Once bitten…

I’ve had six Triumph Stags now. I currently have three, and none of them are driveable. I haven’t driven one (legally) on the road since 2004. They are a nightmare from every single conceivable angle, and any sane person would run a mile from them.

However, last week I did this.

 

I don't really like wire wheels either.

This is a ’71 Stag. It’s supposed to be Carmine Red, but some genius has had it resprayed in a hideous pink/red metallic flip, and then sanded a bunch of it down where the paint guy took a tea break. It’s got its original drivetrain, the interior is fairly good, and the soft top hasn’t seen an erection since 1981.

Unfortunately, seeing as it’s got its original drivetrain, it doesn’t run right. It would barely cough and wheeze its way onto a trailer last month, and the previous “owner” had a bunch of head work done in order to fix a problem that’s nothing to do with the head. Fortunately, I no longer have to worry about burnt exhaust valves – instead, I have to deal with a blown water pump graphite seal, different height head gaskets, a badly-skimmed inlet manifold, and a front choke secured with zip ties.. and that’s before I get to any of the obstacles British Leyland or Lucas put in the way of being the world’s best car.

Clarkson has a point. The Triumph v8 is a total dog of an engine. Sure, in running order, it’s fantastic.. and to some extent, the problems are well understood and fixes are available.. but for most people, ripping the damn thing out and stuffing a small block Chevy in there is the obvious option. Ignoring the enormous weight difference, it is far simpler to work on.

The more obvious global fix is the Rover v8 – which probably should’ve been in there in the first place – and sheer pigheadedness is what prevented it from being in there in the first place. Go British Leyland, eh.

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.

Why we take batteries out before storing

This is what happens if you take a 1971 Stag, drive it until 1978 when the engine gives up, and then store it until 2007. You will of course remember to carefully drain and replace all the fluids, seal the interior, and cover the car correctly. What you will forget is to remove the original British Leyland battery, which over the next 29 years will disintegrate, filling your front valance with battery acid.. which in turn will disintegrate, taking the entire battery box, half the radiator, the fan, and most of the front bumper with it.

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?

Things that go CLUNK in the night

It’s amazingly hard to find a reliable Stag with a reliable Stag engine. Because the cooling system is marginal at best and the timing setup isn’t “fire and forget” like your average small block Chevy, most of them have long since died here in the sunny US.

My Stag-engined Stag ran just fine, but with criminally low oil pressure and some very ominous rumbling sounds. Last June, I stopped the (slow) restoration process to figure out what was wrong with the bottom end. Seven months later, I finally got the sump off and found both the thrust washers floating around in the oil. Obviously this wasn’t good.

Oily Goodness, yes? Note the new #3 bearing cap.. straight out of a TR7 as it happens. The actual main bearings were already +0.010″ over, and are hardly worn. The crank was (fortunately) just fine, so it was just a case of meticulously putting everything back together and crossing lots of fingers.

So today, at about 4pm, it finally coughed back into life.. only for me to see that the seven-month lay-up had dried the float chamber seals on one carb, so it spewed neat fuel into a) the engine, and b) the bonnet. Whoops. I’ll be fixing that before I take this any further, I think.

The Triumph Stag. What did it ever do?

So I have a bit of a thing for Triumph Stags. When I was but a small boy, cars I drew looked like one of two things.. a Mini, or a Stag. This is unfortunate, because a Stag is just about the least reliable British car it’s possible to own. Granted, most of the problems are now well-known and can be sorted.. but this has its consequences.

Firstly, Triumph only sold 2500 Stags in the US between 1970 and 1973. In my estimation, maybe half of these are left.. and of those, maybe half have had the engine switched because the original melted/combusted/exploded. As it left the factory, the Stag has eight of the most fragile cylinders ever put under a bonnet.

The other side-effect of the Stag’s well-known reliability problems is this:

I currently have three Stags. The above two came from a guy who also had three.. but he restored one, decided it was too much effort, and sold the other two to me. The one on the left has been Frankensteined with a 283 Chevy engine, and obviously has been outside for long time.. even though there’s no rust whatsoever *inside*. It also – after some coaxing – runs and drives (unfortunately it doesn’t stop yet).

The one on the trailer is a very early 1970 – in fact, it’s about ten cars earlier than the earliest US-spec “normal production” Stags known to the registry. Unfortunately, despite good bodywork, most of this car is in bits in my garage.  It did come with two engines though – a Capri v6, and the Stag v8 (suspiciously missing one timing cover).

Hmm.