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.

What’s missing from this picture?

What’s missing from this picture?

If your answer was “John Cleese and a big stick”, have a biscuit – you’re right.

This was the only BMC-anything 1100 at the 2010 Portland All British Field Meet… and it’s immaculate and red.. and the wonderful staging opportunity of a six foot seven cardboard cutout of John Cleese and a big tree branch has been sadly missed!

Perhaps a little too optimistic?

There are project cars, and then there are project cars. I’ve never broken a car, but I’ve had plenty of bits off of other people’s parts cars. This little beauty above isn’t really either of those things, but it’s much more of a project than anything I’ve attempted before – except for the Stag, but that kind of goes without saying.

It’s a 1998 Jaguar XJ8. It’s got 130-something k miles on it, and it doesn’t run. It has one of the more fantastic Jaguar quirks – a gearbox that’s stuck in fourth. The previous owner sensibly didn’t drive it like that, which is a rarity in itself – but unfortunately, it sat for a while.. and thanks to the awesome Northwest weather, the fuel tank got water in it. This means the entire fuel system got waterlogged, so it won’t even start now. Not that you could go anywhere in it anyway.

Aside from this (admittedly fundamental) problem, there’s very little wrong with it. The roof paint is a bit faded, but it’s such a weird colour I don’t think that’s an issue. It’s one of the first “pearl” paint finishes – Anthracite Pearl – which is really just “grey metallic”, but we’ll leave that one for now.

Anyone who knows Jaguars would know that 1998 was the first year for the v8 in the XJ – and the 1998-99 years also suffer from having Nikasil cylinder liners. I’m going on the principle that it’s survived twelve years without a problem, so this is likely not a bad one. That, and it’s not supercharged – which tends to finish the liners off sooner rather than later.

Onwards and upwards, eh.

What’s for tea, Mother? Shadows and lies?

I finally did it. I bought a (non-fun) Range Rover.

After years of laughing at them, this one was just too good to turn down. I couldn’t help myself. Obviously, by “good” I mean “cheap”. Failed air suspension, pulling to the left, saggy headliner, no climate control, broken exhaust, busted radio, burnt-out fusebox, light guards wood-screwed direct to the tailgate.. it’s got the lot.

It’s a 1995, and is build number 0000000000000076. I wouldn’t call myself an “early adopter”, but that number seems pretty low.  Hopefully the rest of it will stay working long enough to fix all the stuff that’s broken!

The world of Right Hand Drive

See how flat that back tyre is? This car last moved in 2002.

This is a 1970 Triumph Stag. It was owned by a stupid person in the Bay Area. It’s now sitting in my driveway, close enough to be mine but far enough away that it won’t start (another) fire when I start it.

It’s got a Rover v8 mated to the original 4-speed o/d box, and has a hole in the gas tank big enough to put your arm through. It also uses more oil than fuel, but it’s right hand drive, yellow, and mine.

Also, notice how the doors don’t fit right? They’re original – as proved by the reams of photos and receipts that came with it – but they are composed almost entirely of rust and filler. That’s OK, because the car came with four new doors (yes, it’s a two door with six doors), but I have one honeysuckle door, one french blue door, one mallard blue door, and one green door now. Aren’t I lucky?