Classic British Sports Cars Archives - Page 2 of 3

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!

Bristol 401

The Bristol 401 showed off the Aerodyne body shell. It was the work of Italian design house Touring. As its name suggested, aerodynamics were the name of the game. The 401’s Aerodyne lines – and ‘teardrop’ tail – flowed through air with minimal resistance. Indeed – years after its production run ended – there were few cars that could match the 401’s aerodynamic package. Aptly, then, the car was developed at an airport. Specifically, along the two-mile stretch of the Filton runway – in Bristol, England. Tests measured it travelling at a tad shy of 100mph – powered by a two-litre, 85bhp engine. Not much to play with, given that the 401 was a four-seater saloon car – with plenty of interior trim. Clearly, aerodynamics were playing a pivotal part in that 100mph top speed stat. Saying that, it was no ordinary motor it was using. Bristol had ‘borrowed’ the engine from BMW – as part of Germany’s First World War reparations. As far as the 401’s ‘slipperiness’ went, low wind noise – and 25mpg fuel economy – were more than welcome by-products.

With regard to the 401’s shape, the same degree of rarefied design found its way into other aspects of the car, too. The body panels, for example, were graded for thickness – according to function. Thus, those that made up the wings were more meaty. Mechanics liked that – it was something solid for them to lean against! The 401’s four-speed gearbox was all slick engineering. Its steering-wheel, too, was exquisitely crafted. Complete with its ‘banana’ spoke, it mimicked the one found in Bristol aircraft, of the time.

The 401, then, was a gift to design students – many of them born years after the end of its run. Bristol’s stylists and coachbuilders were a rare breed indeed. If you had used the phrase ‘built-in obsolescence’ to them, they would have been seriously confused. Not because they were stupid – but, because it simply would not have occurred to them to think in that way!

Marcos GT

More than most manufacturers, Marcos encapsulated English eccentricity. That was amply demonstrated by a succession of GT cars. ‘Marcos’ was an amalgam of the names of the two founders – Jem Marsh and Frank Costin. The new firm’s first product was a sports car – built mainly from wood. The race version was a stellar success. Jackie Stewart launched his career in one. Which possibly points to where Stewart first got a taste for ‘health and safety’ within the sport! From that ornate creation emerged the classic Marcos sports car. It was to see several shape shifts over the years. The formative lines were drawn by Dennis and Peter Adams. Unveiled in ’64, the Marcos wowed London’s Earls Court Racing Car Show. This time, the bodywork was fashioned from glass fibre – cutting edge, then, in every sense. Its chassis, though, still stood by wood. Suspension-wise, that first Marcos was fitted with Triumph wishbones at the front – and de Dion and Triumph arms at the rear. A Ford live-axle set-up followed in due course. Over time, Ford, Volvo and Triumph engines would be installed. So, it was already apparent that Marcos did not do predictable!

Marcos and motor racing go way back. In ’66, a ‘Mini-Marcos’ hybrid was the sole British entry to complete that year’s Le Mans 24-hour race. Equipped with its Mini motor, the Marcos car was cheap to campaign. Incredibly, one could still be sourced new right up to ’94. Two of Marcos’ Le Mans cars were aptly code-named the LM500 and LM600. Launched in ’94, they marked Marcos’ return to the famous French circuit.

The Seventies got off to a good start for Marcos. The mythical Mantis was released. As the decade wore on, though, the firm was much less visible. Indeed, it fell to Jem Marsh to keep the servicing and parts departments open. ’81, though, saw a Marcos resurgence. Power was supplied by Ford. With not a lot happening on the sports car scene at the time, Marcos’ revival was a shot in the arm not just for the marque, but the industry. 1983’s Marcos Mantula – powered by a Rover V8 – was a hit in the showrooms. Yet more plaudits followed two years later – with the arrival of the Spyder. Marcos moved into the ’90s with the Mantara – which saw a styling revamp. The Adams brothers’ original curves were still there – but suitably updated. ’97 saw a new model Mantis. Thanks to its Ford V8 engine, the Mantis GT thundered around race-tracks at more than 170mph. While Marcos were definitely ‘different’, those in the know have never taken the marque less than seriously. Certainly, many an eyebrow has been raised by a Marcos GT car over the years. Though one cannot help but suspect that was always part of the Marsh/Costin game-plan!

Austin A90 Atlantic

If ever there was a car which straddled a divide, it was the Austin A90 Atlantic. The clue was in the name! Both Austin and Pontiac emblems adorned the A90’s bonnet/hood. Another clue! Built in Longbridge, England, it was one of the cars which blazed a trail out of the post-Second World War slump. The Atlantic was the first British car built primarily for the American market. In hindsight, its trans-oceanic mission was doomed from the outset. Stateside, they were used to 6- and 8-cylinder engines. So, the A90’s 4-pot tally simply did not cut the mustard. The writing was on the wall when an Atlantic broke 63 stock-car records, at Indianapolis – in a week. Sales still did not pick up! Sadly, this was a case in which the American Dream just was not going to come true!

As the Atlantic’s foray into stock-car racing had proved, it was not lacking on the performance front. Indeed, the A90 was one of few post-war cars capable of 90mph. It was practical, too. When the A90 was launched – in ’48 – petrol was still being rationed. So, the Atlantic’s frugal fuel consumption – 25mpg – was a valuable commodity. Its in-line four motor made 88bhp. Hence, the car’s code-name – when rounded up to 90. Peak power kicked in at 4,000rpm. Top torque – 140lb/ft – arrived at 2,500rpm. Four speeds could be selected on the American-style steering-column gearshift.

7,981 Atlantics were built. Of those, a mere 350 made it to America. The A90 had taken the ’48 Earls Court Motor Show by storm. Austin must have been sure they had backed a winner. Especially, since the convertible model came with all mod cons. As well as the power-hood and -windows, the A90 boasted an Ecko radio, adjustable steering-wheel and heater. As early as ’51, though, it was the end of the road for the convertible. The saloon followed suit in ’52. And that was it for the Atlantic. For all of the ‘special relationship’, there are some things the UK and US do differently. The Austin A90 Atlantic was, in many ways, an admirable British automobile. But – to crack the States – four cylinders were just never going to be enough!

Sunbeam Tiger

The Sunbeam Tiger was an Anglo-American hybrid. Built in West Bromwich, England, its roots were in Detroit, Michigan. Aptly, then, Rootes was Sunbeam’s parent company! At least, until Chrysler took it over. In essence, the Sunbeam Tiger was a Sunbeam Alpine – but with a Ford V8 fitted. Carroll Shelby – he of AC Cobra fame – did early development work on the Tiger. Shelby then passed it to Rootes. The car’s 4.2-litre engine was hooked up to a ‘top loader’ 4-speed gearbox. In turn, a more substantial final drive was installed. The body shell, too, was beefed up. But – with so much on its plate – Rootes was over-stretched. It still had the Sunbeam Alpine in production, too. Riding to Rootes’ rescue came Jensen. Their premises were but a stone’s throw away from Rootes’ factory gates. It fell to Jensen to finish the Tiger project.

Power output for the Tiger was 164bhp. Top speed stood at 117mph. 0-60 came up in 9.5s. Torque – from the Ford V8 – was plentiful, to say the least. Care, though, was required in transferring it to the tarmac. Both steering and suspension were suspect. But – all in all – the Tiger was good value for money. Americans bought it in their droves. British buyers did the same. However, they had to wait a year longer.

So, things were looking good for the Sunbeam Tiger. Until Chrysler’s buy-out of Rootes! Chrysler’s top brass took an immediate dislike to the car – mainly, on account of its V8 motor. It was, after all, made by Ford! Which would have been fine – had Chrysler had their own V8. Actually, they did. Unfortunately, it did not fit! Sadly, that was the writing on the Tiger’s wall. But, all was not lost! Rootes had already built 571 MkII Tigers – complete with 4.7-litre Mustang motors. The Sunbeam Tiger was set to stroll into a few more sunsets yet!

Lotus Europa

For all its power, the Lotus Europa was a sports car – not an F1 car! Yet – at least, up to a point – that was its raison d’être. Colin Chapman – head man at Lotus – wanted a roadster that handled like a racer. At any rate, he sought to simulate the mid-engined layout – now de rigueur in F1. Certainly, at just 42″ tall – and with a drag coefficient of only 0.29 – the Europa’s aerodynamic credentials were never in doubt.

The new car started out as the Lotus Europe. Trademark problems led to it being re-named the Europa. Handling-wise, the car was everything Chapman had hoped for. Road-test reviews were upbeat – at least as far as cornering was concerned. Steering was light – and the Europa perfectly poised. Key to the stability was rear suspension. It was comprised of lower wishbones and transverse top links. The Europa’s laid-back driving position made sweeping through bends a breeze. Brakes were suitably solid.

But, the Europa was not without flaws. Creature comforts were in short supply. And, with a heavy clutch – and jarring ride – the Europa was far from user-friendly. Side-window gremlins did not help. Rear vision – or lack of it – was not exactly a selling-point. To be fair, Lotus did address the issues. The Europa was given a mini-makeover. Built in Hethel, Norfolk, the car stayed in production until ’75. Almost 10,000 Europas were built – in a nine-year run. Its goal, then, was to bring F1-style handling to the roads of the UK. And – while that was, for a sports car, an impossible dream – it came as close to living it as any!

Ford Capri

The Ford Capri was European sibling to the mighty Mustang – a massive seller in the US. In essence, the Capri was a standard 4-seater GT. There would be many a variation on that theme, however … enough to give a spare-parts dealer palpitations! The Capri was manufactured in GB and West Germany. The first model came with the same 1.3-litre in-line four engine as the Ford Escort. In the UK, there were 1.6- and 2.0-litre V4 options. Add to that, a 3.0-litre V6. Germany weighed in with 1.7- and 2.3-litre versions. Stock-taking was already getting complicated. And that was before the cornucopia of trim options kicked in!

The entry-level Capri was the L. The XL was mid-range. At the top of the heap were the GT – and luxury GXL. Thankfully, the body shell was interchangeable. So were the struts – and beam rear axle. There were more parts choices, though, when it came to the 4-speed gearbox. Bigger engines had auto transmission as an option. All Capris had disc brakes up front – and drums at the rear. Rack-and-pinion steering, too, was standard – except for some of the 3.0-litre models, which were power-assisted.

Many a Capri was campaigned as a tin-top racer – often, with much success. They derived from a set of souped-up roadsters. The RS2600 Mk1, for example, was a German homologation special. It came with a fuel-injected 150bhp V6 … courtesy of top tuner Harry Weslake. In ’73, the British-built 3100 appeared – again, built for race homologation purposes. With its Weber carburettor – and over-bored V6 – it made 148bhp. These performance car Capris featured fat alloy wheels and quarter bumpers. The 3100 sported a duck-tail spoiler. Most sought-after of all, however, was the Capri 280 Brooklands LE. Ironically, it was one of the German-built cars! Nonetheless, with its swish leather seats – and British racing green paint – it was a fitting finale to the Ford Capri story. And – as for those overworked spares departments – it is just a shame databases were still in their infancy, at the time!