British Sports Cars Archives - Page 2 of 4

Riley RM

By the time the RM series was launched – in ’45 – Riley’s glory days seemed gone. Dating back to 1898, the firm had produced a steady stream of successful saloon and sports cars, throughout the ’20s and most of the ’30s. At race circuits, too, Rileys met with much success. Sales had been consistently impressive. By the late Thirties, though, financial fissures were forming. As a result, ’38 saw Nuffield take over the Riley reins. It worked. Before long, there was a resurgence of interest from investors. And, the post-war launch of the RM series saw Riley right back on track.

The RMA and RMB models were stylish saloons. Timber frames were wrapped in swooping steel bodywork. Topping it all off was a woven removable roof. Both A and B were fitted with Riley’s high-cam inline-four engine. The A was good for 75mph. The B took that out to 95mph. Riley’s motor had the longest stroke of any post-war British production car. As you would expect, then, torque came by the barrelful. Again, both A and B featured torsion-bar independent front suspension. So, good handling was also a given.

The most glamorous member of the RM club was the C. Since it was a tilt at the American market, it came with column gear-change. Well, it was only polite! Other notable updates were a fold-flat screen and lower bonnet-line. The RMC was pure roadster – to wit, an open 3-seater, with cutaway doors. In due course, the RMD appeared – as a 4-seater drop-head. It reverted to a more traditional body than the C. Completing the series were the RME and RMF. Improvements included hydraulic brakes, a hypoid back-axle and larger rear windows. In ’54, Riley revisited the E version. It received the honour of the final RM makeover. Its running boards were removed – and headlight pods streamlined. A set of rear wheel spats was grafted on. By this point, though, Riley were clutching at straws, commercially. Revered as it had been, the brand-name was now in decline. There would be one final throw of the Riley dice – in the form of the Pathfinder. But – according to critics – its four-cylinder motor was about all it had going for it. Back in the day, however, Riley combined British panache with sporting prowess. The RM series had made that abundantly clear!

DeLorean DMC-12

On the design board at least, the DeLorean DMC-12 ticked all the right boxes. Namely, a V6 motor by Peugeot/Renault, a chassis by Lotus and bodywork design by Giugiaro. For a roadster, it does not get much better than that. To say the least, it was a highly desirable blend of styling and functionality. But, of course, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. And – in the case of the DMC-12 – the automotive ingredients simply did not mix. In terms of weight distribution, it did not help that the DMC was rear-engined. For all of its expertise, Lotus struggled to optimise handling. And, if they could not do it, no one could. In a straight line, however, things were spot-on. A top speed of 130mph testified to that. Another suspect part of the DMC package was its ‘gull-wing’ doors. Sure, they looked great. But, for $25,000, you expected them to be watertight … whatever the weather! Deficiencies, though, in DMC’s door department meant that was not always the way. Plus – from an emergency services point of view – prising gull-wing doors apart could be a problem. It was not long, then, before the first cracks in the DeLorean plans appeared.

It had all started so swimmingly. John Z DeLorean was something of a whizz-kid, during his time at GM. He conceived the DMC-12 as a player in the realm of upmarket supercars. To make that happen, he would need to source serious funding. The UK looked like his best bet. He was strongly encouraged to start up in Northern Ireland – by the British government, no less. The region badly needed a boost. DeLorean seemed like the ideal man. There was no stinting on incentives. Grants and loans totalled £80m – in early ’80s money.

DeLorean’s dream lasted just two years. In 1980, the sky was the limit. By ’82, things had crashed back to earth. Improprieties were alleged. Indeed, DeLorean was arrested – on drug trafficking charges. Though he was subsequently cleared, it was not the best by way of PR! The whole sorry episode was the stuff of history – political, as well as automotive. BBC Nine O’Clock News sagas did not get any more gripping! John DeLorean had certainly made his mark on the world. As for his car, it had fallen short of expectations – dismally short. In different circumstances, though, the DeLorean DMC-12 could now be considered a classic supercar … of the sort its creator so desperately craved!

Ford Sierra Cosworth

The Ford Sierra Cosworth was a performance car for the people. For a start, it was a snip at just £16,000. For that, you got supercar speed and stability – plus, practicality. Ford passed their Sierra shell to tuners Cosworth – based in Northampton, England. And the ‘Cossie’ was born! Cosworth installed a two-litre twin overhead-camshaft turbo engine. The production car was an ‘homologation special’ – a certain number needing to be built to allow it to compete in races and rallies. So, such cars are limited-edition by their very nature. Ford’s Special Vehicle Engineering department was asked to come up with a competitive Group A car. There were several key components on the SVE’s spec-list. Toward the top were a close-ratio 5-speed gearbox, a limited-slip diff and power steering. As well as ABS, anti-roll bars and firmed-up suspension. 4-piston disc brakes were attached to wide alloy wheels.

The Cosworth’s body was modified Ford Sierra. Updates included widened wheel arches – and a ‘whale-tail’ rear spoiler. While the latter increased downforce, it compromised aerodynamics. And was not ideal in cross-winds! Still, if you bought a Cossie to make a statement – and you probably did – the rear aerofoil was spot-on. ‘Spirited’ drivers praised planted handling – along with fearsome acceleration. Top speed was 149mph.

Of course, the Cossie was a magnet for thieves and joy-riders. Insurance costs sky-rocketed. In time, the tearaways moved on to pastures new. Once rid of its hooligan rep’, the Cosworth transitioned into performance car respectability. The Sierra Sapphire and 1990’s 4×4 version duly followed. A further 16bhp would be coaxed out of the Cossie’s 16-valve cylinder-head. In racing, rallying and roadster modes, then, the Ford Sierra Cosworth delivered the goods. Though not literally, of course!

TVR Griffith

The seaside town of Blackpool, England, is famous for its Illuminations. Similarly, TVR – the sports car manufacturer, based in the resort – lit up the motoring world. It did so, not with a dazzling display of neon lights – but with the gorgeous Griffith. The new TVR heralded a return to raw V8 power. The TVR brand itself did not need rejuvenating – but the Nineties sports car market did. The Griffith played a pivotal part in that. In five-litre form, the Griffith 500 produced 345bhp. That gave a top speed of 163mph. 0-60 arrived in a tad over 4s. Such fierce acceleration reflected plenty of mid-range poke – as well as gargantuan low-down grunt. The Griffith was inspired by the TVR Tuscan – a pure-bred, blood-and-guts racer. The latter had first appeared in the late Eighties. The iconic TVR Tuscans tore strips out of each other, in a one-make race series. Even TVR chairman Peter Wheeler dived headlong into the high-speed fray. He battled it out with the best of them, in his own racing Tuscan. A fresh take on the company car, as it were!

Design-wise, the Griffith came with a full complement of curves and subtle touches. Most notably, the air ducts – on the bonnet and doors – were cutting edge cute. The interior, too, was impeccably styled. Copious amounts of leather and wood were inlaid with aluminium. Not surprisingly – with all its technical and aesthetic assets – the Griffith sold well.

With its RWD system maxed-out, the Griffith’s exhaust note was ear-splitting. With hood down – and revs up – British sports car drivers had never had it so good. The Griffith prototype debuted at 1990’s Birmingham NEC Show. To say it wowed onlookers would be understatement. Automotive folklore has it that 350 deposits were stumped up that same day. Which translated to an order every eight minutes! The first production cars swanned into showrooms in ’92. The Griffith was designed, developed and built almost exclusively by TVR. Given its relatively small operating scale, that was an astonishing feat. TVR went one step further, though. At £24,802 new, it even managed to keep the Griffith competitively priced!

Caterham 21

The Caterham 21 debuted at the Birmingham Motor Show – in ’94. It marked 21 years of Caterham Seven production. Design niggles delayed the launch of the new car for two years. The 21’s enhanced equipment levels posed an engineering challenge to Caterham. Respected in the industry though it was, Caterham had not hitherto taken on a car of such complexity. The 21 prototype dazzled show-goers – clad, as it was, in silver-polished aluminium. The production car’s finish would be a little more prosaic – standard paint on glass-fibre. The aluminium job, however, could still be had as an extra. The prototype was fitted with a Vauxhall JPE engine. Production models had Rover K-series 1.6-litre motors. There was also a 21 with a VHP – Very High Performance – version of the MGF 1.8-litre mill.

When the 21 did hit the road, it was to great acclaim. Aerodynamics were especially well-sorted. A top speed of 131mph spoke to that. Chassis-wise, the 21 was similar to the 7. The new car thus inherited the impressive handling characteristics of its predecessor. An important way, though, in which the two cars differed, was in terms of practicality. The 7 – while amongst the most exhilarating four-wheelers ever built – was not exactly user-friendly. It was geared pretty much entirely toward the ‘pure driving experience’. The 21, though, came with much more in the ‘all mod cons’ column. So, as an all-round motoring package, it was streets ahead of the Seven.

Caterham passed the 21’s styling brief to Iain Robertson. He doubled up as a journalist. Robertson was inspired by the race-bred lines of the Lotus Eleven. The 21’s interior was equally well-crafted. Though the cockpit was narrow, wide sills kept it the right side of cramped. Visually, the vertical strip of switches was a deft touch. Caterham limited producton to 200 cars per year. That kept it from biting off more than it could chew. And, of course, there was always the Lotus legacy to consider. The Norfolk marque was the progenitor of the Caterham line. For sure, the 7 had done Lotus proud. The 21, then, upped the number of its talented offspring!

MGB

Among other cars, footballer George Best drove an MGB. A man synonymous with style – in both the Sixties and Seventies – he doubtless took the odd Miss World or two out for a spin in it. He would have needed to watch out, though, for his glamorous passengers. The MGB’s handling was no match for Best’s dynamic dribbling skills! Suspension and steering parts – as well as its live axle – were stock BMC items. In other words – manoeuvrability-wise – they were nothing to write home about. In a straight line, however, things MGB were much improved. Top speed was a creditable 106mph. With the top down, Best – and his busty companions – would certainly have felt the breeze blowing through their Vidal Sassoon-sorted locks. At one point, more than 50,000 MGBs per annum were passing through the Abingdon factory gates. Add another nought to that figure, and you have total sales for the MGB. More than half a million were shifted – between ’62 and ’80. Numbers like that make it one of the best-selling sports cars ever!

Safe to say, then, the MGB’s success was due mainly to its lithe good looks. Technically, it was no great shakes. Nonetheless, it was an improvement on its predecessor. The MGA’s hefty separate chassis had been ditched – hopefully, not literally – for a lighter unit-construction item. The MGB scored well, too, in terms of torque. There was a rip-roaring 110lb/ft of the stuff – and at just 3,000rpm.

It was in the design department, though, that the MGB shone. Its seductively low lines were drawn with stunning simplicity. The car was inherently aerodynamic. Were it not for its small-scale four-cylinder engine, it would have gone a whole lot quicker. For a sports car – even in the ’60s – 95bhp was no more than middling. That said – taken in the round – the MGB embodied the best of British motoring. Obviously, Georgie thought so – or, he would not have spent his hard-earned money on one. No doubt, Miss World agreed. End of the day – if it was good enough for the Belfast boy – it must have been the best!

Lotus Elan Sprint

The Elan was launched in ’62. Lotus – based at Hethel, in Norfolk, England – instantly joined the ranks of quality sports car manufacturers. Petite though it was, it packed plenty of muscle. Beneath its lightweight glass-fibre skin, both engine and chassis were rock-solid. Acceleration was searing, handling supple, the ride comfortable. In short, Lotus had hit the automotive jackpot!

The Elan’s power was produced by a twin-cam in-line four. The Ford motor made 105bhp. Top speed for the Elan was 115mph. It was fitted with a 4-speed ‘box – also sourced from Ford. That all sat within a taut and tidy Lotus chassis. The frame was steel backbone. Suspension featured coils and wishbones up front – with Chapman struts and lower wishbones at the rear. Triumph provided the steering rack. Steel wheels were centre-locking. All four were stopped by Girling disc brakes.

Lotus’ Elan Sprint arrived in ’71. As its name suggested, it took the standard Elan’s performance up a gear. Key to that was the Sprint’s big-valve cylinder head. It had been expertly fettled by Tony Rudd. He and his team upped the output by 25% – to 126bhp. The new motor was more oil-tight, too – and quieter. It was attached to a set of Weber carburettors. The Sprint marked a turning-point. From then on, Lotus began to move more up-market. In so doing, it slid ever further from its kit-car roots. The Elan remained in production for ten or so years. During that time, it helped turn Lotus into a serious player in the sports car business!

Caterham 7

The Caterham 7 began life as the Lotus 7. Colin Chapman – boss of the latter marque – claimed to have built the prototype in a weekend, in ’57. Lotus manufactured the Seven for fifteen years. It was marketed through Caterham Cars – run by Graham Nearns. In ’73, Lotus stopped making the 7. The rights for it passed to Caterham. They set about building a plastic-bodied Series 4 Seven. Encountering issues with the new material, however, Nearns and his team went back to the aluminium-bodied Series 3 model.

Caterham were committed to the ‘pure driving experience’. Key to that was light weight – always a top priority for Chapman, too. To that end, the 7’s nose cone and wings were glass-fibre. As said, the light aluminium body was already in situ. Beneath, sat a tubular steel chassis. The 7’s rear axles had been sourced from Ford and Morris – though Caterham would later install a De Dion-based set-up. Caterham kept faith with Lotus’ Twin Cam motor. The 126bhp engine was spot-on … until stocks ran out. Ford duly did the engine honours. Tuning options came in the form of GT, Sprint and Supersprint. Subsequently, more power was provided by a Cosworth BDA motor. And still more, by a Vauxhall 2.0-litre – producing 175bhp. From ’91 onwards, Caterhams came with Rover K-Series engines. There was a choice of 1.4 and 1.4 Supersport – or, 1.6 and 1.6 Supersport – units.

The top-of-the-range Seven was the JPE – Jonathan Palmer Evolution – version. Named after the F1 driver who helped develop it, the JPE encapsulated the Caterham creed. Technically a roadster, its race-spec 250bhp engine catapulted it to 150mph. It hit 60 in less than 3.5s. The JPE 7 could out-drag a Ferrari F40 – right up to 100mph. Which made it the fastest-accelerating car in the world, at the time. With no windscreen – and wings made from carbon-fibre – the JPE 7 had ‘track-tool’ written all over it. So, the Caterham 7 was – as Colin Chapman had ensured – a one-stop shop for automotive exhilaration!

Lotus Elite

The Lotus Elite is widely regarded as one of the most stylish cars the firm made. Primarily, that was down to Peter Kirwan Taylor. Though not a leading light in the automotive design field at the time, Lotus put their faith in him – and it was rewarded. Launched in ’59 – along with the Mini and Jaguar MKII – the Elite was produced for four years. In the course of that time, it became one of the iconic British sports cars. As always – with Colin Chapman at the helm – light weight was key. With that in mind, the Elite was the first car to be built on a glass-fibre monocoque chassis. That helped it reach a top speed of 130mph. Aerodynamic lines assisted. The Elite was agile, too. Few sports cars could hold a candle to it through corners!

Power was provided by an overhead-cam Coventry Climax motor. When kitted out with a single carburettor, it delivered 71bhp. A twin-carb set-up increased that to 83bhp. A 4-speed gearbox came courtesy of BMC. The SE version would be fitted with a close-ratio, 5-speed ZF gearbox. Power increased to 105bhp. The Elite was economical, though – as a result of its light weight. As impressive as the Elite’s straight-line speed, was its handling. The car was suspended by coil-spring dampers at the front – and Chapman struts (modified MacPherson struts) at the rear. Steering was by rack-and-pinion. The full complement of high-grade disc brakes came as standard. Of more questionable quality were the windows. While pleasing on the eye, their unique profile meant they were difficult to wind down fully. Not what you wanted, on a hot summer’s day!

Generally speaking, though, the Elite did its name justice. In styling terms, it was from the top drawer. The Elite’s dashboard, for example, echoed its chic low profile. Nevertheless, there were faults – other than the wind-down windows issue. The car’s monocoque – cutting edge, though it was – was prone to noisy vibration. Also, interior décor was somewhat sparse. All things considered, however, the Lotus Elite was a fine example of a top-flight British sports car!

Jaguar MKII

The Jaguar MKII was one of the great all-rounders. Pretty much anything you wanted from a car, it could do. So versatile was the ‘MKII Jag’ that both cops and robbers fell in love with it! That was understandable. The top-spec 3.8 version – with manual overdrive – was good for 125mph. And, with no speed limit on British roads at the time, you could make the most of that number – whichever side of the law you were on. Not that observing speed limits would have been top of the robbers’ list of priorities, of course! For all that, the MKII Jag was also the ideal commuter car – for the business class. As refined as you like when it wanted to be, the MKII would transport its well-heeled occupants with ease. The MKII Jaguar, then, was all things to all men. It was also affordably-priced.

It was not long before the movie studios came calling. The MKII played a cameo rôle in Performance – alongside James Fox and Mick Jagger. And starred in Get Carter – in which it was hard on the tail of Michael Caine. On TV, Inspector Morse would not be seen in anything else. Of course, such screen sashays did sales figures no harm at all. 83,980 MKIIs were built. At racetracks, too, the Jag played a leading part. In saloon car showdowns, it was highly competitive. Indeed, racing driver Graham Hill – as well as Lotus boss Colin Chapman – both owned MKIIs.

Certainly, the car was beautiful to behold. Designer William Lyons – or, Mr. Jaguar, as he was affectionately known – had seen to that. And that, really, was the reason for its popularity. Stock-broker or law-breaker – in a MKII, you looked like $1,000,000, either way! The car had Sir William’s styling stamped all over it. Inside, the leather seats, wooden dash and door cappings all displayed Lyons’ keen eye for design detail. As did the dial- and switch-encrusted facia. On the engineering front, the MKII used tried and tested Jaguar technology. Its straight-six 3.8-litre XK engine delivered 220bhp. For a while, that made the MKII the quickest saloon car around. Technically, it was released in ’59 – though it will always be synonymous with the ’60s. As was the Mini – that other Sixties automotive icon. Instantly recognisable, the MKII helped define its times. In other words, the Jaguar MKII was as cast-iron a classic as cars come!