498 cc

Maximum power: 28 hp @ 6000 rpm

Weight: 368 pounds with fluids

Top speed: 95 mph

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

Via Hagerty UK

The post Triumph’s Speed Twin transformed postwar motorcycling appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Some of the oldest motorcycles in British two-wheeled history were seen only in small numbers when new in the U.S. As the United Kingdom ramped up production to pay off its burdensome World War II debt, eager Americans, flush with cash, were ready to purchase the latest offerings. The late 1940s and 1950s were boom years for most U.K. manufacturers.

Brough Superior

George Brough, creator of the great Brough Superior brand, was justifiably proud that his line of machines was hailed as the “Rolls-Royce of Motorcycles.” The cheeky young George’s father had been building Brough motorcycles for years, but George wanted higher performance with better components, so he audaciously called his machines Brough Superior. BS used a variety of engines depending on the client’s intended usage. The SS80, the Super Sports, used either a J.A.P. (John Alfred Prestwich, more commonly known as J.A. Prestwich, manufacturers of motorcycle engines for many brands from 1902 onward) or Matchless side-valve V-twin, but the ultimate model of the marque is undoubtedly the SS100.

The SS100 Alpine Grand Sport featured an overhead valve version of the J.A.P. engine, capable of 100 miles per hour. This speed was attested to following a test ride by the factory technicians, who painstakingly assembled each machine twice to ensure accuracy of component fit and performance.

It would take a movie about an unlikely war hero with a penchant for speed to put the Brough Superior in proper perspective and save it in our collective memories. T.E. Lawrence, better known as Lawrence of Arabia, had a love affair with his Brough motorcycles, including the SS100 on which he met his demise. Lawrence’s postwar life, including his passion for his motorcycles, can be seen in his book The Mint. His first Brough was named George. Then he purchased George II, III, IV, V, VI, and VII. He also referred to his Broughs as Boanerges or sometimes Boa, meaning Sons of Thunder. On these machines, Lawrence raced biplanes and trains. Surely the stuff of legends.

Vincent

When Philip Vincent’s father provided the funding to purchase the recently defunct HRD company in 1928, young upstart Philip set out to build the fastest, most glamorous motorcycle made at the time. He soon rivaled the much-vaunted Brough Superior by offering similar performance at a lower cost. Vincent knew good marketing, too, as the company brochure featured a striking illustration of the 1000-cc Series A Rapide Twin streaking across the page with a beautiful woman and sporting gentleman making good time on the handsome beast. Clarity of purpose and confidence can be felt through the ad copy: “Designed by enthusiasts for the discriminating rider” and “The world’s fastest standard motorcycle. This is a fact, not a slogan.”

American Rollie Free, wearing just a bathing suit, bathing cap, and borrowed sneak-ers, rode John Edgar’s Vincent Black Lightning prototype to a record 150.313 mph at the Bonneville Salt Flats on September 13, 1948. That photo of Rollie Free on the speeding Vincent is perhaps the most iconic image in all of motorcycling. Prewar Vincent HRDs are solid blue-chip collectibles, with the best of the big twins approaching $500,000 due to scarcity, desirability, and quality of construction. A postwar Vincent, such as the aforementioned Bathing Suit Bike, sold for a reported $1.1 million in 2010.

AJS

A.J. Stevens and Co., better known as AJS, was established in the pre–World War I period. Its success at the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy course led to the slogan “AJS, Racebred Motor Cycles,” which was often seen in their sales brochures. Facing financial difficulties in the 1930s, AJS was acquired by AMC, Associates Motorcycles, in 1938. It would produce its most iconic models in the early post–World War II era. Winning the inaugural 500-cc FIM World Championship in 1949 with Rod Coleman riding the innovative E90S “Porcupine” was the high-water mark for the brand. The Porcupine name came about because of the spike-like fins on the cylinders that aided cooling. AJS followed this up with the E-95, a three-valve “Triple Knocker” sporting a huge saddle fuel tank until 1954. This machine offered sophisticated design elements but was plagued with mechanical issues. Its on-track rival, Norton, used a double-overhead-cam single-cylinder engine to power its “featherbed”-framed Manx model, with the brilliant Geoff Duke riding one to a 500-cc World Championship in 1950.

Norton

Speaking of Norton, James Lansdowne Norton, or “Pa,” as he was known to his employees, scored some early success at the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy races with rider Rem Fowler in 1907 on a Peugeot-powered twin. From that point, it was single-cylinder engines that were most frequently associated with the marque’s racing successes for the next 50 years. Norton produced various production racers in limited numbers for years after that, such that nearly all the great racers of the 1950s and ’60s rode a Manx Norton model. The Nortons sponsored by John Player tobacco that Peter Williams rode in the 1970s utilized a Cosworth design and eventually rotary engines.

In the final years of production, Norton made a very alluring John Player Norton Commando for street use. It may have been no faster than its more pedestrian siblings, but it sure looked the part. One need only glance at the JPS livery and Union Jack flag on the tail section to identify it as a quintessentially British product of its time.

BSA

BSA, once the world’s largest producer of motorcycles, created the exquisite and versatile Gold Star model based on its exploits on the racetracks of England, particularly at Brooklands. In one last splash of glory before its bankruptcy, BSA sent a fleet of the best riders in the world to the famous Daytona Speedway in Florida armed with their Rocket III triples, taking a win there in 1971 with rider Dick Mann.

Triumph

Triumph is the brand that comes to mind first when thinking of British motorcycles. Although the company was founded by a German, Siegfried Bettmann, its home was in Coventry, England. Triumph made tens of thousands of single-cylinder motorcycles for the First World War, but it was the addition of the brilliant Edward Turner that helped birth the 500-cc Triumph Speed Twin in 1937. Triumph would become synonymous with parallel twin-cylinder engines from that moment on. While some might think of a late 1960s Bonneville as the epitome of classic Brits, its roots can be traced back to the prewar Speed Twin design. Notably, the Bonneville model was named to capitalize on the success of Texas-based Johnny Allen, who piloted a modified Triumph Thunderbird–powered streamliner called The Texas Cee-Gar to 214 mph on the Bonneville Salt Flats in 1956.

Americans were already worshiping at the altar of Triumph after the 1953 American film The Wild One, whose main character Johnny Strabler, played by Marlon Brando, rode a Triumph Thunderbird. The film was banned in the U.K. until 1968 due to its anti-authority storyline.

Ariel

British marque Ariel, founded in 1898 to produce motorized tricycles (not unlike the popular De Dion–powered models), catered to the well-heeled as well as the sportsman. Ariel hit its stride in the 1930s with the Red Hunter, a single-cylinder 350-cc; twin-cylinder, 500-cc machines, and the 1000-cc “Square Four,” which was launched in 1931 and went on to sell more than 15,500 units before its demise. This clever design sprang from the fertile mind of Edward Turner. It was, in essence, a pair of parallel twins with geared central flywheels, two transverse crankshafts, and a monoblock cylinder head. The continual evolution of the model saw the initial rigid frame with girder-style forks give way to plunger rear suspension and telescopic front forks. The original hand shift was eventually replaced by a foot-change gearbox, too. By the late 1950s, the brand had fallen on hard times and gambled its future on the more modern two-stroke range which included the ill-fated Leader and Arrow. It was a sad ending for what was once proclaimed to be “The World’s Most Exclusive Motor Cycle,” a reference to its Square Four model.

Veloce

Veloce Ltd. of Hall Green in Birmingham, England, was a family concern that made a comparatively modest quantity of motorcycles over its lengthy history. Veloce’s breakthrough model was the lightweight Velocette, launched in 1914. As a result of the name recognition, the motorcycles produced by Veloce would be known collectively as Velocette regardless of the type.

After World War I, some advanced four-stroke engineering by the young Percy Goodman, son of founder John Goodman (née Johannes Gutegmann of Oberwinter, Germany), would change the company’s trajectory. His overhead valve, 350-cc single-cylinder engine would be the genesis of roadsters and racers for years to come. Other innovations from Velocette included positive stop foot-change shifting and swinging-arm rear suspension. The ultimate double-overhead-cam 350 racer was the KTT. It won the first-ever F.I.M. 350-cc World Championship in 1949 with Freddie Frith and repeated the feat in 1950 with Bob Foster.

In its final form, the KTT Mark VIII featured Oleo Air rear shocks with Webb Girder front forks and overhead cams. Production of this over-the-counter production racer lasted from 1938 to 1950. After that, it was road-based equipment like the Viper, the Venom Clubman, and the 500-cc Thruxton models that kept the flame burning until the firm’s bankruptcy in 1970.

Britten

While geographically far from mainland England, New Zealand is part of the Commonwealth and shares enough DNA to be considered part of the United Kingdom for our purposes. New Zealander John Britten, although challenged with dyslexia, became an architectural designer and engineer, eventually turning his talents to racing motorcycle design. His eponymously named masterpiece, the Britten V1000, was launched in 1991. The innovative design made extensive use of carbon-fiber and Kevlar materials to form the bodywork, forks, swingarm, and wheels. It was powered with a double-overhead cam, 1000-cc liquid-cooled V-Twin engine and was immediately on par with other manufacturers’ factory efforts at the Battle of the Twins races around the globe. Just 10 Britten V1000 motorcycles were built between 1991 and 1998. John Britten died of inoperable skin cancer in 1995, robbing the world of a charismatic genius with a penchant for speed and style.

The British motorcycle industry went into a tailspin in the early 1970s that resulted in the closure of nearly all motorcycle manufacturing. It seemed all was lost until Englishman John Bloor relaunched the Triumph brand in 1983. However, nostalgia is a funny thing, and just as it fueled the comeback of cars such as the Volkswagen New Beetle and the Mini Cooper, Triumph found that the public wanted a machine that looked like the classic Bonneville. Carrying all the modern conveniences and reliability, they built a worthy successor to carry that name forward. Triumph’s rebirth has been followed by new motorcycles from Royal Enfield, Brough Superior, Matchless, Norton, and most recently BSA.

Anglophiles unite—our beloved Brits are back!

Motorcycles: Best of Britain is one of 20 classes to be featured at the 2023 Greenwich Concours d’Elegance, on June 2–4, 2023. Download the 2023 Greenwich Concours d’Elegance event program to learn more about Sunday’s other featured classes, Saturday’s Concours de Sport, our judges, sponsors, nonprofit partners, 2022 winners and more! 

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters. 

The post These 9 bike brands are the best of Britain appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In the 1970s, my collector-car aspirations didn’t bother with classified ads or dealerships. Instead I applied hunter-gatherer tactics, or perhaps more humbly, scrounging. Enter a certain 1964 Triumph TR4A, spied in 1978 in an alley in Seal Beach, California, and purchased for $600.

Its maladies included low compression and worn rear wheel-hub splines, creatively shimmed with feeler-gauge blades by the previous owner. Luckily, Los Angeles still had viable wrecking yards, and visiting one in Compton produced a pair of useful hubs for $15. Once installed, the TR4A not only started and ran, it drove.

The Triumph’s original British Racing Green paint sprouted rust where the fenders joined the center body section, so a driveway respray was in order. But when I asked for BRG at the automotive paint store, the clerk mixed up an eye-popping chartreuse. I sprayed one fender this way before a friend interceded. “You do not want a tree-frog green Triumph,” he said. I agreed and forked over $40 for another gallon of the expensive, but correct, stuff.

Scroungers may find vehicles … or vessels … needing rescue at any time. Soon, my buddy found a banana-yellow Hobie 14 catamaran and trailer, which we split for $950. Summer was shaping up, and clearly the newfound Triumph, boat, and I needed adventure. This required building a scrap-metal trailer hitch at Vintage Racing Services, where I worked at the time. Surprisingly, the Triumph towed the lightweight Hobie all right.

Droning along Highway 395 toward Lake Tahoe, all it took was a glance at the mast soaring above the car to confirm that the boat was still attached. Later, in the hot desert, the temperature gauge climbed as the worn engine burned through its oil; I only had to add three quarts over 450 miles to see us through.

After a long day aboard a slow train, old Kingsbury Grade awaited us on the California-Nevada border. Defined by steep inclines and many switchbacks, climbing it in a little old 104-hp car while towing a boat proved a challenge as the blacktop reached 7375 feet. At the summit, the Triumph’s humble tractor mill was so starved for oxygen that it could barely sustain 15 mph. Not to be outdone, the charge light soon illuminated, and the TR stumbled into the Tahoe Basin hot, wheezing, and running on total-loss electrics.

Compared to battling the Triumph through the desert and mountains, sailing the little yellow Hobie on the lake, which Mark Twain called “the fairest picture the whole world affords,” was pure bliss. Except, naturally, one hull leaked terribly.

It’s a wonder no one drowned.

***

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it. To get our best stories delivered right to your inbox, subscribe to our newsletters.

The post Triumph as Tow Rig: Strange sight in ’78 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

There’s nothing quite like an unassuming car that can leave high-power metal for dead at a stoplight. “Sleeper” cars are just plain old fun—unless you’re the one left staring at the taillights unexpectedly.

Last week, we asked you to shout out your favorite sleeper cars of all time. Nobody mentioned the 1994–96 Chevy Impala SS explicitly, but that would be our vote. Nonetheless, your responses covered an incredible range of vehicles across all decades and makes. This was a lot of fun to comb through. We grabbed an oodle of your responses for this story, but if the one you’re thinking of didn’t make the list, let us know in the comments.

We have a lot to cover, so let’s hop right in.

Late Model Pontiacs

Be it front- or rear-wheel drive, the final days of Pontiac gave us more than one “sleepy” way to enjoy LS V-8 power. Oh, and the sistership Chevrolet SS, which absolutely deserves to be on this list.

@George: 2008/2009 Pontiac G8 GT. I’ve owned my 2008 since new and to this day almost nobody knows what it is. Thank God for Google. The 2006 GTO was also severely underrated for sure.

@Glenn: I’ll second that. I’ve owned an ’09 G8 GT for several years. Only the most die hard gear heads actually know what it is and what it is capable of. Most people think it’s just another FWD 6 cylinder 4 door typical of what GM has put out for years. What the unwashed masses do not know is that this rebadged Holden Commodore SS has more in common with a Camaro SS than it does a G6/Malibu/Impala.

@jal11180: Chevrolet SS – perhaps the most underrated SS vehicle that Chevrolet had made, even more so than the Cobalt SS, HHR SS, this badge swapped Holden Commodore was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

@Bill: 2007 Pontiac Grand Prix in silver with the GXP badges removed. Totally invisible!

@MJ: I’ll say the new GTO. LS motor in a Cavalier body? Yeah, that would catch you off guard.

Volvo Turbos/V-8 Swap

Whether it’s the stock turbocharged versions or the V-8 swapped monsters that occasionally surface, Volvos in all shapes and sizes make for great sleepers.

@Tim: Somebody help me with the exact model. I remember there was a Volvo wagon that was quite the performer for it’s time. I can’t recall if it was a late ’80s or ’90s model. I know there have been later higher-performing Volvos, but this one I’m thinking of was definitely a sleeper.

@Mike: Tim, I think you’re referring to a 740 Turbo…

@David: The Volvo wagons Paul Newman and Letterman had. The slowest vehicle I have ever driven was a Volvo wagon, those should have surprised anyone.

@Vijay: How about the unassuming, Volvo 850R wagon?

Turbo Chryslers

Quite frankly, I was surprised at all the recognition the turbo Chryslers garnered from our question. Surprised, but very thankful indeed:

@Johnathan: The Dodge Omni GLH Turbo, and even more so, the Shelby GLHS version. These cars looked like econoboxes (which they were at their core), but would outrun almost any contemporary vehicle … at least up to 100 mph.

@My Kismet: The ultimate sleeper would have to be the 1992 Dodge Spirit R/T in Silver. The 91 & 92 Spirit R/T were all sleepers but the red or white wheels on red or white cars made them stand out a little. But the only other physical difference was a tiny trunk spoiler. So these cars and especially the Silver 92 (only 30 made) looked mostly like every other grocery getting Spirit. But they were the quickest production car when it came out in 1990. I had one and even by today’s standards you wouldn’t be shamed by most cars on the road. Back then it was scary quick.

@Norm:  I’ll go along with Carroll Shelby’s favorite Q-Ship (in fact he said it was his favorite Shelby-produced vehicle of all time): the 1986 Shelby GLHS Omni Turbo. A blacked-out 4-door little bottle rocket that was in the top 5 quickest mass-produced cars in the world (not just the US) for that model year. I refer you to the April 1986 cover story of Hot Rod Magazine, “Shelby GLHS Whips GT350” at the race track.

@DUB6: We owned a 1988 Chrysler LeBaron GT Turbo Coupe once, and although it was a little fancier-looking than your ordinary K-car, it was an absolute bullet when your foot ticked that turbo into action. I surprised plenty of Mustangs with it.

@Cason: I feel the Spirit R/T deserves a spot on the list. Sure, it was a performance variant with delightfully 90s color-keyed wheels; but essentially no one knew about it and, well, it was Dodge Spirit and maybe slightly understated vs. a Galant VR-4 (which is always worth a look).

@Gary: How about the first generation Chrysler minivans with the turbocharger and 5 speed manual trans?

Turbocharged HHR and PT Cruisers

We always remember the HHR and PT Cruiser as fashion statements that fell out of favor almost as quickly as they rose to popularity, but they also had a sleepy side:

@hyperv6: The best that I have owned was my HHR SS. I added the GM tune that pushed boost to 23 PS1 and power to 300 hp and torque 315 lb-ft. I just loved the time a Mustang next to me took off and I was door handle to door handle with him. The next light he rolled down the window and said, “how are you doing that?”

@David: So true about the HHR SS. I’ve thought of mine (owned for 14 years) as a sleeper, because the ‘SS’ moniker back in the day was so sadly abused, it wasn’t taken seriously. I enjoy surprising the unsuspecting out in the twisties when they try to keep up. Nurburgring indeed…

@Zoey: I drive a 2005 Chrysler PT Cruser 2.4 Turbo GT. Surprise! It is a sleeper. I love this car and I am 73 years old.

@Gary: Like the turbo Chrysler Minivans, another good one is the PT Cruiser turbo 5-speed.

Sneaky V-8s from GM

General Motors made a lot of sleepers that aren’t easy to pigeonhole, so we just put them in a singular category of “sneak” for this article:

@DUB6: I had a ’56 Chevy pick-up that had been a ranch truck, so it had all of the requisite dings, scratches, rust spots, dull paint, cracked side glass, and dog dish hub caps. After dropping a 325 horse 396 and 4-speed in it with 4:11 rear gears, it fooled a lot of people at the red lights downtown.

@jal11180: 1969 Chevrolet Biscayne—do you want to have a Chevrolet Chevelle SS but also lack the money to get one outright? Why not save some money and get the exact configuration of that vehicle for the fraction of the price, as in the 454 LS6 version of the Chevrolet Chevelle SS, and put that into the Chevrolet Biscayne?

@JAS 73: Many years ago, a friend of mine had a 1969 Impala station wagon with a 427 as a tow car for his drag Corvette. The only clue was an emblem on the fender.

@Walt: I have a 1966 Chevy Impala 4 door sedan. It has dog dish hubcaps and looks like a family car. However, it has the factory 396 under the hood, 4 barrel carb, and headers. Puts out about 375 horse. I have high performance tires with the lettering turned inward. Love to have little bubble cars think I am driving grandma’s car on the interstate until I open it up and…well, you know!

@EP: A pea green 427 Chevrolet Biscayne with 327 emblems!

@Darrel: There was a guy in Crawfordsville, IN “back in the day” that had an all-black 63′ Biscayne 2-door sedan base model. vinyl seats, rubber floor mats, black walls with chrome center wheel covers. The only thing that gave it away, was if you had a chance to look inside it had a 4-speed and the tach in the dash like a SS. It had a dual-quad 409 under the hood.

@jal11180: 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS Station Wagon/Estate Car—what? The Chevelle not only had a station wagon/estate car variant, but that it also had an SS package? Yes, it might not be as powerful as the 1968 to 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, but all of the options for that car could easily fit under the hood of this vehicle, but, even in this guise, there is a lot of potential for engine and transmission upgrades to honestly make the more well known variant of that vehicle look slow.

@NovaResource: Well, any “big engine” 1968+ Nova would be an SS and not a sleeper (in my opinion). But the 1966 and 1967 Chevy II 100-series 2-door sedan with the 350-hp L79 327 would absolutely be a sleeper.

@Barry: Pontiac T37… most don’t know what it is. Ask some old timers from the late 60’s, very unassuming car, I believe a 4-speed and a 455 was what it had. (Agreed. – SM)

@Ron: How about a 1963 Bonneville with 421 Super Duty? 421 cid with Tri-Power and 425 horse and a 4 speed, had a convertible. Perfect sleeper, looked like a grandma car. Ran great when I got those 3 deuces working together.

@Not Old Not Grumpy: On that note an original 62 Catalina Super Duty is the ultimate plain Jane sleeper…. Until the cutouts are unbolted!

@snailish: The 55 Pontiac Chieftain modified by Vic Hubbard (or his shop – story is murky?) with a 421 SD Pontiac engine in the early ’60s.

@Mark: A car that is a true sleeper is the late ’50’s Eldorados with the standard Dual Quad or Tri-Power set up. I owned a ’59 Eldo with the standard 390 V-8 and 3 Deuce carburation. When I floored it, the car would leap forward like it wanted to fly. No one would believe it was a stock engine.

@TG: The mid-80s 4-door Malibu came off the assembly line with V-6s or gutless V-8s. But in most cases making one with a little enhancement would make a pretty effective sleeper.

@Charles: The best sleeper I ever made was a ’72 Skylark 4 dr. with the 340 hp 400 cu.in. Pontiac engine from my wrecked ’70 Grand prix. In the early 80’s when I did that, the car was a consistent high 13 second runner. That easily outran just about anything from the factory and was such a plain wrapper that no one gave it a second look.

1987 Callaway Twin-Turbo Corvette

You could say that no Corvette is a sleeper, but how many of you think a C4 Corvette is truly special? Not enough of you, and parking one next to a 1980s Porsche 911 Turbo, Ferrari Testarossa, Lamborghini Countach, etc. back in the day would get you laughed out of the lot. Until others realize you have RPO B2K, and that means you can destroy your competition with ease:

@hyperv6: The First Callaway Corvettes were very understated. The only real external clue was a boost gauge in a AC vent. Or if you were lucky the Dynamag wheels if optioned. Back in 1988 the Vette was not all that fast but it was the best thing around. But the Callaway was good for 200 MPH and much faster 1/4 miles.

Big Block Mercedes-Benzes, AMGs

You need not own a 6.3-liter, a 6.9-liter, or a modern Mercedes-AMG product to see the appeal of a sleeper luxury car, as the car chase in the movie Ronin makes it pretty clear:

@Frank: Undeniably it would be a Mercedes-Benz 300SEL 6.3 or more recently a Mercedes-Benz E55 AMG, preferably a wagon. The former was a 150-mph sedan–in 1970! The latter (2005-2006) goes even faster and does 0-60 in 4.1 seconds. Mine has 125,000 miles behind it and has surprised quite a few muscle-car owners. To make it an even better sleeper, simply remove the E55 AMG logos. Even cops never give the wagon a second look.

@Kenny: I would say any real AMG Mercedes, especially if de-badged. They look like any ordinary Mercedes with AMG wheels, but pack a considerable punch. The 2 I’ve been fortunate own have been a 1999 E55 and a 2004 CL55. The CL has the supercharged V-8. Looks like a big, comfy coupe, but will move when you hit the gas.

Turbo 3.8-liter Buicks/Pontiacs and 4.3-liter GMCs

General Motors made something very special in the 1980s for Buick, and in the early 1990s for GMC. Turbochargers on V-6 engines are great, but these particular examples had so much more to offer, provided you knew what you were looking at:

@jef bockus: I have a white 87 Buick Turbo Limited with a bench seat and landing lights. Even in stock form it a blast to drive and dead quiet and smooth, love it.

@Scoupe: The 1989 Turbo Trans Am. Sure the Buick Grand National is the Vader of the streets, but Pontiac decided to revise the 3.8T’s heads and added the usual other supporting mods. The least suspecting and likely cheapest way to hit 160 mph in the ’80s, and no one says a word about them.

@Rich: I vote for the Buick T-Type as a classic sleeper. Most looked at it and figured it was just a standard V-6 Regal and not one of those Grand Nationals . At the time there was a wealth of information available to implement significant performance upgrades which I took full advantage of. My standard line after many stop light adventures when asked “what the heck do you have in that car” was this – “This is my fathers Buick” that tended to receive many interesting comments.

@Scoupe: Surprised, no mention of the Sy/Ty GMC twins in here. (Thanks for that! – SM) 

Modern Turbocharged GMs

These new Turbo GMs don’t get the love of the aforementioned 3.8- and 4.3-liter examples, but that just makes them even more of a sleeper:

@Jack: I have a 2017 Buick Regal Premium II that’s tuned along with a larger turbo and CNC milled head and that little 2.0-liter moves put! Surprises most everyone, and if I don’t want to be passed on the interstate I just drop the pedal down a little bit. Understated and a comfortable ride along with a little pep! That’s my Sleeper! Especially after owning various Mustang GT’s and Shelby GT500’s all my life!

@Dean: The neighbor’s kid has a Chevrolet Cruze with a 2.0T stuffed into it out of a Buick Verano. It looks bone stock and kind of beat up. He’s pushing about 350 hp. No will race him because no one in their right mind believes it could possibly be fast.

V-series Cadillacs

Modern-day Cadillacs are nothing like the bold, flashy, audacious examples from decades past. Whether or not that’s a good thing is debatable in the comments section, but there’s little doubt that your average motorist knows just how special the V-series examples are for the enthusiast looking to perform without making a statement:

@Bob: 2009 Cadillac CTS-V 4 door with no badges showing. Unbelievably fast for only 556 hp. GM had to rate it below Corvette’s blown models.

@Scoupe: The first generation (2004–2007) Cadillac CTS-V. Own one as we speak, and it still gets the gamut of ridiculous questions after stoplight shenanigans have ended. “No it does not have the Northstar.” “No it is not FWD.” “Yes, it really came factory with a stick.” Truly a stealthy high-12s Q-Ship out roaming the streets.

@Warren: The ultimate “sleeper” is my 2013 CTS-V Wagon, 556 hp and 551 lb-ft of torque. I tried to find a baby blue metallic [example] but found out that only 4 were made. I had to settle for black. Some fellow in a BMW was aggravating me as I was driving to Houston from Temple, Texas. He kept passing me and slowing down on the two lane rode. Finally I had enough of him and passed him and kept my foot on the gas, never saw him again. Must have embarrassed the guy to be outrun by a “family station wagon”.

Sneaky V-8s from Ford

Much like our list for General Motors sleepers, let’s consolidate a lot of sleepy, sneaky Fords in this list:

@Bob: I had a stock appearing 1937 Ford Business coupe (this was in 1954) with a 281 CID flathead V-8, 4 carbs, track cam, etc. It ran best on a heavy load of nitro and never lost a street race. It turned 104 mph at Orange, MA back in the day. It was a real money maker. One exhaust was short and hidden from scrutiny.

@Gayle: Best sleeper ever from the early ’60s: My mother had a ’54 Lincoln Capri 4-door sedan (317 c.i. Y-block) into which my father added a solid lifter cam, dual 4bbl Holleys (the old teapot type), Mallory ignition and dual exhausts (quiet though). Surprise!

@Postman: My 1973 Ford Maverick 2 door. It had a 302 and white walls. Surprised a lot of folks back in the day.

@David: I don’t know if it’s the best, but one of my favorites is the Mercury Marauder of the early/mid 1960s. It’s not just your basic Monterey or Montclair…

@TG: I bought an 1989 Mustang LX that started life as a 4-banger but was 5.0 swapped. Shortly after I bought it, one of the tail pipes fell off of the hastily installed dual exhaust, so I picked it up and threw it in the back. I rode around in this very 4-cylinder looking mustang with one tailpipe out the back for a couple of months before I finally got around to putting it back on. I surprised quite a few folks at the green light. I was also going to mention the Ford LTD/LX that Sajeev wrote about—the very hum-drum looking 5.0 capable Ford

@jal11180: Mercury Marauder (Last Generation)—say what you will about the Mercury Marauder of the 1960s, as it certainly is an underrated road beast, but, even in the current configuration, the early 2000s itineration of this vehicle is a pretty good muscle sedan in its own right, and, with a bit more work, those numbers can go up considerably.

Oldsmobile Quad 442

This one has a lot of validity. To be honest, the Cutlass Calais Quad 442 is a little bit of that 1960s muscle car magic applied in the early 1990s. What a shame so few people see this car for what it is:

@Scoupe: The 1991 Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais Quad 442 W41. Put your pitchfork down, I don’t care if it’s FWD. I’d be more ashamed of the 17-second quarter miles the G-body cars laid out at the same time. 2550 lbs of nasty little coupe paired with a close-ratio 3.94FDR 5MT, sport suspension that actually was worth a damn, and glorious RPMs, all 7500 of them. I had a warmed-up W41 around 10 years ago and the races it won were hilarious.

V-6 Fords: Taurus SHO & Thunderbird SC

While the 5.0 Mustang of the era was winning races around the country, Ford was doing the same for other models. But they weren’t getting the same amount of credit for it:

@Chris: Loved my 93 SHO. That stick had a very unique feel. And when pushed, that car pulled! Bright red exterior was fun too…

@Mike: Having owned a few I have to vote for 89-95 Taurus SHO. Especially my 90 in black. Invisible.

@Mike: I loved my ’95 SHO, or at least the engine! It freaked people out to see a stick shift in a Taurus and it was always fun to surprise folks by dropping it into 3rd gear on an approach ramp and nailing it.

@Gary: Of course the first Taurus SHO is the ultimate sleeper (had one in 88)

@John: 1991 Taurus SHO!

@Charles: I had 2 Taurus SHO’s. The 89 blended in with every other “jellybean” car on the road with few visual clues. The 92 was not as stealthy. Both were quick for the day.

@jal11180: 1989 Ford Thunderbird Super Coupe – basically, this vehicle was a street version of the NASCAR version of the Ford Thunderbird of the time, and this Seventh Generation version of the vehicle is arguably the highest performance version of the entire history of this vehicle. Alternatively, getting similar upgrades to the same year Mercury Cougar could also be a cheaper, as well as more viable, and, obtainable, option.

@Cason: I must mention is the 1989 to 1990 Mercury Cougar XR-7. This offered 100% of Thunderbird Super Coupe performance and manual shifting in a more subtle package, including the more “formal” Mercury rear window. Say no more!

Underrated Infinitis

Considering the number of these Infiniti rear-wheel-drive sports sedans and coupes I see in my neighborhood being piloted by the Gen Z crowd, I wonder if they truly are sleepy sleepers. But still, this is power in the hands of the few, and it deserves to be highlighted here:

@Pickle: Another more modern sleeper are G35/G37 sedans. They are literally 350z/370z cars with 4 doors. They blend in with the all the Camcord style sedans, yet in the case of the G37, you get a 330-hp V-6 and rear wheel drive. Get the G37S and you get an LSD, 4 piston calipers with 14 inch rotors, a quicker steering ratio, and fantastic sport suspension. Unless you really know what you are looking at, it is hard to distinguish the S from the regular G37. I’ve dropped a number of back country road tailgaters who thought 5-10 over wasn’t fast enough, yet they couldn’t hang when the road got twisty. When I bought mine, the wife thought it was, and I quote, “a grandpa car.” Then she drove it…

@Tinge of Ginge: Y’all are missing the point. Anything with an SHO or SS badge is not a sleeper. Marauder gets close, but its Vader-esque nature almost shows its hand. If you want sleepers, have to go Japanese sedans from the late 90s/early 00s: 03-04 Infiniti M45

Triumph TR8

Did you know the Rover V-8 has a slew of performance parts available? And did you know you can drop them all into a vehicle much smaller than a Land Rover?

@Brian: In 1979 or 1980 I recall being a passenger in my best friend’s 1970 “worked” 350 Chevelle SS with a 4:10 rear end and both of us feeling pretty invincible should anyone decide to challenge us on the street that day. At a traffic light in Chicago, a Triumph TR7 pulled alongside of us and indicated that he was up for the challenge, at least we thought it was a TR7. Unfortunately, we were able to determine it was a TR8 by the callouts on the rear of the car as it drove past us in the short straightaway we had.

Pentastar V-6 Minivans

If you’ve ever rented one of these back in the day, you know they make fantastic sleepers. The Pentastar V-6 is no joke, this van will humiliate a lot of seemingly high-performance vehicles in a drag race, as @JimInTheSand says:

“Not the best sleeper by any means, but something you would not expect to be so snappy are most recent Dodge Grand Caravans. Stock with 283 hp, 6 speed automatic… not grandpa’s mini van.”

Austin Mini

Sleepers aren’t necessarily just the fastest accelerating things, are they? As @Arthur put it:

“My little Austin Mini was a sleeper in a different way. They did not sell them in the U.S. for many years while still available in Canada, and on a trip through New England I surprised a fellow in a Vette coming down a mountain. He was surprised when I passed him and disappeared down the mountain through the tight bends; he did not catch me until we got down onto the regular roads. That’s when he went roaring past with a look of disgust at this little car which he could not match on the twisty bits.”

“S” Code Mercury Cougar

@David said it well when he suggested this particular Cougar is actually a sleeper Shelby:

“Best Sleeper Car of all Time, hands down, is a 1967 Mercury XR-7 GT. The “S” Code got you an FE big block with a 4 speed in what looked, at a stop light, like a bone stock luxury car. 428 cubic inches or 390 cubic inches, your choice. It’s a Cobra, without the Shelby badges. And this true sleeper would also be painted Black, of course. Motor Trend thought so too: 1967 Car of the Year. They said it should be called King Cougar.”

BMW 2002

And just like the tiny Austin Mini, the Germans came out with something that was a force to be reckoned with:

@Mike: Go back to 1968, when a little boxy German sedan started showing up in the US, with a blue and white badge that said “BMW.” If you were driving any import sports car other than an XKE, a 911, or something exotic and Italian, you quickly learned not to engage in stop light grands prix with one of ’em. Nor could you keep up with ’em on a twisty back road. Especially when painted an innocuous white, beige or silver, at least for fellow import enthusiasts, the BMW 2002 was a real sleeper, and proved you could have sports car handling, room for four, and their luggage.

Sneaky V-8s from Chrysler, other Americans

It’s truly amazing how many sleepers were made by American automakers, even more so when considering how their owners souped them up to make them even faster:

@Kurt: The 1957 Rambler Rebel. Who would think a 4-door Rambler would be perhaps the fastest car you could buy in 1957?

@Roger: Yes Kurt!! l was looking for someone to mention the ’57 Rebel! The ultimate sleeper, perhaps! 0-60 in 7.5 seconds—factory stock! Naturally aspirated.

@JimB: In 1966 a fellow engineering college student built a heavily modified ’57 DeSoto Firesweep. He chose this model for its light weight in spite of its large size. He began by stripping more weight. He probably removed a few hundred extra pounds. Nothing was left untouched, except it looked stock from the outside, like he was driving his dad’s car. He installed a well-built 392 Hemi, 727 TorqueFlite with a moderate stall converter, quiet exhaust, and higher ratio differential. There were some minor suspension mods. He sometimes ran cheater slicks, the only giveaway. He ran it once at a local drag strip, just to get a time slip. I would really like to know what this mild mannered car did on the strip, but never did.

@Danders54: The best sleeper I can think of was my dad’s 1966 Coronet 4-doors with a factory 426 Street Hemi. His was the 4-speed. Lore says 4 of these sedans were originally ordered for the FBI but ended up with ‘civilians’ instead. Dad gave it a good tune and removed the Hemi emblems and would go ‘hunting’ for fast looking cars. He also installed a Road Runner ‘beep-beep’ horn to add insult to injury as drove away from who he raced. He also has several trophies from the local MN dragways drag strip. When he was not terrorizing the street or strip it was my mom’s grocery getter that she drove us kids around in.

@Al: Much like the ‘66 Hemi Dodges four-door cars, one of our NHRA club members had a black ‘67 two-door Coronet sedan. It was a competition option package that didn’t even have carpets or a heater as I remember. Total sleeper.

@Cy: I once had a 1966 Plymouth Belvedere 1 station wagon with a hemi automatic. White with dog dish hubcaps. I had fun with it.

@wolfgang: I would like to add the Modern (2012) Chrysler 300 SRT8 with the 6.4 Hemi under the hood. I have surprised quite a few Mustangs and Camaros that didn’t know what it was. Also the 6.1 liter Dodge Magnum wagons from 2006–2008.

@Steve: One of the best factory sleepers ever would likely be one of the few ’66 Belvedere 4-door sedans that got Hemis, especially if it only got the inscrutable “HP2″ fender emblem. My own best effort at the genre was a fairly ratty Duster that hid a 512 [cubic-inch] Indy-head big block and ran low 11s. What it needed was a set of basic steel wheels, and quieter mufflers to complete the deception.

@Doug: The sleeper-est car I’ve ever had (and I’m a classic car dealer) was the one I sold in order to start my business. It was a 1969 Plymouth Barracuda 340 Formula S notchback, finished in Spanish Gold and green interior. It was also a 4-speed AND a stripe delete car. Other than 3 round emblems on the car, you couldn’t tell what it was…..until you put your foot into it. That car would LITERALLY rip the knobs off the dashboard while trying to find grip. It destroyed stock 383 and 440/4 Mopars with regularity—yes, at the strip. An absolute torque monster, and with manual steering, manual drum brakes, No AC, and flat-as-pancake bucket seats, the single-most uncomfortable long-trip cruiser I’ve ever been in.

@jal11180: AMC Hornet – basically, this vehicle is the more high-performance version of the AMC Concord and, with a little bit of work, it could be a true street beast.

@Roger: consider a ’64 Studebaker Commander or Challenger (yes, Studebaker used the name in ’64) 2 door with a supercharged R3 engine and 4 speed with the right rear end ratio. About 400 hp at the rear wheels and 0-60 in well under 7 seconds. Factory stock and nothing except a couple of inobtrusive badge to give it away.

The post According to you: What’s the best “sleeper” car of all time? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

A new superstore for British car parts will be groaning under the weight of more than 500,000 spare parts for makes including Austin, Austin-Healey, Jaguar, Land Rover, MG, Triumph, and TVR—and it can all be browsed and ordered online.

Motaclan.com brings together famous names under one umbrella site, including Leacy Classics, Wood and Pickett, MG Rover’s Xpart, and Racing Green’s TVR parts arm. Motaclan has been trading for more than a decade, but the newly launched website is “a new era” for the company, says Tim Lyons, its managing director.

The move means car owners and those working in the classic car trade will have easy access to a treasure trove of replacement parts. Leacy Classics has been in the business for nearly 40 years, supplying spares and accessories for come of Britain’s most-loved cars, from the MGB to TR6 and E-Type to Mini. XPart was originally set up to cater to the MG, Rover, and Rover Mini brands.

The post Shop 500,000 vintage British car parts on Motoclan’s new website appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Often overlooked for more dramatic marques, Triumph’s intriguing range of TR sports cars actually enjoyed a glorious 28-year run. The journey began with 1953’s cutaway-door TR2 cutie and finished with the aggressive wedge-shaped TR8 of 1981—seven nameplates and over a ­dozen distinct models in all. Among these, the 1969–76 TR6 occupies a sweet spot of classic design, ample performance, comfort, serviceability, and affordability.

The silky 2.5-liter inline-six deserves much credit for delivering admirable torque and a seductive baritone song. In its June 1970 “Four Sports Cars” review, Road & Track commented, “The strong, beautiful-sounding engine of the TR6 makes it one of the easiest and most enjoyable cars to drive.”

Such praise, along with four-wheel independent suspension, rack-and-pinion steering, power front disc brakes, and an observed 109-mph top speed made the TR6 a genuine player in the day.

Yet despite its ideal 51/49 percent front/rear weight distribution and a respectable 0.68 g skidpad performance, Road & Track went on to say that handling was “fine until you encounter rough surfaces—then the car’s extremely dated chassis and suspension make themselves known all too harshly.” But such criticism was fair, because in truth, the TR6 was based on the 1961 TR4’s body-on-frame architecture instead of a contemporary unibody.

Even so, the alluring new TR6 offered more than previous Triumphs. From the TR2 through the 1967 TR4A and TR4A IRS (independent rear suspension), all TRs had four-cylinder engines ranging from 2.0 liters to 2.1 liters. Body designs started with the bug-eyed TR2 and TR3 before stepping up to smart Michelotti styling on the first TR4. In 1968 came the one-year-only TR250—a TR4A IRS with a 104-hp long-stroke six from Triumph’s 2000 sedan. This finally gave way to the 1969 TR6, essentially a TR250 with a revised frame and new Karmann bodywork offering crisper lines, a larger trunk, and a decisive Kamm tail in lieu of the nascent tailfins of previous TRs.

Sports cars were getting faster, and clearly an ancient four-pot wouldn’t cut it. With Austin-Healey’s 3000 axed for 1968 and Alfa Romeos, Fiats, and most MGs still sporting four cylinders, the new Triumph slotted into a good market position. It worked, and by the end of production, the TR6 spanned seven model years, with 76,470 examples exported to the U.S.

In period, an optional removable hardtop, air conditioning, and electric overdrive made the TR6 viable for commuting, touring, and rallies. Additionally, Bob Tullius claimed four SCCA C Production national wins in a race-prepared Group 44 entry from 1969 to 1971.

Today’s buyers should know that British Leyland, which owned Triumph at the time, wasn’t exactly revered for build quality, that TR6s are rust-prone if not protected, and that generally, 1969 through 1971 models are considered the purest. Thereafter, ever more complex emissions controls included a carbon canister in 1972, an anti–run on valve in 1973, a super-low 7.5:1 compression ratio in 1974, and an air-injection system from 1975 on. If this wasn’t bad enough, large rubber “baby buggy” bumpers, added for ’75, further diluted the Scotch.

Despite such early federalization losses, though, in hindsight, TR6s from all model years are wonderfully straightforward and honest sports cars. And thanks to good aftermarket support today, there’s no reason a solid example can’t last a lifetime.

1972 Triumph TR6

Engine: 2.5-liter OHV I-6
Power: 106 hp @ 4900 rpm
Torque: 133 lb-ft @ 3000 rpm
Weight: 2156 pounds
0–60 mph: 10.7 sec
Price when new: $3275
Hagerty #3 (Good) condition value: $13,500–$22,100

This article first appeared in Hagerty Drivers Club magazine. Click here to subscribe and join the club.

Check out the Hagerty Media homepage so you don’t miss a single story, or better yet, bookmark it.

The post Triumph’s TR6 is an E-Type for the masses appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Triumph builds some very attractive motorbikes these days, including stylish Scramblers, the pared-back Bonneville Bobber and mighty Rocket 3. But it’s debatable whether any recent model matches the visual impact that the old Triumph firm made half a century ago, with the X-75 Hurricane.

Not that the Hurricane’s elegant, wasp-waisted looks were the only thing for which the 740cc triple was memorable. Its 60bhp engine, a lower-geared version of the unit that powered the T150 Trident and BSA Rocket 3, made the Triumph one of the world’s quickest-accelerating bikes when it hit the road in 1973.

Given the Hurricane’s style, performance and rarity—fewer than 1200 were built, all between June 1972 and January ’73—it’s no surprise that it is among the most admired of Seventies classics. It has one of the most unusual back-stories, too, because it was designed without the bosses at Triumph’s former factory at Meriden, near Coventry, even knowing about it.

The X-75 was shaped not in Britain but in the United States—in top secret, by a young freelance designer named Craig Vetter. In fact the whole concept originated in the U.S. with Don Brown, the vice-chairman of BSA’s American company.

When the original Trident and Rocket 3 triples had been revealed in late 1968, American market reaction had been very poor, mainly because of the bikes’ unusual, angular styling. “The only way we were going to sell the triples was by restyling them,” Brown later recalled. “And I knew that because BSA Group executives approved the original Rocket 3’s styling, I’d have to get the bike restyled on my own, in the U.S.—and in secret!”

Brown approached Vetter, who had started a business in Illinois making fairings, and had just displayed two stylish bikes of his own design at a show in Daytona, Florida. Vetter flew to BSA’s base in New Jersey with some initial sketches that impressed Brown. “He was a long-haired, hippie-type guy—a free spirit—but he was a keen thinker and ambitious,” the BSA man later recalled.

It was agreed that the project would be kept secret even from the BSA Group’s chairman and managing director, and Vetter was provided with a standard Rocket 3 on which to start work. His prototype retained the BSA’s angled-forward, pushrod-operated engine and twin-downtube steel frame.

Vetter extended the cylinder head’s fins to make the motor look bigger and more impressive. The handlebars were higher, clocks were mounted above a new chromed headlight, and front forks were lengthened by 50 mm. Three exhaust downpipes slanted across the front of the motor, then ran back to the bank of shiny, upswept silencers on the right side.

Most importantly, the original slab-sided bodywork was replaced by a slender fiberglass form that blended the fuel tank into the sidepanel area, above which was a dual-seat with a chromed pillion grab-rail. The arrangement was inevitably impractical—the tank held only 10 liters—but the visual effect was striking.

Despite the secrecy surrounding the project, the American BSA firm’s president Peter Thornton heard about the prototype, and asked Vetter to bring it to New Jersey. When he arrived, the reaction was so positive that Thornton had the bike shipped to Meriden the same day – complete with instructions that it was to be built with no changes.

Even so, the Hurricane’s progress to the production line was far from smooth. Brown and Vetter had envisaged the triple as a BSA, and the first pre-production bike assembled at Triumph’s Meriden plant wore the rival marque’s badges. But BSA’s financial collapse ensured that the model was eventually marketed as the Triumph X-75 Hurricane.

Incorporating remarkably few changes from Vetter’s original prototype, the Hurricane turned plenty of heads when it was launched. It still looks stunning, at least from the right. The view from the rider’s seat is captivating, too; dominated by the narrow petrol tank, chromed headlight and a round friction steering damper.

The handlebars are more wide than high, giving a bolt-upright riding position with feet well forward. Ignition is on the left, below the steering head; the choke lever sits on the bank of Amal carburetors. There’s no electric start but, given a gentle prod of the kickstart, the Triumph burst into life with a pleasant three-cylinder warbling.

With its flashy looks, potent engine, feeble fuel range (realistically as little as 60 miles, given the triple’s 30 mpg thirst) and short gearing, the Hurricane was aimed unashamedly at urban cruisers and traffic-light racers. Although fairly tall, at 191 kg it was respectably light, too—a useful 20kg lighter than the Trident.

That helped make the Triumph feel refreshingly quick as I set off. The three-pot engine traditionally likes to be revved, but the Hurricane pulled fairly well from low revs, kicking harder above 4000 rpm and emitting a wonderful exhaust wail as the revs rose towards the peak power figure at 7250 rpm.

The impression of acceleration in the lower gears was terrific by Seventies standards, enhanced by the exposed riding position and short gearing. I had plenty of opportunity to practice my right-foot change on the five-speed Hurricane, whose top speed of about 115 mph was 10mph down on the T150 Trident’s—although it was half a second quicker over the standing quarter-mile.

The Hurricane earned a dubious reputation for handling thanks to its combination of high bars, kicked-out forks and ribbed front tyre. This bike was stable in a straight line, and delivered a fairly sporty ride thanks to firm shocks and front forks that, although long, were reasonably well-damped. Its twin-leading-shoe drum front brake gave a soft feel at the lever but worked reasonably well, aided by the smaller rear drum.

Ultimately the X-75 was less about performance than style and attitude. The Trident was a better all-round motorbike—faster, more stable, better braked, more comfortable at speed and with better fuel range. But the Hurricane had the looks and acceleration that made it more popular with many U.S. riders.

Unfortunately, by the time it was released the BSA Group (of which Triumph was a part) was in a financial crisis. This affected Craig Vetter, who was not paid for his work for many months. Even then, he only got his cheque for $12,000 after a personal appeal from Don Brown, who had left the company.

Vetter went on to become famous in the bike world for his firm’s aftermarket fairings and luggage systems. But as long as the Triumph X-75 Hurricane is ridden and admired, its designer will be remembered as the man who brought a touch of Stateside glitz to the classic British triple.

***

1973 Triumph X-75 Hurricane

Highs: Looking at it from across the parking lot

Lows: Too-frequent fill-ups

Summary: Seventies cool … with a kick

—

Price: Project: $12,000 Daily rider: $19,800 Showing off: $28,500

Engine: Aircooled transverse triple

Capacity: 740cc

Maximum power: 60bhp @ 7250 rpm

Weight: 191 kg without fluids

Top speed: 115 mph

Via Hagerty UK

The post The Triumph X-75 Hurricane’s speed will blow you away appeared first on Hagerty Media.

It’s said that the best days of boat ownership are the day you buy the boat and the day you sell it. That has not been my experience buying and selling motorcycles. Watching one of your bikes ride off in someone else’s truck is hard. It’s especially difficult when the buyer is the type of person my experience suggests would be served better by a different machine.

Two weeks ago, I sold my 1973 Triumph TR5T. As the gray pickup drove away, a war waged in my head. What is the proper emotion when something you care about heads to a new home? Especially when you know that home has different views on appropriate treatment for a vintage object with delicate patina?

Let’s start at the start. A while back, Editor-at-Large Sam Smith bought this wicked-cool Triumph. Just seeing photos on the internet made me utter those dangerous words: “When you are ready to sell that,” I told him, “let me know.”

Months later, my phone rang. The Triumph was a former AHRMA racer, mostly sorted but in need of a few things. Sam got swept up in other projects and needed to move on. On my end, money and projects were shuffled about in order to justify the spend. Before long, the Triumph rolled out of Sam’s Tennessee shop and into a trailer. I drove north, home to Michigan, intoxicated with potential.

This bike attracted me for one simple reason—it looks bad-ass. The TR5T came to my garage in October of 2021, a back-burner winter project. After I set up the Amal carb and hacked together an exhaust, that 500-cc parallel twin roared to life. It then proceeded to annoy my neighbors on a weekly basis, as I used the beast to tow my trash and recycling cans out to the street each Wednesday night. A few members of my small neighborhood probably wish I had left the bike out with the trash.

As fun as that was, it was hardly proper use for something so cool. Guilt stacked up. I began to question if the space and funds tied up by the Triumph weren’t better used for other experiences. Around that time, another friend offered a screaming deal on another bike that I’ve long wanted, one a lot more practical.

A for-sale listing formed. A single Instagram post brought a few replies asking for details, but only one seriously interested party. And that potential buyer brought what felt, at the time, like a serious moral dilemma: Does my responsibility for an object I love extend to finding what I believe is the perfect buyer? Or does it just mean finding someone who can pay my asking price?

To be clear, that’s part of why Sam sold the bike to me. He knew I would spend the time to do the research and make it run right. The Triumph lived full-time in my garage, it was fed only non-ethanol fuel, and it was doted over whenever it so much as hiccupped. I strived to be the perfect caretaker, treating a 50-year-old bike as if it were only two years old.

The Instagram messages from that potential buyer painted a picture. “Just how bad are the brakes?” he said. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle with a drum front brake.” Then came, “When you say it has a tickler, what does that mean?” My favorite was, “Have you had any trouble with the electronics?”

It’s a Triumph with Lucas ignition parts. Jokes come with the territory.

Still, I supplied honest answers to every question. The window shopper became a buyer, and he sent me a deposit. When we met this fall, at the Barber Vintage Festival, to hand over the bike and its trove of spare parts, I couldn’t help but notice that the new owner was maybe a little green in mechanical experience. When he mentioned plans to park this wonderfully preserved, patina-rich Triumph in the open parking lot in front of his dorm room, it felt like a dagger to my heart. I pictured the bike degrading rapidly.

Around that time, a thought crossed my mind: hand back the cashiers check, then gently suggest that this young man hit Barber’s swap meet and find a little Honda enduro. That would be a better fit for his needs and plans, I thought. He would likely have a great experience, and the bike wouldn’t be as needy or delicate as the Triumph.

Only . . . I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Because if someone would have done that to me, I wouldn’t be who I am.

See, at 16 years old, I bought a Chevrolet Corvair from a scrap yard. It was more iron oxide than car. The owner of that yard probably felt that not selling me the Corvair would have been doing me a favor. After breaking apart the locked-up engine with a scrap two-by-four and a three-pound sledge, I realized the Chevy was never going to drive again. A few smart friends recommended buying a running Corvair to stay motivated. I could enjoy driving, they said, rather than spiraling into the frustration of a never-ending project.

It took an entire summer of bagging groceries to stack up the 22 hundred-dollar bills that ended up being traded for my 1964 Corvair Monza coupe. Without a doubt, the owner was not excited to sell me that car. He knew I planned to daily drive it and park it at my high school. He knew I barely owned a complete set of hand tools.

At that point, most people would have said I had no business owning a car nearly triple my age. That man knew the potential he had to keep that Corvair in great shape and preserved for the future. He also knew that the most powerful thing he could do was let me use that Monza to create unforgettable memories and learn.

That Corvair, along with the hours spent learning to keep it on the road, is what created the oil-soaked, mechanically obsessed Kyle Smith you find here.

I literally would not be where I am, wouldn’t be at this job and writing these words, if it wasn’t for that gentleman in Lawrence, Kansas back in 2007. Who am I to gate-keep another budding enthusiast from diving right in? Sam’s old Triumph, my old Triumph, is a nice, complete bike that came with a lot of spare parts and pieces, but it’s not some rare treasure that belongs in a museum. Like that Monza, it’s an old vehicle first and a collectible second. These machines weren’t particularly special when they were new, and while we do have a duty to be caretakers for the next generation, at some point, we have to let the next generation actually join us, whether it feels right or not.

The service manuals were the last thing I handed Ben before shaking his hand and sending him off on his new adventure. On my 14-hour drive home from Barber, the idea that the Triumph “deserves better” disappeared. It was replaced by the feeling that the new owner was perfect: a young person, excited to learn, who very much wanted to be part of vintage motorcycle culture.

In the end, it did go to an owner like me. Just on a time delay. We all started somewhere in our journey with old cars, and that journey often involves jumping straight into the deep end and learning to swim.

Who am I to withhold selling a motorcycle because I don’t think someone else is ready? That choice isn’t mine to make. But I will say one thing: Ben, if you’re reading this and you end up in over your head, you know where I live. Call any time.

The post A Triumph(ant) passing of the torch appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Nissan’s new Z GT4 is ready to race across the globe

Intake: Yesterday, Nissan unveiled the latest iteration of its novel Z car: a purpose-built track rat ready to take the flag at road courses around the world. To construct the beast, Nissan’s NISMO racing division began with the production Z, and then tuned its 3.0-liter twin-turbo DOHC six-cylinder and altered its chassis and suspension—to what degree, we do not know. Vehicle specs will be announced at this year’s SEMA show. We do know that the Nissan Z racer, featuring an aggressive front splitter and a aircraft-carrier-sized rear wing, will be eligible to compete wherever GT4-spec cars are permitted to run, including IMSA’s Michelin Pilot Challenge and SRO’s Pirelli GT4 America. There, the track-ready Z will go wheel-to-wheel with other GT4 curb hoppers, such as the Aston Martin Vantage, Porsche’s 718 Cayman, and BMW’s M4. Prospective customer teams will be able to get their hands on the new Z GT4 sometime in the first half of next year.

Exhaust: Add Nissan to the list of recent manufacturers to debut a GT4 bullet for the 2023 season. Earlier this summer, McLaren announced that it was ditching its 570S GT4 racer in favor of the lighter, wider, more fuel-efficient Artura. Big Orange’s nimble racer sports a twin-turbo 120-degree 3.0-liter V-6 married to a seven-speed sequential box. More recently, Ford revealed that its seventh-generation Mustang would join the landscape in 2023. Next year’s GT4 starting grid is growing crowded. And while we know these undercard series, regardless of sanctioning body, often put on the best show of the weekend largely due to the impressive car count, the looming question remains: which teams will uptake the new toys and which will cling to the older, more proven models? We are certain to learn more details when SEMA rolls around. — Cameron Neveu

Watch a Miata nudge 190 mph on the autobahn

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfuIhd4M3dE

Intake: The Miata has always ticked many boxes for gearheads. It’s affordable, lightweight and fun to drive, but not exactly fast. Until now. YouTuber
EVOVIISWE pushed his ND Miata RF to 187.6 mph (302 kph) on a stretch of unrestricted German autobahn by swapping the standard 181-hp four-banger for a 514-hp LS7 V-8. The build has taken over a year to complete and the high-speed run wasn’t without issues. During his first attempt there was a loud bang at around 178 mph when the windscreen trim broke off, although fortunately the retractable roof stayed in place. On a second attempt the Miata motored beyond the 300 kph (186 mph) mark with the speed measured on a motorsports-spec Racelogic VBox. EVOIISWE reckons this makes it the fastest road-legal Miata in the world. Do you know of one faster?

Exhaust: Some like the pure simplicity of the minimalist Miata, but it’s the car’s amazing mod-ability that appeals to many more. Whether you fancy a monoposto or a tribute to a 1950s Alfa Romeo there’s a Miata-based solution out there, and now there’s an autobahn-stormer as well. The Miata is due for a refresh, along with some mild electrification, very soon, let’s hope that doesn’t deter the Miata modders in the future.—Nik Berg

Hope you like 7000-pound V-8 BMWs with a side of hybrid

Intake: As BMW promised in November of last year, the XM has become reality—159,995 dollars’ worth, with 644 hp and 590 lb-ft of torque generated from its combination of electric motor and twin-turbo V-8. This SUV is the first standalone product to come from BMW’s Motorsport (M) division since 1978, when M unveiled a BMW first: a mid-engine supercar. Though we cringe at the comparison, there’s no denying that the XM earns another round of firsts: the first M vehicle with an electrified powertrain, standard rear-axle steering, a curb weight over six thousand pounds, or a Label Red trim. That latter denotes what we would, were this not an M product to begin with, identify as the M model: A more expensive, more powerful version wearing distinctive badging and paint and interior trim. By the numbers, that’s 91 more hp (735+) and 145 more lb-ft of torque (735) for an extra $26,000.

Exhaust: The self-congratulatory XM only makes us yearn for the days that M’s prestige was measured by firsts or superlatives. We know better than to wax nostalgic in the presence of such a future-looking SUV … but M did go out and put its letter on the thing. —Grace Houghton

Volvo’s in-car radar will mean no pooch or person is left behind

Intake: The upcoming Volvo EX90 electric SUV will be the first car to feature radar sensors inside the cabin to detect people and pets to make sure that drivers never leave anyone locked in the car by mistake. According to U.S. government figures, more than 900 children in America have died after being left in hot cars since 1998 and Volvo’s new tech would prevent this. Sensors throughout the car, including the trunk space, can detect sub-millimeter movements and alert the driver to check the car. If a person or animal is sensed then the car will not lock and a warning will appear on the center console. The car’s climate system can also activate to keep the cabin cool or warm depending on the weather.

Exhaust: The Swedish firm built on safety has come up trumps again. “No one chooses to be distracted or tired, but we know it can happen,” says Lotta Jakobsson, a senior technical specialist in injury prevention. “We’re all human and distraction is a fact of life. With the help of cutting-edge technology, we’ll support you when you’re not at your best and help you avoid leaving family members or pets behind by accident.” —NB

Two new variants join Bentley’s Bentayga Hybrid family

Intake: Bentley’s Bentayga SUV will get two new hybrid variants to expand the aesthetic range of its best-selling model. Both will feature Bentley’s new 18-kWh battery that will allow 27-plus miles of all-electric driving range.

The first is the Bentayga S Hybrid, which skews towards the sporting side of the model range. It offers 456 hp of combined output from a 3-liter twin-turbo V-6 engine and a 100-kW electric motor, which draws it within earshot of its 4-liter, twin-turbo V-8-powered, non-hybrid brother, the Bentayga S (542hp). That instant electric torque help spur the ute to 62 mph from a stand-still in just 5.3 seconds, and top speed is 158 mph. The chassis will boast a more athletic ride thanks to dampers whose stiffness have been increased by 15 percent, and the unique exhaust has been tuned in such a way that it can provide different auditory experiences for front row passengers vs. second-row riders. It features unique styling elements such as an optional black-out package for the window trim, mirrors, and other bits that would normally present in polished metal. There’s a body kit to make the car appear lower to the ground, and a spoiler outback.

If performance SUVs aren’t your thing, the new Bentayga Azure Hybrid might be more appealing. This cross-portfolio flavor that’s finally making it to the hybrid side of the Bentayga family is focused on the comfort and wellbeing of its occupants first and foremost. Engine noise has been turned as far down as possible, and the chassis tuned for maximum float over sub-prime pavement. Automatically adjusting heated and cooled seats will help you maintain optimal body temperature. Inside, soft veneers and open-pore wood tones help create a more relaxing environment than the high-gloss finishes of other Bentayga trims.

Exhaust: With the exception of the long wheelbase SUV, and the continental models, all bentleys are now available as a hybrid. We know that the hybrid models are simply meant to bridge the gap between the gas-powered thundercouches of yore and the wafting EVs of tomorrow, but our time with a 2022 Flying Spur Hybrid revealed that the hybrid tech was useful—if a bit unpolished. Between the new battery and the wide personality now on offer in Bentley’s best-selling model, the folks from Crewe are hoping that more customers will take their first steps toward an all-electric future. — Nathan Petroelje

Triumph sets course to race new off-road machines in MXGP

Intake: Back in 2021, Triumph declared it would began development and production of an off-road lineup of motorcycles. The latest development in that saga is the announcement that confirms a factory-backed effort in the FIM Motocross World Championship MX2 class for 2024. This will consist of a pair of 250cc four-stroke motocross machines led by one of the winningest team owners in MXGP history, Thierry Chizat-Suzzoni. The announcement also mentions that a 450cc two-bike team will join the MXGP class in 2025.

Exhaust: Entering a new race series is always a big step for manufacturers. This is a huge leap for Triumph that will likely be made significantly easier—but not any cheaper—by the partnership with Chizat-Suzzoni. In a statement from Chizat-Suzzoni, he expresses the amount of support and excitement he sees from the Triumph company and team, but we have yet to hear anything about the bike. We are reserving any predictions for how the season will go until the new chassis and engine has come to light. — Kyle Smith

The post Nissan’s GT4 fighter, BMW M’s massive SUV, Volvo’s kid- and dog-friendly tech appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Between the 60 or so BMWs, six Vanagons, six Suburbans, and various and sundry family cars, about 100 vehicles have come into my possession (and usually left) since I got my driver’s license in the mid-1970s. I’ve written stories about the best and worst of the bunch, but I thought I’d simply enumerate the first six, as after that, it becomes something of a blur.

The first six weren’t great—in fact, several were bloody awful—but they were all memorable.

1969 Plymouth Satellite

This was my mother’s car. These B-bodied Chryslers with the slotted front grilles were best known in their two-door, 383-cubic-inch Roadrunner form, but ours was the sensible four-door with the stalwart 318 engine. Though the Satellite was classified as “mid-sized,” it was enormous by modern standards, sort of like a bigger pumped-up Dodge Dart with a V-8. With its four doors and front bench seat, it seemed to swallow an endless number of adolescents; I remember my mother driving me and 10 of my friends home after a junior high school dance (ah, those were the days when you could ignore seat belts and not feel like a criminal). Everyone in my family has a special place in their heart for this car. It was the first car my mother bought by herself after my father passed away, and she took particular pride in having negotiated a better deal than a family friend who independently sought to grease the skids on her behalf. It took the family on innumerable trips back and forth between our old haunts on Long Island and our new digs in western Massachusetts. And it was the car that my sister and I both learned to drive on. Sadly, images of the car only exist in our memories.

1974 Fiat 128 Sedan

When the Satellite’s 100,000 miles qualified it for membership in the repair-of-the-week club, it began rusting away, and the first Arab oil embargo caused fuel prices to spike, the trifecta of events caused my mother to sell it and buy a white 1974 Fiat 128 two-door sedan. I begged her to buy a BMW 2002 instead, as I’d seriously imprinted on one owned by a college student who lived with us for one summer a few years prior, but the cost difference was too big. Although Fiat was front-wheel drive instead of RWD like the 2002, it was a similar size and weight, and it had a four-speed stick. My mother, who drove the family’s ’63 three-on-the-tree Fairlane before the Satellite, picked up the stick immediately, and taught me. The Satellite may have been the car I learned to drive on, but the Fiat 128 was the family car when I got my license. I treated it as if it was a BMW 2002, which is to say that I pretended I was Nikki Lauda and beat the crap out of it. It was a fun, nimble little car, even if it did live up to its “Fix It Again Tony” reputation. These 128 two-door sedans, particularly in the U.S.-spec big-bumpered configuration, definitely aren’t one of Fiat’s set-your-heart-aflutter designs, but I enjoyed ours after I got my license. Like the Satellite, I can’t find a single family photo of the car.

1970 Triumph GT6+

As I wrote several years back, the first car I owned outright was a 1970 Triumph GT6+, the car that taught me that everything bad you’ve ever heard about British cars is true—the electrical problems, the rust, the metal fatigue, all of it. And, to make it worse, the GT6 had a dual affliction. First, the car was basically a Spitfire with a hatchback and a de-stroked six-cylinder TR6 motor, so everything behind the engine would break from the additional torque. Second, the weight distribution and the rear suspension design resulted in handling characteristics that would make the car swap ends on a moist road if you so much as coughed. But it was girl-magnet cute and could eat a BMW 2002’s lunch in second gear, so I loved it, even though it ran perhaps half the time during the 2.5 years I owned it. The repair costs ate me alive while I was a poor college student, and the car rusted while I watched, so I sold it while it still had some value. The secret is out that GT6s look like little E-Type Jaguars, so the days of being able to find solid cars for short money are pretty much gone, but I still reflexively type “GT6” into Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace. Who knows? There may come a day when my Lotus Europa doesn’t give me enough pain and I seek to relive those glorious times when shifting and nailing the gas posed the real risk of creating expensive metallic banging sounds and stranding you until the tow truck arrived.

1963 Rambler Classic

After I sold the GT6, I was without a car for my last two years of college. Then my best friend and housemate got married, I was the best man at his wedding, his parents bought him and his wife a new VW Rabbit, and as a groom-to-best-man gift, he sold me his and his fiancé’s current car—a 1963 Rambler Classic 660—for a dollar. I still have the bill of sale. Note that this wasn’t the weird frumpy-looking Rambler American. The Rambler Classic and its upmarket sibling the Ambassador were a fresh new design that won Motor Trend’s Car of the Year award for 1963, and ’63 Classics / Ambassadors are unique in their one-year-only electric razor-style front grille. The 660 trim level was pretty basic—straight six, power nothing—but after the drama of the Triumph GT6, I warmed to the Rambler. When my then-girlfriend’s job at Harvard moved to the University of Texas in Austin and we planned to move there, I struggled with whether or not to take the Rambler, but it relieved me of the decision by overheating on a final drive out to Amherst. I left it by the side of the road, something I’ve always felt badly about. I keep my eye out for a fully loaded Ambassador with two-tone paint, V-8, factory air, and power everything.

1971 Volkswagen Bus / 1969 Westfalia Camper

When I was still living in Amherst in 1981, attending graduate school at UMass, my then-girlfriend Maire Anne, who had since graduated and moved to Cambridge, surprised me by driving up in a ’71 Volkswagen bus. I thought, how cool is this? My hot girlfriend just bought the car synonymous with all the most sensational parts of the ’60s. Although it was definitely her car, not mine, the bout with owning the Triumph had left me mechanically inclined, and when we moved in together, it was my responsibility to keep the bus running. This responsibility was severely tested when we piled into the bus (which, of course, like any lifelong New England Volkswagen, had no heat due to the rotted-out heater boxes) and left on New Year’s Day 1982 for her new job in Austin. Unfortunately, the bus’s New England provenance caught up with it, and one day, while I was working on it, the floor jack went through the frame rail. I was able to find a ’69 Westfalia camper with a near-perfect body but a blown engine, so I did the Frankstein-like transplant in the driveway of our little rented duplex in Austin. The resurrected Westfalia camper came with us when we returned to Boston in ’84 and was Maire Anne’s daily driver until our first child was born in 1988, so the bus (well, the engine in two different buses) was with us for seven years. Whenever we see an old air-cooled bus, the pull we feel isn’t simply cannabis-soaked nostalgia; we logged some serious miles in those two that were joined at the crankshaft. The herd of Vanagons that followed were my attempt to forestall the inevitable future of white-bread conventional minivans, and they were OK, but they’re nothing we get weepy about. However, the fact that the little RV we own is a Winnebago Rialta, which is a Volkswagen Eurovan with a Winnebago camper body on the back—sort of like a pumped-up next-generation Westfalia camper—is far from accidental.

1971 BMW 2002

Moving to Austin and getting my first real software engineering job enabled me to scratch that itch that began when that college student who owned the BMW 2002 lived with us that summer. So in 1982, I bought the cheapest, rattiest 2002 that I could find, a ’71 that was equal parts orange paint, rust, and bondo. It was this car that established the pattern of buy ’em cheap, fix ’em, and sell ’em when you find something better. Forty years and 40 2002s later, the pattern is still repeating. But this was ground zero. I currently own three 2002s, including another one I bought before leaving Austin, but some of the memories I have of that first 2002, including rebuilding its transmission and taking it for its first drive with a crunch-free gearbox and brand-new Pirelli P3s (while the stereo cranked out The Ghost In You by the Psychedelic Furs over the just-installed ADS 200 speakers), are unrivaled.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that those first few cars are special. It doesn’t necessarily mean we regret selling them, or that we’d buy them back if we had the chance. It’s the memories, not the cars, that are irreplaceable.

***

Rob Siegel’s latest book, The Best of the Hack Mechanic^TM: 35 years of hacks, kluges, and assorted automotive mayhem, is available on Amazon. His other seven books are available here, or you can order personally inscribed copies through his website, www.robsiegel.com.

The post The first 6 cars I enjoyed from behind the wheel appeared first on Hagerty Media.

World’s easiest ’69 Camaro project could be yours

Intake: The 1969 Camaro Z/28 is joining the likes of the Ghostbusters ECTO-1, Porsche 911, and Fiat 500 among Lego’s Icon series of slightly larger vehicles rendered in the company’s trademark blocks. Builders will be able to select white, gray, or red stripes to adorn the black car, and can also choose a convertible or hardtop. The 1456-piece kit will hit store shelves on August 1 with an MSRP of $169.99.

Exhaust: As usual, Lego designers have managed to capture the essence of their subject despite the difficulty of rendering a well-known subject using plastic bricks. The customizable stripes are a nice touch, as are the options for license plates. One Michigan plate notes the make and year, and a California black plate reads “P4N T3R,” which is a nod to a name that Chevrolet considered for the car before selecting “Camaro.” For a Camaro owner or fan, it’s a great showpiece and we’re sure it will make for a fun day of building. — Brandan Gillogly

Drama as McLaren, Ganassi fight for IndyCar champ Alex Palou

Intake: Yesterday, Chip Ganassi Racing and McLaren Racing issued press releases announcing that defending IndyCar champion Alex Palou would drive for their respective teams in 2023. Unless the Spaniard found a way to clone himself, only one of these penned statements are true. The odd back-and-forth began Tuesday afternoon, when Ganassi’s team announced that they would exercise the contract option to retain the Palou in 2023, for his third year with the team.

Several hours later, Palou took to Twitter saying that the press release was false and that he would not be back with CGR in 2023 for “personal reasons.” In the three-part tweet, he also pointed out that he was misquoted in the press release.Five minutes after Palou’s tweet, McLaren Racing announced that Palou would race for the firm next season in an undisclosed capacity. This press release included quotes from Palou and Big Orange boss Zak Brown. According to IndyCar, a little over an hour after McLaren’s announcement, Ganassi Racing responded to a request for comment with a text reading, “We can confirm that Alex Palou is under contract with the team through 2023.” As of Wednesday morning, that’s where this confusing saga stands.

Exhaust: Never before have we witnessed such public tug-of-war over a driver. We can’t help but grab our popcorn bucket and enjoy a little bit of mid-week motorsports drama. Where—and what—will Palou race in 2023? Your guess is as good as ours. One thing we do know is that McLaren is amassing an impressive roster of winning open wheel drivers for next season—Alexander Rossi and Pato O’Ward will drive complete the IndyCar season slate for McLaren in 2023. The burgeoning team is also expected to add a third car to its full-time stable. Potential drivers include Felix Rosenqvist, who recently inked a renewal with McLaren in 2023 and beyond, or Alex Palou. However things shake out, look for Big Orange at the front of the pack.

“Retromod” Alfa Romeo Giulia QV recalls the 1960s

Intake: We’re all familiar with the idea of a restomod—an old car brought up to speed with modern performance and creature comforts—and now an Italian design firm has reverse-engineered the concept. Similar to Flex Automotive, which swaps 60- and 80-series fascias onto 100-series Land Cruisers, ErreErre Fuoriserie has attempted to turn a current Alfa Romeo QV into a classic Type 105 Giulia sedan. The Italian design house has squared off the car’s fenders and grafted on a new nose, complete with the OG Giulia’s trademark quad circular headlamps and a smaller grille. The rear gets small rectangular lights, and sculpted twin roof and trunk lid spoilers that ape the innovative wind-tunnel-honed shape of the 1960s’ sedan. ErreErre Fuoriserie charges $245,000 plus taxes for the transformation, and you’ll need to provide your own donor car, which costs another $80,000.

Exhaust: The 105 Giulia is a popular model for restomodding, since it will easily accomodate Alfa’s two-liter Twin Spark engine. You can vastly improve handling with a simple suspension swap for a lower, stiffer setup—just check out Alfaholics for inspiration. You could build a mighty 105 for a fraction of the cost of this weird Alfa, and as the former owner of a 1969 Giulia Super, I often wish I had. — Nik Berg

Triumph’s TE-1 electric prototype can outsprint a Speed Triple 1200

Intake: Triumph has been taking a relatively slow and transparent path in its creation of an electric model for its lineup, unlike other brands whose EV motorcycles seem to pop up out of nowhere or stem from a corporate acquisition. The TE-1 “electric development project” is no officially complete, says the OEM. A charge time (0 to 80 percent) of just 20 minutes and a 100-mile range make this bike worth taking seriously. That’s not all, either: The 130-kW motor can propel the TE-1 to 100-mph even faster than the Speed Triple 1200, which is no slouch.

Exhaust: Triumph knows that selling an electric motorcycle is an uphill battle for its clientele, and takes an interesting approach by specifying that this bike packs the power and performance of the Speed Triple 1200 while being the size of the Street Triple 765. (Yamaha’s original Yamaha R1 was praised for a similar approach back in 2000.) Range is still a bit tight, at 100 miles, but since it’s offset by a seriously quick charge time, the TE-1 should  “Never Electric” folks at least look twice.

Vintage Bentley testbed to make show debut

Intake: The last surviving three-liter Bentley experimental car, known as EXP4, is set to make its first-ever appearance at a car show. Built in 1922 with a touring body, the car was key to Bentley’s development of four-wheel braking. Chief designer Frank Burgess believed that adding brakes to the front axles would have significant safety benefits—an attitude which, believe it or not, was contrary to public opinion and even the beliefs of W.O. Bentley himself. To prove the advantage of all-wheel brakes, Burgess devised a system that would paint the road when the brakes were applied and when the car drew to halt, clearly marking its significantly shorter stopping distance.

EXP4’s role as a testbed continued as it was later fitted with a 4 1/2-liter engine, then rebodied as a saloon (sedan, for you Americans) for a few years, and then again with a touring body by Park Ward. In this form, it had a glorious 20-year racing career at the hands of Margaret Allen, including winning the 1950 Circuit of Ireland Rally’s Ladies’ Cup. EXP4 was then part of the Schellenberg Collection until 2015, when it was bought by Jonathan Turner and painstakingly restored by specialists William Medcalf. The car has since raced at Goodwood and Silverstone, but its display at Salon Privé Concours d’Elégance at Blenheim Palace near Oxford, U.K., from August 31 to September 2 will be its first show outing.

Exhaust: Responsible for a revolution in safety and a key player in the development of the 4 1/2 liter engine that would famously win at Le Mans, followed by a racing career of its own with one of the fastest women of the day, EXP4 boasts an illustrious history that few Bentleys can rival. Worth even more celebration is the fact that its new owner puts the car to excellent use on track and shows it in public rather than keeping it hidden away in a private collection. — NB

The post World’s easiest ’69 Camaro project, modern Alfa dons $245K retro suit, experimental Bentley heads to its first car show appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With all that’s going on in the collector market these days, good-old-fashioned British sports cars are often overlooked. Mainstream models from MG, Triumph, and Austin-Healey offer that rare mix of gorgeous-yet-unpretentious styling and a fun-focused, minimalist mindset that’s missing from most cars built since 1980. They’re also highly rewarding choices for any enthusiast who cares less about the 0-to-60 time than how a car makes them feel. Sure, you might need to get your hands dirty a little more often, but that’s part of the appeal.

British sports cars are a huge part of the collector car market and have been since before many of the folks writing here picked up a keyboard. There’s a reason, though, that we don’t devote many headlines to old English roadsters: Insider reports on market trends, and this corner of the market hasn’t seen dramatic change. “Stable” and “quiet” describe most British car values relative to the frenzy among other sub-$50K collector cars, and Hagerty’s British Car Index is traditionally among the steadiest of the seven indices we track. But with everything from Mustang IIs to Mondials getting far pricier over the past 24 months, even some British car prices have awakened from their slumber. With that, we figured it was a good time to check in on five of the most popular British classics.

1946–55 MG T-Series

Just after World War II, American servicemen stationed in Britain hopped into the T-Series, and a love affair for the ages was born. Many had the little MG imported to the U.S. on their return home or bought one at a Stateside dealer when they became available in 1947. Their new love was a cheap date, too—the T-Series could be bought for a little more than half as much as that other landmark postwar sports car, Jaguar’s XK120.

Largely a carryover from the prewar TA and TB, the 1946–50 TC was far from cutting edge, but it was still a revelation for a nation unaccustomed to tiny, nimble, minimalist roadsters. It helped spawn the sports car market in the U.S. and launched countless racing careers—Carroll Shelby himself won his first race in a TC.

An updated TD arrived in 1950 with improved handling, better ride, wider wheels, and somewhat frumpier styling. With nearly 30,000 built, TDs are also more common than the other two models combined. The final T-Series, the TF, got fared-in headlamps, a different interior grille, more interior room, and in 1954 an available 1466cc (up from 1250) engine that brought performance up to a thumping 63 hp.

When it comes to values, the T-Series is pretty straightforward. Historically, it has been the picture of stability, with cars changing hands at moderate prices and a steady pace almost regardless of what happens in the rest of the market. There is, however, a hierarchy in the T-Series family.

The TC is the most crude and the least practical (they're all right-hand drive), but it's the purest and the original, so it's worth the most:$43,700 in #2 (Excellent, or like-new) condition. The TD is by far the most common and considered the least attractive, so this middle child is worth the least at $27,800. The TF is the fastest, most developed and arguably the best-looking, plus it's the last MG with the traditional prewar styling laid over an ash frame. TFs carry a #2 value of $36,500, while TF 1500s are worth $40,300.

By modern standards, these cars are almost more akin to carriage than car. They're not comfortable, they'll struggle to keep up with modern traffic, and they don't stop well. But they are fun, not to mention simple, rugged, and easy to live with and work on. Since they're all rather similar to own and similarly charming to look at, the TD is arguably the best value.

1955–62 Triumph TR3

Between cheap and cheerful MGs and more luxurious, expensive Jags slotted Triumph's attractive yet affordable sports cars. On American shores, the TR3 was Triumph's first sales success. Although the TR3's 1991cc overhead valve four is famously descended from an old Ferguson tractor, as a genuine 100-mph roadster and the first British production car with front disc brakes, it was a very popular road and rally racer in period. It feels a lot faster than it is, due in large part to its smooth torque delivery and dramatic, down-cut doors that expose its occupants to Mother Nature.

The first major update for the TR3 came in 1957 with the TR3A (never officially referred to as such by the factory), which added a wider and more prominent grille and such lavish equipment as door handles and a locking trunk. In order to placate U.S. dealers who feared people wouldn't like the new TR4 (spoiler: they did), Triumph introduced the TR3B (again, never officially referred to as such) in 1961 with a larger 2138cc, 105-hp engine.

TR3 prices peaked in 2013 and slowly decreased till last year, when they experienced a minor bump. Nevertheless, their median #2 value is down 15 percent over the past decade. The spread between TR3, TR3A and TR3B is small but significant with TR3s currently at $18,700, TR3As at $19,500, and TR3Bs at $22,500. Add $1000 or more for a factory hardtop.

With its swoops and flourishes, nothing looks quite like a TR3, especially for the money. Fortunately for enthusiasts, few signs point to them getting any more expensive: values have been quiet relative to other classic roadsters, and they aren't attracting new young buyers. Baby boomers and older account for 72 percent of insurance quotes for TR3s, even though those buyers make up just 41 percent of the market as a whole. Longer term, they'll likely remain a great value.

1969–76 Triumph TR6

The TR6 wasn't the last Triumph. That sad honor goes to the 1981 Acclaim, which was essentially a rebadged Honda. Nor was it the last Triumph sports car, as it was phased out in favor of the wedgey TR7 and TR8, aka "the shape of things to come." However, with its supple curves, body-on-frame construction, a throaty long-stroke engine, and minimal luxury inside, the TR6 was the last of the old-school Triumph roadsters.

Indeed, the TR6 was something of a dinosaur from the start. Introduced just in time for the Datsun 240Z to make "traditional" sports cars seem obsolete, the TR6's narrow cockpit, bouncy ride and rather crude independent suspension represented little change from the old TR4.

On the other side of the pond, the TR6's 2.5-liter pushrod six made a punchy 150 hp with Lucas mechanical injection, while twin Stromberg carbs stifled U.S.-spec cars to about 100 hp. For 1974, the TR6's chrome bumpers gained weight and sprouted large rubber overriders for U.S. safety regulations, further diminishing performance. Despite that, the engine's eager nature and satisfying exhaust note made it a back road joy. In a review on Top Gear, James May called the TR6 the "blokiest bloke's car ever built," and Paul Newman clinched his first SCCA National Championship in 1976 at the wheel of a silver and black TR6.

Triumph built over 90,000 TR6s, with the vast majority of them finding homes in America. Rust has claimed many, but TR6s remain easy to find in any condition and parts availability is generally quite good.

Unlike many other open-top Brits, TR6 prices haven't been sleepy at all. Not long ago, these were sub-$20,000 cars all day, but they started appreciating in the late 2010s. Median #2 value is up 50 percent over the last decade, to $34,300. The gap between great cars and average ones has widened considerably, though, and driver-quality TR6s can still be found in the mid-teens. The difference in price between early slim-bumper cars and later ones is minimal, but later ones came in louder '70s colors like Java Green or Magenta, if that's your thing. Desirable options include a luggage rack, overdrive, factory hardtop, and wire wheels.

Fifty years on, everything from the '70s looks old-fashioned. The 240Z may have outclassed the TR6 in period, but the Triumph's anachronisms don't stick out as much through the lens of time. Besides, with a straight-six and wood dash before you, the TR6 provides a Big Healey British experience at a significantly lower price.

1958–69 Austin-Healey Sprite

By the late 1950s, the Brits sold as many two-seaters to sports car-hungry Americans as they could screw together. But Donald Healey saw an opening at the market's entry point: young gearheads with sports car dreams who couldn't quite swing a Porsche or an Austin-Healey 100 didn't have many choices. The Sprite was Healey's answer, and for $1795 it bought you no windows, no outside door handles, no trunk lid, all-drum brakes, and 43 buzzing horsepower from BMC's 948cc A-Series four.

The headlights, which Healey planned on being retractable, were left in the fixed up position in order to save costs, and that awkward but adorable choice earned it the nickname "Bugeye" (or "Frogeye" back home in the U.K.). It wasn't just about looks, though: with precise handling thanks to its low weight and unibody construction, amateur racers across the country filled race grids with the little Sprite.

After 1961 and nearly 49,000 Mk I Sprites sold, Austin-Healey updated the model to a more conventional shape and fitted more powerful engines until discontinuing the Sprite after 1969. The nearly identical MG Midget soldiered on another decade until 1979. There's no beating the original, though. It's impossible not to be charmed by the Bugeye's smiley-faced grille and big, cartoon-eye headlights.

Cute counts for a lot in the world of little sports cars. With a #2 value of $28,000, a Bugeye is worth about twice as much as a later "square-body" Sprite. It's even pricier than the larger, more powerful MGB.

Like many other mainstream British roadsters, Sprite values have seen more growth over the past two years than they ever have before, but appreciation has been more pronounced for Bugeyes. Upgrades like disc brake conversions, later 1275-cc engines and five-speed swaps (often from a Miata) are common, but have little effect on value. Bugeyes were dirt cheap for decades and often modified, so factory originality isn't necessarily expected. What's more important is overall condition and quality of work performed.

1962–80 MGB

Until the Miata came along in 1989, the MGB was the de facto cheap roadster. While the Miata may have perfected the British formula and is itself now a classic, the MGB is still the go-to collector roadster. MG built 512,243 examples, and by count of cars insured with Hagerty, the MGB holds the titles of second-most popular sports car (after the Corvette) and second-most popular import (after the VW Beetle).

Launched at the 1962 Earls Court Motor Show with modern monocoque construction, the MGB carried on with incremental revisions till the closure of the Abingdon plant in 1980. In 1964, the 1978cc B-Series engine gained a five-main-bearing crankshaft, and after 1965 cars switched the "pull handle" for the doors to a push-button. The MGB GT arrived in 1966 with a rear roofline by Pininfarina, and although it's technically a 2+2, you wouldn't want to ride back there unless you were a piece of luggage. The 1967 MGB revised the interior trim and seats, the 1968 cars got a padded dash board, and headrests came in 1969. The 1970 MGB got a recessed black grille, rubber tips on the chrome bumper overriders, and Rostyle wheels. The biggest change, though, came halfway through the 1974 model year when the 'B was festooned with huge black polyurethane bumpers. A raised ride height messed with handling, and the engine was robbed of horsepower, of which MGs had little to spare.

Like most other MGs, MGBs are a known quantity with steady prices. Over the past couple of years, though, all the activity elsewhere in the market has caught up to these British staples, and good cars have gotten pricey.

Early MGB roadsters currently carry a #2 value of $22,900, while those in #3 (Good) condition command $11,500-$12K. MGB GTs, meanwhile, are $18,200 in #2 condition and $7200–$7500 in #3 condition. Appreciation over the past five years isn't much in dollar terms, but #2 values are up about 10 percent while driver-quality cars haven't appreciated as much.

The 1970–74 cars—the last of the chrome bumper 'Bs—currently carry #2 values of $22,200 to $22,600 in roadster form and $21,300 to $21,500 in GT coupe form. This generation of MGB has, surprisingly, appreciated 42 percent since January 2020, bringing values more in line with the purer, earlier cars. Perhaps people aren't as turned off by the padded dash and other trim differences as they used to be.

The later, compromised rubber bumper MGBs, meanwhile, have been left behind. Their #2 values are down nearly 4 percent over the last five years to $15,100. The final 1980 models are worth more at $16,400, and one option to look out for is the "Limited Edition," which added special black and silver paint, alloy wheels, an air dam, and sport steering wheel. These 'Bs can command $1500 or more over a base example.

The post These 5 British roadsters are holding their value—or better appeared first on Hagerty Media.

BMW’s 3.0 CSL Hommage could save the manuals … but do you care?

Intake: BMW has dropped the first official shots of a production-bound version of its CSL Hommage, first revealed as a concept in 2020. Although heavily wrapped in a camouflage stitched from images of other M cars, some key details are clear. The throwback to 1972’s homologation special has significantly smaller kidney grilles than the modern-day M4 CSL upon which it’s based. (BMW revealed that 3640-pound bruiser last month; you can get all the specs here.) There’s a new hood design and flared fenders that distantly resemble those of the original 3.0 CSL “Batmobile.” At the rear you’ll find wider arches, a reprofiled bumper, and quad exhausts. A sizeable trunk lid spoiler and a neat roof-mounted aerofoil top things off. Better still is the message “6MT FTW” tagged on the rear, which seems to promise the CSL will feature a six-speed manual transmission. (The M4 CSL is auto-only.) Another tag—”we like it rare”—alludes to the extremely low production run, likely to be as low as 50 cars priced at an eye watering $650,000 a pop.

Exhaust: We’re not so sure nostalgia is worth over a half-million, in this case, even if the Hommage does indeed arrive as the most powerful M4 variant with a manual transmission. An original 3.0 CSL in world-class condition costs nearly half this turbocharged throwback’s sticker price: $373,000. Why not buy a second version of the real deal? Heck, you could have one for your collection and one for your race stable. 

Triumph purchases Oset, strengthens off-road and electric portfolios

Intake: Triumph has really been pushing to enter the off-road—and more specifically the motocross—segment for roughly a year. Its latest move is to acquire Oset, a brand that is focused on kid-sized electric bikes. Oset has been in business for 18 years and its current line, which does include one adult-sized machine, is all-electric. This move will bring some off-road tech into Triumph’s knowledge base while also allowing Oset to expand into Triumph dealers.

Exhaust: At first glance, Oset doesn’t appear to have the technology Triumph needs to realize its goal of a motocross- and enduro-dominated catalog, but we are thinking this acquisition is just as much a crime of opportunity as it is a strategic ploy. The combination of electric tech and child-sized machines sets Triumph on a path to captures riders from day one, an opportunity all the other off-road competition already has.

As of 2035, the ICE age is officially over in Europe

Intake: After 16 hours of heated debate in Luxembourg, the European Union has agreed to ban new gasoline and diesel combustion-powered vehicles from sale in the bloc’s 27 countries from 2035. Despite objections from several nations who complained that wealth inequality would make it much harder for buyers to go all-electric, and from Italy, which wants a stay of execution for its legendary sports car makers, the new rules call for a “100 percent CO2 emissions reduction target by 2035 for new cars and vans.” Five years earlier a new Euro 7 emissions standard will require a reduction in CO2 by 55 percent for cars and 50 percent for vans.

Exhaust: The reality is that the demise of the internal-combustion engine in Europe will come even faster. Brexit Britain has opted to ban gasoline and diesel engines in new cars in 2030 and the European market is already shifting rapidly to EVs. 

Who drives a 2003 Elantra just 5356 miles … and sells it on Bring a Trailer?

Intake: Over the past few years, we’ve seen some absolutely dazzling cars cross the digital auction block at Bring a Trailer. We’ve seen a few puzzling ones as well—like this 2003 Elantra GT hatchback. Listed by a private party from Peoria, Arizona, this silver over black example has a mere 5356 miles on its 135-hp 2-liter inline-four. The GT got a five-speed manual and sport-tuned suspension, although 2003 was well before Hyundai offered serious sporting machines such as the soon-departing Veloster N. It comes with a clean CarFax report and the original window sticker, which shows that new, this little machine cost just $15,074 (just under $24K in today’s dollars). With six days left in the no-reserve auction, bids are already up to $5100.

Exhaust: We know that turn-of-the-century Japanese cars have become a hot collector segment as of late, but could Korean metal from the same era be a new collector frontier? Given Hyundai and Kia’s brand perception at the time—cut-rate and cheap—a burgeoning collector market doesn’t seem likely. This Elantra is probably on BaT because of that paltry odometer reading. “Some bidders on Bring a Trailer place low mileage above any promise of collectability,” explained Hagerty Price Guide editor Greg Ingold. “That’s likely why such a generic car as this is on the auction platform.” Your author has a bit of a soft spot for these Hyundais; a remarkably ratty Elantra helped him through a complicated time in his post-college life and, although it’s now been turned to scrap, he still thinks highly of it.

The post BMW’s CSL Hommage may get manual, EU bans ICE after 2035, 5356-mile Hyundai econobox hits BaT appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Triumph’s promotional film for the 1977 Silver Jubilee Bonneville was a classic that still resonates today. A middle-aged former biker, having abandoned motorcycles to mortgage, marriage and kids, catches sight of the Bonnie on TV—and something snaps.

He leaps up, digs out his old helmet, goggles, and riding jacket, and rushes out to blow the contents of his building society account on a silver 750cc Triumph. Moments later he’s cruising down the road, huge grin on his face, totally rejuvenated by the best of British biking.

This year’s Platinum Jubilee pageant, celebrating the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, is another 45 years on, but the Silver Jubilee Bonneville still shines brightly. Cruising through tranquil Surrey countryside, with the parallel-twin motor delivering torquey low-rev performance and the soft, deep exhaust note providing a stirring soundtrack, the Triumph highlights the appeal of classic British motorcycling.

Before I’m accused of viewing the Bonneville through rose-tinted goggles, I’ll add that it had earlier annoyed me with several ailments, ranging from leaks to a notchy gearbox. Compared to Japanese rivals led by Suzuki’s fast and fine-handling GS750 four, which was released in the same year, the Bonneville was old when it was new. But if the limited-edition model that Triumph created to honor Queen Elizabeth’s quarter-century on the throne had its faults, it also had plenty going for it.

Back in 1977, creating a special Bonneville to mark the Silver Jubilee offered a welcome sales opportunity to a firm in terminal decline. In those days, Triumph’s factory at Meriden, in Coventry, was being run by the workers’ co-operative that had taken control after a sit-in that had begun four years earlier, following management plans to shut the loss-making factory and move production to BSA’s plant in Birmingham.

The Jubilee bike was essentially a cosmetic update of the standard T140 Bonneville, the 744cc, twin-carburetor roadster that dated back to the original 650cc T120 Bonneville of 1959. Its main feature was the special silver paint scheme with red, white and blue highlights, plus extra chrome on parts including forks, engine covers, and rear light.

The seat was blue with red pinstriping; and the wheels, which were originally fitted with Dunlop Red Arrow tires, featured red, white, and blue rims. Like the standard Bonnie, the Jubilee was built both in U.K. and American export spec, the latter with higher bars and smaller fuel tank. It came with a signed certificate of authenticity from Triumph, and with approval from Buckingham Palace.

This well-preserved U.K.-market model felt light and compact as I threw a leg over its seat; not surprising given its weight of just 187 kg (412 pounds). After I’d turned on the ignition near the left headlamp bracket and applied the carb-mounted choke, a gentle kick (no electric boot to help here) was enough to fire-up the motor, which came to life with a muted but pleasant twin-cylinder exhaust note.

First impressions were mixed. The combination of slightly upturned bars, forward-set footpegs and thick dual-seat was comfortable in town, and allowed a slight crouch into the wind that made higher speeds painless on more open roads. The motor pulled well at low revs but felt woolly in the midrange and wouldn’t rev out—until I realized the choke was vibrating partly shut.

Tightening a screw with a coin (a period accessory these days) cured that problem and the Triumph then ran much better, still hesitating slightly at about 55 mph in top gear before clearing to pull strongly until the inevitable parallel twin vibration began to intrude. Peak output was a claimed 52 hp at 6200 rpm, giving a top speed of just over 110 mph. At an indicated 75 mph the Bonnie was reasonably smooth, but upping the revs increased the buzz through seat and footpegs.

The motor lost marks in a couple of other ways, too. After stopping to top up with petrol I was less than impressed, though hardly surprised, to notice several black oil spots under the engine. Shortly afterwards I was miffed to find petrol soaking the right leg of my jeans, thanks to a leaky filler cap.

Another irritation was the gearchange, which was horribly notchy. Many enthusiasts reckon Triumph’s left-foot change was never as good as earlier right-footers, but most T140s (including the two I’ve owned) shift much more smoothly than this one, which required a firm left boot.

There was very little wrong with the handling, which in ’77 was good enough to let the Triumph keep up with all but the hardest ridden opposition, at least on a twisty road. Stability was excellent and the steering, although heavy by modern standards, allowed the Bonnie to be flicked around with satisfying ease.

This bike’s forks felt slightly harsh despite the rubber-mounted bars, but the simple Girling shocks gave an impressively plush ride. The narrow rubber gripped fine, and the single disc brake at each end worked pretty well although the front lacked feel. Thankfully I didn’t have the chance to discover whether the old problem of delay in wet weather was still an issue.

Such tribulations were frequent back in 1977, and didn’t prevent the Silver Jubilee Bonneville from being a success for ailing Triumph, despite costing £1149 to the standard T140’s £1012. The firm had planned a limited edition of 1000 bikes for the U.S. market, plus 1000 for Britain and elsewhere, and had to build an extra 400 machines in November to satisfy demand.

But although the Jubilee’s sales helped make 1977 a promising year for the Meriden co-op, the workers’ optimism proved misplaced. Shortly afterwards, the weakening dollar was partly responsible for a sales slump in Triumph’s vital American market, while debts continued to rise. Production was drastically cut; more workers were made redundant. Although Meriden struggled on long enough to introduce electric-start and eight-valve versions of the Bonnie, the end finally came in 1983.

Since then, of course, John Bloor has made Triumph great once again, while Queen Elizabeth has continued majestically on to her 70th year on the throne, albeit with a few family-generated bumps in the road. A new-generation Platinum Jubilee Bonneville would surely be well deserved.

***

1977 Triumph T140 Bonneville Silver Jubilee

Highs: Regal charm and poise.

Lows: Vulgar vibes and leaks.

Summary: A stylish Seventies souvenir.

—

Price (in U.S.A.): Project: $4500; Daily rider: $7200; Showing off: $10,000

Engine: Air-cooled parallel twin

Capacity: 744 cc

Power: 52 hp @ 6200 rpm

Weight: 412 pounds without fluids

Top speed: 115 mph

Via Hagerty UK

The post The Triumph Silver Jubilee Bonneville’s reign was short-lived appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Fifty years ago, Fiat brought mid-engined sophistication to the masses with its X1/9. The TR7 was Triumph’s riposte, but was it ever enough to restore faith in the U.K.’s once great sports car industry?

Welcome to Retro Rematch, a series from our friends at Hagerty UK, which pits contemporary rivals against one another in the here and now. Check out Hagerty UK here.

You could say that the writing had been on the wall for some time. In 1968, British Leyland Motor Corporation’s multi-brand offering included some of the most successful mainstream sports cars in history. The MG Midget and B, Triumph Spitfire and TR6 were all in their prime. But by the mid-‘70s, their ‘50s-derived design and engineering was wearing thin, and the market was ripe for a new kind of affordable sports car. This time, though, it came not from Britain, but Italy.

Take a bow, the Fiat X1/9

Launched 50 years ago, in 1972, the Fiat X1/9 gave a shot in the arm to the enthusiast car sector. Its clever mid-engined platform was a revelation at such a low price, and its futurist wedge design was right on point for buyers ready for a new flavor of sports car. That it was intelligently packaged, practical and drove like a dream must have been the worst nightmare for Triumph, MG et al.

They may already have had an inkling, though. In 1969, Autobianchi had shown an alluring concept based on its A112 model, called the Runabout Barchetta. Fiat purchased Autobianchi soon after, and the concept was put on ice, until company chief Gianni Agnelli realized that it had the makings of a perfect successor to the company’s 850 Spider.

Development started immediately, with Fiat using its all-new and highly advanced front-wheel-drive 128 model as a base, but re-engineered with a mid-engined configuration. Design of the X1/9 was by Marcello Gandini at Bertone and its 128-derived 1290cc, inline-four engine by Aurelio Lampredi, which gave the car instant provenance from the creators of the Lamborghini Miura and Ferrari V-12.

Mounting the high-revving, 73-hp engine amidships, gave the car a rearward bias for good traction, but confined major masses well within its axles, giving it highly responsive handling. The 128’s MacPherson struts were employed all around, and braking was by un-servoed discs at each corner.

The X1/9 was immensely practical. There was a generous cargo area at the front, large enough for not just luggage, but also for its targa roof panel to slot neatly above any contents. An additional trunk behind the transverse engine was also good for two soft overnight bags.

It was safe, too. Anticipating new U.S. safety regulations, the X1/9 became one of only two cars to pass the impending 50-mph head-on crash tests. However, the extra weight needed to make it so strong (which still only contributed to a 1940-pound weight for the first-series model) blunted performance somewhat, with 100 mph being only just attainable.

Which is why, despite a positive press reception, Fiat’s U.K. importer opted not to take the car after its debut at the Turin Motor Show in 1972, holding out for a more potent 124 Spider replacement that never materialized. But in 1977, it finally grasped the nettle, and never looked back. Despite Motor magazine only achieving a maximum speed of 97 mph and a 0-60 mph figure of 12.2 seconds, its tester proclaimed: “(The X1/9) is stylish, fun to drive, economical and next to our own aging rag tops is about the nearest you can get to real wind-in-the hair motoring at the price … What a car it would be with a bigger engine, though!”

Which is precisely what the X1/9 received the following year in time for the facelifted model’s world debut at the British Motor Show in October 1978. Taking the new Strada model’s 1500-cc version of the Lampredi engine, the X1/9 became the car it always should have been. With power now up to 85-hp, as well as a commensurate lift in torque, performance was markedly improved. While it was hardly the cheapest car in its class, it resonated with buyers, and even when Fiat stopped final assembly at its Lingotto plant in Turin in 1981, Bertone continued full production, re-badging the car as the “Bertone X1/9.”

Production drew to a close in 1989 after 17 years, with 160,000 X1/9s sold globally. But as Motor opined when it welcomed the X1/9 to its pages: “Its closest rival is Leyland’s TR7 …”. But exactly how close was it?

The TR7 brought a tear to Giugiaro’s eye

“Oh my God! They’ve done it to the other side as well.”

Allegedly, these were the words uttered when Giorgetto Giugiaro saw the TR7 coupé at its Geneva Show debut in 1975. The legendary designer had mistakenly assumed that the car on display was a concept, split, as they often were, to show two design approaches. But what he actually saw was Triumph’s new two-seater sports car in its final production guise.

To find out why the TR7 looked the way it did you need to go back six years to 1969. MG and Triumph, despite both being owned by BLMC since ’68, remained rivals. So when Corporation chief Donald Stokes decreed that a new sports car was needed to mitigate lost U.S. Triumph and MG sales, due to the launch of rivals like the Datsun 240Z and Porsche 914, each brand started to develop its own new sports car.

Interestingly, MG’s—known as “ADO21″—was mid-engined, whereas Triumph’s “Bullet” concept was configured as a more conventional front-engined, rear-driver. Only one car was to be approved for production, and with U.S.-buyer feedback equating conventionality with reliability, Triumph’s proposal won the day.

With Spen King heading up engineering development of the new car, Harris Mann, fresh from designing Austin’s new Allegro, was drafted in to the program. Dead-set against giving the new Triumph a traditional look, he later told Classic Cars: “Subconsciously, I was influenced by the Lancia Stratos. That car, with its low front end and interesting body design features, gave a completely new look to the sports car.”

Originally conceived with a targa-top, the TR7 eventually appeared as a fixed-head coupé, with Triumph initially fearing U.S. regulations would kill off open-topped cars. Its radical design, which cleverly integrated the U.S.-mandated 5-mph bumpers from launch, while introducing a distinctive swage line from its bustled rear to its ultra-low front end, disguised a well-engineered car, but one with orthodox underpinnings. The Dolomite’s slant-four engine was uprated to 1998 cc (the Rover V-8-powered TR8 came later) and mated to a four-speed gearbox (later five-speed). Suspension was by a well-located live rear axle and independently sprung at the front, with braking courtesy of front discs and rear drums.

With first cars from Triumph’s new Speke factory going to the U.S., U.K. sales didn’t start until May 1976, the British press praising the TR7 cabin’s practicality, size and comfort, but remaining polarized over Harris Mann’s exterior design. That changed in 1979 with the launch of the Michelotti-designed convertible, which buyers found altogether easier on the eyes. It was also marginally lighter (by 20 kg, or 44 pounds) than the coupé, despite having a strengthening box-section added to tie together the B-posts, as well as reinforced quarter panels.

All of a sudden, Triumph had an answer to Fiat’s newly revised X1/9 1500—they were even priced comparably, the Fiat only costing around £400 less in 1980. Alas, production woes linked to industrial action resulted in variable quality for the TR7, and despite a warm press reception to the convertible after its U.K. launch in March 1980, by May the following year British Leyland announced that it was to end all TR7 production, with the last cars rolling off the line that October. In all, 115,000 TR7s were built during its six-year production life, nearly 29,000 of which were convertibles.

Driving the X1/9

Andy Rowley’s immaculate and original 35,000-mile Gran Finale edition X1/9 is, as its name suggests, from 1989, the final year of build. As such, it wears “Bertone” badges, rather than Fiat, but in almost every other respect it represents the original facelifted 1500 model from 1979.

You sit in the driver’s seat adopting a slightly long-arm, short-leg position. Facing you is a lovely, thin-rimmed, three-spoke leather-trimmed steering wheel devoid of any branding. Four dials for oil pressure, water temp, speed and revs (the latter’s needle sweeping from right to left to its 6500-rpm redline) are all present and correct.

The sun is out, so the targa-top is stored away in the front boot as we set out on our rural Shropshire test route. At lower speeds the Fiat feels taught and instantly biddable; its unassisted steering is light, despite relatively high gearing, and alive with feedback from the road’s surface.

As we pick up speed, ignoring the shakes and shimmies from assorted interior trim, the X1/9’s control over crests, and slicing through a series of well-sighted bends, is impeccable; it just asks for more, and only prudence and the fact that it’s not my car keeps me from fully exploiting its potential. But even powering through an open bend for photography reveals only the merest trace of oversteer on these dry roads, accompanied by mild body roll over the rear axle.

Power from the zesty 1500 “four” is delivered with the kind of brio that makes you want to dip into its upper-rev band time and time again, as you keep it on-cam, quick-shifting the slightly wooden, but accurate, five-speed gear mechanism. A few months ago, I tested a 1988 Ferrari 328 GTB, and to me, the X1/9 feels like a scaled-down version of that car. Poised, sharp and exciting, and completely belying its 50-year vintage.

Driving the TR7 DHC

Like the Fiat, Steve Smith’s lightly modified TR7 Drophead Convertible is from the last year of production (in this case, 1981). It wears 14-inch, period-correct Revolution wheels, a Safety Devices rollover bar, and Spax Adjustable dampers at the rear, but mechanically it’s standard, save for electronic ignition and a more free-flowing exhaust manifold.

Compared with the Fiat’s cabin, the TR7’s is a more salubrious place to be, with larger seats, more shoulder and leg-room and more comprehensively equipped, with twice as many HVAC controls and a six-clock instrument binnacle. You sit higher than in the Fiat, but it’s easier to find a more comfortable driving position.

Also like the X1/9, the Triumph is a practical car, with an easy-to-erect soft-top, and boot large enough for two golf-bags. Where it scores over the Fiat is engine accessibility for carrying out maintenance; the longitudinal engine is positioned well back, mainly behind the front axle, leaving ample room to the sides and front of the unit.

And to drive? Chalk and cheese with the Fiat. To me, the TR7 was/is the ultimate evolution of the MG B/MG BGT. Over gnarled road surfaces, it feels better screwed together than the Fiat, accompanied by a ride which is more pliant, but—as you pick up speed—less controlled and more prone to feeling like a product of the ‘70s, which the X1/9 does not.

That said, there’s ample grip, with only mild understeer on tighter bends when you push on. Smith’s TR has had variable (via a rotary control) electric power steering (EPAS) fitted at some point, and while the standard ratio remains, with assistance on or off, it feels vague on turn-in and never inspires confidence like the Fiat’s steering does.

The TR’s engine is a peach, though. Sure, it’s not one for revs, but it’s lusty from low-down, and you find yourself motoring along at 500 rpm less than in the Fiat, enjoying the subtle pop-pop from its exhaust on the over-run, content that this is still a superb convertible in which to cover big miles in comfort.

A winner?

If you start with the premise of “to each their own,” there is no clear victor here. The TR7 DHC would have been the natural progression for many TR4/5/6 and MG B drivers, because despite its modernist aesthetic, deep down it embodied a chassis and powertrain approach that was well-proven and well-loved among traditionalists.

The Fiat X1/9, on the other hand, shook convention to the core. Subjectively, not only was its futurist design better resolved, but the engineering that underpinned it was so advanced and brilliantly well-judged that it resulted in one of the best-driving, affordable cars of any type from the ‘70s/’80s.

That both are criminally undervalued today (both our well-preserved test cars are insured for under £10,000, or $13,000) is as good a reason as any to start trawling the classifieds before prices start to rise.

1989 Fiat (Bertone) X1/9 1500 vs. 1981 Triumph TR7 Drophead Coupé

Price range (Fair #4 to Concours #1): $8000 – $26,400 vs. $3600 – $16,100 (£4000 – £21,000 vs. £3000 – £12,000)
Engine: 1498cc inline four-cylinder vs. 1998cc inline four-cylinder
Power: 85 hp @ 6000 rpm vs. 105 hp @ 5500 rpm
Torque: 87 lb-ft @3200 rpm vs. 119 lb-ft @ 3500 rpm
Gearbox: 5-speed manual vs. 5-speed manual
Curb weight: 2028 lbs vs. 2248 lbs (920 kg vs. 1020 kg)
0-60 mph: 9.9 secs vs. 9.5 secs
Top speed: 107 mph vs. 114 mph

The post Retro Rematch: Fiat X1/9 vs. Triumph TR7 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In classic car circles you hear a lot about the difference between collectors and investors, as if they’re warring tribes. Truth is, most of us are little of both—it’s possible to love Old Car Smell and at the same time be savvy about what things are worth. The sharper distinction is between everyday investors, who primarily look for stability, and those who are purely chasing growth. You know, speculators. It’s the difference between the family who takes out a mortgage to buy a house and hopes they’ll make a bit when it’s time to sell in a decade and subprime mortgage bundlers.

The vast majority of car collectors—including those who work here—fall into the former category. Which is why the current market, in spite and because of its astronomical appreciation, can make us a bit jittery. Appreciation is nice, but what about stability?

In fact, there’s a lot of stability in the classic car world. You just need to figure out where to look. Hagerty Insider does this regularly by calculating vehicles’ annualized volatility score. Considering vehicles that have run in the Hagerty Price Guide for at least 3.5 years, our data analysts plot percent changes in value over time.

A lower score denotes the car’s market value is fairly stable, with higher scores indicating volatility—they can swing wildly from one price guide update to the next. Keep in mind that volatility—or lack thereof—does not indicate the car in question is a good or bad buy. In fact, these are often the cars on which you can make out like a bandit. And if you’re willing and able to hold through the dips, you can simply wait for the right time to cash in. These are not, however, the ones to bet the farm on.

Most volatile

1986–1989 Mercedes-Benz 560SL

Annualized volatility score: 28.3 percent

The rising values of 1980s Benzes continue to keep us entertained. The creamy, cushy R107-generation 560SL is one of the hotter buys right now, as evident from its increased inclusion on major auction dockets across the country. The biggest spike in value occurred back in 2015 when we saw a 100 percent increase, but the plot graph shows a wild variance of values as we continue through 2022.

Vehicle condition factors heavily here. Pristine examples (Condition #1) have dipped less often than the basket cases (Condition #4). However, the complexity of these vehicles means that turning the latter into the former typically doesn’t pay. The old adage applies here—buy the best example you can afford.

1988 BMW M5 (E28)

Annualized volatility score: 38.6 percent

Another factor in the volatility of newer collectibles is that not every seller has gotten the memo that they are, in fact, collectible. That applies to the 560SL and also to the runner up on our volatility list, the 1988 BMW M5. Those of us who refresh Bring a Trailer every morning know they're growing in value, but away from the spotlight, there are still retired dentists selling tired M5s to twentysomething enthusiasts for fun money. The price realized for any given M5 thus can vary depending on who is selling and who shows up to buy.

1989–1991 Chrysler TC by Maserati

Annualized volatility score: 31.1 percent

At the risk of getting all Warren Buffet here, one of the things to consider with any investment is its intrinsic value. Assessing that can be tricky when it comes to cars—we all love what we love—yet there are factors to weigh. Beauty. Performance. Racing pedigree. Historical significance. The cars that peg the needle on all those are worth the most money and also tend to be the most stable. Come what may, a Mercedes-Benz 300SL will always be worth a lot of money to someone, because it has intrinsic value.

A Chrysler TC by Maserati, to put it very kindly, has less intrinsic value than a 300SL. The tarted-up K-Car has, like fanny packs and compact discs, benefited from a combination of Gen–Xers' nostalgia and Gen–Zers' appreciation of irony to the tune of some major increases in recent Hagerty Price Guide updates. But it's also taken a few dives, which makes sense.

That's not to say the TC can't be desirable. The optional 2.2-liter turbo four-cylinder was something of a screamer, with Mahle pistons and a Cosworth head. Better still, it came with a five-speed manual transmission. Not bad for a ride that can still be bought in decent shape for four figures. But if you're betting on future appreciation, be aware it's just that—a bet.

2017–Present Ford GT

Annualized volatility score: 29.6 percent

The new Ford GT’s volatility index graph paints a cautionary tale for would-be speculators. For the most part, it appears the people scraping the most cash off the GT’s carbon fiber hood are original owners who sell their low-mileage cars for double—and sometimes triple—the original purchase price.

We’d also reckon a portion of the volatility rides on spec differences and special editions, along with Ford’s periodic announcements of extended—or ending—production of its second-generation supercar.

Of course, the above factors really only matter in the short term. Down the road, it's hard to imagine these LeMans-winning supercars going anywhere but up.

Least volatile

1961–1964 Pontiac Bonneville

Annualized volatility score: 2.2 percent

This big-body Pontiac might not have the same fervent following as the later GTO, but the third-gen Bonneville is one of the most stylish and elegant American cars from the early 1960s. It’s also one of the most predictable on the market, with just a 2.2 percent volatility rating. Aside from a recent mini-spike in value, the ‘ol Bonnie is sturdy and stable; outside of the rare 421 Super Duty, these fall into the “cruiser” category, with most owners opting for casual drives rather than explosive light-to-light pulls. As such, the pool of Bonneville buyers is familiar and unwavering.

1955–1957 Pontiac Star Chief

Annualized volatility score: 1.6 percent

Another show cruiser from Pontiac. A quick glance at the plot graph might have you thinking values of the Star Chief are all over the place, but those variances show a slide of only around 1.6 percent when averaged out.

1953–1955 Triumph TR2

Annualized volatility score: 1.7 percent

As we noted in a recent Sale of the Week, British roadsters are common, affordable, well-known, and the merits of ownership have long been established. So, you know what you’re getting when you get one, and so does the enthusiast on the receiving end when you decide to sell.

1957–1972 Lotus Seven

Annualized volatility score: 1.8 percent

Funny, we wouldn’t have pegged the peaked-out, hard-nosed, ultra-spartan Lotus Seven to be associated with anything remotely “stable.” But, our updated Hagerty Price Guide shows a tidy 1.8 percent rate of volatility; likely another case of cars sought by a fixed pool of buyers, as these are hardcore cars with absolutely nothing in the way of creature comforts. Most of the sinusoidal action on the Seven’s market chart rises (or falls) between baseline (zero) and a peak of five percent, but keep an eye on Sevens going forward—our January update saw a four percent boost.

The post Which classics are the safest bets and which are risky business? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With the last of the snow melting up north, it’s time to shut off the heat, open up the garage, and declare that driving season has finally arrived. Once spring has sprung, what better way to enjoy the open road than in a convertible?

We’ve updated our price guide twice since last winter began, and it should come as no surprise that just about everything fun on four wheels is more expensive that it was a year ago. Values of some traditional “budget” or “underappreciated” collector cars even stretched past what we would consider entry-level territory. Cheap classics are a good thing for the hobby, so this development was somewhat concerning—but fear not. We ran through the data and found a plethora of vehicles that, even in #2 (Excellent, or like-new) condition can still be bought for under $20,000. And because spring is here at least, here are seven convertibles.

1962–80 Triumph Spitfire

Median #2 value: $15,600

Cheap and cheerful motoring is what old British roadsters are all about. This being 2022, though, things aren’t quite so cheap, even if the cars remain plenty cheerful. Over the past few months, condition #2 values for chrome-bumper MGBs and early Sunbeam Alpines slipped past 20 grand, and these days even driver-quality Triumph TR3s and TR4s are in $20K territory. Fortunately, anybody on the hunt for a cheap English two-seater is still spoiled for choice, especially if they’re willing to think a little smaller.

Take the Triumph Spitfire, for instance. Carrying the name of a Battle of Britain–winning fighter plane and wearing shape penned by Giovanni Michelotti, this roadster is just plain cool. With over 300,000 built over 18 years, it’s also plentiful, and parts are easy to find. Thanks to a clamshell hood and simple engineering, it’s easy to work on if (erm, when) it breaks. It’s always more fun to drive a slow car fast, right? Well, you can drive a Spitfire like a bat out of hell in the right lane even as CR-Vs and Outbacks breeze past in the left. And even though median values for #2 examples are up 34 percent over the past two years, they’re still affordable. Scruffier, driver-quality Spitfires can still be had for well under five figures.

Although the Spitfire changed significantly over its nearly two-decade run, #2 values are broadly similar, holding steady in the mid-teens (add a few hundred bucks for a factory hardtop) because each version has its pluses and minuses. Earlier ones with swing-axle rear suspension have tricky handling at the limit, but they look better. Later models have better suspension and more creature comforts but aren’t quite as handsome.

Other open-air Brits under $20K include the Lotus-powered Jensen-Healey, Morris Minor 1000 convertible, TVR 280i, and Series II Sunbeam Alpine. The equivalent MG Midget/Austin-Healey Sprite also offers a similar experience to the Spit but commands a few grand less.

1997–04 Porsche Boxster

Median #2 value: $18,500

Alas, there are almost no cheap Porsches anymore. The 996-generation 911s (1999–05) have started to appreciate, 944s have crossed the $20K mark, and even four-cylinder 914s carry a #2 value of 40 grand or more. So it seems strange that clean examples of early base-model Boxsters, which started at over 40 grand when new, are still so cheap in 2022. Sure, the Boxster isn’t the best-looking thing to wear a Porsche crest—and it has been the butt of many a joke—but you could say the exact same thing about the 914, a car that’s now twice as expensive as its droptop relative.

Boxsters are well-balanced and fun to drive but still comfortable, and with one trunk in the front and another behind the engine, they’re more practical than they might appear. Their reputation was tarnished by the infamous IMS bearing failure issue, but after two decades any blown engines are unlikely and some cars have had their motors preemptively fixed.

Other sub-$20K German droptops that rubbed shoulders with the Boxster include base model (non-Kompressor) Mercedes-Benz SLKs, early BMW Z3s, and Audi TT Quattro Roadsters. All have their strengths, but the Boxster is the enthusiast's choice. Comparing it to the Benz and the Bimmer, Car and Driver concludes: "If there has been a contest going on among BMW, Mercedes-Benz and Porsche to see which German automaker could build the best-performing small roadster ... Porsche should be passing out cigars right now."

1985–90 Alfa Romeo Spider Graduate

Median #2 value: $18,400

Even more so than the Spitfire, the original Alfa Spider is one of those cars that kept factories buzzing for decades. Running from the 1966–94 model years, it's also one of a precious few made-in-Italy two-seaters that an average enthusiast could dream of parking in their garage. That said, #2 values for even the cheaper, later Alfa Spiders have surpassed 20 grand over the past couple of years. In fact, there's only one version left under our $20K ceiling, and that's the Spider "Graduate."

Named as a nod to the 1967 film in which Dustin Hoffman's most memorable costar (other than Mrs. Robinson, maybe) is his red Duetto Spider, the Spider Graduate was introduced for 1985 as a cheaper entry-level Alfa. It came with steel wheels, manual windows, and vinyl seats, but it's powered by the same famously eager 2.0-liter twin-cam four as the better-equipped Quadrifoglio and Veloce models. Same style and same driving experience, but at a tempting discount.

1985–95 Suzuki Samurai

Median #2 value: $15,100

You don't need racing pedigree and a storied badge on the nose to enjoy a top-down drive. You don't need roads, really, if you have a capable rock-hopping 4x4 like the Suzuki Samurai (called the Jimny overseas). An affordable, reliable pint-sized 4x4 with similar dimensions to the original WWII Jeep makes a whole lot of sense, and yet nobody sells anything quite like the original Samurai in the U.S. anymore. That's one reason why we picked the Samurai as one of the car most likely to appreciate in value this year.

And appreciate it has. Median #2 values jumped 22 percent with the latest update of the Hagerty Price Guide, but that stat is still just $15,100 (add $1000 for a hardtop). As of this writing, the most expensive Samurai in our price guide is $17,100.

Samurais may have been popular with '90s sorority sisters and surfer dudes, and they may need a tailwind to get a speeding ticket, but they are tough little things. With a curb weight barely over a ton, a Samurai weighs less than almost any sports car on the market today, and with twin live axles on leaf springs and a hi-lo transfer case, it can hang with the big guys in the rough and tumble. Clean examples are getting hard to find, but they are out there.

1982–85 Buick Riviera Convertible

Median #2 value: $17,650

If the noise of the Triumph and the spine-stressing ride of the Suzuki don't sound appealing, then there are plenty of good ol' fashioned American luxo-cruisers to waft you down the boulevard. Unfortunately, many of the big Cadillacs and Lincolns that come to mind exceed our budget in #2 condition—but there are alternatives.

Take the Buick Riviera convertible, for example. The sixth-gen Riviera shared its E-body platform with the Cadillac Eldorado and Oldsmobile Toronado, and for 1982 Buick introduced a soft-top version. It was the first-ever Riviera convertible and, in fact, the first convertible from any GM brand since the '76 Eldorado.

Droptop Rivieras started life as standard coupes before they were shipped to ASC in Lansing, Michigan, for an extensive conversion process. The two-part process and shipping costs helps to explain why they were so expensive; At nearly $24,000, a droptop was $10K more than a base coupe. Riviera convertibles were only available in White or Red Firemist with either a Claret or a Maple interior.

The sixth-gen Riviera has the unenviable title of Buick's first front-wheel-drive car, but who cares where the power's going when you're on a cruise listening to tunes? Only about 4000 convertible Rivs were built, so if you can't find one that hasn't been trashed or turned into a slab, other domestic convertibles under $20K include the 1971–75 Pontiac Grand Ville, 1988–91 Buick Reatta, and 1987–93 Cadillac Allante.

2006–10 Pontiac Solstice/Saturn Sky

Median #2 value: $14,800 for Solstice; $18,500 for Solstice GXP; $14,900 for Sky; $18,000 for Sky Redline

The list of American sports cars that don't end in 'vette is, sadly, a short one. GM in particular has always been unease about building two-seaters, scared of buyers straying away from Chevrolet's precious two-seater. And even though Pontiac was supposed to be GM's performance division, its only real sports car was the 2006–10 Solstice.

GM's Miata-fighting four-cylinder drop top isn't perfect. Its 2.4-liter Ecotec four was never designed for track duty and instead came from boring GM front-drivers like the Pontiac G6 and Chevy HHR. Its five-speed gearbox hailed from the Chevy Colorado pickup. The interior is standard 2000s GM: cheap plastic everywhere. It is a fun driver for the price, however. Road & Track concludes "it's not perfect, but it's a pure, satisfying roadster for 20 grand."

On track, the Solstice won the SCCA Showroom Stock B and Touring 2 championships, and in 2007 the lineup got a higher-performing Solstice GXP model. For only a few grand more, it ditched the 177-hp Ecotec for a new 2.0-liter dual-scroll turbocharged engine with 260 hp and 260 lb-ft of torque and got a limited-slip differential. Meanwhile, GM jazzed up the ailing Saturn lineup with a reskinned version of the Solstice called the Sky. Neither lasted long, however, as both fell victim to GM's Great Recession bankruptcy.

As memories of both Pontiac and Saturn fade, the median #2 values for the Solstice are up 19 percent for the Solstice and 14 percent for the Sky. Those increases are real, but compared to some other formerly "cheap" sports cars, they are neglibile. And compared to some of the more beloved Japanese roadsters out there, the homegrown Solstice/Sky twins offer a tempting value. Or you could do the boring, predictable thing and buy a Miata.

1990–98 and 1999–2005 Mazda Miata

Median #2 value: $18,300 for 1990-98; $15,900 for 1999-2005

... and nobody would blame you if you did do the boring, predictable thing and buy a Miata. There's a reason why it's the king of cheap sports cars and why the "Miata is always the answer" meme exists.

The story of the Miata and why it's so darn good has been told a million times. The trend of clean examples becoming frustratingly pricy, however, is a somewhat recent phenomenon. A few months ago we bemoaned the end of the cheap Miata. Looking back at #2 values over the past five years: First gen (NA) Miatas are up 118 percent. Second-gen (NB) cars, 83. The fact that a 1994 Miata in #2 condition is worth the same as a 1994 Corvette still has us scratching our heads.

Let's take a deep breath here. A nice NA or NB isn't as cheap as a lot of us feel it should be, but nothing is lately. Doesn't matter whether we're talking about convertibles or houses. Four-figure Miatas still abound, and even if cars in excellent condition are still nowhere near as cheap as they used to be, anything less than 20 grand for an iconic do-anything roadster that's endlessly fun and customizable is still a great value in the grand scheme of things.

The post 7 clean convertibles that are (still) under $20K appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Ford honors an unsung hero, the lightest GT40 ever

Intake: It’s a new(ish) year so that means it’s time for a new Ford GT Heritage Edition. 2022’s take on Ford’s performance past is an homage to Alan Mann Racing’s 1966 lightweight experimental prototype. Mann’s AM GT-1 featured an aluminum upper superstructure to save weight, and boasted additional suspension pickup points to help finesse the handling. Although it never won a major race, the AM GT-1 was still important to Ford’s Le Mans program, hence the tribute act. The Alan Mann Heritage Edition wears the same distinctive red-and-gold livery and racing number 16 as the GT-1, along with white accent stripes. Gloss carbon fiber is used for the front splitter, sills, mirrors, engine louvers, and rear diffuser, and the Brembo brake calipers are black with red graphics. Inside there’s more carbon, along with ebony Alcantara-covered seats and a smattering of golf applique. The paddle shifters, meanwhile, are red to match the paintwork.

Exhaust: The Alan Mann Heritage Edition is the seventh in a run of limited-series cars that celebrate the GT40’s greatest hits, even if it’s the most obscure so far. “Whether it’s going like hell at the racetrack or out-innovating the competition, the Ford GT Alan Mann Heritage Edition honors the vehicles that helped lead Ford to its wins,” says Mike Severson, Ford GT program manager.

Triumph finally begins testing its electric TE-1 project

Intake: The path to creating an electric motorcycle never did run smooth. Triumph has been marching through the steps in conjunction with multiple partners, but the storied U.K. firm has now announced the TE-1 project has finally reached a testing phase. The collaboration between Williams Advanced Engineering, Integral Powertrain, and WMG at the University of Warwick has born out a chassis and components that are now entering the phase where they are tested and made to play nicely together.

Exhaust: Triumph set the goal of the TE-1 program as “driving innovation, capability, and new intellectual property, and enhancing the credibility and profile of British industry and design.” We think it is certainly on the right path and we’re fascinated to receive updates on a development process that is typically kept hush-hush. The TE-1 won’t be the first electric motorcycle to market by years, but there are signs suggesting that a stout, silent performance machine will arrive before long.

Mini drops 3 chic special editions

Intake: Consumer tastes are trending towards ever-larger, higher-riding vehicles, but Mini is determined to convince you that its lineup is as fashionable and customizable as ever. Say hello to three new special editions, each available on a variety of models across the Mini Cooper lineup and based on the highest trim level, Iconic, which includes all techy, leather-clad goodies. First off is the $1000 Resolute Edition, which adds a suite of frosted bronze and gold accents, Rebel Green paint (previously a JCW exclusive), and some retro crosshatched upholstery to both two- and four-door Mini Cooper S Hardtops. Want a breezier color palette? Mini’s cooked up the Untold Edition, which brings Sage Green paint to the Clubman for the first time (for $2250, unless you’re spacing a JCW, in which case the special edition will cost you an extra $1500). The oh-so-trendy color extends to the normally black side spats along the sides and around the fenders. Shiny brass accents add some spice, though the most obvious exterior upgrade is the set of glamorous 18-inch alloys. Sage Green extends into the interior and your Untold choice will be noted on the sill plates and the steering wheel. Finally, there’s the Untamed Edition (below), which gives an outdoorsy, slightly wintry vibe to the biggest Mini of them all, the Countryman, for $1500. Matte stripes and piano-black trim accent a brand-new color, Momentum Grey, and the interior gets a suit of Highland Green leather with the appropriate sprinkling of Untold scripts. 

Exhaust: You can safely assume that these unlimited-run special editions are geared towards drinkers of oat milk lattes, but let’s be honest: the mix of textures and finishes here is creative and eye-catching, and Mini’s made enough changes that the special treatments are obvious. For our money, we’d get Resolve to get a punchy little two-door Cooper with those fun bronze accents. 

Singer’s new restoration line: 911 Turbos!

Intake: California Porsche restoration firm Singer Vehicle Design has announced the availability of its “reimagining” service for 964-chassis 911 Turbos. The prototype, a render of which is shown here, features a 3.8-liter, air-cooled flat-six assembled by Porsche Motorsport North America and producing “over 450 hp.” (A stock 964 Turbo makes 355.) Cosmetics hark back to the first-generation 911 Turbo, the 930, with accordion-style bumpers and a traditional “shark fin” rocker graphic. Air-to-water intercoolers are standard, and the rear fenders feature new engine air intakes, at the tail of the graphic. As with all of Singer’s projects, spec hinges on customer preference and budget, and build details vary from car to car. Rear-wheel drive is standard here, but all-wheel drive is available.

Exhaust: Singer, founded in 2009, has spent the last 13 years growing into the last word on air-cooled restomods—extensively reengineered vehicles, jewellike in every way. More important, the driving experience is exquisite, a genuine match to the $1 million average transaction price. This is the first forced-induction Singer project, and company reps say the result puts a priority on touring and comfort. We can’t wait to try it.

McLaren F1 car coming to LEGO Technic

Intake: Lego has made dozens of trucks, hypercars, and race cars as a part of its Speed Legends series, but McLaren’s 2022 F1 entry will be coming into toy stores on March 1 as the first-ever Lego Technic F1 model. The 1432-piece kit creates a 25.5-inch-long car that’s complete with a V-6 engine with moving pistons, a differential lock, and working suspension and steering.

Exhaust: The Papaya Orange livery of the McLaren F1 cars works nicely with the Lego Technic bricks and doesn’t rely on a lot of graphics or decals to convey the details, keeping this very functional kit loyal to the Lego Technic ethos. The large scale also helps make the functional components stand out even more. This will look great in any Ricciardo or Norris fan’s collection (and isn’t everyone a fan of Ricciardo?).

Lotus launches Advanced Performance division

Intake: Lotus is tapping into the demand for individualized automobiles by setting up a new special operations team. Lotus Advanced Performance will be in charged of upcoming halo projects, limited editions, and bespoke tailoring of production models for customers. On top of that its portfolio will include unique experiences from driving tours to factory visits, a Driving Academy, the building of the Emira GT4 race car, and the development of various options and accessories. The new setup will be helmed by Simon Lane, who previously headed Aston Martin’s Q branch.

Exhaust: More than just monogrammed headrests and paint jobs to match your pumps, Lotus Advanced Performance promises the prospect of ultra-low volume experimental sports cars, as teased by the be-winged open-wheeler above.

The post Ford honors unsung Le Mans hero, Mini’s chic triplets, Lotus teases hi-po experiments appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In our deepest fantasies of open-topped motoring, in which we cruise a coastal road or carve a canyon in a classic British roadster, there’s one feature that might best be mentally airbrushed out of the picture: the gearbox.

“The Achilles heel of most older cars is the quality of the gear change,” says Tim Henderson of British engineering firm Vitesse.

Whether it’s a Morgan Plus Four, a Triumph TR4 or an MG of any early alphabet description, the gear selection process is often a challenge to be mastered rather than a delight to be savored, and Henderson has an appealing alternative.

It comes in the form of the five-speed manual transmission from the third-generation NC Mazda MX-5 Miata—a car that was designed around the concept of creating a perfect connection between man and machine. Mazda calls this philosophy jinba-ittai (literally translated as “horse and rider as one” and out of it came one of the sweetest shifts ever crafted. Short, sharp throws require fingertips over force, yet still provide tangible mechanical feedback.

Adding a dash of Japanese genius to an old Brit is transformative, says Henderson.

“We engineered a bellhousing to get the gearbox onto the back of an MGB engine. Prior to that, my wife had a drive in the car and said ‘the gearchange is painful, I’m not enjoying this much.’  We put the new gearbox in and she absolutely delighted in it. She wanted it as a daily driver because it transformed the car. And that’s kind of the feedback we get from our customers. We’re giving these cars a new lease of life to be perfectly drivable in traffic with good acceleration, good cruising and a nice quiet gearbox.”

Vitesse had previously worked with the likes of Morgan and Caterham to pair the Mazda transmission with the Ford engines used by both British sports car makers. It was a natural fit with the Duratec engine, and also fettled to fit the smaller Sigma unit. Vitesse even somehow managed to make the Miata gearbox gel with the S&S V-twin motorcycle engine of the Morgan Three-Wheeler.

As Morgan moved to BMW power, so Vitesse sought out new opportunities for its adapted Mazda mechanicals and complete kits are now available for owners of the Triumph TR2, TR3, TR4, TR5, TR6, TR7, and TR 8, along with the MGA and MGB, including V-8 versions. Morgan fans are also served with conversions for the 4/4, Plus 4 ,and Plus 8.

The conversion process is “plug and play, with step-by-step instructions,” says Henderson. “If you can change a clutch you can change the gearbox.”

The setup is also completely reversible, and each redesigned ‘box fits snuggly in place of your original, perfectly aligning with existing bolt holes.” Only the MGA requires a small amount of metalwork, with two ears on a crossmember having to be cut. Vitesse supplies replacements that can be welded back on should anyone wish to revert back to the original transmission, “which I honestly doubt very many people will,” says Henderson.

Henderson estimates that around 10,000 of Vitesse’s Miata gearboxes are now slickly shifting in cars around the world. So far, there is not a single documented failure.

“We’ve got it on the back of 4.6-liter V-8s, we’ve got it on the back of supercharged Caterhams,” adds Henderson. “We’ve got it on the V-twin engine, which was breaking 30 mm shafts and belt drives and crank shafts and all sorts, but never broke a gearbox. To date we haven’t had a gearbox fully fail through overloading. Now we don’t want that to be a green flag, because anyone can break anything if they try hard enough, but it is a very durable, very strong gearbox, and it has such a sweet shift.

“The gearbox internals are absolutely 100 percent unchanged and the casing that was made was done from the master CAD drawings. So strength- and durability-wise it’s exactly the same as Mazda’s original.”

Vitesse is currently shipping 40 units per month to the U.S., where they’re for sale through Moss Motors at around $5000. Plenty of British sports car fans in America clearly think the transformation in drivability is worth sacrificing matching-numbers components. Will you be one of them?

The post Could this Japanese gearbox transform your old British sports car? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Since I was 3 years old, I’ve loved cars. We lived about two blocks from Automobile Row here in Jacksonville, and I used to pedal my bike over to the dealers all the time and bug them to death. I still remember in ’53 when the prototype Corvette came to town and was on display. My dad wasn’t into racing—no one in my family was into cars—but he took me downtown, and for three hours, I sat there staring at one of the first Corvettes.

For years, I owned a filter company, and we sold industrial filtration equipment for ultra-pure water, nuclear fuel, stuff like that. That’s how I paid the bills. Outside of work, in 1967, I started contributing to Sports Car Graphic. Then, in ’71, Road & Track was looking for somebody and I got on with them doing photography. I’ve been shooting cars and racing ever since.

That’s the year I got my first “real” car, too, a 1971 Porsche 911. Bought it new for $7900 and I still own it. I’ve painted it twice and bumped the motor to a 2.7 Carrera, and I can’t ever imagine selling it. These days, I’ve got 15 cars in my collection. I’d say my tastes are eclectic, from a 1928 Simplex Piston Ring Special that raced on the beach at Daytona to a 1971 Ferrari Daytona. There’s also a 2005 Ford GT, a C8 Corvette, a ’57 Eldorado Biarritz convertible, a ’58 Eldorado Brougham, a ’63 Buick Riviera, a ’32 highboy roadster, and a Triumph TR8 race car.

I’ve always loved motorsport. I started working for a race team when I was 16, schlepping tires and coffee and all that sort of stuff. In 1977, I went to racing school and have been racing ever since. It was sort of a natural progression of my interest in cars. I was never into sports because I was a klutz, but racing came to me naturally. It was like stealing cookies from a cookie jar, and I really enjoyed it. There’s just something about strapping yourself in the car and then throwing the switches and pushing the button and feeling the visceral nature of it. No sound deadening, just you in this metal capsule that’s making a lot of noise.

My first race car was a Brabham BT8, which was a Denny Hulme Tourist Trophy winner that I pulled out of a South Carolina junkyard in about 1978. Since then, I’ve had a Shelby Cooper Monaco, a Lotus Eleven, an Elva Mk. 4. I’ve got a Pontiac 1LE Trans Am from the Firehawk series and one of the original Banjo Matthews IROC Camaros. I also ran the ex–Bob Sharp Datsun B210, which I destroyed at Sebring on January 14, 1984, at 2:15 p.m. Only wreck I’ve ever had, and it laid me up for about eight days in intensive care and then three months at home. Broken sternum, bruised heart—not something I’d want to repeat.

This TR8 of mine, I bought it from the estate of the late John Kelly, who raced it in period at Daytona and Sebring for Bob Tullius’s Group 44 team. I already had the ex–Paul Newman Group 44 TR6 and decided if the opportunity came up, I would buy the TR8. John had told me it was his favorite car because it was small and quick and did everything a race car should do.

It’s got a Buick-Olds-Pontiac 4-liter V-8 that was built for the Trans-Am series. But it was so quick in Trans-Am that the SCCA added hundreds of pounds of weight to it, which made Mr. Tullius very angry. So he decided he was going to go from SCCA to IMSA, and along with the sister car, they held their own against the Porsches and Corvettes.

I race it all over the country in the Historic Sportscar Racing series—Monterey twice, Lime Rock, Road America, Road Atlanta, Sebring, Daytona, the usual places. Lime Rock is probably my favorite track, because it requires a lot of discipline and it has a real rhythm to it. I’m not particularly wild about Sebring, though, because, well, that’s where I crashed.

Tommy Riggins at Riggins Engineering here in town and a friend of mine named Steve Boyle—who used to build engines for Indy cars—they do most of the work to keep it race-ready. And it still holds its own, too, against big-block Corvettes and Cobras and such.

But vintage racing has changed. The old vintage formula isn’t there anymore, which is rather disappointing, because the licensing for drivers nowadays is lax and the cars are even more lax. It takes the fun out of it when you have real vintage cars running with drivers who’ve come out of other series, who are qualified and good. Then you’ve got guys who got their license off a cereal box and they go racing in a Camaro with 700 horsepower. That’s not vintage racing. But often the sanctioning bodies will take those cars because they need the entry fees. It’s all a bit disenchanting, to be honest.

Thankfully, I’ve always had other pursuits to keep me plenty busy. The Amelia Island Concours, for instance, which I created in 1996 and ran for 26 years. And I’ve just released a book, The Other Side of the Fence. It covers six decades of my motorsport photography, back to those Sports Car Graphic days. The name came from my late sister, who told me when I got a camera that it would get me on the other side of the fence. Sales will help raise funds for Spina Bifida of Jacksonville, which is a non-profit close to my heart. The book might be an ego thing, I don’t know. But more important, it’s a kind of record of all I did and saw from that unique position.

The post Collector, racer, photographer, event organizer—Bill Warner does it all appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Texas’ bump-ridden Circuit of the Americas finally gets some fresh asphalt

Intake: Circuit of the Americas (COTA)—the Austin, Texas, home of the Formula 1 U.S. Grand Prix and the MotoGP Grand Prix of the Americas—will get some fresh asphalt this coming February. The news comes from BikeSport News, who heard from FIM Grand Prix Safety Director Franco Uncini that a select section of the track—from turn 2 through 10—will be re-paved. Uncini says that multiple riders at the most recent MotoGP race at COTA complained about the bumpiness of the track, some even threatening not to race next year unless something was done about it. This year’s F1 race at COTA also brought about similar complaints of the surface imperfections from some of the drivers.

Exhaust: The soft clay underlying COTA’s 20 turns shifts when inundated with heavy rains, like those that have plagued Austin the past decade. (COTA’s paddock and tunnel have completely flooded more than once in the facility’s nine-year lifetime.) Not only does the saturated soil settle unevenly; the heavy asphalt gets stretched by the extreme braking forces generated by the likes of Formula 1 cars and MotoGP bikes. Voilà, wrinkles in the pavement. We’re glad the folks at COTA are doing something about it, but don’t expect this to be the last time you hear about bumps in Austin.

Brinkerhoff braves Antarctica

Intake: Renee Brinkerhoff and her Valkyrie Racing team have reached Union Glacier, Antarctica to begin their 356-mile adventure across the ice. The journey will complete the 65-year-old philanthropist’s epic 20,000-mile, seven-continent drive in her Porsche 356. Project 356 World Rally has seen Brinkerhoff compete in the Peking-Paris, La Carrera Panamericana and East African Safari rallies to increase awareness and raise money to aid women and child victims of human trafficking. Having raised nearly $500,000 so far Brinkerhoff hopes this final push across the harshest terrain will achieve her million-dollar goal. In order to complete this adventure Brinkerhoff’s Porsche has become the only 356 ever to be fitted with caterpillar tracks, alongside a number of other modifications for the extreme cold.

Exhaust: If Brinkerhoff completes this final leg of her quest it will be the culmination of almost ten years of effort for a very worthy cause. You can support her at the Valkyrie Gives charitable organization where you will also find the chance to win a vintage Porsche 356A restored by UK-based Tuthill Porsche.

Triumph’s double celebration marks 120 years and one million motorcycles

Intake: Britain’s Triumph is, understandably, feeling rather triumphant. As the company marks 120 years since it was originally founded, it has also just assembled the one millionth bike built since Triumph was reborn in 1990. That bike is a Tiger 900 Rally Pro with custom silver paint and special graphics, but it won’t be sold. Instead the all-terrain tourer will go on display at a new exhibition at the Triumph Factory Visitor Experience at Hinckley, Leicestershire.

CEO Nick Boor says, “Everyone at Triumph is incredibly proud to have played a part in achieving such a momentous moment in the modern history of this iconic brand. Over the 31 years since we re-launched Triumph with a new line of British designed motorcycles in Cologne in 1990, we have shared so many great moments with our fans across the world. From returning to the TT champions arena, to entering the MotoGP paddock with our Moto2mEngine partnership, to supporting the biggest global riding event and its great cause for health and wellbeing with the Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride, to mention only a few. Triumph’s success has always stemmed from the passion and commitment we share with our riders.”

Exhaust: The first Triumph motorcycle went on sale in April 1902 fitted with a Minerva engine. A  year later the company had achieved 500 sales, but today’s Triumph is a totally different story with 700 dealers in 57 countries selling some 75,000 bikes a year. That’s plenty to celebrate.

Discount Tire to acquire Tire Rack, road hazard protection unavailable

Intake: Two famous names in the tire-and-wheel game joined forces recently to form a mega retailer of rolling stock for vehicles of various shapes, sizes, and performance intentions. While both sides are giving us the warm and fuzzies with reassuring quotes, the two privately held organizations remained tight-lipped on details, aside from the fact that Tire Rack continues to have a headquarters that’s “being maintained in South Bend, Indiana.” Vague remarks aside, the road ahead is likely stronger together, as retail heavyweights like Dealer Tire, Goodyear, and Firestone own a large percentage of the fleet and B2C market.

Exhaust: Consolidation seems to be the name of the game these days, if perhaps only when it comes to automotive-focused retailers. This is likely a win-win for both organizations. Consider that Tire Rack, a significantly smaller organization (based on employee count on Wikipedia) likely needed to integrate with a larger company to ensure its online retail and enthusiast customer-service slant doesn’t lose momentum. And Discount Tire, with a strong retail and fleet presence with actual, physical locations, now has a big enthusiast feather in its cap, not unlike that time when 3M bought Meguiar’s.

Toyota picks North Carolina site for U.S. automotive battery plant

Intake: Toyota’s first North American battery plant—a $1.29 billion investment to create batteries for hybrid and electric vehicles—will reside in Randolph County, North Carolina. The company made the announcement on Monday at a jubilant press conference attended by Toyota executives and North Carolina political and community leaders. Toyota expects the plant to create 1750 jobs and suggested there could be a Phase 2 of the project that would result in 3875 jobs and a total investment of about $3 billion. The Southeast is suddenly becoming a popular location for EV production. In June, Volvo Car Group announced that the upcoming Polestar 3 all-electric SUV would be built in South Carolina, while Ford announced in September that it is building two plants in Tennessee and Kentucky that will produce electric F-Series trucks and the batteries to power future electric Ford and Lincoln vehicles.

Exhaust: Toyota’s announcement is good news for both the automaker, which vows to reach carbon neutrality for its vehicles and operations by 2050—a far more conservative timeline than other OEMs—and for the Greensboro-Randolph area. One community leader said the process took about 10 years to reach fruition, and obviously the hard work paid off. How many other automakers may soon establish a manufacturing home in the Southeast?

Jaguar’s posh, electric reinvention requires three-year pause on new models

Intake: Jaguar wants to cultivate a higher-dollar, higher-glam portfolio, but its upcoming family of high-falutin’ electric vehicles requires sacrifice. For the next three years, no new models will be forthcoming from the British brand, reports Le Monde. “The brand is looking forward; 2025 is barely three years away,” Phillipe Robbrecht, president of JLR-France, told his native publication. He glosses over what will undoubtedly be a turbulent time for the already ailing brand: A €3B about-face from internal combustion to battery power will not come easily.

Exhaust: Jaguar wants to play ball with Bentley, Aston Martin, and Porsche, leaving Land Rover to fight for the hearts of BMW and Audi customers. We’d love to see Jaguar recapture the prestige of yesteryear, but the success of the brand depends just as much on savvy financial management as on creative design and sound engineering. Jaguar management won’t be relaxing any time soon.

The post COTA’s asphalt is finally “paved” some attention, Discount Tire buys Tire Rack, Jaguar hits three-year pause appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Last week, I wrote about “The Rules of Attraction.” In it, I talked about what pulls us toward a hobby or a passion in general, then looked specifically in the car world at what causes us to be lifelong devotees of a single make and model. I espoused that it’s a combination of an emotional connection to the car, the car’s exterior look, the interior vibe, and how it drives.

At the end, I quipped that I should write a companion piece about “The Rules of Repulsion”—or what makes us sell cars. I was joking at the time, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there’s meat here.

Peter Egan famously wrote in the March 2013 Road & Track, “I’ve discovered that a dull car is a lack of joy forever. It weighs on the soul, and you can’t forget for one moment that you aren’t having any fun. You look down the hood, and it’s like having an apartment with an ugly view. You want to close the curtains, but you can’t, because you’re driving.” I can’t say that I’ve ever sold a car simply because I thought it was boring. Maybe my standards need to be higher.

To dissect The Rules of Repulsion, I think you first need to draw a clear delineation between daily drivers and enthusiast cars, as the expectations for them are so vastly different that it results in different sets of rules.

For about 30 years, I had a five-mile commute from my long-time job. That dropped to zero miles six years ago when I began working from home. This, combined with the fact that I like working on cars, meant that, for my entire faux-adult life, I was willing and able to make the trade-off of not paying for a new or nearly new car, enabling me to own and daily-drive older cars instead, and put the money saved into non-daily enthusiast cars. With the exception of short periods, my daily drivers have been eight-to-20-year-old, high-mileage BMWs. I can justify it by talking about the appealing combination of performance, handling, and other factors, but hey, we like what we like.

It differs a bit with my wife’s cars. For years, those did double duty as the family haulers, so, no, they weren’t the 150,000-mile cars I was accustomed to buying and driving myself. For her, I’d typically look for two-year-old, sub-10,000-mile cars that were being sold at below market value. The Toyota Previa five-speed was because the seller’s wife never warmed to the stick. The Mazda MPV was a salvage vehicle due to light hail. The first Honda Fit purchased after gas prices spiked, then went back down, and the family was happy to go back to driving their SUV. The second Fit was another salvage vehicle, lightly damaged in a curb strike and repaired.

Whether it was my daily driver or my wife’s car we were turning over, the reasons were remarkably similar, and it wasn’t ever something as dramatic as the car dying and leaving us in the lurch or a catastrophically high repair bill. Instead, it simply was time. (Well, OK, with two of the family cars, it was because my oldest son wrecked them, but we won’t talk about that.)

My wife’s cars would typically last longer because we’d buy those newer and with far fewer miles on them. Typically, mine are already well into the autumn of their life when I get them, and thus they have less room before they run out of road and reach the point of decrepitude. But with any non-collectible car, if you own it long enough, that point does inevitably come like death and taxes. Yes, you can keep a car running forever, and keep patching rust, but it usually reaches a point where it makes less and less sense. This is particularly true on a daily driver.

The delineation between DDs and enthusiast/project cars is crucially important precisely because a daily driver needs to be exactly that—you need to be able to jump in it and drive it. Sure, it may occasionally need normal-wear-and-tear repairs (brakes, shocks, exhaust, suspension, etc.), and you may knock those off yourself efficiently, adroitly, and cost-effectively, but when it reaches the point where it needs an engine, or a transmission, or major rust repair, you look at the time, effort, and expense required, look at what else you could buy as a DD, consider what new technology that may get you (that used to be airbags and ABS; now it’s blind-spot detection and collision avoidance), and may well make the decision that it’s time to let old Bessie go. In contrast, if it’s a project car, you can roll it into the garage, close the door, and begin slowly chipping away at the needed repair as time allows.

Here in Massachusetts, the rust thing is crucial for DDs, as an inspection technician can fail a car for any hole in the body. So, when you see rust blisters forming on the wheel arches or the rocker panels of your daily driver, it’s a warning to start thinking about another car. You may make it through the next inspection, but maybe not the one after that. Even without the inspection issue, when rust blossoms, it’s very difficult to stop.

As I noted a few weeks ago, it’s harder and harder to find shops willing to take on spot rust repair. You could roll the dice and find someone on Craigslist who advertises that they’ll repair rust and spot-paint inexpensively it at your house, but in a you-get-what-you-pay-for world, the odds are that the repair will show. Short of the kind of a bare-metal body restoration that a valuable vintage car might get, rust will come back. On an enthusiast / project car, you can slow the process enormously by simply keeping the car dry (e.g., certainly not driving it in the snow and salt, and even keeping it out of the rain), but the very meaning of “daily driver” is that it’s the car’s job to make the appointed rounds, regardless of the snow or rain or gloom of night.

I’ll sometimes do a needed repair beneath a daily driver—something such as exhaust replacement—and even when I don’t see rust-through, sense that it’s time to move the car along. For decades, nearly all cars have had galvanized bodies and some form of undercoating. In addition, plastic cladding protecting the underbody became increasingly common, so rotted frame members and holes in the floorboards aren’t as ubiquitous as they once were. However, there is a lot of metal under a car in addition to the frame and floorboards, so—particularly in a region where snowy roads are salted—it’s not uncommon to crawl under an older high-mileage car and see rust absolutely encrusting every metal component … the trailing arms, the fasteners holding on the shock absorbers, the metal brake lines, the hose clamps, on and on. I’ll sometimes complete that one repair (for example, hanging an exhaust that I’ve already purchased), then move the car along.

All that having been said, there are six daily drivers that stand out in my mind in which, instead of having the “it’s time” epiphany, I made a specific decision to sell them and was happy to see them go.

1970 Triumph GT6+

This goes back all the way to the beginning. I bought my GT6 in 1976 at the end of my senior year of high school. It was only a six-year-old car, and the degree to which metal fatigued, parts broke, rust exploded, and electrons traveled on unexpected paths was truly astonishing. On the one hand, even though the car was my daily driver for three years, it’s perhaps a bit unfair to include it in this list, as by modern standards, nearly all cars from that period were junk. But on the other hand, it ran less than half the time I owned it, I was a poor college student, it bled me dry, and even though I loved it, there was no choice but to let it go, and once I did, I can’t say I shed a tear for it. I mean, I suddenly had beer money.

1999 Chevy Metro

In 2008, as gas prices spiked, I bought a well-used 1999 Chevy Metro—the little 1800-pound Geo Metro / Suzuki Swift hatchback with the three-cylinder 55-horsepower engine and a Chevy bow tie on the hood. It was a rather odd experiment to see if you needed to pay Prius prices (which, as a then-new car, were extremely high) to get Prius levels of fuel economy. On a college visitation road-trip swing with my middle son, I found that, if I held it at 55 mph, it actually did get over 50 mpg on the highway. Around town, if I drove it as if there was an egg on the accelerator pedal, it got nearly 40 mpg, but as I started to scoot around more in it, that dropped closer to 30.

The metal on the car was so light and thin that trying to remove fasteners to replace the shifter bushings caused shift linkage components to bend. I got tired of my little experiment and gave the car to my oldest son. Since I had other much cooler cars, he was not pleased, and initially accused me of, well, I can’t use the appropriate slang, so let’s just say “impeding with his ability to reproduce.” However, one day he called me and said, “Dad, I just drove the Metro from Boston to New York to Amherst, and I think I used $15 in fuel!” He went into AmeriCorps for a year, and the car landed back in my driveway. I was happy when someone else snatched it up to pursue dreams of non-hybrid hyper-mileage.

1991 Toyota FZJ80 Land Cruiser

At the opposite end of the scale from the Metro was the 1991 Toyota Land Cruiser. It strains the bounds of truth to call the TLC a daily driver, but I’ve included it because it was a car I moved along for a very specific reason. After decades of using a series of Suburbans to take the family on our annual Nantucket beach vacation, with my older two sons gone I thought I’d try something smaller.

The earlier, boxier Spartan Toyota FJ60 Land Cruisers had already become enthusiast vehicles, but the 1990s FZJ80 TLCs—the ones that were badged as Lexus LX450s in 1995 and ’96—were still relatively inexpensive, and their reputation for reliability was unmatched. So I bought one. It was a very cool vehicle. I loved the fact that it was actually built for off-roading; it had front trailing arms nearly as long as my leg, and ball joints the size of grapefruits.

Instead of selling it after the beach vacation or pulling it off the road, as I usually did with the Suburbans, I kept it around, letting my middle son use it while he was home for the holidays. Then, one day, he asked, “Dad, what’s up with the gas mileage in the Land Cruiser?” In truth, I’d never measured it, just as I’d never measured it with the Suburbans. Why would I? I bought them for a purpose, they were necessary for that purpose, and they sucked what they sucked. But it turns out that, with the FZJ80, the combination of a 6000-pound vehicle with all-wheel-drive, 212-hp engine, and a primitive digital engine management system yields only 11 miles per gallon—certainly worse than the Suburbans.

These days, electronics and software do a great job of maximizing power and fuel economy, but in 1993, not so much. Like Walt Whitman, I have no problem with contradictions (“I am large. I contain multitudes.”), but if I’m going to drive a vehicle that gets 11 mpg, it should have a name that ends in “i,” curves like Raquel Welch, and leave smoking acrid tire plumes in its wake. With no more soft sand to drive on, and with the fuel bill so out of whack for running errands that none of us wanted to drive it, the TLC went bye-bye.

1999 BMW 528iT Sport Wagon

My ’99 BMW 528iT stick sport wagon had a lot going for it. It was a sport package car, which gave it a slightly hunkered-down suspension. It was a five-speed, rare in an E39 wagon. It had the pneumatic rear suspension, so if you threw bulk in the back, it would pump itself up to the proper ride height. It was a good-sized wagon—about the size of an old Taurus—and handled better than a vehicle that size had a right to. Unfortunately, it was one of those cars that, when you bought it, you signed up for the repair-of-the-week plan and didn’t know it.

Things kept going wrong with it. Small things. Then big things. First, the rear pneumatics failed. Then, in freezing weather, the oil separator froze, sending oil into the intake manifold and nearly hydro-locking the engine (in fairness, this can happen on many cars with a similar oil separator design). Then, after I resurrected the car, on its maiden voyage one of the front springs broke and punctured a tire. I finally realized that the car’s needs were that of an enthusiast car when I needed it to be a daily driver.

I liked it a lot but didn’t love it so much that I could buy something else to daily drive and relegate it to pampered enthusiast car status. So I sold it.

2003 BMW 325XiT Wagon

My smaller replacement for the E39 528iT wagon, the E46 325XiT wagon wasn’t a repair-of-the-week plan car, but I never loved it. Like the E39 wagon, it was a five-speed sport package car, but although the all-wheel drive was great in snow, it made the characteristically snappy BMW steering feel a bit numb. And when the front CV joints started clicking during turning, as they invariably will do on a front-wheel or all-wheel drive car, pulling the front axles to replace them was so onerous that I never wanted to do the job again on that or any other AWD BMW.

And snapping a bolt while replacing the front struts, and then having to drill it out, added to the feeling that, as a daily driver it was too needy. As rust began to blossom on the car’s rear fender lips, I sold it. I will admit, though, that I continue to be on the lookout for the rear-wheel-drive stick version of this wagon. Unfortunately, there aren’t many, and they’re highly sought after.

2005 BMW X5

The X5 I found was a triple unicorn. It had an uber-rare six-speed manual transmission. It had the sport package with the less wallowy suspension and the sport seats. And it had the dealer-installed tow package—so, if necessary, I could use it to haul home my latest crime of opportunity. It had 270,000 miles on it, but you would’ve thought it had only 70,000. The interior was amazing, the exterior was pretty, and since the car had lived most of its life in North Carolina, the undercarriage was rust-free. It made so much sense on paper. I bought it and basically abandoned my 2003 E39 530i stick sport, which had been my daily, in my driveway.

I liked the X5, but I never really warmed to it. Like the 325XiT wagon, I just wasn’t crazy about the steering feel as compared with the rear-wheel-drive BMWs I’ve driven for decades. And I’m not a guy who wants the height and bulk of an SUV over a sedan.

I bought it in the fall of 2019. When the pandemic stormed through in March 2020, the last thing I was hot to do was drive around looking at dead cars I could tow home. I floated it for sale on Facebook, and an acquaintance who was looking for that exact option package snatched it up. A transport arrived, and in a contactless remote purchase, it was gone. When I transferred the plates back to the E39 530i stick sport sedan and drove it, I felt, “Ah … this is so much better.”

So, “Rules of Repulsion?” Obviously, I wasn’t actually “repulsed” by any of these cars. I mean it’s not like one of them was a Pontiac Aztek. (Yo. Rob. A Chevy Metro?) And, as Captain Hector Barbosa said in Pirates of the Caribbean, “They’re more what you’d call ‘guidelines’ than actual rules.”

***

Rob Siegel’s new book, The Best of the Hack Mechanic^TM: 35 years of hacks, kluges, and assorted automotive mayhem, is available on Amazon. His other seven books are available here, or you can order personally-inscribed copies through his website, www.robsiegel.com.

The post The Rules of Repulsion appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Dodge gets spooky with Charger, Challenger

Intake: Halloween season is upon us, and no amount of displacement can stop the onslaught of orange and black. Dodge released two new packages for the Challenger and Charger muscle brothers today. The first pack, dubbed HEMI Orange, will be available on V-6-powered GT RWD and Scat Pack Widebody models of both vehicles. It brings black exterior with orange accents aplenty, including the brake calipers, exterior badging, and a slim orange accent running down the left side of the vehicle. Inside, orange contrast stitching breaks up an otherwise moody interior. The other package is a standard blacked-out look, logically dubbed the SRT Black package. It’s offered on SRT Hellcat and SRT Hellcat Redeye models, and nets Midnight Grey Metallic exterior badging and black nickel exhaust tips. The HEMI Orange package will run you $2995 on GT RWD models, and $1500 on Scat Pack Widebody models. The SRT Black package will cost $995.

Exhaust: The Challenger/Charger siblings are the gifts that keep on giving. It seems like every six months, we get a new package or trim level for these two—and we aren’t even mad about the absence of hardware upgrades. The tire-smokin’ V-8 recipe is just that good. You wanna get spooky, Dodge? Bring it on.

Due in 2025, next-gen Miata won’t ditch traditional recipe—yet

Intake: Mazda is hanging on to the internal-combustion engine and manual transmission for as long as it possibly can. A new Miata is due by 2025 and it will be propelled by the Japanese firm’s clever combustion-ignition Skyactiv-X engine, according to a report by Autocar. The NE version of the world’s most popular roadster will feature Mazda’s spark-controlled compression ignition system, which gives diesel-like low-end torque and fuel efficiency with the high-revving thrill of a gasoline motor. The engine is paired with a 48-volt mild-hybrid system which provides torque-fill on gearshifts and aids getaway as well. Although the power offered is only marginally more than that of the current two-liter Skyactiv-G unit, the extra twist should allow the next Miata to finally crack 0–60 mph in less than six seconds.

Exhaust: Based on the life expectancy of previous generations, the new Miata should arrive in 2024, and is likely to be the car’s final ICE iteration. Mazda is eagerly awaiting improvements in battery technology so that when it finally succumbs to electrification, the Miata can still live up to its lightweight principles.

Microchip shortage forces Crown Vics out of retirement

Intake: Just in time for Halloween, the Slidell (Louisiana) Police Department announced that the New Orleans suburb may soon be haunted by ghost cars. Well, sort of. In a Facebook post on October 22, the department shared a photo of a familiar—and well worn—vehicle and wrote, “Due to the microchip shortage, the Crown Vic rises from the dead. You might see a few of these running around Slidell!” According to Public Information Officer Daniel Seuzeneau, Slidell police ordered vehicles from Chevrolet, Ford, and Dodge over a year ago and still haven’t received them. Seuzeneau said the automakers aren’t accepting orders for 2022, forcing the department to bring some of the iconic Ford police cars out of retirement. Judging from the comments on Facebook, people are excited about it. As of this morning, the post has received 235 comments and nearly 2000 likes, and it has been shared 178 times.

Exhaust: When it comes to the Crown Vic, we’re siding with the many commenters who wondered why the legendary crime-stopper ever went out of production in the first place. So we’re happy to see some of them return to service, despite the reason they’re back. With that said, hopefully none of the on-duty cars looks like the one in the photo. Can we get some cleaning supplies and fresh paint over here, please?

The Bugatti Chiron is fast approaching the end of the line

Intake: If you’re still hemming and hawing about the exact specification of your Chiron, you’d better hurry up and decide. There are fewer than 40 build slots available before Bugatti ends production. Every “standard” Chiron has already been sold, and all the remaining cars will be either Pur Sport or Super Sport models. Sales of the 1500-hp W-16 hypercar have soared in 2021 and the total number of cars delivered hit 300 in March, with some markets reporting increases of 300 percent. After the run ends, Bugatti will still be plenty busy assembling ten Centodiecis and 40 Bolides before moving on to whatever electric dream machine Mate Rimac can scheme up next.

Exhaust: The Chiron has proven to be the fastest-selling Bug so far. It should hit its 500-unit threshold just five years after the first car was delivered. By comparison, it took a full decade for the Veyron to sell out of its 450-car run. Surely the fast-rising tide of electrification is enhancing the appeal of this combustion-powered monster.

Triumph goes for the gold with eight one-year-only special edition bikes

Intake: Triumph Motorcycles is adding a precious-metal flare to its Modern Classics motorcycle line. The one-year-only Gold Line Edition machines feature a two-tone paint scheme on their fuel tanks and side panels with a hand-laid gold pinstripe separating the two colors. Each machine is also signed by the expert craftsman who laid the pinstripe with their soft-bristled sword-liner brush. Whatever your favorite flavor of Bonneville or Scrambler, be sure to get your order in soon—the first Triumph to wear this hand-laid paint job, the Street Twin Gold Line Edition, sold out within the season. Expect these special bikes to sell out just with the same pace.

Exhaust: In an era of mass production and machine painting, owning a vehicle that has a visible craftsman’s touch is really neat to see. While Triumph is not alone in hand-lining motorcycle gas tanks—Royal Enfield notoriously used the technique on the Bullet 350 and 500 models—it does not take away from the cool factor.

The post Dodge gets spooky, next Miata keeps ICE/manual, Crown Vics forced out of retirement appeared first on Hagerty Media.

On April 22, 1941, the Luftwaffe was waging war on the British naval base at Devonport. The signal tower atop Mount Wise glowed red in warning as the Heinkels and Junkers unloaded tons of explosive ordinance. Civilians huddled in brick bomb shelters. Searchlights and anti-aircraft guns lit up the sky. In the blackout gloom below, dotted with fires and explosions, a single headlight cut through the darkness. Onward the rider came through the rubble-strewn streets, her message bag slung at her side, her hand twisting the throttle open.

We do not know what message W.R.N.S. Third Officer Pamela McGeorge carried, only that she rode through hell and flame like a woman possessed. A bomb fell close, the blast knocking her from her bike, sprawling and sliding. She picked herself up, ran back—the motorcycle was a tangle of bent metal. She hefted her bag, turned, and ran the rest of the way to deliver the message.

For her bravery, for her service, and perhaps for her insistence on immediately going out again as a dispatch rider, Officer McGeorge was awarded the British Empire Medal. While her actions were heroic, they were not unique. In fact, by 1940, all of the British Navy’s dispatch riders were women. It was a dangerous job, delivering intelligence and orders from headquarters to military bases all over the U.K. Over the course of the war, more than a hundred of these women would be killed serving their country.

Originally, the Women’s Royal Naval Service (WRNS) was formed in 1917, during WWI. The Navy was the first of Britain’s armed forces to actively recruit women, and the Wrens, as they became known, were telegraph operators, clerks, and code experts. The director of the Wrens was the highly capable Dame Katharine Furst, who was later both an expert skier and head of the World Association of Girl Guides and Scouts.

It’s worth noting that Wren McGeorge had been a Sea Ranger, the Naval equivalent of a Guide. There was a great deal of overlap between the Guiding movement and the various WWII women’s auxiliaries. Girls who had grown up learning to be skilled and independent were not about to sit at home while a war was on.

Dame Vera Matthews, who led the Wrens from 1939–46, had previously volunteered as a Wren herself on the very day the WRNS was created in 1917. Matthews was highly educated, well-traveled, and a shrewd judge of character. A natural leader, she would preside over a force of nearly 75,000 women: radar operators, administrative staff, pilots, anti-aircraft crew—and dispatch riders.

The WRNS organization was fortunate at first in having a small pool of experienced women motorcyclists to draw on. During the prewar period, society on the whole didn’t exactly encourage women to take up motorsport, but more than a few did anyway.

Pioneering female British motorcycle racers like Florence Blenkiron, Theresa Wallach, and Beatrice Shilling led the way for many women riders. All three rode their bikes to more than 100 mph at the bumpy Brooklands circuit. Wallach and Blenkiron did a highly-publicized motorcycle ride from London all the way to Cape Town, South Africa.

Wallach was a skilled engineer who would spend WWII as both a dispatch rider for the Army auxiliaries and as a tank mechanic. Shilling was also a highly regarded engineer and invented a simple device that helped keep the Merlin V-12s of early Spitfires from losing fuel pressure during negative-g maneuvers; the invention put British fighter pilots on an even footing against the fuel-injected German fighter planes.

The women inspired by these pioneers already had their own motorcycles and knew how to repair them. The WRNS brought riders in off the local racetracks and gave them new purpose. Later, as the ranks grew, less-experienced volunteer Wrens would be trained on motorcycles and learn to ride in the field.

(As a brief aside, it should be noted that Queen Elizabeth II learned to ride and maintain a motorcycle as part of her 1945 military service. If you happen to be riding in the vicinity of Balmoral and another rider waves at you in that odd, swivel-wristed way, perhaps it’s her!)

Riding on narrow British roads in all weather conditions can be a dangerous enough occupation. Doing so around the clock with the German Blitz going on around you required steel nerves. Training included the expected operating basics, but also extended to evasive maneuvers required to thread through bombed-out streets, and how to take cover behind your motorcycle if being attacked from the air.

The bikes used were mostly small, single-cylinder affairs, built specifically for military use. BSA, Royal Enfield, and Triumph all produced motorcycles in the 250cc–350cc displacement range, each with modest power. But the bikes were light and agile, perfect for the narrow English country lanes and city streets.

By 1942, the WRNS had stopped recruiting new riders. As German air power weakened, the threat from the blitz waned, though perilous weather, night-riding, and narrow roads remained everyday hazards. The Wrens continued to serve with good humor and a sense of sisterhood. At some point, the orders for the D-Day invasion were tucked into leather messenger bags, and a flock of Wrens fired up their motorcycles and headed out to deliver those historic messages.

This time, after the war ended, the WRNS was not disbanded. Instead, it continued until 1993, when it was eventually absorbed into the British Navy. Dame Matthews retired once the decision was confirmed. In an alcove in Westminster Cathedral, you can find a statue of St. Christopher holding a boat. Upon the boat’s anchor is perched a small wren.

As for the dispatch riders themselves, with wartime over, eventually their services were no longer required. Some returned to civilian life, hanging up their riding outfits for the last time. Some had found new passion and freedom on two wheels. Theresa Wallach, though dispatch riding for the Army rather than the WRNS, continued to ride motorcycles until she was 88 years of age. She died on April 30, 1999, her 90th birthday.

The success of the WRNS as a whole, and of the other women’s military auxiliaries, had the same effect in the UK as women’s greater roles in manufacturing did in the United States. Greater independence had been found, and it would continue to be fought for.

And, for a new generation, the retold stories of the Wren dispatch riders provided inspiration. Perhaps some young woman, reading about Pamela McGeorge, felt her own wrist twisting an imaginary throttle, and thought, “Well, why not? Perhaps someday I will fly too.”

The post The Flying Wrens: All-female British dispatch riders of WWII appeared first on Hagerty Media.

I was clipping along California’s Highway 58 when the peg touched down. A high sun soaked the pavement without interruption from clouds and made my dark-green riding jacket uncomfortably warm no matter how many vents I zipped open. The Triumph Speed Twin underneath kept goading me to ride faster, brake later, lean further, as we snaked through the hills between San Louis Obisbo and McKittrick.

The scrape was quick but still jarring. A footpeg brushing the pavement, the bike leaned over almost as far as it could go. 

At just three years old, the Speed Twin is relatively new in the Triumph lineup. At first blush, this seems like a bike no one asked for—strong vintage vibes from that tube-steel frame and those twin shocks, but a spec sheet that not-so-subtly lays out track aspirations. As Triumph tells it, the Speed Twin slots somewhere between the company’s more traditional T120 Bonneville—the Sixties tribute model with skinny forks and vintage looks—and its long and low Thruxton cafe racer, also based on the Bonnie. On paper, that personality can seem a little forced. This isn’t a comfy nostalgia play and it’s not an old-world corner carver, though you have to trace Triumph’s heritage all the way back to 1937 to find the roots of the name. The original Speed Twin came from the mind of Triumph chief designer and managing director Edward Turner, who shaved weight from one of Triumph’s relatively simple steel frames before bolting in a 500-cc parallel twin.  Single-cylinder bikes were more common back then, but Turner’s idea wasn’t revolutionary in the late Thirties, and the new Speed Twin isn’t revolutionary now. It’s just old-fashioned hot-rodding within a price and a blueprint, adding quality components and paying attention to the details.

The silhouette here is distinctly Bonneville. The engine case even wears that name, but the Twin shares little with the current version of the retro model that brought the Triumph brand back from the brink in 2001. The brand now uses the “Speed” nameplate on multiple engine-chassis combinations, with the staid, Bonnie-based bikes on one end of the spectrum and the full-fairing, track-ready Daytona models on the other. 

This bike feels and looks mature, its blacked-out details grown-up but still playful. The 1200-cc twin beneath that slender tank makes 100 hp and 83 pound-feet of torque, and for 2021, it gained a lighter crankshaft and a revised cam profile, improving response. The pops of grey from the aluminum triple clamps and fenders complement the machined cooling fins on each cylinder barrel. There’s none of the flash of faster and more powerful Triumphs, but this isn’t a machine for beginners. The narrow and low-swept handlebar, the flat seat, and those comfortable rearsets are certainly inviting, but it takes more than a little self control to keep this two-cylinder machine under the speed limit. The whole package seems to reward hooligan behavior, and you can easily get caught riding faster than you planned. Or surprising yourself with a dragged peg.

This is where those details count. That steel frame might not sound sporty on paper, and at 476 pounds, the Triumph isn’t exactly light. Describe the Speed Twin’s chassis to a bike person who hasn’t ridden it, they’ll likely tell you that they don’t have any interest in wallowing through corners. But the Twin doesn’t wallow. Steel gives the frame a forgiving feel, and the bike goads you into putting more angle into each corner. The twin-shock aluminum rear swingarm is simple, classic, and very pretty. You can overslow for corners and revel in the exhaust note as you rip out on the back tire, or you can smoothly set the whole thing up for a race line and delight in the feedback from that 43-mm Marzocchi front end. Those peg feelers never stood a chance. 

Big brakes complement the capable chassis. The Brembo M50 radial monoblocs up front rein in the bike with aplomb. Lever feel is linear and allows for easy trail braking. Those swept bars are pretty, but they’re also a perfect blend of narrow and wide, so you can muscle and lever the bike to your will while still in a fairly upright and comfortable position. (Try that on a Thruxton.) Add in the sticky Metzeler Racetec RR tires, and you have a confidence-inspiring and comfortable package for anyone who can tolerate the Triumph’s lack of windshield or fairing.

Finally, there’s that engine, the Twin in the bike’s name. It feels like a traditional modern Bonneville dialed up just a bit—still all rumble and easy torque, but also a little smoother, a little more snappy, more powerful. It also feels like a cheat code on a video game, smooth and tractable across the entire rev range.  If you don’t feel like revving the bike out, clean low-rpm fueling lets you quickly row the shifter to fourth or fifth gear, and then lazily squirt through traffic with ease, riding that wave of torque, no need to rack the gearbox to keep moving. 

Three rider modes (Sport, Road, and Rain) and anti-lock brakes round out a small but highly functional rider-aid package. Rain is clearly torque-limiting, but in any mode, you can chop the throttle to load the front end before grabbing a fistful of power, making the front wheel rise in a nice and predictable way. When intentionally working to trip the ABS, the system cycled quickly and was hardly abrupt, though it occasionally came off as slow to intervene—possibly a byproduct of those gummy Metzelers. Range is really the only negative: That gorgeous and traditional fuel tank fits the bike’s aesthetic nicely, but its 3.8-gallon capacity disappears quickly when you’re riding as the Triumph begs to be handled. Over several days of travel and testing across Southern California, we saw roughly 110 miles between fill-up and the point where the Twin’s fuel-reserve light would recommend a stop. 

This is a shame, because everything else here makes you want to go places. As with any unfaired motorcycle, one needs to be prepared for the wind blast, but the buffeting is no worse than with any other standard bike. The seat was comfortable in traffic and tolerable for moderately long days on back roads or highway, especially when you’re shuffling body weight around in corners. You just want to keep riding.

The triumph of this motorcycle—no pun intended—is the experience. Five minutes with Google will suggest a dozen bikes more comfortable, more powerful, more affordable. What you’ll struggle to find is a machine that blends so well what so many riders want. Every bike is a compromise, but the Speed Twin strikes a delightful and rewarding balance landed by few: It is a lovely and unassuming package with an appropriate amount of soul. It’s a throaty twin with timeless looks. It’s responsive, comfortable, and quick, and while it may not handle like a modern race replica, it uses modern components where it counts and works well enough that you seek out corners. 

From the long flat seat to the fake Bakelite spark-plug boots and the delightful negative space under those faux-carburetor throttles, the Speed Twin is a stupendous blend of contemporary and classic. If the looks draw you in, a ride will seal the deal. The fit and finish is appropriate for the $12,499 MSRP and it absolutely looks and feels like a Triumph. 

I fell in love with this bike this summer over just two days of testing on the road. The only reason I haven’t placed an order is opportunity cost, thinking of the various projects and silly adventures that twelve grand could buy instead. But this is a spectacular motorcycle, caught happily between two worlds. At not quite a dedicated sport machine and not quite a standard, the Speed Twin creates its own little niche in the market. If you want a good-looking motorcycle simply so you can enjoy motorcycling, with little compromise and some speed and a lot of heart, this one needs to be on your list.  

***

2021 Triumph Bonneville Speed Twin

Base price/as-tested: $12,500 / $12,800

Highs: Comfortable and confidence inspiring chassis, exhaust note that begs for more throttle, good electronics package.

Lows: Range can be a bit of a bummer with a machine this fun to ride.

Summary: A modern muscle roadster that is delightful to ride and look at. Performance and presence in a timeless package.

The post Review: 2022 Triumph Speed Twin appeared first on Hagerty Media.

GM shows off a trio of electric motors

Intake: GM has given us our first peek at three new electric motors that the company plans to use in a wide swath of upcoming products. These three motors are planned for Ultium-based EVs like the upcoming GMC Hummer EV and Cadillac Lyriq and all use “similar tooling and manufacturing techniques.” The family thus far consists of two permanent magnet motors at 180 kW and 255 kW (or 241 and 342 horsepower, respectively) and one induction motor at 62 kW (83 hp). Shown above are the stators of all three motors. GM added that the 180-kW motor is intended for FWD or AWD vehicles, the 255kW version is for performance AWD or RWD applications and that both were developed, “with the aim of minimizing reliance on heavy rare earth materials.”

Exhaust: Although it doesn’t look as exciting, these components may end up being as revolutionary to General Motors as the debut of the small-block Chevy for 1955 as these motors will soon power the majority of new vehicles unveiled GM over the next several years. The 62-kW motor is described as an “AWD assist” motor which could add rear-wheel power to more easily turn a front-wheel-drive vehicle into an AWD hybrid, or possibly the reverse if it’s used in, say, the mid-engine Corvette.

The Mercedes-Benz new EQS starts at $103,360

Intake: Pricing is out for Mercedes’ U.S.-bound EQS luxury sedan, ahead of its arrival at U.S. dealerships this fall. Starting at just $103,360 (including destination) for the EQS 450+, the Silver Star faithful will have three smartly-packaged trims to choose from: Premium, Exclusive, and Pinnacle. The price mentioned above is for the single-motor Premium. The dual-motor EQS 580 4MATIC Premium will run you $120,160, but you’ll net the swanky 56-inch curved-glass infotainment screen as standard. Moving to the Exclusive trim, the EQS 450+ and EQS 580 4MATIC will begin at $106,760 and $123,560, respectively. The range-topping Pinnacle trims will start at $109,560 and $126,360 for the EQS 450+ and EQS 580 4MATIC, respectively, netting fancier heated and cooled power rear seats and other goodies along the way. EQS customers will enjoy 24 months of free fast-charging via Electrify America, for when that 484 miles of range runs dry.

Exhaust: How serious is Mercedes-Benz taking the EV revolution? Well, the EQS is also priced a few thousand lower than its gas-powered S-Class competition. An S500, the base S-Class, begins at $110,850, and the higher-tier S580 starts at $117,350. This lozenge-shaped EQS is even more nondescript-looking, but what’s going on inside is a swanky package indeed.

007 Edition Tiger 900 is a tie-in Triumph

Intake: Another day, another license to print money. That could almost be the title of the next Bond movie, but we digress. The latest brand to bond with the 007 franchise is Triumph, which is set to release a run of 250 Tiger 900s as featured in No Time To Die, having already sold all 250 Scrambler 1200s it had ready for the film’s original release date. The Tiger 900 Bond Edition is based on the Tiger 900 Rally Pro, finished in black and gold. Every bike is individually numbered and comes with a certificate of authenticity along with a special 007-themed startup screen for the TFT instrument panel. The bikes are available worldwide with the U.K. price of £16,500 ($22,512).

Exhaust: The Tiger 900 really proved its ability in No Time To Die as stunt coordinator Lee Morrison can confirm. “We were riding them at high speeds and bouncing off the sides of cars during the Norway chase scene! It was amazing being able to ride behind and direct my lead stunt rider, constantly telling him to get in there, I want you alongside Bond, hitting the side of his door, cutting behind. There was a point where we jumped the Tiger over a car and under a helicopter. To have the confidence in a motorcycle to do all those things, on the move, while directing through an earpiece shows you how good that bike is,” he said. 

This one-of-a-kind Comet by Ant Anstead could be yours

Intake: Before he linked up with Jenson Button at Radford, Ant Anstead founded the Dowsetts Classic Car Company, which handcrafted classic-looking machines based on modern running gear. This 2018 Comet was one of the company’s creations and, in fact, is the only example made. Finished in Porsche Crayon Grey, the curvaceous composite bodywork sits atop a steel box frame, and power comes from a 6.2-liter LS3 V-8 mated to a five-speed Tremec transmission. Inside there are acres of Alacantara and quilted leather, plus a Motolita steering wheel. The car, which has covered just 2,500 miles, is heading to the block at Silverstone Auctions in November.

Exhaust: Dowsetts planned to sell the Comet for around $190,000 when new; Silverstone Auction says it’s “very sensibly guided and is now available at around half its build cost.” That sounds like quite a bargain for a one-off build like this.

Ford inks partnership with Redwood Materials for advanced battery recycling

 
Intake: In an effort to drive down battery costs, up the sustainability of EVs, and shore up supply chains for these complex chemistry projects, Ford has announced a $50 million investment and partnership with Redwood Materials to expand its battery recycling efforts. The Blue Oval says that by using Redwood’s recycling tech, it expects to recover up to 95 percent of the rare elements like nickel, cobalt, lithium, and copper from old batteries and turn them into useful components for new batteries.

Exhaust: The battery recycling industry is going to be interesting to watch over the next few decades. We’re huge fans of the notion of closed-loop supply chains here in the United States to accomplish such feats. Shoring up that cycle helps improve supply chain issues across the globe and helps to reduce the environmental footprint of the whole EV industry.

Honda Passport TrailSport adds rugged looks to highlight its off-road aspirations

Intake: The new TrailSport trim on the 2022 Passport adds fender flares, a rear bumper with larger exhaust cutouts, and unique front sheet metal and grille. It still has the 8.1-inches of ground clearance as other AWD Passports, but it does add new 18-inch wheels with more aggressive 245/60R18 tires.

Exhaust: It seems that Honda wants to remind us all of the inherent off-pavement capability of every AWD Passport, but truly show said acumen off with the new TrailSport. Most of the package’s additions, besides the wheel/tire combo, are appearance-based. The guts of its AWD system, plus the added traction of actual off-road tires, should help the TrailSport conquer the kind of rocky and rutted trails its owners would likely tackle.

The post GM’s new electric motors, Mercedes-Benz EQS pricing announced, more Bond Bikes appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Hagerty readers and Hagerty Drivers Club members share their cherished collector and enthusiast vehicles with us via our contact email, tips@hagerty.com. We’re showcasing some of our favorite stories among these submissions. To have your car featured, send complete photography and your story of ownership to the above email address.

Today’s featured car is a 1959 Triumph TR3, whose story was shared with us by Kurt Matters. The TR3 first belonged to Kurt’s brother Mark, who bought it in 1969. Mark had his heart set on an early MGTD, but the royal blue TR3 satisfied the basic criteria of nice-looking, British, and sports car. From road-tripping with their girlfriends to fixing roadside flats to sewing new seat covers on their mother’s sewing machine, the brothers shared many memories in the petite Brit.

In 1970, Mark was faced with a choice between college and the draft. He enlisted and sold the TR3 to his brother. On October 1 of that year, Mark was killed in Vietnam. Since then, despite a sequence of alternately improbable and disastrous events, Kurt has refused to give up on the TR3. Although he was forced to sell shortly before his brother’s passing, he scoured the classifieds until he found the TR3, which was then painted a “butt-ugly yellow, sitting on top of blocks, and leaking gas.” He paid to fix the TR3 and repaint it in its original blue.

The story hardly ends there. When the TR3 was stolen out of Kurt’s garage, he and his wife tracked the car to an impound lot, barely managing to rescue the now-abused Triumph from the crusher. When the clutch went out while Kurt and Joanie were on a road trip in southern California, they limped it back to L.A. “The only tricky part was toll booths,” Kurt writes.

When the now-aging TR3 began to rust, as the couple drove it less frequently, Kurt patched it up with Bondo fiberglass and “a piece of steel that a wonder man made for me ‘until I could afford a new one.’ Still there!” When the TR3 collided with a deer at 55 mph—”the headlights were looking at each other, and the radiator cap was in between the SU cabs”—Kurt wrangled with the insurance company and refused to give up the treasured Triumph. Thanks to the Matters, the TR3 stayed on the road, taking them on anniversary trips and family visits across the United States.

Multiple restorations, cross-country treks, and grandchildren later, Mark’s TR3 is still in the Matter family—a family that will never, ever leave it behind.

The post Rides from the Readers: 1959 Triumph TR3 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Hagerty readers and Hagerty Drivers Club members share their cherished collector and enthusiast vehicles with us via our contact email, tips@hagerty.com. We’re showcasing some of our favorite stories among these submissions. To have your car featured, send complete photography and your story of ownership to the above email address.

Today’s article stars not one, but two petite British two-doors, one from the ’70s and the other from the ’60s. The first is a 1964 Triumph TR4. The automaker unveiled the TR4 in 1961, and the model’s success showed Triumph that it had tweaked all the right aspects of the vehicle. Though the 105-horsepower, 2138-cc inline-four carried over from the TR3, the TR4’s Michelotti-penned design was fresh and handsome, offering improved storage and ingress/egress.

Our other featured Brit is a 1973 MGB GT, whose Pininfarina-designed greenhouse helped popularize the body style we now know as “hatchback.” As of ’73, a V-8-powered model was available, though in rather limited numbers; most MGB GTs sported the 1.8-liter B-series inline four.

These vehicles belong to a pair of young men who are passionate about keeping British sports cars on the road. In the Pre-Pandemic Era, Ian Crawford (MGB GT) and Nick Tonini (Triumph TR4) embarked upon a road trip from Lexington, Kentucky, to Braselton, Georgia, for The Mitty, one of the oldest vintage racing weekends in the U.S. Naturally, Crawford and Tonini tackled the Tail of the Dragon—twice, actually, on both their southbound journey and the return trip—and made many impromptu sightseeing stops to allow the MG and Triumph time to cool off. One such “rest stop” occurred at Turks Service Center, an abandoned gas station now home to nothing but old mowers and weed whackers, and another at a particularly spectacular Appalachian vista.

Both Brits made the entire trek requiring nothing more than a few parking-lot oil fill-ups and, in the Triumph’s case, a parts-store run for a throttle return spring. Sure, the smell of scorched tires accompanied the MG wherever it went—the rubber didn’t quite clear the inner front fenders—and the Triumph’s convertible top did a half-hearted job, at best, of staying in place. Crawford and Tonini still accomplished the trip successfully, arriving safely at Road Atlanta to soak in the delights of vintage racing (though they remained only spectators) and trekking north again in honest vintage style: no radio, dead cell phones, telling time by looking at their watches.

Check out more photos from their road trip below:

The post Rides from the Readers: 1964 Triumph TR4 and ’73 MGB GT appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Looking to put 2020 in the rearview mirror as fast as possible? What better way to do that than in a race car? Among the nearly 2500 vehicles at auction this month, including those from Mecum’s Kissimmee sale and the events put on by Worldwide, RM Sotheby’s, Gooding & Co., and Bonhams that would normally all be held live in Arizona, here are our top seven picks. Any one of these race cars would a memorable centerpiece of a motorsports collection.

Chevrolet No. 3 Monte Carlo Winston Cup Race Car

Mecum, Kissimmee Lot J190

Estimate: $75,000–$150,000

If you want to burn some gas, make a lot of noise, and intimidate your neighbors, a NASCAR Winston Cup Car checks those boxes with attitude. Mecum is offering this ex-cup car at its Kissimmee Florida event this week. Built by Richard Childress Racing in 1991 as a short track car, it was converted to a Monte Carlo in late 1994, but it doesn’t have much documented race history. However, Dale Earnhardt drove it and wears his iconic #3 livery. That counts for quite a lot—one of his ex-NASCARs sold for $209,000 in 2019.

1965 Shelby GT350R Fastback

Mecum, Kissimmee Lot F158

Estimate: $1.2M–$1.5M

Since the Ford vs. Ferrari movie, Shelbys have been hot. Everything from Cobras to the Mustang-based GT cars have been selling well. Of course, documentation and history matters when it comes to Shelbys, and Mecum is following up its record sale of the prototype GT350R for $3,850,000 at Indy last year with another GT350R. Chassis SMF5R106 wasn’t a team car, but it was raced in-period and will likely go for one-third of what the prototype sold for last year, or near the condition #1 (Concours) value for the car.

1952 Allard J2 Roadster

Worldwide, Scottsdale Lot 38

Estimate: N/A

Shelby’s Cobra is arguably the most successful example of putting a high-horsepower American engine into a sporty foreign chassis and going racing, but it wasn’t the first. In 1946, Sydney Allard hit upon the idea of using Ford’s V-8 in his own chassis. Initially using Ford’s 221-cubic-inch flathead, subsequent examples had larger and larger American V-8s. Worldwide is offering this 1952 Allard J2 with a 390-cubic-inch Cadillac V-8 and, while not exactly period-correct, the newer Cadillac engine maintains the spirit of the hold-on-tight performance of the Allard J2s. With the condition #3 (Good) value of the Allard J2 at $173,000, this car won’t likely lose much for non-originality.

1955 Jaguar D-Type

RM Sotheby’s, Arizona Lot 141

Estimate: $5.75M–$7.5M

Even though Allards dominated Jaguar’s XK 120 in racing in the late 1940s and early 1950s, its aerodynamics soon caught up with it when Jaguar countered with a much more slippery C-Type. As Jaguar continued to innovate in the 1950s, it saw the opportunity to build an even more aero-friendly shape and use an advanced semi-monocoque chassis. The result was the D-Type, which won Le Mans in 1955, 1956, and 1957. With that competition record, D-Types are worth several million dollars, and some can sell for a lot more with the right history. RM Sotheby’s is offering the 1955 Jaguar D-Type chassis XKD-518 with an estimate of $5,750,000 to $7,500,000. While the car is unusual because of its original red over red combination, it also has a well-documented history, which is important for D-Types.

1969 Triumph Group 44 GT6+ Mk. II

Bonhams, Scottsdale Lot 108

Estimate: $50,000–$70,000

Not everyone can afford a race car that costs millions, but there are still plenty with solid history that will run you a lot less. Looking a bit like a small Jaguar E-Type, Triumph’s 2.0-liter inline-six-cylinder-equipped fastback GT6 was a steal when new and is still considered a bargain today. The same is true for its racing variants, and Bonhams is offering one campaigned by the Group 44 team in 1969 and 1970. (It won its class in the SCCA national championship in 1969.) Perhaps fittingly given that the Triumph GT6 was intended to be a junior Jaguar E-Type, Group 44 would successfully race a Jaguar E-Type Series III Roadster. With an estimate of $50,000 to $70,000, it is above the condition #1 (Concours) value of $38,000 for a street car, but not by all that much. As a race car it is likely to hold its value; it sold for $55,000 in 2012.

1972 Lancia Fulvia Coupe 1600 HF Series 2 “Fanalino”

RM Sotheby’s, Arizona Lot 124

Estimate: $30,000–$40,000

Not everyone wants to worry about keeping their race car in pristine condition, and RM Sotheby’s has just the right car for those people. Offering a 1972 Lancia Fulvia “Fanalino,” this rally car has a hot 1.6-liter V-4 engine driving the front wheels. While the Fulvia didn’t win the World Rally Championship, it did win the series’ predecessor and taught Lancia what it takes to win—lessons it applied successfully with cars like the Stratos, 037, and Delta. This car doesn’t have any period rally history noted, but it was campaigned numerous times in Europe between 2008 and 2014. Now showing some battle scars and rust, the car appears to be ready to enjoy worry-free.

1926 Bugatti Type 37 Grand Prix

Gooding & Co., Scottsdale Lot TBD

Estimate: $650,000–$850,000

The line between neglect and patina on a race car is at times vague, but sometimes the patina looks right and can make the car worth a lot more than its restored peers. Gooding & Company is offering this 1926 Bugatti Type 37 Grand Prix car chassis 37227 with a healthy amount of patina. Owned by one individual from the mid-1950s up until his passing in 2019, its condition reflects an un-messed-with car that is rare among Bugattis of this era. Forgoing the exotic roller-bearing inline-eight-cylinder engine of the Type 35, this model achieved racing success with a less complicated and more reliable four-cylinder. Values for Grand Prix Bugattis vary widely, from the low six figures to several million dollars depending on the car’s provenance. Chassis 37227 is expected sell in the top half of that range.

Like this article? Check out Hagerty Insider, our website devoted to tracking trends in the collector vehicle market.

The post Speed into 2021 with 7 race cars up for grabs this month appeared first on Hagerty Media.

(Hey folks! We need more reader questions to answer for this column. Won’t you send us a question about cars to pistonslap@hagerty.com? – SM)

Hagerty’s own Jeff Peek writes: 

I have two questions for you. I own a 1967 Triumph Spitfire MK3 … or at least that’s the year listed on the title. See the “commission” number below. A few years ago a friend told me that although the FD indicated a Spitfire Mk3, the year isn’t ’67. Do you know what year it really is?

The other question has to do with the wiper motor. It died a few years ago, The motor is completely dead—not even a whimper. I thought about taking the easy way out and buying a new one, but they cost way more than I want to spend (that’s if you can find them). I’m not a born-and-bred car guy; I was bitten by the bug much later in life (much to my father’s chagrin), so I ask … Might this simply be a case of the grease getting old and mucking up the mechanism? And most importantly, is it something a novice like me can “fix” himself or shouldn’t I chance it?

Sajeev answers: 

Interesting questions! I had no idea some (all?) Triumph motor cars had such a vague identification number, but I’m gonna wager your friend is wrong: Yours was built in the first year … but I’m getting ahead of myself. 

After researching and reading this thread, I’ve done my best to sort out your Spitfire’s identification/commission tag.

• FD = Spitfire Mk3
• 7737 = The line number of all Mk3s made (from January 1967–December 1970, 65,320 units total)
• L = Left-hand drive
• O = Overdrive transmission (?)
• 32 = Signal Red paint (pull the carpet back one day and verify that!)
• 11 = Black upholstery

While I’m surprised that nobody’s dug into British Leyland’s archives and given a rough estimation of which units were made in a specific year, this page suggests that “although manufacturing dates are available in some cases, the initial registration date of the vehicle is what is most often used.”

So if a 1967 Spitfire sat on a dealer’s lot long enough to cross calendar years, it would actually be classified as a 1968 model? Well, that’s both a logical and depressing explanation!

I am sure Spitfires are like most vehicles; more units sell in the initial years of production. Combine that with the fact that 7737 is a small fraction of 65,320, and I reckon the odds are good that yours is a 1967. I mean, with less than three years of production, isn’t it likely that no. 7737 rolled out of the factory in 1967?

Now let’s get to the wiper motor. If completely dead, it’s likely that either no power going to the motor or that the motor itself needs to be rebuilt. So check for power first: A voltmeter connected to the power and ground wires in the wiring harness (probably black for ground, green for power) helps determine whether the problem is upstream (like a fuse) or downstream (the motor itself). If downstream, rebuilding a motor is simple: disassembling the case and removing the part that spins the mechanism. Once removed, the repair process is like that of any other electric motor, but I don’t necessarily recommend rebuilding the motor yourself. Most cities still have a local alternator/starter repair shop, so ask local mechanics for a recommendation if the Google “near me” search comes up with nothing.

Moss Motors sells a new assembly for a little more than $100, but I reckon you can get it done for half the price … if a local shop can rebuild your motor. Who knows, you might get lucky and the root cause is a bad fuse or burnt wiring. Best of luck!

Have a question you’d like answered on Piston Slap? Send your queries to pistonslap@hagerty.com and give us as much detail as possible so we can help! If you need an expedited resolution, make a post on the Hagerty Community!

The post Piston Slap: The 1967 Triumph Spitfire that isn’t from 1967? appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Hair and clothing styles rarely age well, but vehicle trends seem to fade only to return a few decades later. The latest evidence of this phenomenon? ’70s choppers.

Millennials have zero nostalgic connection to the ’60s and ’70s chopper craze and have no reason to reflect longingly on these highly stylized bikes. The absurd frame modifications and over-extended front forks are just the start with these custom jobs—consider the even wilder seats, handlebars, and paint work. Choppers don’t exactly showcase timeless elegance. Even so, ’70s choppers seem to resonate with generations born years after the fad passed.

As two young folks, Kyle Smith and I picked out five choppers from Mecum’s Las Vegas Motorcycle Auction that we think are ridiculous—and way cool.

1967 Triumph “Captain America”

Choppers scream Americana and Route 66, and the Harley brand goes with choppers like Hallmark goes with Christmas. A Triumph chopper might surprise you, especially one wearing a Captain America paint job; but once the bobber craze of the ’50s turned into the chopper craze of the ’60s and ’70s, anything counted as art, British bikes included. A few builders wouldn’t touch a British engine—and some still don’t—but the Triumph twins became almost as famous as Harley Panheads and Knuckleheads.

This 1967 Triumph chopper is a textbook example from How to Build a Chopper, first edition. King-and-queen seat? Check. Wider rear tire on a smaller rim? Check. Raked front end with springer forks? Check. Narrow ape bars? Check. Captain America paint job? Check.

We’d take it.

1948 Harley Panhead

This Panhead is worthy of an Easy Rider reenactment. A Triumph chopper is cool, but a Panhead crammed into a chopped frame looks even better. This example has a first-year ’48 Panhead, an engine that gets its name from the pan-shaped rocker covers atop the cylinder heads.

Prior to 1969’s Easy Rider, a flick that accelerated the chopper craze, Panhead engines were the “budget” V-twin option found on shop shelves or in the back corners of garages. Tim Graber, the owner of Classic Motorcycle Consignments, recalls that “Panheads at the time were old, used-up, and cheap to work with compared to the newly produced Shovelhead.” Once Easy Rider splashed the famous Billy Bike and “Captain America bike across the movie screen, however, Graber says that conservative riders came out of the closet. The Panhead choppers were seen as “absolutely beautiful, strong, and representing freedom.”

1953 Harley Panhead

This bike is the only one in this collection to feature a flat-sided “coffin” gas tank, and it also looks like a project in waiting. This chopper’s missing some pieces and doesn’t appear to have any brakes. Its extreme style might not resonate as much as the peanut tanks and king-and-queen seats of other choppers, but it exists in a niche of styles from years gone by.

On a happier note, the ’53 Panhead engine represents a nice upgrade from the 1948 engine. To improve reliability, Harley upgraded the Panhead’s oil pump, and the rockers, lifters, and valves were redesigned for better oil flow. Parts are fairly readily available for these bikes, making a spring ride possible if you stay focused all winter.

1949 Harley-Davidson Panhead

We know, we know—this is the third Panhead in a row, but the trio is a reminder that the Panhead was (and is) the iconic base for a chopper build. This particular one is both wilder and more tame than most: The paint is as out-there as you can get, but the front assembly is strangely understated. Our best guess? While the crazy 4–8-inch stretched front forks photograph well and look crazy on the street, they can make a bike a real handful to ride. This Panhead uses a stock frame and front end, meaning that its builder likely wanted a cool custom that wasn’t too demanding to ride.

1968 Honda CB450

Triumphs and Harleys get most of the love these days, but just about any ’70s bike could be the base for a custom. Builders used what they had, and that’s the reason why this CB450 twin is so far-out. The frame is nearly unrecognizable for the changes. Interestingly, the builder elected to replace the rear shocks with twisted and chromed solid metal. Choppers aren’t about comfort—but that just seems a bit excessive from where we sit.

Do any of these customs spark a bit of societal rebellion in you? If they do, maybe you should embrace that impulse and head to Mecum’s Las Vegas auction. Trends go in cycles, and choppers are on the return.

Like this article? Check out Hagerty Insider, our website devoted to tracking trends in the collector vehicle market.

The post These 5 choppers from the ’70s are cool enough to bridge generations appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In show biz terms, a triple threat refers to a person who can sing, act, and dance. From that perspective, Steve McQueen was just one-for-three. (Before you mention Baby the Rain Must Fall, no, that was not McQueen’s voice. His vocals were dubbed.)

On the other hand, McQueen remains a certified triple threat in automotive circles: He could act, drive, and ride. When it comes to cars and motorcycles, and especially movie cars and motorcycles, McQueen’s name is as magical as the words barn find. He was the bad-boy version of Paul Newman, saying and doing the things the rest of us couldn’t, and we admired him for it.

For those reasons and more, today marks a sad anniversary. Forty years ago, on November 7, 1980, the King of Cool succumbed to cancer. He was only 50 years old.

“Steve McQueen was the quintessential bad boy—in his movie roles and his life,” says Dave Kinney, publisher of the Hagerty Price Guide. “He didn’t follow the rules; he always had an attitude that he was getting away with something. And he was always associated with vehicles, both in the movies and his life.

“He was a bon vivant, a risk taker, a sex symbol, an accomplished driver, and a movie star. That combination hasn’t really happened before or since. Paul Newman, yes, to an extent, but he wasn’t a bad boy—he was a nice guy who was married to the same woman for decades.

“Steve McQueen lived life on the edge, and because he died before he was an old and decrepit man, he’ll be forever young.”

Not only are McQueen’s movie roles legendary (Bullitt and The Great Escape immediately come to mind), in his “spare time” he excelled at driving and riding. McQueen drove a BMC Mini to a third-place finish in a British Touring Car Championship race in 1961, won the 12 Hours of Sebring in a Porsche 908 in 1971 (with a cast on his left foot), and was inducted into the Off-Road Motorsports Hall of Fame in 1978.

Naturally, he did a lot of his own driving and stunt work on the big screen.

We’ve written thousands of words about his most famous movie cars and motorcycles, as well as those he personally owned.

Here are 7 of our favorites:

1968 Ford Mustang from Bullitt

If Steve McQueen was the quintessential bad boy, then the Bullitt Mustang is the quintessential McQueen car. Interest in the Highland Green fastback hit a fever pitch starting in early 2018, when news broke that the legendary pony car—which had been in hiding for years—was “found” (more accurately, its owner and location were revealed to be) in Nashville. A whirlwind of stories followed: speculation regarding what the Mustang might be worth, to a rehash of the movie that made it famous, to a discussion with screenwriter Alan Trustman. Finally, in January 2020, the Bullitt Mustang sold at auction for $3.74 million.

1970 Porsche 917K from Le Mans

“Racing is life,” McQueen’s Michael Delaney says in the 1971 movie Le Mans. “Everything before or after is just waiting.” True, perhaps, for both the character and the actor. One of the 917s from the iconic racing film (chassis no. 917-024) sold for a record $14 million in 2017. Hagerty’s Aaron Robinson wasn’t surprised.

1962 650cc Triumph TR6R from The Great Escape

There’s no more famous McQueen bike than this one, which was one of the three TR6Rs used in filming. In the movie, set in World War II Germany, McQueen makes a daring escape from prison on the stolen motorcycle, a failed getaway that includes a 65-foot jump over a barbed-wire fence. Fun fact: McQueen wanted to do the stunt himself, but Bud Elkins ultimately did it. Elkins later served as McQueen’s double in Bullitt.

1967 Con-Ferr Buggy Meyers Manx from The Thomas Crown Affair

The Meyers Manx, developed by SoCal native Bruce Meyers, was the ultimate funmobile, and McQueen wanted to use one in The Thomas Crown Affair. Not just any Manx, mind you. He asked Pete Condos of Con-Ferr fame to custom-build one. Like the Bullitt Mustang, the dune buggy’s whereabouts were unknown for a time. Once rediscovered, it sold for $456,000 at Bonhams’ 2020 Amelia Island Auction.

1979 Pontiac Trans Am (or what’s left of it) from The Hunter

We just wrote about this last month, but we don’t want to leave it off the list. Blown up during the filming of The Hunter, McQueen’s final movie, which was released three months before his death, the Trans Am is surprisingly intact, albeit a tad on the crispy side.

1945 Willys Jeep MB from McQueen’s personal collection

Considering how many personal vehicles McQueen bought and sold through the years, this one was clearly dear to him. The WWII Jeep not only remained in his garage until his death, but its original California license plates were renewed on October 31, 1980, just one week before McQueen passed away.

1951 Chevy Styleline DeLuxe Convertible from The Hunter

Another car from McQueen’s final movie, this yellow Chevy convertible was so beloved by McQueen that after The Hunter wrapped, he bought it for himself. Clearly, the Styleline has lived a better life than the Trans Am from the same film.

The post 40 years after McQueen’s death, we celebrate 7 of his best rides appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Instead of typing away furiously at my keyboard writing stories, sending emails, and generally creating corporate synergy like a good employee, I’ve spent the last few hours in front of the window of the spare bedroom behind my office, looking out on the long curve in my paved driveway. I sip cold coffee and picture the concrete as a racetrack. Imagining where the race line would be. Picturing how I would roll on the throttle just past the first evergreen tree. I set up for the lazy right hander that would connect me to the main road …

This is all because my editor sent me a link to this Triumph Trackmaster on Bring a Trailer. It’s his fault I’m being so unproductive.

It’s delightful to imagine the bike’s Triumph TR6-sourced twin-cylinder engine thundering along a race track, its trumpet exhaust broadcasting the thump of the 750cc engine. That 100-cc bump over the stock powerplant would be welcome, but not strictly needed, considering that a stock TR6 made 42 horsepower. This bike’s constructor combined that increased displacement with a set of Mikuni carbs and free-flowing exhaust, producing a bike that’s not only gorgeous but also highly capable.

That balance between attractive and functional defines the rest of the bike, too. In fact, the engine is a footnote to the Trackmaster frame. The engine may be Triumph, but the frame is Triumph by way of Ray Hensley, who was contracted in the late 1960s and early ’70s to create lightened racing frames for the British firm’s racing efforts. The resulting Trackmaster frames feature track-specific geometry and do away with the tabs and mounting points for necessary street-legal hardware—hence the lack of a headlight in that gorgeous fiberglass fairing. For the same reason, there’s no taillight tucked under the minute tail section.

I would be all the way back on that tail section, rear wedged against the small bump of a seat as I powered out of a corner and tried to tuck into the smoothest slipstream possible. Then, an abrupt transition from go to whoa as I clamped down on the Grimeca disc brakes. The braking force of the two rotors in front and a single one in the rear would shift my weight forward, loading the Ceriani front fork as I began to turn in and pop my knee out, shifting ever so slightly to the right, preparing to blast out of another corner. The Works shock in the rear would work diligently to put the power of the parallel-twin to the pavement without skipping the tire.

This red-and-white blur would stand up with a twist of my right wrist as I carefully kept the bike in the powerband by manipulating the shifter with my right foot when the lone gauge—a 12,000 rpm tachometer—dictated a gear change. With five gears to choose between, it would be important to pick the right one on each section of the track. Even more so if this bike were equipped with the TR6 four-speed.

I would apex the heck out of my driveway and the bike would love it. The only problem? I don’t own this Triumph, and there are a few more days until the auction ends. For now, I’ve got to get back to real business. Interested in buying this bike and realizing your own track-day dreams? You’ve got three days left until the auction ends.

The post This Triumph Trackmaster is ripped straight from my daydreams appeared first on Hagerty Media.

With custom bike culture exploding in recent years, the history and importance of the two-wheeled machines that first rolled off of the production line are often overlooked. Stock Stories tells the tales of these motorcycles.

By 1949, Triumph viewed the United States as a very important market. Sales of the Speed Twin had already demonstrated that there was demand for lighter-weight machines—lighter, at least, than the typical large twins that Americans were used to. However, the main question about the Speed Twin was its capability on longer stretches of road that were typically encountered in North America.

The Thunderbird rises

Edward Turner, General Manager and Chief Designer at Triumph, had made several trips to the U.S. after WWII, where he received just this feedback. The Speed Twin was light, and just as fast as the bigger native motorcycles, but for longer journeys a 500cc capacity just wasn’t enough. In typical Turner thinking, he looked at what engineering solutions were possible with resources Triumph already had. (Using existing stock and marketing it as a new product was key to keeping costs and development time down.) Boring out the T100 engine out to 649 looked like the best solution, which was perfectly feasible without compromising the integrity of the barrel.

With the development of this new powerful long hauler underway, Turner was looking at how best to market this new machine in the United States. Legend has it that he was inspired by the Thunderbird Motel in Florence, South Carolina. The indigenous iconography of a supernatural bird associated with power and strength seemed like perfect name to ignite the imagination of American motorcycle riders.

Once the development had come to a head, Triumph needed to prove that the Thunderbird could cover long distances at high speed. With the Brooklands track no longer operating, Triumph looked to Montlhéry just outside of Paris as a testing ground. Not only were three Thunderbird prototypes run at the banked track as a publicity stunt, but they were ridden from the Meriden works outside of Birmingham, U.K., to the track and back. At Montlhéry, the three Triumphs all covered 500 miles at an average of 90+mph with the bikes roaring up to the iconic “ton”—100 mph—on the final lap.

From its launch in 1950, with the T6 model denoting a 650cc capacity, the Thunderbird was a great success. It resoundingly achieved its goal of light weight, high speed, and long-distance usability. For this reason, it was used by police departments worldwide, and in the U.K. it was known to law enforcement as a SAINT (Stop Anything in No Time). Again, for the same reason, the Thunderbird became popular with the famous Ton-Up Boys.

In the film The Wild One (1953), Marlon Brando rode a Thunderbird as the rebel rousing gang leader Johnny Strabler. This iconic image brought the motorcycle to the attention of a younger, more style-conscious audience. At the time Triumph didn’t want to be associated with the film, not surprising given that it was banned in the U.K. for 14 years. Once Triumph realized the pulling power of Brando, it capitalized by issuing an all-black version that became known as the Blackbird.

Ironically, by the time the film was finally granted an X-rated certificate, the Thunderbird no longer held the appeal it once did at its outset. Later stylings had turned it to a more commuter-savvy machine. By the late 1950s changes were made to the bodywork to include fully valanced fenders and “bathtub” bodywork, enclosing the rear wheel. These made sense to the British rider who rode often in the rain, whereas the American market had no practical need for such changes. With this less-sporty look, the Thunderbird fell out of fashion. American dealers were ordering more Triumph Bonnevilles, stripping off the fuller body headlight and fenders and replacing them with TR6 versions in order to keep the more aggressive styling.

The Thunderbird would continue to be made up until 1966 with the new Unit construction engine being used from 1963. During this time, it would always be overlooked by customers in favor of the new Bonneville. It is important to remember that the Thunderbird was the first 650cc Triumph to satisfy the American market and paved the way for later models in styling, performance and marketing.

The instrument “Nacelle”

Designed in order to group all the instruments in a visible and usable position. All the instruments are rubber-mounted on the streamlined panel, making them easier to clean and maintain.

The SU carb

One of the distinguishing things about the 1952 variant is that Triumph decided to switch to an SU MC2 carburetor, chosen for its fuel economy and smooth acceleration. The MC2 was devoid of the power surge present in the Amal Monobloc. The delivery of mixture and resultant power was smooth and constant throughout acceleration.

In order to link the carb to the air filter, a donut shaped lug was incorporated into the down tube, through which the connecting tube passes. This lug distinguishes the Thunderbirds built between 1952 and 1955 from all other years.

Setup of the SU carbs was something that couldn’t be done by staff from the Triumph works; a dedicated SU tuner (Jock West in this case) would have to be hired to come to the factory and tune the carburetors one by one before the Thunderbirds could leave the factory. Ultimately, the necessary expense of this situation proved one of the reasons why Triumph didn’t continue with the MC2.

The sprung hub

Turner started working on the sprung hub design in 1938, his intention was to design a simple low-weight and low-cost solution to rear suspension. Inspired by the hub suspension in the Gloster Gladiator made by Dowty, Turner designed a small plunger-type suspension with 2 inches of travel to fit within the rear hub.

The war delayed integration of the hub, originally intended for the 1940s Triumphs, until 1946. A Mark 2 version was introduced in 1951. The sprung hub would be Triumph’s only rear suspension offered for its parallel-twin models up until 1955. Other than adding some rear shock absorption, the sprung hub made it easier to incorporate rear suspension into existing rigid frames and offered an aftermarket choice for existing customers. Turner, clearly, was very in tune with how business was done for profit.

Taking apart a sprung hub is notoriously dangerous due to the compressed springs, and it even has a warning cast into the housing. Mark 1 hubs had a grease nipple but the Mark 2 was built without, as the factory grease was rated for 20,000 miles. Restorers: Beware when taking that hub apart!

Martin Squires is a bike-obsessed and U.K.-based artist. Check out his Facebook, Instagram, and website.

The post Stock Stories: 1952 Triumph Thunderbird appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Jonny Smith, host of the YouTube channel The Late Brake Show, caught up with legendary designer Ian Callum in his workshop/studio where Callum is working on his Singer-style reimagination of the Aston Martin Vanquish, the VC25. The space is also where he also stores his beautifully curated collection of cars.

“What I like about my cars is that they are of a time when I dreamed of having them; they were attainable,” Callum tells Smith as the two take a stroll through the shop. “And that in many ways was the whole ethos of Jaguar … They weren’t overly exotic but they were just on the edge. It’s important that my cars are like that.”

Here are some highlights, along with Callum’s personal impressions of each car:

Porsche 993-based 911 RSR homage

“The 993 is my favorite 911 of all time,” the designer says. “It’s just such a pretty car. It’s got a totality about it that I’ve always loved. The simplicity of the front, it all wraps back on itself and encompasses the wheels. You know that somebody spent months executing these forms—not days or weeks, but months.”

German tuning company Roock Autosport performed the upgrades, stripping the car out and turn it into an RSR homage.

Aston Martin Vanquish

The first car built on Aston’s long-lived VH architecture, the Vanquish was a major technical step forward. It was modern, sophisticated, refined, and timelessly styled. The 5.9-liter V-12, mated to an F1-style six-speed paddle-shifted manual gearbox, churned out 460 hp and 400 lb-ft of torque. The arrival of the Vanquish S in 2004 brought more power, totaling 520 horses, amid other improvements.

“I realized one day that I’d never owned a car that I have worked on, so I thought the Vanquish was the one I should really have,” says Callum. “I wanted an S, as it’s a little bit quicker, a little bit more sorted. It’s only got 24,000 miles. It’s kind of a strange thing, when I drive it, it’s remarkably modern. The weight distribution is very good, because the engine sits quite far back. It addresses the aesthetic we wanted, but also the weight distribution. It actually handles and drives quite well, but that’s probably why I don’t drive it as much. The other cars are a little bit more interesting to drive.”

Triumph TR6

“I love this,” Callum remarks of his Triumph. “When I was 20 years old, my best friend had a brand-new one, and we used to drive to London in it, and to Edinburgh and Glasgow and go to the clubs in it. I have fond memories and I think that’s what hooked me into this. It’s such a fun car to drive. Of all the cars I’ve got, this is the car I drive the most, by far.”

The TR6 was the last of Triumph’s proper roadsters, complete with a 2.5-liter straight-six, separate body and chassis, and even then-crude independent rear suspension. They make great first classics and sound great, which is surely one reason Callum doesn’t tire of his.

1932 Ford hot rod

The Deuce is perhaps the most widely known and beloved of America’s classic hot rods, appealing to car fans across generational, demographic, and national barriers.

“Again, it’s a childhood thing. Prompted by some magazines my brother [Moray, VP of Design at Ford] bought for me some American car magazines and there I found the ’32 Ford. And I’ve been in love with it ever since. Under the hood is a Windsor 351 small-block with a carburetor. It’s probably touching 400 horsepower. I never in my life dreamed I’d have a ’32 that looks as good as this.”

Austin Mini Cooper S

Forever remembered as the hero of the Monte Carlo Rally and the star of The Italian Job, John Cooper’s hot-rod take on the humble Mini city car is a lot of personality in a small package. As a native Brit, it should come as no shock that Callum holds this Mini dear.

“I bought this car nearly 25 years ago—it wasn’t very old when I bought it, maybe 18 months,” reflects Callum. “I’ve done the suspension, I’ve done the wheels. The engine’s stock, I’ve got rally seats which helps a lot, I’ve got four-pot caliper brakes. It handles really well, and it’s still only got 25,000 miles on it. This one’s a keeper.

Jaguar XJC

“It’s quite extraordinary. The XJ was a beautiful car, but it was the shorter-wheelbase one that works. It just makes the overall proportions so much better. The real classy bit is that it’s pillarless. It’s such a beautiful car. It’s very elegant, it’s very beautiful, it’s very graceful, as a Jaguar should be.”

At the end of the video, Callum reflects on his 20 years with Jaguar. “I’d done what I wanted to do. I’d only planned to do ten to fifteen years. I came in there with a mission to try and bring it back to where I felt it should be. It probably took a bit longer than I’d hoped. I got to the point, after I-Pace, and the next XJ, I felt like I’d done what I needed to do.”

Hopefully, now, the talented designer has time to enjoy that rather choice fleet.

The post Take a tour of designer Ian Callum’s wonderful car collection and studio appeared first on Hagerty Media.

When I was young, my dad traded our four-passenger Singer for a 1954 Jaguar XK120. The XK120 remained with us until the late-1960s, but by then, it was too late—I had become a car person.

I moved to San Diego in 1976, and a few years later, I spotted an odd-looking car with a windshield in the trunk, which was quite strange. A closer look revealed folded seats in there, too! Turns out the car was a 1947 Triumph 1800 roadster that was owned by a local who, at one time, was a member of the San Diego Triumph Roadster Club. It found its way to an owner in Calexico, California, who then stored it in my friend’s warehouse. Little did I know that very car would someday be mine.

The Triumph roadster was designed in the closing days of World War II. Standard Motor Company bought Triumph in 1944, and managing director Sir John Black wanted a sports car to take on Jaguar, for which SMC had supplied engines before the war. The roadsters were built on an ash frame, with an aluminum bonnet and boot, and steel fenders. Production ran from 1946 to 1949, first as the 1800 model and then as the 2000.

The engine was a variant of Standard’s 1.5-liter four-cylinder side-valve design, which had been converted to overhead valves by Harry Weslake and built by Standard exclusively for SS-Jaguar before WWII. The Triumph version differed from the Jaguar version in having a 6.7:1 compression ratio (versus Jaguar’s 7.6:1) and a downdraft Solex carburetor instead of the Jaguar’s side-draft SU. It was mated to a four-speed on the column with synchromesh on the top three ratios.

With its rear windscreen, the 1800 roadster is probably the world’s smallest dual-cowl phaeton. It actually looks as if it were designed by two different people, because the longer front section doesn’t seem to flow with the very squat rear. A journalist old enough to remember the prewar Dolomite roadster that had inspired the 1800 felt that the elegant proportions of the earlier model had been abandoned in favor of a committee-based compromise, “a plump Christmas turkey to set against that dainty peacock.”

By 2014, I was on the hunt for a project. After some investigation and a choice between this car and two other Triumph 1800 roadsters, I decided to buy it and restore it to my own tastes. I spent the next four years sourcing hard-to-find components, correcting previous errors, fabricating parts, and rebuilding the car with help from many craftsmen around San Diego.

During the restoration, I joined the Triumph Club in England and was able to sell some of the parts I’d fabricated, including wiper knobs and stainless dash escutcheons, windshield wiper stops, rear window frames, and custom billet “Dickey Steps” for access to the rear jump seat. I gave it a two-tone paint job to help balance the proportions, and for more oomph, I installed a 2138-cc TR4A engine with dual Stromberg carburetors and a Ford 8-inch rear end. I also replaced the column- shift manual with a four-speed floor shifter, and I added Pertronix ignition and an electric radiator fan.

The 1800 roadster is the Welsh corgi of Triumphs—a little car in a big-car body. It is also a pleasure to cruise in, and it’s always a conversation starter at shows.

The post This 1947 Triumph 1800 roadster is meticulously restored—and regularly enjoyed appeared first on Hagerty Media.

In the car universe, some collectibles are reliably magnetic. Wheel up to a concours, Sunday’s cars and coffee, or any other gearhead gathering in an early Sting Ray, an E-Type, or a vintage “patina pickup” and you’ll immediately find appreciation and friendship thanks to your ride.

Well, motorcycling hosts the same dynamic. In between heavies like Vincents and innumerable small-displacement Japanese bikes exists a nice selection of blue chips that are affordable, fun to ride, and beautiful—and they will always pass peer review among real bike folk. Here are three favorites you can typically find in ridable condition for $6000 or less.

1969–73 BMW R75/5

Except for its race bikes, BMW’s boxers had a slowpoke reputation from 1923 until the 1973 R90S debuted. Built for practicality, the flat twins seemingly eschewed performance as unbecoming. And so, although born in the superbike era, the R75/5 isn’t one; instead, it’s endearingly conflicted. The 745cc engine coughs rather than roars to life, and the opposed cylinders and longitudinal crankshaft rock the chassis, metronome-like, at idle. More polarities: The torque curve is wider than the Rhine; the gearbox can shift either clunkily or smoothly; the suspension offers luxurious travel; and shaft drive makes the R75/5 leap like a breaching whale when you throttle up. But the ride! Capable of 1000-mile days, the R75/5 delivers nearly vibration-free touring. Chrome-sided ’70s “toaster tank” models are now iconic.

1969–76 Honda CB750 Four

This bike changed everything. The Honda 750 Four held the rare distinction of merging huge engineering advances with rampant performance and affordability thanks to its high production volume. The SOHC 736cc four-cylinder superbike hit America in 1969, thumping Harley-Davidson and British bike makers in the process. What made the CB750 special? Four gorgeous cylinders making a snarling 67 horsepower, four sweeping chromed megaphone exhausts, four carburetors, crisp styling, big gauges, glitch-free electrics, easy starting, a hydraulic front disc brake, and no oil leaks. It was all there, it was all Honda, and it was alright, man. Most valuable are the 1969 units with sandcast engine cases; for peak affordability, look for 1973–74 examples.

1954–73 Triumph T100 Tiger

Launched in 1937 as the Speed Twin, Triumph’s pushrod parallel twin saw war and peace, played movie roles in 1953’s The Wild One and 1963’s The Great Escape, and permeated literature as Jupiter’s Travels author Ted Simon circled the globe. The genial 498cc OHV Tiger embodies the golden era of British bikes. It adopted modern swing-arm rear suspension in 1954, and in 1960, Triumph unitized the engine and transmission to strengthen the power-train. Today, a sweet spot for affordable Triumph twins is the twin-carb 1969–73 T100 Tiger Daytona. Easy to start, simple to work on (in an English sort of way), culturally relevant, and impeccably styled, it’s like a Savile Row suit—always in style.

The post 3 midsize street bikes that won’t break the bank appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Although nothing can stop the Dawn Patrol hats from going out (patience, people), there wasn’t much of a Monterey Car Week this year—for obvious reasons. Thankfully, despite the pandemic canceling just about everything, there was the usual flurry of auctions, albeit online and pared down to three major sales: RM Sotheby’s, Gooding & Company, and Bonhams. There were still 262 vehicles on offer, however, and even though the focus (as usual for Monterey) was on the high-end stuff, we kept an eye out for deals, like we always do. And when we say “deals,” we don’t necessarily mean “cheap,” we mean there were some cars that sold for a lot less than we thought they would. Here are the six that most surprised us.

1973 Triumph GT6 Mk III

Bonhams, Lot 14

Estimate: $25,000–$35,000 / Sold for $12,880

Hagerty Price Guide condition #2 (Excellent) value: $18,700

When the GT6 was new, Triumph priced it to compete with the MGB GT. For years the two little British coupes were worth about the same, despite the Triumph being rarer, prettier, quicker, and sporting two more cylinders. The secret got out, however, and good GT6s have been selling for more serious money lately—n some cases more than 20 or even 30 grand. This price was a few years behind the curve. The car was the fifth lot of the Bonhams sale, so maybe people weren’t paying close attention yet. Bidding opened at 10 grand and then stalled there. It took forever to get to the $11,500 hammer bid, but the new owner could likely flip this one pretty easily, or just bask in the joy of getting a great car at a rock-bottom price. Buyer’s choice.

1940 Lincoln-Zephyr Continental Convertible

Gooding & Company, Lot 58

Estimate: $50,000 –$70,000 / Sold for $39,600

HPG value: N/A

The 1940 model year was the first time Lincoln used the “Continental” name on one of its cars. It was also the first use of the now-famous “Continental kit,” as lack of trunk space in the original car resulted in an enclosed spare wheel stuck upright on the tail. Just 350 of these original Continental convertibles were built in 1940, largely by hand and powered by the silky smooth Lincoln-Zephyr V-12. They even had a power-operated top. In 1940!

This car has rarity and good looks going for it, it’s a CCCA Full Classic, and it’s an older concours-restored car with the trophies to prove it. A result under 40 grand for such a beauty amounts to a real score for the buyer. Even more surprising? When we realized it sold for $88,000 in Scottsdale back in 2009.

1957 Ford Thunderbird

Gooding & Company, Lot 32

Estimate: $45,000–$55,000 / Sold for $44,000

HPG condition #3 (Good) value: $68,400

This T-Bird looked just a little rough around the edges, but it’s a two-owner California car that’s largely original, other than a 1970s repaint and some older mechanical freshening. It’s also a desirable three-speed manual car with the “E-Code” 270-hp dual carb engine. With all that going for it, we would have expected this car to easily be on the other side of 50 grand.

1971 Volkswagen Transporter by Peter Brock

RM, Lot 209

Estimate: $70,000–$90,000 / Sold for $27,500

HPG value: N/A

Us car folks mostly know Pete Brock for, well, car stuff. He designed the original Corvette Stingray racer and the Shelby Daytona Coupe, and his Brock Racing Enterprises (BRE) Datsuns cleaned up in SCCA racing in the 1970s. After the BRE days, though, Brock really got into hang gliding and founded Ultralite Products, which eventually became the largest hang gliding company in the world. That’s where this old VW bus comes in.

Built as a support vehicle for long-distance hang gliding competition, it has custom touches from Brock like the aerodynamic roof rack and, most importantly, the Buick 215-cubic-inch V-8 sitting in the back. Offered directly from the Brock family and recently featured on Jay Leno’s Garage, it sold for less than half of RM’s presale estimate—and about what a decent stock 1971 Transporter would. So the buyer effectively got the Peter Brock history, with the V-8 power out back thrown in for free.

1967 Volkswagen Beetle Convertible

Bonhams, Lot 11

Estimate: $18,000–$24,000 / Sold for $15,680

HPG condition #3 (Good) value: $22,000

This isn’t dirt cheap for a Beetle, but for a clean, restored ’67 convertible in a good color and sporting both a rebuilt engine and rare fender skirts? It’s a heck of a deal. It was a good day for VW bargains in general, as later in the day a ’62 Beetle convertible (Lot 50) brought only $16,800 and a nice ’65 Karmann Ghia (Lot 103) coupe went to a new home at just $14,560.

1967 Maserati Mexico 4.7

RM, Lot 141

Estimate: $120,000–$140,000 / Sold for $106,700

HPG condition #3 value: $143,000

The Vignale-styled Mexico isn’t the most inspiring car Maserati ever built, but it’s a handsome, fast, comfortable, classic Italian thoroughbred with room for four. This one ticked the right boxes with its 4.7-liter engine (up from 4.2), five-speed manual, and power steering, and aside from some general wear it’s a fundamentally good car condition-wise. We saw it up close in Scottsdale three years ago and rated it in #2- (somewhere between good and excellent) condition. It sold there for $137,500, which itself wasn’t a massive result for a 4.7-liter Mexico. Yes, 106 grand is a ton of money, but considering the car it bought, it’s a bargain.

The post 6 bargains from the 2020 Monterey online auctions appeared first on Hagerty Media.

No matter how you look at it, the car hobby isn’t a cheap one. There’s buying a car, then there’s registration, insurance, fuel, and storage to consider. And that’s before you even get to parts and maintenance. Luckily, though, there are tons of entry-level vehicles out there that offer the fun and satisfaction of collector car ownership.

There’s no real set definition for what “entry-level,” means, but $15,000 is a reasonable ceiling. With that budget, we focused on three (very) different ways to spend it. Of particular interest were vehicles that have grown in value over the past few years but still fall under our 15-grand price cap in #3 (Good) condition. When we talk about cars in #3 (Good) condition, we’re talking about most collector cars out there: vehicles that run well and look good enough to be proud of but show the light wear, tear, and occasional incorrect parts that come with regular use.

1969-76 Triumph TR6

Median Condition #3 value: $13,300

The TR6 came out in 1969, and it was old-fashioned right off the bat. The construction was body-on-frame. The ride was bouncy. The cockpit was narrow and a little cramped. The 2.5-liter straight-six was a cast iron, overhead valve lump based on an old tractor design. Even the styling was a bit dated. The front and rear sections of the TR6 were new (courtesy of Karmann), but the body’s middle section was the same as the old Michelotti-designed TR4 from way back in 1961. When the Datsun 240Z arrived in 1970, the Triumph was already a rolling anachronism.

Fast forward 50 years, though, and that whole “old-fashioned” thing doesn’t really matter as much, does it? When you’re into classic cars, old-fashioned is kind of the point. And despite its primitive layout, the TR6 was a good performer. Any Paul Newman fans out there? He won his first SCCA championship in a TR6.

Now that TR6s are proper classics, the old school touches like the solid wood dash and throaty straight-six are all part of the charm. They also aren’t hard to find and they don’t cost very much. It turns out the last of the classic hairy-chested English roadsters is also one of the most affordable, and for only a few grand more than the equivalent MGB you can have a TR6 with two more cylinders and a bit more cachet. The TR6 is also cheaper than the TR3, TR4, and TR250 that came before it, and it’s tens of thousands cheaper than an Austin-Healey 3000. Parts availability is quite good, and these are relatively easy cars to work on.

Triumph exported the vast majority of the nearly 92,000 TR6s it built, so there are always lots of TR6s on the market, from tattered projects to fresh restorations and pampered originals. They’ve gotten a little pricier over the past few years, but that’s down to a widening gap between the best cars (#1 and #2 condition) and more flawed cars (#3 and #4 condition). While condition #2 values are up $2000 over the past five years, condition #3 values have been mostly flat, up just $600 over the same period. So if you like to tinker, a TR6 with a little patina remains a great-looking, fun-to-drive bargain.

1993-95 Ford F-150 SVT Lightning

Median Condition #3 value: $10,300

When General Motors introduced the Chevy 454 SS in 1990 and the famous Ferrari-beating GMC Syclone in 1991, Ford just had to respond with a high-performance pickup of its own. Enter the F-150 Lightning.

Along with the Fox-body Mustang-based 1993 Cobra/Cobra R, the Lightning was the first vehicle from Ford’s newly formed Special Vehicle Team, aka SVT. Based on the regular cab, short-bed F-150, the Lightning borrowed a 351-cubic-inch Windsor V-8 from the F-250. SVT worked the engine over with a new intake, tubular exhaust manifolds, and GT40-type cylinder heads for 20 percent more power (240 hp total), then lowered the ride height, beefed up the suspension, and added 4.10 gears. On the outside, the Lightning stood out from the work truck crowd with shiny 17 x 8-inch aluminum wheels, body-colored grille and air dam, and subtle (for the 1990s, anyway) neon “Lightning” decals on the rear flanks. The Lightning’s turn of speed wasn’t quite as electric as the name implied, but a 4400-pound truck hitting 60 in the mid seven second range and the quarter-mile in 15.6 seconds was impressive stuff in 1993.

Sure, the resurrected 1999-04 Lightnings offer more power and modern amenities, but they stretch past our $15,000 budget. So do the original Lightning’s main competitors from the General—the 454 SS and the Syclone. Meanwhile, early Lightnings barely crack five figures in #3 condition, and even a Lightning in #2 (Excellent) condition comes in at just $17,200.

Lightning values have gone up over the past several years, as they have for almost every classic truck, but the growth has been more modest. Condition #3 values are up $1700 over the past five years, compared to a $5800 bump for the 454 SS and a massive $17,750 for the Syclone.

Ford sold 11,563 first gen Lightnings over three years, which isn’t a lot, but even very nice ones aren’t impossible to find. Because of the strong interest in general, along with the fact that the Lightning was SVT’s debut model, longer-term prospects are good for this hi-po hauler.

1978-84 BMW 633CSi

Median Condition #3 value: $11,700

The original BMW 6 Series ran all the way from 1976 to 1989. In BMW-speak, this model is known as the E24, while some in the Bimmer faithful call it the “sharknose” car. Designed by Paul Bracq, whose greatest hits also include the Mercedes-Benz 600 and W113-series 230/250/280 SLs, the 6 Series replaced the popular but aging E9 model. It came to America as the 630CSi in 1977 with a monumental price of $23,500 (about $101,500 adjusted for inflation). The next year saw a better-performing 633CSi model with a 3.3-liter version of the M30 straight-six and 1982 saw improvements to the chassis and suspension, but E24 sales were always modest in the U.S. Most Bimmer-buying yuppies in the ‘80s chose an E30 3 Series or an E28 5 Series instead. As is so often the case, the 6 Series that came to us here in the States was a slower version of the one those lucky Europeans got.

The most desirable sharknose 6 Series, the M635CSi/M6, is predictably way past our $15,000 budget, but more pedestrian versions like the 633CSi are surprisingly cheap, especially when you think about the kind of coin it took to buy one new. The median condition #3 value is up $4000 from this time three years ago, but it’s still barely in the five figures at $11,700. A 633 in #2 (Excellent) condition barely breaks 20 grand.

One important thing to remember, though, is that these are sophisticated cars that were not always treated with sophistication in return, so neglect and deferred maintenance is common. Thorough service records are more important than super-low odometers and shiny paint, because your cheap classic European GT can quickly turn into a money pit.

The post Under $15K: 3 classics with wildly different personalities appeared first on Hagerty Media.

A few years ago, I wrote a piece about a 1970 Triumph GT6+ that I bought in the summer of ’76, just after I graduated high school—how it was the first and easily the worst car I’ve ever owned, and how the rust, metal fatigue, and electrical issues (headlights dying at night and wipers dying in the rain) verified that everything bad you’ve ever heard about British cars is true. The experience was so negative that it waved me off British cars for 37 years, until I bought a dead ’74 Lotus Europa Twin Cam Special in 2013, a decision for which I still have no defense.

As I said in that piece, the GT6 nearly killed me several times, as it would swap ends if anyone so much as breathed a film of moisture onto the asphalt. Between first exhibiting this behavior and attempts to correct it, GT6s went through three different rear suspension designs. The original Mk1 cars had a solid rear axle and a single leaf spring configured crosswise between both rear wheels. Mk2 cars like mine kept the single leaf spring but added half-axles with universal joints on them, something with which I was intimately familiar because one of them ripped out. The Mk3 cars—the ones with the slightly kamm-tailed rear end—finally had fully-independent rear suspension via a leaf spring over each wheel.

Despite the reliability issues and the handling quirks, the car did certainly have its charms. GT6s look like little E-Types, they’ve got that unmistakably British wood dashboard with Smiths gauges, and the de-stroked six-cylinder TR6 engine made it a right quick little thing, especially in second gear. Nonetheless, for years, the market didn’t recognize GT6s much differently than Spitfires, or—to look at another British GT hatchback—the MGB GT. That’s certainly changed. The days of the running, solid $4000 GT6 are gone. The eyeballed median value on Bring a Trailer looks to be about $15,000, with a few spectacular examples selling for north of $35K.

But my car, which had spent two years serially stranding me, had a 2×4 for a front bumper because one of the bumper brackets was bent and it was the only thing I could make work to pass Massachusetts inspection. And it was rusting badly at the floors, rockers, and fender bottoms. It certainly wasn’t worth that in 1978 when I was a poor college student and it was draining what little money I had while I was simply trying to keep it running (“sorting out” wasn’t even a concept my mind understood yet). When I advertised it for sale, and a fresh-faced 17-year-old kid from Northampton offered me $500 for it, I accepted, and prayed that the car made it from Amherst to ’Hamp so I could keep the cash without dispute.

I have dreams about cars with which I had substantial formative experiences, and this certainly includes the GT6. In the dream, I usually find it still sitting in the carport of our house on Maplewood Drive in Amherst. If you ask around, you find that these dreams are quite common in vintage car circles. Many folks take it a step further and actually search for their old car.

I always felt that the odds my GT6 survived were slim to none, and I wouldn’t have wanted its corroded carcass back even if I stumbled onto it for free, but I have certain things that I reflexively type into Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace search windows, and to this day, “GT6” is one of them. Most of what shows up in these local searches is rusty garbage (this is New England, after all; our climate eats cars for lunch and spits them out as fertilizer), but you never know what’s out there without those keyboard clicks terminated with the enter key.

And so, I came face to face with this:

The ad said “1966–68 Triumph frame. I believe it’s a GT6 Mk1. Complete with front suspension, steering, brakes, and independent rear suspension. Rolls and steers fine. BEST OFFER!! No trades.” One photo immediately triggered a 43-year-old memory; I instantly recognized the single leaf spring and those six big studs and nuts holding it to the differential and recalled vividly the time I had to replace said differential, had to unbolt those nuts, and needed to use a crowbar to lever the leaf spring back down to reattach them. With no one around to help, I wrapped the end of the crowbar with a towel and muscled it into position with my forehead. Ah, the risk-blind practicality of youth. Hey, you don’t forget a repair where part of your face is used to hold a crowbar.

I looked at the rest of the photos and thought I’d test drive my other ancient GT6-specific knowledge. I saw one pic that was a close-up of the differential from the other side. There, plain as day, were two universal joints. Together with the single crosswise leaf spring, this nailed the car as an Mk2, not an Mk1 like the ad said. I had a little laugh to myself. I know that, when cars sit for decades, information gets lost, but a car is really out on a ledge when even the seller doesn’t know what it is.

I lazily paged through the other photos (I mean, how interesting can a frame really be?). When I came to the one photographed from the front, I saw something that made my eyes go wide.

One of the bumper brackets was bent.

Then I read the ad again. The location was listed as Northampton.

No! Could it be that this was the frame from my car?

I paged through the photos again and noticed that one was a shot of the VIN stamped into the frame.

As I wrote last week in my piece about being overrun by my own stuff, I’m an inveterate pack rat and don’t throw anything out unless I have to, but despite a short frantic search in old folders of records, I didn’t find any registrations or repair receipts that might have my GT6’s VIN on it.

I messaged the seller, asking if the car the frame was from was maroon and if he bought it from a guy in Amherst in 1978, but never heard back. The odds are, of course, miniscule. It’s probably a coincidence. And it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’d want to buy the frame so it could remind me of my misspent youth while rusting in my backyard. Still, the idea that part of the car survived and might be able to help some other GT6 restoration is tantalizing.

So, GT6 bones, whoever you belong to, and whatever awaits you, I salute your not wanting to go gentle into that good night. As Dylan Thomas wrote, “Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.”

Which is, of course, what I did whenever I had electrical problems with the car.

***

Rob Siegel has been writing the column The Hack Mechanic for BMW CCA Roundel magazine for 34 years and is the author of six automotive books. His most recent book, Just Needs a Recharge: The Hack Mechanic Guide to Vintage Air Conditioning, is available on Amazon (as are his other books), or you can order personally-inscribed copies here. His new book, The Lotus Chronicles, will be released in the fall.

The post My dreams are haunted by the bones of a Triumph GT6+ appeared first on Hagerty Media.

If you wanted to be among the top 10 motorcycles at Mecum Indy, you could have bought or sold anything from rare turn-of-the-century American bikes to Japanese and British ’70s superbikes, to 2000s American iron. Whatever your taste, let’s look at the top 10 motorcycles at Mecum Indy 2020.

1947 Harley-Davidson Knucklehead Chopper

Sold for $14,300

Knuckleheads are all about the engine. The stampings must be correct and looked over with a fine-tooth comb and every part verified it is original from the model year. Any deviations detract greatly from the value. When one of these valuable engines is in a chopper, you get an interesting combination of a valuable engine in a custom and chopped package. Love it or hate it, these have a cult following and some riders love ’em. To some it’s a lifestyle play, to others it’s an art play.

1979 Honda CBX

Sold for: $14,850

Combine one of the best-sounding motorcycle engines ever made with classic ’70s naked-bike styling and you get one of Honda’s most recognizable models. With #1 values north of $23K, collectors are buying up clean CBXs and paying top dollar for them. Just make sure the exhausts are original and don’t have rust at the welds to the headers, as this is a big sticking point for CBXs. This one looks to be in 2- (Excellent minus) condition and sold for 3.5 percent over condition appropriate HPG value.

1952 Harley-Davidson Servi-Car

Sold for: $15,400

To  some, a classic Harley covered in grime and rust (or patina, as some call it) looks better than a perfectly restored bike. The Servi-car here fits the bill. These Servi-cars were built by Harley to serve utilitarian purposes and often got put into police duty, but nowadays they are mostly admired at parades or shows rather than pulling over Al Capone’s luxury sedan or serving parking tickets in New York. This one has a patina that can only come from years of service wear and tear, followed by being tucked away in a barn for years, and the buyers paid up for it. It sold for just above 3+ (Good plus) values.

2007 Ridley Autoglide Classic Trike

Sold for: $18,700

If the buyer of the Servi-car wanted something a little more modern, then this is the ticket. Ridley is a small manufacturer that I’d never heard of until today, but it appears that its main product is an automatic-transmission trike. At a time when drivers and riders are valuing usability over collecting dust, an automatic trike will appeal to many as a way to get out and explore.

2001 Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide

Sold for: $19,800

From old Knuckleheads to new Sportsters, Harleys are synonymous with being customized in a minor or major way to fit a rider’s personal style. This Dyna Super Glide is not one of them, and it likely will remain untouched and on display for many years to come. It was previously owned by Jay Leno, displayed on The Tonight Show stage for 30 days, and was signed by each guest. Then Leno auctioned it on eBay to benefit the Twin Towers Fund. The price then was $360,200—that’s about 1719 percent more than it went for this time around.

1975 Kawasaki Z1

Sold for $20,350

The Z1 was Kawasaki’s answer to Honda’s first superbike, the CB750, and it was a better bike in many ways. As Japanese superbikes are finally getting the respect they deserve in the collector market, due to their historical significance, style, and power (collectors want to ride their bikes nowadays). Don’t expect to see these disappear from the road though; owners are still out there using them as reliable transportation. The first-year 1973 Z1 is worth the most, but the later Z1A and Z1B are creeping closer. This one sold for 9 percent over #1 values.

1975 Norton Commando 850

Sold for: $24,200

It shook. It leaked. It rattled. It flexed. Then it got bored-out 100cc, two disc brakes, and an electric start, and it became the bike it always should have been.  In the late ’60s and ’70s, the Brits were always playing catch up with their Japanese rivals who always seemed to provide the customer more for less in a more reliable package. No one was able to provide the soul and character of the British bikes, though, and they defined an era of motorcycling for the Boomer generation. This Commando brought an extremely high price, selling for nearly 80 percent above the #1 value.

1973 Triumph X75 Hurricane

Sold for $27,500

The Triumph Hurricane takes the prize of one of the most “70s” 1970s bikes. The Hurricane had a psychedelic style with bright orange paint and swooping bodywork designed by Craig Vetter, made famous by creating fiberglass touring fairings at a time when manufacturers weren’t attaching them stock. The Hurricane was limited to 1200 units and launched at a time when BSA went bankrupt and the British market struggled to touch the heels of the technologically advanced Japanese bikes coming in fast. Nowadays, the limited production and unique styling bring top dollar, and this one sold for 4 percent over #1 values.

1918 Indian Board Track Racer

Sold for: $40,700

Indian board track racers strike a chord with most any racing enthusiast, and they bring back an era of racers risking their lives far beyond any risk seen today. Values for these fluctuate vastly, based on what reproduction parts are present, their known history, and overall condition. Like with the Servi-car above, however, patina, rust, and grime only add to the appeal, and board track racers are often seen with faked patina. This one looks like a solid example that isn’t missing anything major.

1911 Pierce-Arrow Four

Sold for $225,500

Four cylinders and about 700ccs weren’t just for the CB750. The Pierce Four was introduced 60 years earlier, in 1909, as the first four-cylinder American motorcycle. It could only muster a max speed of 60 mph, but that was fast for the day, especially when it was able to do it with minimal vibration from its smooth engine. Early models had fixed gears and no clutch, but this 1911 model brought in more usability with a clutch and two-speed transmission. The bike is likely destined for a personal collection or museum, but with the popularity of events like the Motorcycle Cannonball, it just might happen to be out on the road one day.

The post The 10 most expensive motorcycles sold at Mecum Indy 2020 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Think 1970s sports cars and likely MGs, Alfas, Datsuns, and Triumphs come to mind. Maybe a Jag or a Porsche. Or maybe a Ferrari, if you’re feeling fancy. The Jensen-Healey, meanwhile, remains an obscure choice among classic two-seaters even though it married three of the most famous names in the fun car business—Jensen Motors, Donald Healey, and Lotus. A flawed but fun car, the Jensen-Healey offers performance and rarity over its British roadster brethren, but even very nice examples are still surprisingly cheap.

Austin-Healey, the long-running partnership between Austin and the Donald Healey Motor Company, ended in 1967 after 15 years. Donald Healey, suddenly free to build whatever he wanted, looked to make another sports car. Meanwhile, Jensen Motors in West Bromwich, England, was in trouble. Jensen assembled the Sunbeam Tiger and built the bodies for the Austin-Healey 3000, so having both of those cars bow out at the same time was a big hit in the pocketbook. There was then a shakeup at Jensen when Kjell Qvale, West Coast distributor of British and other foreign cars, became a majority shareholder of the company in 1970. He made Donald Healey chairman.

Donald and his son Geoff then set to work on a new Jensen sports car, using a unitary body along with Vauxhall suspension and steering bits. A few engines from Vauxhall, Ford, and BMW were considered, but Colin Chapman of Lotus stepped in with an offer to use his Type 907 twin-cam alloy four. Similar to the unit used in ’70s Lotuses like the Eclat and Esprit, the unit was new and untested, and that would be a problem later.

The performance was bristling, however, with over 140 horsepower from 2.0 liters, so the Healeys went for it. Mounted at a 45-degree angle, the Lotus engine got twin Dell’Orto carbs in Europe while we got dual single-barrel Zenith Strombergs here in the States. All cars got a four-speed borrowed from Sunbeam. Suspension is by double wishbones and coil springs in front and a live axle in the rear, while braking is by discs in front and drums in the rear. The shape is in the same vein of other classic British roadsters, but the Jensen-Healey stands out, given the absence of a grille out front and the intake hidden behind that prominent front bumper.

After debuting at the Geneva Motor Show in 1972, the all-new Jensen-Healey was ready for production. Priced above everyman two-seaters like the Datsun 240Z and Triumph TR6 but below a 911 and an E-Type, it garnered praise for good balance and handling. That Lotus engine also impressed with a zinging exhaust note and plenty of oomph … as long as it was getting oil.

Even among British sports cars, the early Jensen-Healeys stood out for leaking oil, and even in normal situations some cars had trouble keeping oil pressure. Fuel leaks were another issue, and warranty claims were common. Although Jensen mostly sorted out the oil issues, you only get one first impression, and the car’s reputation took a big hit. At least it won 1973’s SCCA D-Production national championship to get some street cred. A Mk II version in 1974 got a mild facelift inside and out, with larger bumpers, more exterior brightwork, and either woodgrain or wheel wood dash. A Getrag five-speed was the biggest news under the skin.

By then, though, tensions at the top led the Healeys to leave Jensen in 1974. As a last-ditch effort, and after Donald Healey had left the company, Jensen introduced a model that combined the Jensen-Healey platform with added luxury for a more affordable price than Jensen’s V-8 Interceptor. The Jensen GT that resulted was a rakish shooting brake in the same vein as the Reliant Scimitar or Volvo 1800ES, offering air conditioning, a walnut dash, power windows, alloy wheels, a couple of small back seats, an optional Connolly leather in a sporty package, and 17 cubic feet of storage space. Performance suffered a bit with the added weight of the roof, but not drastically. Despite positive reviews, however, the GT was never going to save Jensen, which had been in financial trouble for years. Labor unrest, rising supply costs, energy crises, and slow sales took their toll, and by the end of 1976 Jensen’s doors were shut for good.

Only 511 Jensen GTs left the factory, and a little over half came to North America. As for the Jensen-Healey roadster, about 75 percent of the 10,000 cars completed came here.

When it was new, the Jensen-Healey cost more than a Triumph TR6, but given the exclusivity, extra power, extra gear, and lighter weight when compared to the Triumph, the higher price tag seemed justified. Now that both roadsters are classics, however, they’ve switched places, with the Jensen-Healey carrying a median Condition #2 (excellent) value of $15,000 compared to $23,700 for the TR6. Chalk it up to the Triumph being more attractive, more reliable, better-sounding, and enjoying a larger fanbase, but that makes the Jensen-Healey look like a bargain in comparison.

And they seem to be staying in entry-level territory. Prices have crept up over the past few years but they haven’t done anything drastic. We rarely see sales break out of four-figure territory. A top-notch low-mile car brought $22,000 on Bring a Trailer back in 2016, but even very nice cars typically sell in the teens. Jensen GTs (if you can find one) sell for similar prices as the roadsters, which is an even bigger bargain in terms of rarity.

As for which Jensen-Healeys are best, it largely comes down to personal preference. Some people like the Mk I cars with their better-looking smaller bumpers, and most problems in early cars have been sorted by now. On the other hand, some people want the five-speed and better equipment in the Mk II cars, so prices are usually similar. Expect to pay an extra $500 or more for a car with a factory hardtop.

Far more important than what year Jensen-Healey you’re looking at is the condition. Even among classic British cars, Jensen-Healeys stand out for their susceptibility to rust. Floors, trunks, rockers, and sills are particular trouble spots. The Lotus engine is also temperamental if it isn’t looked after. Since they’ve long been cheap sports cars, a lot of Jensen-Healeys out there are in rough shape and would cost more to put right than they will ever be worth. Rather than spending your time and money fighting rust and oil leaks, it makes more financial sense to buy one that somebody else has already sorted with their own time and money. That’s true for all classic cars, but it’s especially true for these.

The good news is that most Jensen-Healey parts are still available, even reproduction body panels. Most cars should have also had oil and fuel issues sorted out by now. Popular and proven upgrades like Weber or Dell’Orto carbs and Toyota five-speed swaps also give these cars even more sparkling performance.

The Jensen-Healey isn’t perfect, but what car in the 1970s was? It’s quicker, prettier, and rarer than most. And with a well-sorted car you can have Lotus performance on an MGB budget.

The post Flawed but fun, 1972–76 Jensen-Healeys are surprisingly cheap appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Anthony Hamilton, known to most of the world as racing driver Lewis Hamilton’s dad, has consigned 18 cars from his collection to UK-based Silverstone Auctions as part of the company’s “Classic Live Online Auction” July 31–August 1. Hamilton has good taste, if I do say so myself. There’s a group of well-restored British sports cars (particularly Triumphs), a few nice Minis, and a couple of supercars thrown in for good measure. A full list of the collection is below.

1932 Wolseley Hornet March-bodied Special

Presale estimate: £35,000–£40,000 ($44,604–$50,976)

Not to be confused with the Mini-based Wolseley Hornet of the 1960s, the ’30s Hornet was a full-fledged (albeit tiny) sports car with a 45-horsepower 1271-cubic-inch overhead-cam six and chain drive. It was a popular platform for racing specials in Britain, and this one is represented as one of seven cars fitted with a body designed by Freddie March, the same English aristocrat who founded the Goodwood circuit.

1954 Swallow Doretti Roadster

Presale estimate: £55,000–£65,000 ($70,092–$82,836)

Despite its Italian-sounding name, the Swallow Doretti is English from top to bottom, with Triumph TR2 mechanicals underneath a body designed by a chap named Frank Rainbow. This one is restored in lovely blue over red leather, piped in blue.

1954 Swallow Doretti Roadster

Presale estimate: £55,000–£65,000 ($70,092–$82,836)

If blue isn’t your color, Hamilton also has this fully restored Swallow Doretti in maroon over oatmeal, piped in tan. Seeing two Swallow Dorettis in the same place isn’t something that happens every day, since only 276 were built. Do a little napkin match, and you’ll find Anthony Hamilton currently owns 0.7 percent of all Swallow Dorettis ever built. If that doesn’t seem like much, that’s like owning 30,800 of the 4.4 million Ford Thunderbirds built.

1957 Chevrolet Corvette

Presale estimate: £75,000–£90,000 ($95,580–$114,696)

A C1 Corvette is always stylish, but in the U.K., early versions of America’s Sports Car border on exotic. This one received a restoration in the 1990s and has the most desirable 283-cu-in/283-hp Fuelie engine, although it isn’t represented as matching numbers.

1957 Triumph TR3A

Presale estimate: £25,000–£28,000 ($31,860–$35,683)

Triumph updated the TR3 in 1957 with door handles, a lockable trunk, and a revised grille, and the unofficial name for this facelifted model became “TR3A.” This one, like so many Triumphs, was originally a left-hand-drive North American model. It came back home in the ’90s, then got a restoration and right-hand drive conversion in the 2000s.

1958 Austin-Healey 100-6 BN4

Presale estimate: £30,000–£35,000 ($38,232–$44,604)

In Austin-Healey speak, 100-6 refers to the six-cylinder roadster built from 1956–69, and BN4 refers to the 2+2 model with rear seats for (very) small children. The BN6, meanwhile, is a proper two-seater. The 100-6 is relatively affordable among the Big Healeys, and this one sold new in Alabama, of all places. It went back home and was converted to right-hand drive in 2012.

1959 MGA Twin Cam Roadster

Presale estimate: £55,000–£65,000 ($70,092–$82,836)

In 1958, MG took the MGA upmarket in price and performance with a “Twin Cam” version, giving the A’s engine a dual overhead cam head, four-wheel Dunlop disc brakes, and racy Dunlop centerlock steel wheels. The Twin Cam offered 108 horsepower, a big boost over the 78 in the pushrod MGA 1600, but high price and some early teething problems with the engine killed sales. These days, however, MGA Twin Cams are among the most collectible postwar MG models. This one sold new in North America then came back to the UK within the past few years for a restoration and conversion to right-hand drive.

1960 Triumph TR3A

Presale estimate: £35,000–£40,000 ($44,604–$50,976)

Another case of pick your color, this TR3A was originally a California car, but it’s now right-hand drive and wears an older show-quality restoration.

1960 Alvis TD21 Series I Drophead Coupe

Presale estimate: £40,000–£45,000 ($50,976–$57,348)

Vintage Alvises offer style and sophistication nearly on the level of Rolls-Royce and Bentley, just in a smaller, slightly sportier package wearing a more obscure badge. The TD21 wears a Graber-designed, Park Ward-built body, and this one has had a 1998 body-off restoration. Coys reportedly sold it in 2007 for £31,171 ($39,724).

1965 Morris Mini Traveller De Luxe

Presale estimate: £20,000–£24,000 ($25,488–$30,586)

This 1965 Mini Traveller wears a ’90s restoration, is a De Luxe model with a heater and extra chrome, and it looks impressive. Not as impressive as the resume of its first owner, however. It was reportedly bought new by Louis Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma, uncle of Prince Philip and second cousin once removed of Queen Elizabeth II. He was also a Royal Navy commander in the Pacific during World War II and the last Viceroy of British India.

1960 Triumph Italia 2000GT

Presale estimate: £120,000–£140,000 ($152,929–$178,417)

The brainchild of an Italian Triumph distributor, the Italia 2000GT wears a body by Giovanni Michelotti, who practically became Triumph’s in-house stylist during the 1960s and borrowed several features from the Italia when he designed the TR4. Just 330 of these stylish coupes left the factory.

1968 Morris Mini Cooper S

Presale estimate: £30,000–£35,000 ($38,232–$44,604)

A fully restored Australian market Mk I Cooper S with driving lights and lovely colors, this Mini probably offers more fun per dollar than any car out of this collection.

1968 Triumph TR5

Presale estimate: £80,000–£90,000 ($101,952–$114,696)

For many Triumph fans, the TR5 is the best of both worlds. It marries the extra grunt and great noises from the later TR6’s 2.5-liter straight-six with the more attractive Michelotti-penned lines of the TR4. British and European buyers (as usual) got the better end of the deal with a fuel-injected 150-hp TR5, while Americans got a slightly watered-down carbureted version called the TR250. Hamilton’s TR5 looks gorgeous, especially with the original “Surrey” hardtop and finished in Wedgewood Blue over Powder Blue. Silverstone says it “has been frequently acknowledged as the best [TR5] in the world.”

1971 Radford Mini Cooper S

Presale estimate: £45,000–£55,000 ($57,348–$70,092)

Although conceived as a basic economy car, the Mini was a style icon, and modified ones became popular among ’60s celebrities like the Beatles, Peter Sellers, and Twiggy. Two of the best-known builders of bespoke Minis were rivals Wood & Pickett and Radford, but this car is unusual in that the original owner ordered it new from Wood & Pickett, then had it sent to Radford for conversion to a full hatchback rear, then sent it back to Wood & Pickett for final assembly. The bits that set it apart from more pedestrian Minis include the full Smiths gauges, wood rim steering wheel, vinyl roof and sunroof, fender flares, and wood door trim.

1977 Triumph Stag

Presale estimate: £25,000–£30,000 ($31,860–$38,232)

The Stag wasn’t a particularly successful car for Triumph, but it looks good and this is a nice one. Since many out there are in rough shape and several have had their original Triumph V-8s replaced with a Rover or other unit, a fully restored, matching numbers home-market car like this is a standout.

2006 Ford GT

Presale estimate: £250,000–£280,000 ($318,601–$356,833)

Only about 100 2005–06 Ford GTs were imported to Europe originally, so these red, white, and blue American supercars are a very rare sight over there. This one reportedly has just 43 miles, so even among Ford GTs (which nobody seems to actually take out and drive) it’s very carefully preserved.

2006 Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren Coupe

Presale estimate: £175,000–£200,000 ($223,021–$254,881)

Given that Lewis Hamilton’s first World Championship in 2008 was with the McLaren-Mercedes team, it makes perfect sense that an SLR McLaren would be in this collection. According to Silverstone, it has 11,000 miles from new and a recent service.

1981 Triumph TR8 Convertible

Presale estimate: £35,000–£40,000 ($44,604–$50,976)

The TR8 took the unloved doorstop shape of the TR7 and gave it some serious power in the form of a Rover V-8. Although it didn’t save Triumph, it was a good sports car for the company to go out on. Pharoah Gold over tan and plaid, this TR8 has to be one of the world’s best, with a represented 124 miles from new. Given the crazy prices paid for other like-new in-the-wrapper cars in the past few years, we’re very curious to see how this TR8 does.

The post Lewis Hamilton’s dad is selling his exquisite and sporty 18-car collection appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Hagerty readers and Hagerty Drivers Club members share their cherished collector and enthusiast vehicles with us via our contact email, tips@hagerty.com. We’re showcasing some of our favorite stories among these submissions. To have your car featured, send complete photography and your story of ownership to the above email address.

Today’s featured car is a 1964 Triumph TR4. Thanks to their slim figure and 105-hp, 2138-cc inline four, these petite roadsters offer capable handling and brisk performance. These characteristics solidified their popularity in period and have earned them a passionate following in the collector car community. The 1964 model year falls midway in the car’s 1961–67 run and represents the last year that the TR4 had a solid rear axles instead of an independent rear suspension.

This particular TR4 belongs to John Nicon, who’s affectionately nicknamed it “The Black Beauty.” The car comes in a long line of Triumphs owned and beloved by the Nicon family: a TR3, a 1965 TR4 (“The Lady in Red”), a TR250 (“The Blue Babe”), and a 1962 TR4 (“The Lady in Red II”). The Black Beauty boasts a Surrey top (reminiscent of a targa top) and a stunning black finish—and, to top it off, functioning overdrive! Nicon especially values the camaraderie of the Triumph community. From car shows to pleasure drives and road trips, The Black Beauty “is a worthy competitor,” he writes.

His succession of Triumphs—punctuated by Honda station wagons, a Fiat 500e, and a Smart Car—goes to show that, as he writes: “while you may take the Triumph away from the man, you can’t take the man away from the Triumph.”

Swipe through the gallery below for evidence of Nicon’s Triumph love affair.

The post Rides from the Readers: 1964 Triumph TR4 appeared first on Hagerty Media.

The Triumph smelled funny. Like old oil, but also dirt covered in old oil, plus a strange and familiar funk. Maybe you know the scent: equal parts grandma-basement and used tractor, with a faint hint of What Died in Here? Rusty old British sports cars used to smell like this by the time they ended up in junkyards, back when rusty old British sports cars tended to get sent to junkyards, instead of restoration shops.

And yet it wasn’t a sports car. It was a motorcycle. Even admitting that fact in these pages means we run the risk of you closing the window and going somewhere else. With bikes, most people are binary, a hard Yes or a harder No. Which is a shame, because if you’re at all into cars, the overlap is substantial—freedom, the tangible manifestation of history, the ability to do what you like when you like. Simple machines that let you either connect with or get away from other people. Valuable stuff, especially if you’re a mild misanthrope who spends half his time enjoying the company of other humans and the rest just wanting to be left alone with a garage or a book and a bottle of mezcal.

I bought the Triumph last month. Not my first bike, at the age of 39, but my first English one. Having long loved that country’s approach to the form, and how its classic efforts feel like loud, artsy bicycles. It helped that the one I found was a little scruffy and cheap.

The first thing I noticed when I met the Triumph in person was a cracked cylinder-head fin—a short break in the aluminum, maybe an inch long, under a broken weld that had once served as a repair. The weld bead wasn’t so much a bead as a valiant impression of the sort of thing that dribbles out of a five-year-old’s nose on a winter day. The cast fin underneath was thin enough that you could pluck it like a string. When I did that, the fin rang off, a flat, dead note where the others plucked on pitch.

Later, in the calm of my garage, the fin’s crack seemed like a friendly, life-steeped hello: Hi! I have seen more than you. I patted it for good luck, then flipped the ignition and gave the kickstart a boot.

The engine lit, first kick. A stable, smacky little idle. I laughed, a single, sharp ha!, both surprised and not.

Several hours prior, the seller, a friendly guy in his thirties, had started the Triumph for me in his driveway. One kick and it sprang to life, in the same way. The bike had been advertised on Facebook Marketplace, which is sort of like a Craigslist for people with more curiosity pooling in the midbrain. Unlike Craigslist, Facebook lets you list vehicles for free, so you see a lot of shaggy dreams that only need a fuel pump and they ran last Saturday and no of course that’s not rust my cousin took the picture that was just his finger on the iPhone lens why don’t you drive three hours to come see this Pontiac Fiero with a V-4 swap runs good needs fuel pump hey did I mention it needs a fuel pump I’d do it but I simply haven’t had time lately the wife wants it out of the house.

Optimism: Any machine on Facebook Marketplace could be genuinely good. What if the one you’re viewing… is?

Realism: List price on the bike in question was so low, I expected it to start first kick for the seller—they always do—then chuck a rod to Barbados the moment I got it home.

Still, the Triumph came with a stack of recent receipts, and a few number plates from AHRMA enduros. I took a chance and got lucky. The bike was healthy, only a few needs, a gift in itself. Like old cars, old motorcycles tend to fare better when they’re transcendent to ride, historically significant, or both. A 1973 Triumph TR5T Trophy Trail is neither. Even in ’73, there were better dirt bikes. Hell, there were even better Triumphs, most built years before. By the early 1970s, Triumph the motorcycle company was like Triumph the carmaker, but worse—strapped for cash, with an indifferent corporate parent, old in tech and tooling, watching the world leave it behind. The era’s bikes are often seen as unreliable and short-lived, but they’re more like contemporary British cars, mating hyper-short maintenance intervals to sound basics and a few spots of incomplete engineering. If you accept all that and don’t make unreasonable asks, the reward is fun in spades.

Even with a TR5T. In 1973, Triumph was owned by the British motorcycle and gun manufacturer BSA. The two-year-only, 30-hp, 1973–1974 TR5T married Triumph’s 500-cc parallel twin to a relatively small BSA motocross frame. The result was a happy little parts-bin special, a fun trail bike years outdated when new. It never sold well, but these days, who cares? In the modern world, you can’t look at the thing without getting the impression that it exists simply because some draftsman nipped down the pub midday, then came back a little fuzzy and began kitbashing parts in a back room. (“Nigel! This stuff fits!” “Ian, the company limit is four pints at lunch.”)

All of which brings us back to the appeal. I’m a sucker for imperfect answers, especially those that hint at pie-eyed logic. Motorcycles exist as a sort of direct line to how people think. Carmakers labor under a phone book’s worth of emissions and safety regulations, plus the demands of practicality and comfort. Motorcycles avoid much of that, which leaves bikemakers mostly free to build as their engineering ids see fit. With British bikes, that means you get a virtually unfiltered whiff of a romance-addled, literature-steeped country half the size of California. A small place that believes deeply in the restorative power of stagecraft and taking a moment for tea.

You can still buy that stuff new, after a fashion. In the 1960s and 1970s, when Japanese companies like Honda and Kawasaki entered (and promptly won) the durability and power wars, Triumph’s management was unable to meet the challenge. The firm found receivership in 1983, after almost a century in business, emerging significantly changed in a different location and under new ownership. The “new” Triumph lineup is now sturdy and compelling. Much of it owes a visual debt to the work of the brand’s midcentury chief engineer, Edward Turner.

One of Turner’s subordinates, the designer Bert Hopwood, later rose to be Triumph’s director and general manager. In 1981, he wrote a book that served as summary of his life’s work. The title alone—Whatever Happened to the British Motorcycle Industry?—is sighing inquiry, no hint at the arrogance of his bosses, which he tirelessly fought. (At one point, years before the old Triumph face-planted, Hopwood listened to a superior tell him how the Japanese would help Triumph stay strong. Japan, then known for small, reliable bikes, would handle the small stuff, the superior said, “and when buyers move up to larger machines, we’ll be there.” Naturally, the Japanese just designed better big bikes.)

How dangerous, the assumption that things will continue simply because they always have. You see similar thinking in any number of revolutions, or in anyone challenging complacency with a better idea—the Japanese bikemakers that toppled the British, but also Apple Computer and the iPhone, or Honda and Toyota kneecapping Detroit in the late 20^th century. Grand change is never easy, and hindsight almost always brings clarity.

Perhaps these situations felt different, in the moment, on the losing side, less inescapable. You have to wonder.

This might be why I like the Triumph so much. In addition to the simpler charms, it serves as a reminder that we’re all blind to something.

Our house is a short ride from a national forest, and the Triumph seems a good fit for camping. It helps that I’m not exactly the world’s greatest rider; a tame, leaky little historic-footnote of a bike seems about right for fire roads and brapping around, no more than a day’s tow from home, a small tent strapped to the seat.

It is entirely reasonable to assume that I’ll get stranded somewhere because some small part let go. Any number of modern bikes would be more sensible and cheaper. There are at least a dozen Japanese motorcycles—some of which I’ve actually owned—that would ask a tenth as much in terms of wrenching.

But then I wouldn’t be out in the garage on hazy summer evenings, poking at the bike and waking it up, thinking about mistakes, and tea, and the freedom to do as you please. Even if that last bit just means knocking around in the woods close to home, with two wheels, a small pair of English pistons, a cracked cooling fin, and all the tools you can fit in a backpack. With a little luck, they might even be the tools you need.

The post Smithology: On the trail of a 1973 Triumph appeared first on Hagerty Media.

You don’t have to be MI6 to appreciate a good looking motorcycle. Maybe that’s why Triumph’s Bond Edition Scrambler 1200 is such an eye catcher. With a dark aesthetic and still decidedly British, this motorcycle seems perfect for a Bond-like escape from the office parking garage on a Friday.

The dark and mysterious Scrambler is inspired by the machine used in the filming of the latest Bond flick, No Time To Die. The updates are mainly cosmetic, featuring pressed 007 logos on an exhaust heat shield and lower side panel, along with a leather seat and custom paint scheme. The lack of performance upgrades (besides the Arrow slip-on exhaust) isn’t as bothersome, since the Scrambler 1200 XE used as the base is a competent machine. It packs a parallel-twin 1200-cc engine that pumps out 89 horsepower, but more importantly is hung from suspension that isn’t scared of a pothole–or mud hole.

These special edition Scramblers probably won’t be seeing any off-road use though, as only 500 are being produced, with just 30 of those are headed stateside. Each is numbered and documented like any good special edition should be. Triumph says it received many requests for the special edition following early on-set photos and video of the specially-prepped Scrambler and Tiger models. That might explain why the $18,500 price tag has not prevented these special editions from finding buyers.

It’s a sweet bike, but since I have no chance of buying one I’ll just paint whatever motorcycle I can afford from Craigslist and ride down the stairs to exit the parking garage this week. The dented exhaust and other associated road rash from my inevitable fall will likely match up closer to how any of the Triumphs looked in the movie anyway—and I’ll feel like Bond. Someday I may be able to snag the real thing.

The post Play secret agent with this Triumph Scrambler 1200 James Bond Edition appeared first on Hagerty Media.

Motorcycling is a sensory rush you simply cannot get on four wheels. If you’re a brand-new motorcyclist, the ride is best learned and enjoyed aboard a small machine. For every heavy-hitter Vincent or Indian headlining an auction stage, there are a jillion unheralded 90–200cc bikes that can provide equal joy for an iota of the price.

Small motorcycles are naturally lightweight, so they’re easy to balance and ride. Their engines produce modest power, roughly 10–20 horsepower. They’re affordable—often less than $1000 and rarely more than $5000—and they tend to hold their value. And their diminutive stature permits easy garage storage alongside your car.

If you’ve been considering a switch to a classic two-wheeler, here are three of our favorite learner bikes to get you started.

Honda 90

Almost everything about Honda’s plentiful 89cc single is bliss. The little overhead-cam four-stroke is easy to kick-start, stingy on gas, untemperamental, and of high quality. At roughly 200 pounds, the bike also handles well, shifts and brakes smoothly, and typically boasts an oil-tight engine and reliable electrics. But with only eight horsepower, it’s hardly quick: 60 mph would be all she wrote on a good day, so it’s incompatible with fast traffic.

For mastering riding skills inexpensively, however, few bikes compare. There are several variations from which to choose, too, including the S90 street bike; the CL90 street scrambler; the CT90 (Trail 90) with its step-through frame, available dual-range gearbox, and rack; the racy 1969 SL90 (Motosport 90); and the minibike-inspired ST90.

Hodaka Ace 90

With its signature chromed tank and red frame, the Hodaka, designed in Oregon by the Pacific Basin Trading Company, was the street-and-trail bike that teens desired in the late 1960s. Powered by a simple 8-hp, 90cc two-stroke engine and weighing less than 190 pounds, the beautifully styled Hodaka was the gold standard for aesthetics and energy in its time.

For all its intrinsic beauty and trail readiness out of the crate, the Japanese-built Hodaka had a frail engine and gearbox. Still, it remains iconic: As the decades passed, no motorcycle better utilized Hodaka’s striking livery. Models succeeding the Ace 90 trail bike were fancifully named, including the Dirt Squirt, Super Rat, and Wombat.

Triumph Cub

The 199cc, single-cylinder T20 Cub was baby brother to the twin-cylinder 498cc and 649cc Triumphs. Available in street and trail guises, the British-built Cub was developed into serious competition machinery in its day. However, it was also English and suffered various engineering and electrical gremlins. Instantly recognizable by its forward-inclined overhead-valve engine, a good Cub is a friendly ride. It is reasonably easy to start and notably lightweight, and it offers perky performance from its 15 horses. Even better, the Cub’s simplicity is an asset to fledgling mechanics, with the spark plug, ignition points, lighting, carburetion, and tappets all easily accessible. Cubs have long been overshadowed by larger Triumphs, so they can be good buys.

Now that you have three reasonably inexpensive and easy-to-handle motorcycle ideas, get out there and ride, especially if you’re a novice who’s looking to gain skill and confidence.

The post 3 lightweight learners for first-time motorcyclists appeared first on Hagerty Media.