british

If it’s good enough for the Queen…

….then surely it can come sit in my barn?

After having a (comparatively) massive clearout over the last few months, I found this gem waiting for me a few weeks ago. It’s a 1965 Rover P5 3 litre coupe, and it’s now mine. The P5 was a strange car, being technically both backward and amazingly forward-looking at the same time. If you look past the leaf springs and ancient 6cyl engine, you find the first seeds of things that eventually  made up the P6.. driver safety was just becoming a factor and the whole concept of easily-replaceable panels is sort-of there.

OK, perhaps the title is slightly misleading – the Queen had a P5B sedan, but it’s not that different. The P5 coupe is only a coupe in the “streamlined and slightly chopped down” sense of the word; it’s still got four doors and it’ll still seat four cigar-smoking adults in very British comfort.

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This photo doesn’t really do justice to the sheer size of this thing. The P6 looks quite svelte in comparison; the P5 is built like a tank and is – coincidentally – also rather like driving one. For a ’60s British car, it’s positively massive. It doesn’t quite dwarf the Jaguar 420 that’s currently sitting next to it, but it’s much bulkier.

This particular car has lived in the sunny NW most of its life, and it’s been off the road for about eight years.. which is (almost) nothing. However, the fancy dual fuel pump has seized and it looks like it’s been resprayed as part of a playgroup of three year olds’ summer project.

However… some day soon……!

By tedlit, ago

What happens in the barn… stays in the barn

There’s a lot of talk about the mystery of the “barn find”. People imagine million-dollar Rolls-Royces and Bentleys sitting in barns up and down the country, just waiting to be discovered. They imagine a quick wash and instant fame and fortune at the nearest fancy car auction. The reality is much different…

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This is a 1986 Jaguar XJ6. It sat in a barn in sunny Oregon for roughly 20 years. As you can see, it’s covered in several stages of green mould and spiders, and all the tyres are flat. One would also not be surprised to find the interior full of mice/rats/cats/sharks, trees growing on the floor, and suspicious holes in the carpets/seats/headliner. Additionally, as this is a British car we’re talking about, one would also expect the woodwork to have the consistency of Swiss cheese.

So, to prove a point, I unloaded it and washed it. This is what emerged:

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This is the same 1986 Jaguar XJ6. The paintwork is shiny and dent-free, the body is rust-free, and the chromework is excellent. The interior is in great condition, with no rips or tears on the seats – and the woodwork is pristine.

The secret?

Air.

Yes, really. Storing a car under covers – and perhaps full of newspaper – is an excellent recipe for a rusty, mouldy, rotten disaster. Despite this car being utterly filthy externally, the fact that it was stored in a dry, well-ventilated barn completely saved the car. Aside from the flat tyres (which were, obviously, British), you’d never know it had been stored at all.

By tedlit, ago

What Rover did that wasn’t 4×4

This is a Rover P6. It’s mine, and it had a new exhaust fitted last week.

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Things we learned from this experience:

  • People at exhaust shops get confused if your brakes are attached to your differential.
  • People at exhaust shops get worried if your front shocks are mounted horizontally.
  • People at exhaust places will retrieve wrenches that have been hidden in your bodywork for FIFTEEN YEARS and merely smirk at you.
  • Contrary to popular belief, a 47 year old British exhaust manifold can, in fact, be porous.
  • Yes, a top speed of 77 is more than adequate.
  • Everyone will keep asking if it’s “some old Buick”.

    I love the Rover P6.

    • By tedlit, ago

    …and the Rover is no more.

    The SD1 started its journey to its new owner in Georgia this morning. It’s been an interesting ride with this car – over the last three years I’ve learned more about Lucas EFI than I ever thought possible, as well as grown to appreciate just what Rover were trying to do with SD1. It’s a huge shame they were initially dogged with so many issues here in the US, as the straight-six versions doubtless would’ve sold very well into the 1980s.

    Much has been written about the SD1 in the USA, and why it failed. Rover was a one-model range at the time, and – in Europe – completed a gap in Triumph’s lineup after the withdrawal of the 2000/2500. Had the planned Lynx ever actually been produced, it and the SD1 would’ve made a rather nice range.. together with the “new” Triumph 1500. Even the Rover 213/216 would’ve probably sold well over here, as is evidenced by the visibility today of their Honda brethren.

    It was my daily driver for a while, and – as well as proving it’s possibly to run a thirty year old British car on a daily commute – it still managed to average nearly 30mpg. It’s been to a few shows, confused a lot of people (‘what kind of Chevy/Pontiac/Ferrari is that?’), and been surprisingly reliable. It only broke down on me once, which was a) in the driveway so it doesn’t really count, and b) is because I ran out of fuel ‘cuz the fuel sender didn’t initially work. The kids also loved the fact that it was a little bit special and – for a British car – pretty big and comfy inside. It even did the school run a few times, during which there were occasional complaints about its fundamental brown-ness.

    …but on it must go. It’s going to someone who knows exactly what it is, and will hopefully appreciate it as much as I do. It’s been replaced in the “fleet” here by a Rover P6, which is a whole different animal… but more on that another time.

    By tedlit, ago

    Just a big blob of rust…?

    The P6 has always sounded a bit exhaust-y. I initially put that down to a small hole in the ancient rear silencer, but further complaining and investigation led to the conclusion that there was also a leak near the manifold. Normally, this means a holed gasket.. or a broken stud in some join somewhere.. either way, not the worst job in the world but certainly one of the more annoying.

    However, after an afternoon of removing 16 of the finest rusted-up 1/2″ British bolts, I found this:

    I think it’s supposed to be an exhaust manifold. It has the consistency of Swiss cheese, and there are four or five good bulges in it. I didn’t realise cast iron could do that, but apparently – if made in Birmingham – it can.

    By tedlit, ago

    The art of clearcoat

    Some time in the late 1970s / early 1980s, there was a revolution in the shadowy world of automotive paintwork. Metallic paints were all of a sudden in vogue in Europe, and everyone needed the latest and greatest metallic brown and orange finishes on their cars (cf. the 1981 Triumph TR7 colour book). Unfortunately, British Leyland et all soon figured out that metallic paint looks terrible when sprayed by robots built in Birmingham, so the industry investigated ways around this.

    What the paint people collectively came up with was “clearcoat” – essentially, a veneer that is added after the colour coat to protect, give gloss, and cover up mistakes. This was not a new idea, but it was rather expensive to implement. This meant two things – one, it only initially appeared on high-end Japanese and European cars.. and two, when it made it to mass-market British (and yes, Jap) vehicles, cost-cutting meant the benefits of the fancy new process were, uh, diluted somewhat.

    Fast forward to 2013; it’s now fairly rare to see an ’80s Accord or old Nissan without the characteristic flaky roof or bonnet.. and while this is obviously a far worse phenomenon in hotter climates, practically every Civic in Canada suffered the same fate.

    However, quality control fixed most of the problems over time, and by the 1990s automotive paint processes were much improved………..

    ….except in Birmingham:

    This is a 1994 Land Rover Discovery. It’s spent its entire life in the Pacific Northwest – where there is no sun – and the bonnet and roof are a spectacular mess of flaking clearcoat and faded colour coat. I kinda feel sorry for it – it’s not like the Discovery doesn’t have enough other problems. It’s the opposite of a ghost flame job in a certain light.. whereas in actual daylight it just looks terrible.

    By tedlit, ago

    Ugliest headlights ever.. entry #22

    This is a(nother) 1980 Rover SD1 3500. For some reason, I keep ending up with them.. this is my third.

    Don't my headlights look fantastic?

     

    This one lived in Salem before I got my grubby mitts on it, and spent a while sitting in a field. Unlike the other SD1 I had a couple of years ago, this one is a NAS model and is totally stock.. hence the slightly cross-eyed front end and the correct wheels. It’s also been oddly resprayed in its original colour of Platinum (oh really, British Leyland?), but fortunately still has the original awesome two-tone brown velour interior.

    It had the usual electrical gremlins, which required a bunch of relays, a Jaguar XJ6 fuel pump, and lots of swearing. It now drives and stops when it’s supposed to, and doesn’t seem over-inclined to catching fire.  So far, it’s only moved around the driveway and back, but as it’s got a bizarre custom exhaust system it sounds a bit.. well.. frisky.

    It also doesn’t seem to overheat. For now.

    Look at that velour porn.

     

    By admin, ago

    Hair today, gone tomorrow

    This is another one of those cars I just accidentally bought one day. It happens annoyingly frequently to me, and most people just won’t believe it’s possible to purchase a car by accident. I can assure you it is, as the state of my driveway currently will testify.

    I’d heard about this particular car third-hand, but was put-off specifically by all the issues I’d had with another Jaguar in the recent past.. that and the guy selling it was something of a character, but you take that as normal now.

    Anyway, it’s a 1998 Jaguar XJ-S v12:

    Reddest thing ever?

    It’s got 70-something k on it and about two years ago it had a full pro respray in OEM Grenadier Red. The seller claimed it had taken a full week of wet sanding and re-cutting to get it looking this good.. and boy, does it look good. The paint is absolutely flawless, and it’s a red that’s just different enough to be interesting.

    Unfortunately, spending several grand on a paint job means you can’t afford to fix any of the car’s actual problems. The seats are a bit worn, the dash wood has seen better days, one of the rockers has a minor oil leak, and it’s got no headliner. Yes, really.. the headliner is gone, leaving you looking up at the shiny fibreglass backing pad that’s supposed to have foam and over-ostentatious cloth trim affixed to it.

    Mechanically, it’s a mixed bag too. The car was actually taken off the road because of a severe brake fluid leak (which is as good a reason as any), which turned out to be a bodged back brake union. Jaguars with inboard brakes are notoriously difficult to work on, and hacks such as this are all too common.. especially when Jaguar want $90 for a four-inch piece of brake pipe. Also, I suppose the complete absence of any rubber in the transmission mount did go some way to explain the annoying clonking every time you drive over anything resembling a bump.

    On the other hand, all of these little niggles have now been fixed, and it ventured gingerly out onto the road for the first time yesterday. I love XJ-S’s, especially the late 80s ones – partly because they’re downright sexy and a blast to drive, but mostly because they’re one of the few cars that actually look fast when they’re sitting still.

    Oh, what to do.. what to do.

    By tedlit, ago

    Cars I miss, but shouldn’t – #1

    Things I miss, but shouldn’t – #1. The 1993 Rover Vitesse.

    I bought this little wonder in 2004 as a stop-gap measure whilst commuting weekly to Oxford and waiting for the Primera to get fixed. It cost me a hundred and eighty quid, and came with a years’ MoT. Of course, I’d find out later that there’s no way it should’ve ever passed, but it had the enormous benefit of being big, comfy, able to hold a week’s worth of my crap, and – most importantly – working air conditioning. It also had an oh-so-manly boot spoiler, but we won’t talk about that.

    This particular one was a 2-litre turbo that hadn’t really been mucked about with, but was shovelling out around 230bhp. Not a lot by most modern performance car standards, but if you could tolerate the gearbox whine it’d do 140mph without complaining. Supposedly.

    It was one of the last things we sold before moving to the US in 2006, and I actually made twenty quid back on it in the process. I put 20k on it in that time, and it is sorely missed, at least partly because it left many any M3 owner open-mouthed at having been overtaken by something as common and rubbish as a Rover.

    I’d love to have one again – but sadly the Sterling is about as close as I’m going to get, seeing as US sales stopped in 1991 – right as the mk2 was introduced. On the other hand, free imports start at 21 years old.. so only another two years to go. Will there be any left that haven’t rusted away by then?

    Seems unlikely.

    By tedlit, ago

    When it’s 90F outside…

    Remember that Stag from a few posts down, and a few weeks ago? Well, this is what it looks like now:

    OK, so that’s not exactly a great deal different… but under that California-faded paint is a good paint job struggling to get through. It also belies the amount of work that’s gone on under the hood – and under the car, as it happens.

    This one is right hand drive (as is given away by the steering wheel being on the correct side and the British license plate, duh) and has a Rover v8 conversion. The engine conversion is actually pretty good – it’s still got the Triumph 4-speed o/d box mounted – but the ancilliaries could’ve been done better by a five year old. All fixed now.. well, as best as I can fix it, anyway.. and aside from spongy brakes and no choke cable it’s almost ready to hit the road again.

    By tedlit, ago